by Liz Isaacson
“Bartholomew Stone Glover, do you take Samantha Eden Benton to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, to cherish, and to weather life’s storms with?”
“Yes, sir,” Bear said, causing a few twitters among the crowd.
Pastor Summers smiled at him and switched his gaze to Sammy. “Samantha Eden Benton, do you give yourself to Bear, and taken him unto yourself, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, to cherish, and to weather life’s storms with?”
“Yes,” Sammy said.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the pastor said, and Bear turned toward Sammy. He dipped her down as cheers erupted, and they kissed. Bear lifted her up, and they faced the crowd.
Bear stepped over to Mother and hugged her while Sammy separated from him and went to her mom. Once another round of congratulations had finished, Bear and Sammy took their places in the audience.
The music paused. Ranger appeared in the doorway, and he wore a darker suit, a darker cowboy hat, and plenty of joy on his face. Bishop loved his cousin almost as much as his brother, and he let himself get lost in the happiness pouring from him.
Ranger walked down the aisle himself, kissed his mother on the cheek, and took his spot at the altar.
His bride, Oakley Hatch, appeared in the doorway too, and she also did not have an escort. Bishop glanced at Ace, who frowned. “I thought her father was coming,” Bishop whispered.
“Me too,” Ace said, looking at Ward. He too wore a concerned look, and they all turned to look at Ranger.
Bishop wanted to race to the back of the barn and offer his arm to Oakley. Should I? he wondered.
He didn’t feel like he shouldn’t, so he nudged Ace. “Let’s go. Get Ward.” With that, he turned and went down the aisle on the outside of the chairs. He didn’t care who saw him or what they thought. He was not letting Oakley walk down that aisle by herself.
She took the first step, and Bishop raised his hand. She caught sight of him coming toward her, and her eyes widened. Bishop arrived a moment later and offered his arm to her.
“Bishop,” she said, her voice breaking.
“If you hate me for doing this, I’ll go back to my seat,” he whispered.
She shook her head, and then Ace crossed in front of them and took Oakley’s other arm. Ward joined them, stepping behind Oakley and putting his hand on her shoulder.
Bishop looked up to the altar, where Ranger stood. He’d come forward a few steps and waited beside the first row of chairs.
All of the chairs were empty, because every Glover had followed Bishop. They formed a halo around Oakley now, who let out one sob and turned around.
Bishop looked at Ace, and they quickly stepped into the aisle to shield her from all the guests. Ward leaned down and said something to Oakley, and she nodded. He smiled at her, and Oakley handed her flowers to Zona and took a moment to wipe her eyes. Ida and Etta fretted over her for another few seconds, and then they nodded their approval.
Oakley took her flowers, took a giant breath that seemed to fill her whole body, and turned around.
Guilt tripped through Bishop. He should’ve stayed at his seat. He’d made her cry. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be.” She reached for him, and he and Ace took their positions on either side of her. The entire family walked down the aisle with Oakley, and they all gave her to Ranger. Really, they were giving Ranger to her, and Bishop actually thought it was a beautiful moment.
Another simple speech, and with less theatrics, Ranger kissed his new wife amidst the same loud cheering that Bear and Sammy had received.
Bishop drew in a deep breath and admired the men in his life he’d always looked up to. He sure did hope he could find someone as amazing as Sammy or Oakley, and he took a moment to close his eyes and offer up a simple prayer.
Thank you for showing me what true love is.
Bishop got his quiet solitude that evening. The next day too, as it was the Sabbath, and everyone seemed exhausted from the previous day’s events.
On Monday morning, Bishop had just set the coffee to brew when the doorbell rang. He whipped his attention that way, wondering who in the world would be out this way this early. Arizona hadn’t gotten up yet, and if it was anyone else, they’d have just come in the house.
Bishop wasn’t worried as he padded through the enormous kitchen, under the wide, arched doorway, and into the foyer. He pulled open the door to find a beautiful blonde woman standing there.
His mind said hello, but his voice stayed mute. He could only stare at her, taking her in piece by piece.
Pretty face, with plenty of personality in those vibrant blue eyes. She wore a black jacket over her shirt, which looked to be pink, red, and white plaid. She wore jeans and work boots, but the thing that caught Bishop’s attention the most was the tool belt strapped around her waist.
His mouth turned dry.
She was an angel straight from heaven, crafted just for Bishop Glover.
“Good mornin’,” she drawled, but he could tell instantly she wasn’t from Texas. Doesn’t matter, he thought. It’s a minor negative. Very minor.
He still couldn’t get his voice to work, and the woman slid her eyes down his chest, immediately bringing her gaze back to his. “Uh…I’m Montana Martin, and I’m wondering if you have any need for an extra hand with any construction projects. I have a certification in cabinetry, as well as a decade of experience with one of the biggest builders in San Antonio.”
Bishop nodded, his vocal cords unknotting. Finally. “I could’ve used you three months ago,” he said.
“Oh.” Montana’s face fell. “You’re all caught up now?”
With the cabin remodels, the whole barn renovation, and the Ranch House set to get work done too, Bishop had hired multiple temporary workers to get the jobs done.
“We’re never caught up,” he said, curling his fingers over the top of the door and leaning into the frame. “I’m sure I can find something for you to do.”
And if he couldn’t, he’d invent something. Maybe a new chicken coop needed to be built. No matter what, he needed to keep Montana nearby so he could get to know her better.
Montana’s face burst into a smile, and it dang near made Bishop groan. She was stunning, the morning light streaking toward her across the front porch. When it touched her, she’d light up like a flame, and Bishop really wanted to see that.
“Do you have a minute to talk?” he asked. “I don’t have to be out on the ranch for a bit.”
Montana swallowed and nodded, her fingers tightening around that sexy tool belt. “Do you live alone?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “My sister’s here with me. I’ll get her to come down.” He was a proper gentleman, after all.
Montana relaxed, her hand releasing the tool belt, and she nodded. “Okay. I can stay for a few minutes. Could you, uh, maybe put on a shirt?”
Bishop’s eyes widened. Horrified, he looked down at himself. Sure enough, his torso was bare, and a bomb of heat exploded through his body. Still, he thought he sounded pretty cool when he said, “Sure. C’mon in and help yourself to a cup of coffee while I get dressed.”
Chapter Two
Montana Martin entered the house after the tall, muscled man, realizing she hadn’t gotten his name. She knew where she’d come though, and she knew the Glover family owned Shiloh Ridge. She didn’t know all of their names, or even if they all lived here. She’d come to the first and biggest house on the ranch, assuming she’d get the owner.
She couldn’t believe she’d made it through the front door. None of her other solicitations at other ranches had earned her more than a, “Sorry, we’ve got all the help we need,” and a sympathetic smile.
Everyone in Texas sure was polite, she’d give them that.
She looked around the house, taking in the enormity of it. The ceiling here in the foyer stretched for two stories. The work on the banister leading up the double-wide stairs was custom and hand-made. Montana frowned at it,
because she recognized the superior craftsmanship.
“Micah Walker,” she muttered under her breath. The man had opened his custom home construction business at literally the same time Montana had. He had more money and more charisma, and his business had taken off while hers had whimpered in the darkness.
The only reason she’d survived for the past couple of years was because of her aunt and uncle’s generosity and kindness. She’d had a job with a construction firm that had finished their subdivision three months ago, and Montana still hadn’t found consistent full-time work.
The building boom in Three Rivers seemed to be slowing down a little, but she didn’t want to leave town. She liked the stability she’d earned here, and she wanted to maintain some level of that for herself and her daughter.
Things had started to pick up in the past couple of months since she’d landed on a list in the Two Cents app, and Montana had been using that during some of her pitches.
What are you doing here? she wondered as she looked at the carved name above the doorway that led deeper into the house. Everything about this place screamed wealth, that was what she was doing there.
She needed a job, plain and simple.
It had taken her thirty-five minutes to get here from her aunt’s house on the east side of town, and that was way too far to drive every day. Aurora was still in school, but Montana liked to be home when her daughter got off the bus.
She’d basically be able to work half-days with a commute as far as this one.
He’s the first person who’s let you in, she thought, quickly changing her internal dialog into a prayer. Please, Lord, help this to work out. I need this job.
“I said you could come in.”
She turned toward the man, who now wore jeans instead of gym shorts, a black and white shirt with plenty of checkers on it, and a deliciously black cowboy hat. “I was just taking in the beauty of this place,” she said. “It can’t be very old.”
“A little over a year,” he said, looking up at the ceiling and walls too.
“Micah Walker did it, didn’t he?” Montana watched the man.
He smiled, which only made her want to roll her eyes. “He sure did.” He met her gaze again. “Do you know Micah?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” she asked, realizing too late how bitter she sounded.
He didn’t seem to notice though. His smile stayed hitched in place, and he stared at her in a way that almost had her walking right back out the front door, job or not. He blinked, and Montana saw a hint of redness creep up his neck.
“Sorry,” he said with a low chuckle. “I’m not properly caffeinated. Come in, come in.” He turned and went into the kitchen, and Montana decided to follow him.
“I’m Bishop, by the way,” he said. “I realize I never even told you that.” He stood in the biggest kitchen Montana had ever seen. The house seemed to go on and on, and the massive dining table against the far wall intrigued her.
The living room held four couches and three more loveseats, a huge flatscreen TV, and even a couple of beanbags. She half-expected a little black dog to come trotting up to greet her, because she’d entered a fairytale where all dreams came true.
Her daughter really wanted a little black dog, and that would’ve been heaven for Aurora.
“Coffee?” Bishop appeared in front of her, a mug extended toward her. “I’ll get the cream out. Sugar is on the counter there.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking the mug. She didn’t know where to look next, and she took a sip of the coffee. It was mighty good too, even without sugar. She still stepped over to the counter and spooned in the good stuff. She sighed as she sat at the bar and watched Bishop doctor up a cup of coffee for himself.
He turned, his face already beaming, and walked over to her. “What’s your schedule like?” he asked.
“I’m pretty open,” she said, glancing at him. “I have a small job at the college to finish up, and then I’m all yours.” She realized what she’d said and pressed her eyes closed.
“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” Bishop said.
Montana’s eyes flew open, and she faced him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said, lifting his cup to his mouth. He sipped and asked, “Where else have you worked? Do you have a general contractor’s license? Business insurance? That kind of stuff?”
“Yes,” Montana said. She went on to detail her latest job with Liberty Homes. “I do have a general contractor’s license, and I’m a master carpenter.” She watched his eyebrows go up. “I can do anything you need me to on your ranch, Bishop. Sir.”
He burst out laughing. “You do not need to call me sir,” he said. “And I’m—”
“Bishop,” a woman called, and a moment later, she came running into the kitchen. “Have you seen that blasted lizard? Link says it’s not in his room, and he swears it was last night when he went to bed.”
“Haven’t seen ‘im,” Bishop said, clearly unconcerned about the lizard. “Are you taking Link to school today?”
“Yes,” the woman said, and Montana ducked her head as she realized she’d met this woman before—and not under good circumstances.
“My sister,” Bishop said. “Arizona.” His face lit up, and he got to his feet. “Hey, you guys both have state names.” He looked from his sister to Montana and back.
Arizona finally noticed her, and Montana decided to simply stare back. If she was going to work here—and she hoped and prayed she was—she’d have to deal with the woman. If only she’d known she was a Glover.
“This is Montana,” Bishop said, indicating her. “She’s gonna work around the ranch for us.”
“Us?” Montana asked at the same time Arizona scoffed and then started laughing.
“Right,” she said as she moved into the kitchen and started pouring herself a cup of coffee. “I don’t think so.”
“No?” Bishop asked, clearly confused.
Arizona turned around and took a long drink of her black coffee, her eyes never leaving Montana. She finally ducked her head, because she couldn’t withstand the loathing coming from Arizona.
“No,” Arizona said. “She’s not.”
“Why not?” Bishop asked.
“I wasn’t hitting on him,” Montana said at the same time Arizona took a breath in.
“She hit on Duke right in front of me.”
“No,” Montana said again. “You just blew it all out of proportion.”
“I did not,” Arizona said. “You came right over to our table and asked him to dance as if I wasn’t even there.”
“I just wanted to ask him about a job.” Montana flicked her eyes in Bishop’s direction. She didn’t need to be right here. She could let this go. “He asked me to dance. I said yes.”
“Why would he do that?” Arizona asked, throwing her hands into the air. “It makes no sense.”
Montana could see the situation from her point of view, and Arizona was right. Duke Rhinehart’s behavior last week made no sense. “I don’t know.” She glanced at Bishop, who now wore confusion in the slant of his eyebrows. He seemed to be made of light on dark, and Montana sure did like the golden color of his skin, the way his hair was brown, yet also highlighted with blonde. He had light blue eyes the color of the flowers she’d had in her first wedding bouquet, and as she’d already seen him with his shirt off, she knew the man had muscles in all the right places.
His strong jaw reminded her of her brother’s, though her feelings for Bishop weren’t anything brotherly at all. She looked away from him when she realized she even had feelings for him.
She didn’t know if she should sit back down or leave. They hadn’t agreed on a wage, nor had Bishop invited her back to his ranch so she could look at the projects they were doing. Montana clenched her jaw and held her ground.
“I apprenticed for Marion Thurgate,” she said. “I don’t know if you know him, but he’s—”
“Only the best woodworker in the state,” Bishop said, his charm and charism
a returning in a single heartbeat.
Montana couldn’t help the beam of sunshine that shone through her body too. She smiled at him. “I think so too. I worked with him for four years.”
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Alabama originally,” she said. “But I’ve been in Texas for a while now. Fifteen or sixteen years.”
“Alabama,” Arizona said. “Fifteen. Sixteen. It doesn’t matter.” She glared at Montana and then Bishop. “You’re not hiring her. What is she going to do anyway?”
“We’ve got cabins and the Ranch House,” Bishop said easily. He barely looked at Arizona and her animosity toward Montana only seemed to bother the two of them.
“Bear will never approve another full-time carpenter,” Arizona said.
“Bear’s on his honeymoon,” Bishop said coolly. He looked at Montana again. “What’s your rate?”
“I—”
“You can’t just hire her,” Arizona said, a hint of desperation in her voice now.
Montana kept her head down, a healthy dose of embarrassment making her feel too hot. The barstool was way too hard. She should leave.
“I can,” Bishop said.
“You don’t own the ranch.”
Montana looked up then. “You don’t own the ranch?”
Arizona burst out laughing, and Bishop blinked a couple of times. “No,” he said. “I never said I owned the ranch.”
“Yeah, but you made me think you did.” Montana got up, tired of these games already. She’d never survive out here. “Sorry to waste your time.” She started for the foyer, saying, “I’m sorry, Arizona. I was not hitting on your boyfriend, and I apologize that you thought I was.”
Her momma had taught her that it wasn’t always easy to apologize, but always worth it. Not only that, but she could do so even if she didn’t think she’d done anything wrong.
“Wait,” Bishop said, jumping to his feet too. He followed her into the foyer, saying, “I have full authority to hire for my construction teams. I don’t need to own the ranch to give you a job.”
