The Rancher's Proposal (The Montana McGregor Brothers Book 3)

by Paula Altenburg

  Meaning he was still a sweet guy. He still knew how to charm women.

  And it made no difference as to whether he was serious about her or simply looking for a diversion. She’d told him she wasn’t ready, and it was true. She wasn’t a single woman. She wasn’t unattached. She had a young daughter.

  And if Posey wanted her growing up to be independent and strong, she’d have to lead by example. She’d once been that woman who shopped for groceries on Thursdays—except it had been at a coffee shop in Boston, not Grand Central Grocery—and she knew better now.

  Across the room, Trixie grabbed a toy from Diana’s three-year-old, Marcus, who snatched the toy back. Trixie, unused to competition, started to cry. Marcus, his small face anxious now, extended the toy in an effort to pacify her.

  What a sweetheart he was.

  Posey scooted her chair away from the quilt frame, preparing to intervene. If she didn’t discipline her own child when she needed it, who would want to leave their children at a preschool with her?

  Her cellphone rang, interrupting. A quick check showed an unfamiliar number, so she ignored it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Diana. “Trixie’s not used to sharing.”

  Diana placed a staying hand on Posey’s arm. “Marcus doesn’t have much competition at home yet, either. Let them work it out on their own. They have plenty of eyes on them right now and part of the fun for the older ladies is getting to play grandmother. Someone will step in if they feel the need for it.”

  Posey resumed her seat and tried to reconnect with her quilting, woefully aware that early childhood education hadn’t prepared her for single motherhood. When it came to disciplining her daughter, she was too close to be truly impartial. She was always going to end up being either too harsh or too lenient. Trixie’s father should have helped provide the balance required. To compensate for his absence, Posey was clinging too tight.

  “Why don’t you leave Trixie with me some morning so she and Marcus can get to know each other better?” Diana suggested. “It will give you a break from each other.”

  It was as if the other woman had been reading her mind.

  Diana wasn’t the first person to suggest that maybe she and Trixie needed to spend some time apart, however.

  “Thank you. I’d like that. Zack asked if Trixie can go over to play with his niece, too. They’re close to the same age,” Posey said. “He asked to trade babysitting. Do you think two little girls would be too much for him to take on?”

  “I’d have no problem leaving my children with him. Or his brothers, either,” Diana added. “Their parents were fanatics about farm safety, if that’s your concern. Most ranchers are. Trixie will have the time of her life.”

  Posey had already made up her mind about Zack and his child-caring skills but it was nice to hear another mother confirm her opinion. She’d bring up the possibility of exchanging babysitting with him the next time he dropped by to watch stars.

  *

  She waited for him on the front porch while dusk slowly descended.

  The weather had remained hot and dry. She didn’t have air conditioning, so she’d opened all the windows in the house wide, then stripped down to a thin tank top and shorts. They were on a rural side road with very little traffic at this time of day, and since night fast approached, she’d been daring and gone braless. She would never have done that in Boston, no matter how hot it got or dark it became, which was another reason why she loved Montana, and planned to enjoy summer as long as it lasted.

  To her, Montana meant freedom. She’d heard its winters were cold, but since she came from Boston where winters were not only cold but also humid, with a damp rawness that slipped under the thickest of coats, she wasn’t too worried about that. She’d take Trixie to one of the ski resorts offering beginner lessons for toddlers. Zack and the kids might like to come, too.

  He usually walked over from the ranch, arriving on her porch shortly after Trixie went to bed, and stayed a few hours. Tonight, however, he was driving Jake’s old black truck. A pink car seat occupied the passenger space next to the wheel.

  The door of the truck opened. Gray leather ankle boots hit the ground. He wore jeans and a white shirt. His hair was still damp from the shower. He smelled of aftershave, toothpaste, and a faint hint of horse, as if he’d stopped at the barn, too.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said, dropping onto the swing seat beside her. It groaned in protest, but ultimately, honored its position. “Sorry I can’t stay long. I promised Dan and a few friends from high school I’d meet them at Lou’s Pub for a beer. We’re having a last-minute reunion before our pal Andy ships out overseas.”

  Posey didn’t want him to see how disappointed she was by his announcement. Even though they had no firm arrangement, she always looked forward to their quiet nights on the porch when they talked about any number of things—the rise of civilization, international women’s soccer, and whether Wonder Woman or Captain Marvel would win in a fair fight.

  And, secretly, although she’d never admit it out loud, she liked it when he called her beautiful. He made her feel as if it were true.

  The full import of her disappointment struck her. Despite her best intentions and knowing better. Despite the lessons she’d learned and the daughter who needed her. Despite not being ready. They’d gotten close. She was attracted to him. She didn’t have to go shopping on Thursdays, either.

  Here he was.

  She’d been taking him for granted.

  “Why not come with me?” he said, oblivious to her earthshaking epiphany, but clearly sensing her underlying disappointment that he couldn’t stay. “I can give Kara a call and see if she’s able to sit for you.”

  Kara, the teenaged girlfriend of one of the summer hands at the Wagging Tongue Ranch, sometimes babysat for the McGregors whenever they all had to work in the fields. She seemed like a capable girl and Posey was tempted.

  But for months after she left Trevor, her biggest fear had been that he’d somehow find a way to take her daughter from her. He’d always known how to hurt her, and she didn’t like the thought of leaving Trixie alone in the evening with a teenaged babysitter, even for a few hours—because at night, two thousand miles between them never seemed far enough.

  Not even the temptation of an evening with Zack, rather than one spent here alone, was enough to belay her fears.

  “Not on short notice,” she said. “But I’d like to go to Billings to do some shopping one day next week. Would you keep Trixie for me?”

  Dark eyebrows rode skyward. He placed a hand over his heart, feigning shock. “You’d trust me? I’m flattered.”

  His inability to be serious was one of the things she enjoyed most about him. She’d lived with anxiety for so long she’d forgotten what it was like not to have to watch every word. “Don’t be. I trust Trixie, not you. She’s very mature for her age.”

  He had thick, stunning lashes, such a deep shade of red they bordered on brown. Blue eyes laughed into hers, reassuring her that yes, he knew she was teasing him, and he wasn’t offended by it. Not in the least. “Are you insinuating I’m not mature?”

  “I’d never insinuate such a thing. I’m saying it as plain as I can.”

  He set the swing into motion with a nudge of his foot. “Despite you insulting me, of course I’ll keep Trixie for you. We’ll have a blast. I didn’t realize women went shopping alone, though. Who’s going to tell you if an outfit makes you look fat?”

  “Any other woman in the dressing room,” Posey said. “All I have to do is ask.”

  Zack draped an arm along the back of the swing and faced her. “How come it’s okay for a woman to say something like that to another woman, but if a guy is asked his opinion and tries to be honest, women get all bent out of shape?”

  “I have no idea. If it helps, I’m not shopping for clothes. I’m buying teaching supplies for the preschool.”

  A hint of worry smudged the firm line of his mouth. “I know you want to do this yourse
lf, but starting a business is a major investment and you’ve got Trixie to think of. Are you okay for money? Do you need a loan? Just enough to help get you started?”

  Posey was touched beyond words. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”

  His worry shot straight to outright concern. “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Tell him.

  But she couldn’t do it. He liked her for who he believed her to be—a struggling single mother. She was definitely that. Besides, her money was nobody’s business. “I could use your help when it comes time to set up, though.”

  “I’m all yours.” Zack stopped the swing. “I should be going. Unless you’d like me to stay.” He framed it as more of a question.

  All she had to do was say yes.

  But she wasn’t robbing him of a night out with his friends when she hadn’t made any real effort to make friends of her own. “I’ve got a book to read.” Which, of course, wasn’t really an answer. “Go on,” she urged him. “You don’t want to disappoint Andy.”

  “She won’t mind. I haven’t seen her since graduation, anyway.”

  Andy was a woman.

  How many female friends did he have?

  Did he ever drop by to watch the stars with them, too?

  There was so much she didn’t know about him. Maybe she wasn’t as special to him as she’d begun to believe.

  The gap between them on the swing disappeared. Zack’s arm encircled her shoulders. She cupped his cheek in her palm and ran her thumb over the smooth, stubble-free skin of his freshly-shaved jaw. He pulled her toward him and gifted her with a light kiss on the lips, a quick peck that was as unsatisfying to her as it must be for him.

  “I’ve got my eye on the star to the right,” he said softly. “Don’t you forget it.”

  She tried to recall why she’d claimed she wasn’t ready for him. It seemed like such a long time since she’d said it. What kept holding her back?

  She’d left a bad marriage. She’d crossed the country against her uncle’s advice. She’d bought a house and was turning it into a home. She was about to start her own business. She had a new life, even if she still had some personal growth to accomplish. She was independent. Her therapist would be proud.

  So when it came to Zack, what was she afraid of?

  It wasn’t what, it was who. She was afraid of herself and making another colossal mistake. She was afraid of needing a man in her life when she’d sworn never to need one again. She was afraid that she already might be depending too much on a twenty-eight-year-old man who’d already put his whole life on hold for the sake of his family. She was afraid that, when his family no longer needed him, he’d be gone and she’d be left with more broken dreams.

  But she was more afraid that he might decide she was no longer worth the effort if she didn’t at least try to meet him halfway.

  Two thousand miles. She knew of one person she could trust to keep Trixie safe. No one would get through the door.

  “I’ll give Eleanor a call and see if she minds babysitting for a few hours,” she said. “Why don’t I meet you there?”

  Chapter Eight

  It was a Friday night and Lou’s Pub was bustling.

  Zack pushed his way through the crowd. His friends had gathered in the center of the room. Andy—a fit, attractive blonde with all the confidence of the sharpshooting weapons expert she was—stood on a table. She had a row of shot glasses lined up at her feet and was systematically working her way through them to the cheers of her audience.

  Zack suddenly felt old. He liked Andy. He liked everyone here. But this was the kind of thing they would have done when they were eighteen, not hovering near thirty. He’d aged so much in the past few months. His family—his niece and nephews—were his highest priority, not seeing how fast he and his friends could down shots. He began to worry about asking Posey to join him. He couldn’t imagine her enjoying herself. He didn’t want her to think this was his idea of fun.

  He would have happily sat with her on her front porch.

  A hand clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m surprised you could make it,” Dan said in his ear. Overhead speakers blared southern rock, making conversation a challenge, but not impossible. “You’re usually sitting on your neighbor’s front porch about this time most nights, aren’t you?”

  There were no secrets in small towns.

  “What a waste of taxpayers’ gas, driving around at night spying on people,” Zack replied. “Shouldn’t you be writing parking tickets or something, instead?”

  “Check your windshield. I got your truck on the way in. But don’t worry—the county takes credit cards for payment, now.” Andy leaped off the table onto a sea of upward-stretched hands. Dan’s jaw flapped on its hinges. “Is she actually crowd surfing?”

  The crowd deposited her in front of the two men. She’d had enough to drink that her eyes took a second to focus, and she was a little unsteady on her feet, but while she’d never pass a breathalyzer, she wasn’t yet drunk.

  “Zack!” She flung her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you came!”

  Back when they were in school, he’d had a semi-serious crush on her. She’d been wild, and beautiful, and exciting. They’d never progressed beyond friendship, however. She’d dated older men. Much older, as he recalled. Then she’d enlisted, they’d lost touch, and now, here they were.

  Andy’s gaze drifted past him to settle on Dan. Her eyes narrowed and cooled. “Don, isn’t it? I barely recognized you. You’ve put on weight since the last time I saw you.”

  Dan raised his beer bottle to his lips and took a slow swig. He gave her a long, thoughtful perusal from head to toe. “You haven’t changed a bit, Andy. You’re as pretty as ever.”

  Andy tossed her head, flipping her hair over one well-toned shoulder, and moved on.

  Zack eyed his friend with new respect.

  “So, Don. What was that all about?” he asked.

  “You aren’t the only guy with a weakness for women with issues,” Dan muttered. “Some of us know when to give up on them, though.”

  And yet Dan had come to Andy’s sendoff. He didn’t look as if he was having any more fun than Zack was, either.

  “Want to find a quiet corner?” Zack asked. “I’d like your professional opinion on something.”

  They took their drinks to the far end of the room and leaned side-by-side against a wall so he could keep an eye on the front door. “You were right. Posey ran,” he said. “From her ex. He was abusive.”

  Dan sighed. “And you’re in too deep to walk away, aren’t you?”

  No question about that. “Yeah.”

  “She keeps her money in a bank in Billings,” Dan said.

  Zack rolled the information around, searching for relevance, and came up empty-handed. “And you know that because…”

  Dan shrugged, impervious to disapproval. “People talk. I’m paid to pay attention when they do.”

  “What’s her keeping her money in Billings got to do with anything?”

  “Maybe nothing. But what’s wrong with the bank here in Grand?”

  “Aside from the fact no one in Grand knows how to mind their own business? Including, apparently, its bank employees and sheriff?” Zack asked. “Not a thing.”

  “Would nosy neighbors and bank employees be your first concern when you moved from a big city? Wouldn’t you care more about convenience?”

  “Everyone banks online these days. You can’t get much more convenient than that.”

  “True,” Dan conceded. “So then why move your money at all? Why not leave it right where it was?”

  Zack had no explanation for that. “Okay, smart guy. What’s your explanation for it, then?”

  “Maybe she needs a good investment banker more than she needs convenience.”

  If so, it would explain why she didn’t need money from him for her preschool. Money that he didn’t have, anyway.

  “Fine. You think she’s got money. So what if she does?�
�

  Dan began ticking off facts. “She ran to Grand, Montana from Boston. That’s quite a distance. She does her banking in Billings. There’s an abusive ex-husband who doesn’t appear at all interested in his baby girl. If he was, and he paid the kind of child support she’d need for this kind of move, we’d have heard from him by now. What else do you know about her?”

  Zack knew that Posey’s unhappy, discontented mother had been thirty-three years younger than her husband, which strongly suggested she’d been a trophy wife. Also that Posey had been emotionally neglected most of her life. She wasn’t at all concerned about needing money, either.

  “Why don’t you just tell me what conclusions you’ve jumped to, Sherlock?” he asked.

  “You’re the one who asked me for my professional opinion,” Dan said. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He swallowed the last of his beer and set the empty bottle on a small square wooden table nearby. “There’s a golden rule when it comes to marriage—’He with the gold, rules.’ She has money, and yet she’s the one who ran, which strongly suggests her ex-husband wasn’t too keen on that rule. Abusers are all about control. My conclusion is that sooner or later, he’s going to come after the gold. He’ll use that little girl to get it, too. She likely knows it. That’s why she’s been laying low. I’ll be she’s overprotective too, isn’t she?”

  “What mother isn’t?”

  But Posey was beginning to let go. She’d asked him to keep Trixie for her. That was a big step. She’d also changed her mind about coming here this evening. She’d asked Eleanor to babysit. Diana O’Sullivan had mentioned to Luke that they’d arranged a playdate for Marcus and Trixie. She’d asked if Lydia would like to come, too.

  A slight stir in the crowd near the door caught Zack’s attention. If not for that, he might have missed Posey’s arrival.

  He forgot all about Dan and his conclusions.

  She wore her pale blond hair free and parted on the side. It hung stick-straight and even. There was no mistaking the quality of the cut, even to him. She’d added a touch of makeup—her beautiful eyes were more noticeable, and her lips were a deeper shade of red. She’d added a bra to the tank top she’d been wearing earlier, a fact for which he was both sorry and grateful, and changed to jeans rather than shorts. The jeans didn’t leave much to the imagination, however. They stuck to her hips and long legs like skin. She seemed taller than usual, meaning she likely wore heels.