The Montana Cowboy's Heart

by Kaylie Newell

  Porter looked up. They’d been watching each other all evening, an electricity sparking between them that Justine was surprised wasn’t visible to the naked eye.

  Some of the guests began getting up and taking their coffees into the living room to drink by the fire. Apparently, it was going to be an early morning with a trail ride down by the river, so some of them were talking about heading to bed soon.

  Cat got up and came around to her side of the table.

  “Can I go out to the barn to see Abby and Wookiee?”

  “If Porter says it’s okay,” she said. “But don’t forget your hat and gloves, alright?”

  “Okay.”

  Porter looked up at Daisy as she cleared his dessert plate. “Can I help with dishes?”

  “Oh,” Justine said, “me, too. I’d love to help.”

  “No, I’m fine. Brooks is going to help, aren’t you, Brooks?”

  “Sure. I love doing dishes with you, babe.”

  Daisy gave him some side-eye, before glancing back at Porter and Justine. “Why don’t you two go for a walk? It’s such a gorgeous night.”

  “She’s trying to get us alone together,” Porter said dryly.

  “I am not.”

  Brooks laughed. “Just admit it. You’re matchmaking again. And not being very subtle at it, either.”

  “Okay. Maybe a little.”

  They all looked at her.

  “Okay. A lot. But can you blame me? Somebody has to move this along. If we left it up to you two, it’d take forever.”

  Warmth flooded Justine’s cheeks. It was true. All of it. Since their kiss, she and Porter had been dancing around each other for days. Sneaking glances, looking away, looking back again. She’d told him she wasn’t in the market for any kind of relationship, and he’d agreed that he wasn’t, either. But they couldn’t seem to move on from that kiss, no matter how hard they tried. And let’s face it, they hadn’t really tried that hard. It was like knowing you were going to have a hangover in the morning but making the measured decision that it was worth it. Good God, she thought. Let him be worth it…

  He pushed his chair back, and stood, stretching his long legs. Her heart squeezed at the sight of him in his Wranglers—every inch the tall, lean cowboy.

  “What do you say?” he asked her. “Want to get some air? Might be good to walk off some pie, anyway.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “You two don’t rush back,” Daisy said. “Have fun.”

  He pulled the chair out for her, and she stood. He put his hand on the small of her back as they headed for the door and their jackets. She loved how it felt there, warm and subtly possessive. She never thought she’d be a woman who’d want to be possessed by anyone, but then again, she’d never met a man like Porter before, either. He was beginning to turn all the things she thought she knew about herself, inside out. Like whether or not she’d ever be a mother. Through his eyes, she saw herself as more than capable, more than worthy of that gift in her life. He was also making her question things that she thought she’d put to rest a long time ago. Like leaving the country. Like starting a new adventure somewhere other than Marietta, her new home that she was only now beginning to fall in love with.

  She shrugged into her puffy blue jacket and zipped it up, feeling a torrent of these new emotions swirl in her heart. But the biggest emotion, the most significant one, had to do with Porter himself. She was falling for him, despite knowing better, despite trying to talk herself out of it. And that would change everything.

  He opened the door for her, and she stepped out into the cold night air. It smelled like pine trees and animals, and she breathed deeply, a frosty cloud puffing from her lips.

  They made their way down the porch steps and began walking side by side down the long drive. Their feet crunched in the gravel, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted softly. The cattle stood in the pastures on either side of them, nothing but quiet shadows in the silver pools of moonlight. Daisy was right—tonight was absolutely breathtaking.

  “I’m glad you came,” Porter said, breaking the silence.

  “Thank you for inviting us.”

  “You make a mean apple pie. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  She laughed. “No, but I try. It was my mother’s recipe. She loved to bake.”

  “I’m sorry, you know.”

  “About?”

  “Your mom.”

  Justine had only recently told him about the loss of her mother. Described the last few years without her. Even though she’d been gone a while now, the pain still felt fresh sometimes. A lot of that had to do with reconciling with her dad. Her mom had still blamed him for leaving when she’d died, and she’d never forgiven him. It had been up to Justine and Jemma to forgive for her, and that had been a long, difficult journey.

  She tucked her chin into the collar of her jacket, her breath warming her face. “Thank you,” she said. “It still feels strange that she’s not here.”

  “But you had her in your life. She died too soon, but at least you’ve got the memories. That’s something.”

  *

  The words were heavy with meaning, laced with pain. She knew he didn’t have many memories of his mother, because she’d left. Justine’s dad had left, too, but they’d been able to make new memories. Porter was in limbo, stuck somewhere between not having something, and being able to have it if he took the next step. It must be a strange feeling.

  “You’re right,” she said. “The memories are a comfort.”

  They continued walking, their footsteps falling into a gentle rhythm.

  “You know…I found my mom.”

  She stopped and turned to him. He stopped, too.

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. It actually wasn’t that hard. Took a day or so, but the magic of the internet and all that.”

  His expression was stoic in the moonlight, unreadable. But she knew how confused he must be right then. She’d experienced it herself. Opening yourself up to the possibility of rejection from someone you loved felt like stepping up to a dark abyss, and wondering if you’d survive the fall.

  Moving closer, she reached for his hand. His skin was rough—warm, despite the chill of the night. It had been a long, long time since she’d felt a connection like this with anyone.

  “Have you contacted her yet?” she asked.

  “I sent an email. Short and sweet.”

  “Has she answered?”

  “Actually…she did. I’m not sure how to feel about any of this yet. But it’s a start. If Cat can do it, so can I.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “What did she say?”

  “Not much. She lives pretty close, though. Idaho. I guess I thought she’d be farther away than that.”

  Justine knew he was at a crossroads then. He just had to decide which direction to take.

  “I asked her if we could meet,” he went on quietly. “Told her that we should talk in person. And she agreed…”

  And there it is.

  “I’m proud of you, Porter. This is a really big deal.”

  “Not sure my brothers would agree. They’ve made it pretty clear they don’t need to see her again.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I don’t need to see her. I want to see her. There’s a difference. For me, the end result isn’t as important as going through the steps to try and make it happen. Does that make sense?”

  “Perfect sense.”

  He smiled down at her. “You know, I’ve never talked about this with anyone before. Not really. And now, here I am, spilling my guts to you.”

  She smiled back. “How does that feel?”

  “Weird. And good. Confusing, but I’m going with it.”

  “Weird and good is the story of my life.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  “I’m not sure I want you to move all the way across the Atlantic next summer,” he said, “and honestly, I don’t know what to do with
that.”

  It was what had been weighing on her the most lately. Having to leave Cat, having to leave Porter and the ranch. Leaving Jemma and her dad, so soon after moving to Marietta to be closer to them. It was all beginning to feel more and more like a mistake instead of the change she thought she’d wanted so badly. And she didn’t know what to do with it either.

  “We can write,” she said, sounding unconvincing even to herself. “And FaceTime?”

  “I can’t kiss you over FaceTime.”

  He pushed his hand up the back of her sweater and pressed it against her bare skin. She shivered.

  “I wasn’t prepared for any of this, you know,” he said. “I was doing just fine before you came along.”

  She knew what he meant. She’d been doing just fine, too. At least that’s what she’d been telling herself.

  “And now here we are,” he continued. “With me making you feel guilty about leaving, and I don’t do guilt. Ever.”

  “There’s still time to put the brakes on, Porter. If this doesn’t make sense, we just stop, right? And nobody gets hurt.”

  He nodded, his lips tilting slightly. “That’s very sensible, Justine.”

  That was her. Sensible, boring, unwilling to stick her neck out for any kind of emotional connection. She’d thought going to Europe was taking a risk, but it was actually turning out to be just the opposite. A chance to run away. Again.

  Moving his hand around to her rib cage, he dipped his head to kiss her neck. His scruff was scratchy against her skin, deliciously male. She tilted her head and closed her eyes for a second, reveling in his warmth, the way he made her feel. Like she was waking up after being asleep for years.

  And then, he took her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. It was at that moment that she knew she wasn’t just falling anymore. She was in love. Whatever had been set in motion a few weeks ago, had taken her heart with it. She no longer had control over whether or not she got hurt, or whether or not to put the brakes on. This was controlling her, not the other way around.

  “The thing is,” he said huskily, “that I don’t really have any interest in being sensible right now. Do you?”

  Staring up at him, she shook her head.

  “Good. Then we agree on something.”

  Before she could respond, he leaned down the rest of the way and kissed her.

  Lord help me, she thought.

  And then she lost the ability to think altogether.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” Griffin said, standing by the closet with his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking especially accountant-like today, his green collared shirt buttoned all the way up, and his khakis so starched, they’d probably stand up on their own.

  Porter reached past him to grab a T-shirt, doing his best to ignore the look on his little brother’s face. The one that said he was crazy. The one that said he was going to regret this. Which, yeah. He might. But at least he was taking a chance, which was more than he could say for the rest of his family.

  “Why would you want to have anything to do with her, Porter? After the way she left us?”

  Porter shoved the T-shirt into his duffel bag on top of his socks and toothbrush. He was only going to be gone overnight, so he wasn’t taking much. Back tomorrow before the cattle needed fed.

  “It’s complicated,” he said.

  “Complicated isn’t a strong enough word for it. Nuts is better.”

  Frowning, Griffin pushed his glasses up with his index finger. Dating Rae had loosened him up a lot. He’d even gotten a dog, which was huge. But he was still the most tightly wound of the Cole men, something that was on stark display at the moment. Griffin couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that anyone would want to open themselves up to this. And Porter didn’t blame him for that. He didn’t need his understanding, necessarily. Just his support.

  “Say what you really feel, little brother.”

  Griffin ignored that. “You’ve talked to Brooks?”

  “Yep.”

  “And?”

  “He’s in the nuts camp with you.”

  “And Dad?”

  “On board, I guess.”

  Griffin shoved a hand through his dark hair, making it stand straight up.

  “You’re awfully worked up about this, Griff,” Porter said. “I didn’t ask you to come with me, you know.”

  “Because you know I’d tell you to go to hell.”

  “Well, that’s why I didn’t ask.”

  He watched Griffin walk over to the window and look out at the ranch. The sun was bright in the cobalt-blue sky, but it was supposed to rain later. The first of several storm fronts that were supposed to move across Montana in the next week or so. Thanksgiving was getting closer, and so was the livestock auction. It was all giving Porter a weird sense of urgency that wasn’t necessarily like him.

  He wished this wasn’t such a point of contention for his brother. He didn’t want to piss him off or make him feel unsettled in any way. But at the same time, he knew it was something he had to do. In order to move on from the wounds of his childhood that had been dictating the way he’d been living his life up to now. And before he could help it, he thought of Justine. How would taking this step affect his relationships moving forward? He had no idea, of course, until he took it.

  “Don’t be mad, brother,” he said. “You can’t stay mad at me, right?”

  Griffin turned to him, his jaw working. “I’m not mad…”

  “Then what?”

  “Worried, I guess. We were screwed up for a long time because of her.”

  “But we’re not kids anymore.”

  “Yeah, I know that. But things are finally good here. Dad’s doing great. He’s settling into Marietta. People are getting to know him. We’re all doing really well, considering. I just don’t want to rock the boat. I don’t know why you’d want to.”

  “Look…” Porter rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to explain it, because I really don’t understand myself. I feel the same way about Mom. She left us. It was unconscionable what she did. And I don’t know if I can ever forgive that. But I’m at a point in my life where I need to be at peace with it. I thought I was before, but I wasn’t. I can’t trust anyone. Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that?”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, man.”

  “I know. I know it’s been hard on you, too. But you’ve gotten past it enough to have some meaningful relationships in your life. You and Brooks…even Dad. I’m the only one who’s still fighting it, and quite frankly, that’s messed up.”

  That was a mild way of putting it, but it was the closest Porter could come to articulating how he felt. Messed up. Damaged. Weird. All of it fit.

  Gritting his teeth, he tucked his shaving kit inside the duffel bag. The truth was, maybe Griffin would never understand this. But it didn’t matter. It needed to be done anyway.

  “Whatever happens,” Griffin finally said, “I’ve got your back. Okay?”

  Porter looked up at him. Sometime in the last few minutes, his chest had grown unbearably tight. Now, it felt like someone was squeezing him from behind. Squeezing the breath right out of him.

  He’d never been a very emotional guy, which made this whole thing even more strange. But he guessed pain had to catch up to everyone eventually. Eventually, everyone had to reconcile with their past. He liked to think that finding his mother wasn’t so much stupid, as it was brave. At least, that’s what Cat had taught him.

  “Thanks, brother,” he said.

  And found he didn’t have the words for anything else.

  *

  Justine pulled up to Diamond in the Rough with her heart in her throat. She hadn’t planned on this; it had just happened. When Porter had texted her that morning, saying he was meeting his mother for dinner in Boise, she’d gotten a substitute, and asked Brooks and Daisy if Cat could spend the night with them at the ranch. She
had no idea if offering to come with Porter would be welcome or not. But either way, she was here, so it was too late to back out now.

  Taking a deep breath, she put her car in park and turned off the engine. She looked up just as Porter was walking down the porch steps. He smiled and waved, looking surprised to see her.

  She opened the door and stepped out into the bright October morning.

  “What’s up?” he asked, coming around the front of her car. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. I’m sorry, I should’ve called. I just knew you were leaving any time, and I had a few things to take care of at school…”

  He glanced at his watch. “Did you get out early? Where’s Cat?”

  “He’s still in class. I got a substitute.”

  Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. He smelled good, like leather and soap. He wasn’t wearing his Stetson this morning, a rarity. His dark hair shone in the sunlight, making her want to touch it.

  She took an even breath. “I know this is forward, so just tell me if you’d rather be alone, because I’d completely understand. But I thought you might want some support today. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  He gazed down at her, a slow smile spreading across his lips. Two deep dimples cut into both cheeks. She probably shouldn’t be so moved by those dimples at this point, but she absolutely was.

  “Well, now,” he said. “Not knowing you were there wouldn’t be any fun.”

  The words were innocent enough, but there was insinuation. In his voice, in his tone. Because of course there would be the issue of where they would sleep tonight…

  Her cheeks flooded with heat. It was hard not to be undone by the way he was looking at her. Like she’d just opened Pandora’s box, which, she guessed she had.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be a complete gentleman, I promise.”

  That was the problem. She didn’t know if she wanted to him to be a gentleman at all.

  Chapter Thirteen