Montana Homecoming: A Clean Romance (Sweet Home, Montana Book 3)

by Jeannie Watt

  Her lifelong rival...

  Might just be perfect for her

  Career-focused Cassie Callahan is back in Montana for her grandmother’s wedding—and is soon reunited with her childhood enemy: Travis McGuire, the rancher next door. But when the two are tasked with cleaning out a barn for the big day, Cassie starts seeing him more as comfort than competition. With her visit coming to a close and her dream job on the line, can Cassie’s rival convince her to take a chance on him?

  “Here’s the thing—you’re probably going to notice that I’m preoccupied today, and I don’t want you to think it’s because of you.”

  “That would be bigheaded of me,” he agreed solemnly.

  “Given yesterday’s finale, no. It wouldn’t be.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m fighting on too many fronts, Travis. It’s taking a toll.” The honesty of the unguarded words ignited that same gut-level protectiveness he’d felt when she’d faced off with Ray Quentin.

  Cassie glanced up at him when he didn’t answer and the sunlight slanting in through the open door spilled across her face, illuminating shadows beneath her eyes. Shadows that had not been there yesterday.

  He reached up to lightly touch her face, but his hand froze before he made contact. He slowly lowered it as heat started traveling up from his collar. What had he been thinking?

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to the final book of my Sweet Home, Montana series!

  When I was a kid, I had a small problem with impulse control—if someone dropped a challenge, I was all over it. My motto was to act first, think later, and, as you might imagine, it got me into a situation or two. As I grew older, I learned to control my impulses and may have gone too far the other way—thinking too much before I acted. I think I’ve found a happy balance now, and I tapped into my journey as I wrote Cassie, the heroine of this story.

  Another aspect of the story that spoke to my past was the wedding barn. I grew up exploring barns, old and new, swinging from ropes (I’ll never forget the time the rope broke with three of us on it, and I was on the bottom when we landed...ouch) and marveling at the sheer amount of old stuff that could be crammed into a barn “just in case” it was needed later.

  If you enjoy this story, please consider following me on my Facebook page, Facebook.com/jeannie.watt.1, or visit my website, jeanniewatt.com. I love hearing from readers and you can contact me at jeanniewrites@gmail.com.

  Best wishes and happy reading,

  Jeannie Watt

  Montana Homecoming

  Jeannie Watt

  Jeannie Watt lives on a small cattle ranch and hay farm in southwest Montana with her husband, her ridiculously energetic parents and the usual ranch menagerie. She spends her mornings writing, except during calving season, and during the remainder of the day enjoys sewing, doing glass mosaics and fixing fence. If you’d like more information about Jeannie and her books, please visit her website at jeanniewatt.com, where you can also sign up for her newsletter.

  Books by Jeannie Watt

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  Sweet Home, Montana

  Montana Dad

  A Ranch Between Them

  Her Montana Cowboy

  Harlequin Western Romance

  Montana Bull Riders

  The Bull Rider Meets His Match

  The Bull Rider’s Homecoming

  A Bull Rider to Depend On

  The Bull Rider’s Plan

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM TWINS FOR THE RODEO STAR BY JULIANNA MORRIS

  CHAPTER ONE

  NEVER GIVE THE opening bid.

  Cassie Callahan gripped her auction paddle, determined to keep it on her lap until the proper moment. She was, after all, the queen of self-control. The embodiment of coolness under fire. As an assistant school district superintendent, she dealt with unpredictable school boards, principals, teachers and students by calmly addressing facts, laying out pros and cons, refusing to budge unless a decent compromise presented itself. And then she became a master negotiator. She loved it—or at least she used to love it. Lately she’d had the nagging feeling that she was putting more into her job than she was getting out of it.

  Burnout, pure and simple, so it made sense that if she had something to occupy her time when she wasn’t on the job, she’d once again feel the thrill of battle as she headed out to work each morning. Thus, the auction paddle.

  “Sold!” the auctioneer bawled as a nice palomino gelding was led out of the auction ring, and Cassie shifted in her seat. Showtime.

  The palomino had sold for a lower price than Cassie had expected, as had the two horses before. Maybe she’d be able to buy McHenry’s Gold for a reasonable price; maybe the people attending the semiannual Gavin, Montana, horse auction didn’t understand the bloodlines the mare represented. Or perhaps they didn’t care.

  Unlikely. McHenry horses were legendary, but that wasn’t why Cassie was bidding. This particular McHenry mare was a daughter of the mare that had seen her through her turbulent teen years. The last daughter. The mother, McHenry’s Rebel, had died the previous year.

  “The next mare up is something of a gem, folks.”

  No. Don’t make her look good. Just start the bidding.

  Cassie clenched her teeth together, then instantly relaxed her jaw. No more of that. She’d promised her dentist.

  The auctioneer continued singing the praises of McHenry’s Gold and Cassie had to fight to not stand up and tell him to just shut up and get on with the bidding.

  Of course, she didn’t, because that was what old Cassie would have done, back before she’d had a couple thousand classes in management and psychology. Back before she realized that direct confrontation didn’t always work.

  “We’ll open the bidding at ten thousand. Do I hear ten? Ten? Ten?”

  Ten? The last horse had opened at three.

  The ring steward led the mare in a circle. She had excellent conformation but wasn’t flashy otherwise. A bay with a broad white blaze and one white hind foot—a carbon copy of her mother, and Cassie wanted her. She practically had to sit on her paddle.

  The auctioneer continued his patter. The guy in front of Cassie leaned forward as if to get a better view of the mare. His paddle hand twitched when the auctioneer lowered the opening bid to five thousand dollars and suddenly Cassie’s paddle was in the air.

  The spotter pointed at her. “I have five,” the auctioneer announced. “Do I hear six? Six?”

  No six. No six.

  “Five and a half? Five and a—I have five and a half.”

  Cassie leaned forward as she searched the crowd on the opposite side of the sale ring to see who had the temerity to bid against her. She could
n’t see who’d bid in the sea of cowboy hats. Well, she’d spot him next time if he dared do it again. She raised her paddle for a bid of six thousand, then narrowed her eyes as she spotted the man who bid six and a half.

  No.

  Really?

  Her dentist would have hated what she did to her teeth when Travis McGuire met her gaze across the distance that separated them, looking very much the smug know-it-all she knew him to be.

  She was in trouble, because when Travis wore that expression, it meant game on. She searched her memory, trying to remember who had won their last confrontation years ago.

  Maybe it had been a draw.

  This one would not be a draw. Or a loss.

  No one appeared interested in bidding higher than six thousand five hundred. The auctioneer worked the crowd, then began intoning, “Seven? Seven? Six and three-quarters... No? Going...going...”

  Cassie thrust her paddle in the air just after the second going. She didn’t look at Travis, because she told herself she was beyond their old rivalry. She’d thought he would be, too. They were never going to be friends, but after so many years, surely they could be civil?

  “I have a bid of six and three-quarters,” the auctioneer announced.

  Cassie could go to seven. That was her limit. But when Travis raised his paddle at seven thousand, she knew that she was going over budget. She wanted that horse.

  “Seven and a half? Anyone? Sev—”

  Up went her paddle.

  “Eight?” He pointed at Travis, who sat motionless, giving Cassie a flicker of hope. “Seven and three quarters?”

  Travis nodded and Cassie’s stomach fell.

  The auctioneer pointed at Cassie. “Eight?”

  She hesitated, then lifted the paddle. After that things became a blur as Travis continued to meet every bid and her blood pressure continued to rise. The seesaw continued until the auctioneer reached ten thousand five hundred. He pointed at Travis, who grimly shook his head. Cassie’s chest swelled. Unless someone had been waiting in the wings for just this moment...

  “Sold to number 325.”

  Only then, when the heat of battle began to ebb, did she fully process what she’d just done. Ten thousand five hundred dollars. Three thousand five hundred more than she’d allotted. She never got carried away like that. Her gaze strayed across the auction ring to where Travis sat with his forearms resting on his thighs, staring at the ground between his boots. She hadn’t seen the man in over five years, and he still had the power to bring out the worst in her.

  But she couldn’t let this horse slip through her fingers. With this mare, she’d have something to focus on other than the job. A way to relieve pressure and maybe relive a little of her past. She and Rebel had spent hours roaming the mountains behind the ranch. She’d made plans, set goals, sometimes discussed guys she liked with the mare, who never made fun of her for wanting to date out of her league. Cassie was the kind who kept both feet on the ground, so it was safer to engage in a soliloquy while riding Rebel than to talk about guys with her younger sister Katie, who’d hero-worshipped her at the time.

  She picked up her purse and eased her way down the aisle of folding chairs. Never in her life had she thought she’d charge a horse on her credit card, but here she was.

  She just had to be careful about one impulsive act leading to another. She’d left that side of herself behind years ago, having found it detrimental to career building, but if anyone could bring it out again, it would be Travis.

  * * *

  TALK ABOUT BEING BLINDSIDED. Travis McGuire faked a smile at the lady who had to move her chair so he could escape the auction bidding area, then, once he was free, he allowed himself the grim expression that felt so much more satisfying and genuine.

  What was Cassie Callahan doing back in Montana, and why on earth had she bought the very horse that had brought him to the auction?

  Actually, he could guess why she’d bought the horse—she’d owned the mother. But he still had no idea what she was doing in Montana. Had the high-powered job that had kept her from coming home, even for holidays, eased up? Had it ended?

  If so, why hadn’t his grandfather, who was dating Cassie’s grandmother—a circumstance that still blew him away—given him a heads-up?

  Travis dropped his auction catalog into the trash as he headed toward the portable stalls where the sale horses were housed. Sometimes it was best not to court trouble, especially where Cassie was involved, but he wanted answers. More than that, he’d wanted the mare and it stung that he hadn’t been able to buy her. He had two McHenry mares with which to start his breeding program and he wanted a third. McHenry’s Gold was young and green broke, and because this particular auction was geared toward the sale of seasoned working horses, he’d thought there was a chance she’d sell within his price range.

  She probably would have if it hadn’t been for Cassie. He’d gone above his price range by a couple thousand dollars, and then, when Cassie showed no indication of having any kind of budgetary limit, he’d had to stop. He didn’t have a high-paying job in a faraway city. He was a ranch guy making ends meet during a good year.

  He walked around a long aluminum trailer he recognized as belonging to the Callahan ranch, then slowed when he spotted Cassie standing next to an open stall, talking to the mare she’d just bought.

  Unlike the rest of her dark-haired family, Cassie was a blonde. Her hair, which had been waist-length back when they’d competed against each other in just about everything, grazed her shoulders in a smooth, professional-looking cut, and swung like a curtain when she moved. He missed the wild waves, but people changed, and Cassie appeared to be a whole lot more buttoned-up than she’d been back in the day.

  But despite looking sleek and professional, the old Cassie was still there. He’d seen the fire in her eye, even at a goodly distance, when she’d thought he was purposely bidding her up—and there was not a doubt in his mind that was what she thought was happening.

  Her back straightened when his boots hit gravel and she turned, her automatic smile fading when she recognized him.

  “I didn’t know you were back,” he said by way of greeting.

  “It’s been less than a day. I came home early specifically for this sale.”

  So she’d also come for the horse.

  She tilted her chin and he saw her jaw muscles tighten—an old tell—as they silently regarded each other, old nemeses meeting in an unexpected setting. Except Travis wasn’t all that into it anymore.

  Myriad emotions played across what she probably thought was her poker face. Travis had known her for too long, had been in heated combat with her too many times, not to be able to read her like a book—smugness at her hard-won victory, determination to win if he dared challenge her again and...something else.

  Was she reading him the way he was reading her?

  If so, what did she see?

  He shook off the question. “I wasn’t bidding you up.”

  There. That was out of the way.

  “You wanted the mare?” She seemed surprised, but he wasn’t sure why.

  “I did. I’m starting a breeding program and the McHenry lineage has the characteristics I’m looking for.”

  “Ah.” She patted the bay’s neck in a possessive way and Travis wondered if the action had been unconscious or deliberate. Was she rubbing it in?

  He decided no. “You said you came back early.”

  Cassie gave him a cool look and suddenly he couldn’t read her. “Yes. I’ve decided to take a sabbatical. I’d like to get to know my little nieces before they grow up.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “Close to a month.”

  “I thought sabbaticals lasted longer than that.”

  “A month on the ranch, then a few months taking classes at the University of Wisconsin. I’ll go back to w
ork in January.”

  “Working on your doctorate?”

  “I will be.” Her chin lifted as she looked past him. “I think the guy’s coming to check me out.”

  Travis looked over his shoulder and saw Jim Newton heading toward them from the sale office. “What are you going to do with this mare?” he asked as he brought his attention back to Cassie.

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Take her to Wisconsin. I plan to start riding again.”

  “Ah.”

  “Sorry about this, Travis, but I want Rebel’s daughter.”

  “She may not be the same horse her mother was.”

  “But then again she may, and I’m banking on that.” She shifted her weight. “I always regretted selling Rebel when I headed off to college, even though she had a good home and kids to ride her.”

  Travis nodded. It wasn’t unusual to sell good horses to families who would use and love them at certain transition points in life. And it wasn’t unusual to regret the sale, no matter how good of a home the horse got.

  He held Cassie’s gaze as Jim approached, clipboard in hand. There was still a glimmer of challenge in her eyes, as if she thought he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security. He might have done that a time or two in the past, like when he pretended he wasn’t going to run against her for senior-class president, only to sign up in the eleventh hour, and then win by a slim margin. It’d driven her crazy and he’d enjoyed the payback for the other things she’d bested him in.

  What a jerk he’d been.

  “Maybe I’ll see you before you leave.” It seemed likely that in two months their paths might cross again.

  Cassie gave him a startled look that clearly said, Why would you think that?

  “Yes, maybe,” she said in the voice he imagined she used in her job as a school district administrator.

  Jim Newton came to a stop near the back of the trailer, and his gaze bounced between Cassie and Travis as if searching for visible wounds. “Long time, Cassie. Good to see you, Travis.” He sounded like he meant to say, Good to see you in one piece.