years his mom was still holding out that he’d find the right woman for him, but Roce feared the woman of his dreams didn’t exist. He hated to shatter his mom’s hopes of that happening, though, especially when she’d just offered this gift out of the blue. So many emotions overwhelmed him. He pulled his mother into his arms and gave her a long hug.
Two months later
THE SATURDAY DRIVE from Polson to Hamilton, Montana, turned out to be beautiful. It was June 2, and the warm weather had arrived in Bitterroot Valley. Tracey Marcroft opened the window of her white Honda, drawing in a deep breath of pine-scented air.
As she took in the vision before her, she didn’t care that the breeze tangled her hair. After the last nine months, she was finally free from the responsibilities of teaching school, and was looking forward to her summer job at the Rocky Point Dude Ranch. She loved her sixth graders, but couldn’t wait to work with families who’d come out here on vacation to horseback ride, another one of her passions.
During spring break, she’d interviewed with John Hunter, a man who’d made it big in oil and owned the dude ranch. The patriarch of his large family had been a close friend of her grandpa Ben’s before moving from Polson. He’d been the one to show her the facilities and he’d made her feel very welcome. The stories he’d told about him and her grandfather in their younger years riding around Flathead country had fascinated her.
She liked John and his wife, Sylvia, a lot, and was thrilled when they offered her the job, along with her own little cabin. Besides the fact that John praised her for the way she rode and handled the horses during their ride, he’d seemed especially pleased to hear that she taught school and understood kids. They had plenty of families with younger children who could benefit from her expertise.
Tracey was indebted to her grandfather for suggesting she get in touch with John for the job. She’d always been close to her grandpa, who’d been living with her family for the last two years since her grandmother had died. Tracey wanted to be an asset to the dude ranch and make him proud. Hopefully, three months out here in a different part of Montana would give her a new lease on life.
A year ago this past Christmas, she’d expected her boyfriend, Jeff Atkins, to return from his deployment overseas so they could plan their wedding. They’d met in college at the University of Montana in Missoula.
But he’d been killed in an ambush, along with two other men in his platoon. Since then, she’d been trying to get over the pain. Her parents and her older brother, Max, had done what they could to comfort her. But time had to do the rest.
It was two in the afternoon when she reached Stevensville. She felt hunger pains and pulled into a drive-through behind a line of tourists to grab a hamburger and a soda.
While she waited, she phoned her best friend, Barb, who was married and worked as a paralegal in Polson. Tracey hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to her. During their talk, Barb promised that she and her husband would come visit over the July Fourth holiday. Pleased that she’d be seeing her friend next month, Tracey hung up after getting her meal.
She drove out to the highway again for the last twenty-minute leg of her trip. While munching on her fries, Tracey rounded the long curve in the road, marveling at the sight of the magnificent Sapphire Mountains flanking the valley. In her mind’s eye, they were filled with heaps of dazzling blue gemstones. When she’d been a child, that image had delighted her imagination. It still did.
A little farther on she saw a sign for Clayton Veterinary Hospital, and slowed down while she finished off her fries. Funny that she hadn’t seen it in the spring, when she’d first driven this way. To her recollection, there’d been a bank of trees all along the highway.
Set against a backdrop of pines was a small, yet charming log cabin. There weren’t any cars in the parking lot, but she glimpsed a horse trailer at the side of the house before she sped up.
The setup reminded her of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book Little House in the Big Woods, one of Tracey’s favorites in the series. She’d always been an avid reader. Throughout her young years she’d imagined herself as Laura, riding around on her own horse.
Tracey had gone through several horses in her life, her current one being Spirit, her gelding, who was getting very old and needed regular checkups with her family’s vet in Kalispell. Her mom and dad were taking care of him while she was gone this summer.
When she reached Hamilton, she took a left. She’d learned that the Hunter family lived in their own homes in town when they weren’t on duty at the ranch. It was only a two-mile commute to the dude ranch sitting on five hundred acres of prime land.
The large foyer with its office and check-in counter divided the big Western ranch house into two parts. One side contained the common areas, consisting of an activity room, dining room and kitchen, plus a great room with a fireplace that rose to the vaulted ceiling. The other side had been remodeled into bedrooms to house forty people at a time.
Tennis courts and a swimming pool with a cabana had been built at the side of the ranch house. The stable, barn and corral lay behind the whole facility. To the side of the corral were a dozen small cabins for the summer staff.
There were sheds housing fishing gear, white-water rafts—everything the vacationer could ask for. As John had explained, the Bitterroot River offered rafters and floaters a trip down one of the most scenic waterways in Montana, traveling through the Bitterroot and Sapphire mountains. From those vantage points, the view of the wide, lush valley was unforgettable.
The ideal setup appealed to Tracey, who pulled up in front of the ranch house to let John know she’d arrived. It wouldn’t be open for summer vacationers until the day after tomorrow. That gave her time to get more acquainted with the facilities, particularly the horses.
She got out of the car and walked inside. A cute brunette woman in her early twenties was manning the front desk. She broke out in a smile when she saw her approach.
“You have to be Tracey Marcroft.”
“Yes.”
“I’m Fran Hunter. I’m married to Wes, who’s John’s grandson. At breakfast he said you’d be coming today. He told me and Wes, and I quote, ‘She’s the most beautiful young woman you ever saw, and she can ride a horse like nobody’s business!’”
Tracey chuckled. It was hard to know what to say after that. “He sounds as full of it as my grandpa Ben, but thank you. I’ve been looking forward to meeting the rest of your family.”
“We’re a big one.”
“So I’ve gathered. I’ll try to learn names fast.”
“Don’t worry about it. Granddad is waiting for you in his office. Just come around behind the counter.”
Pleased that she acted so friendly, Tracey did her bidding. The door at the end of the hallway had been left open. She saw John seated at his desk. He was on the phone but waved at her to come on in.
A lean, lanky man with a ton of energy, he had a wonderful head of salt-and-pepper hair. “Welcome, my dear,” he said, after hanging up the phone. “Sylvia and I are thrilled you’ve joined us.” He came around to give her a hug.
“I’m the one who’s excited. Grandpa Ben sends his love with this.” She put a brightly wrapped box on his desk. “He said it’s chocolate-covered cashews.”
“My
