KEPT her eyes forward as the truck bounced over ruts and skirted vehicle-eating puddles. This situation was surreal. She was no longer in control—of anything, it seemed—but she did her best to appear unconcerned about her lack of power.
“How long were you stuck?”
Lillie Jean gave her rescuer a quick sideways look. He had a strong profile, high cheekbones. A chin that kind of said, “Don’t mess with me.” Dark brown scruff covered his jaw, but it looked as if it was the result of forgetting to shave, rather than an affectation, as was often the case where she came from. She thought his hair might be dark blond, but too much of it was hidden by the battered cowboy hat to be sure. He did not look like someone who would hurt her, but she was in the middle of nowhere and he was a stranger, so she was taking no chances. Henry also kept an eye on the guy while pressing his warm body against her chest. Her little dog was taking no chances, either.
“Since around four o’clock.” She’d arrived in the small town of Gavin around three o’clock and decided to drive to the ranch, take a look at her inheritance, meet her grandfather’s partner, then head back to town and stay in a motel for the night. She should have gone with her other plan of heading out to the ranch first thing in the morning, but she had a feeling she would have still gotten stuck.
“Long time.”
“I never expected a mud puddle to be on the other side of the corner.”
“Always expect the unexpected on a country road.”
And in life. Lillie Jean sat a little straighter in her seat as the lights of the ranch came into view and stayed there instead of disappearing as they crested small hills. What now? She’d meet Thaddeus Hawkins late at night. Probably get him out of bed. He and his nephew might offer her a bed. And she would accept, because what was her other option?
This was not the position she’d hoped to be in when she arrived.
She should have called ahead. Should have set up an appointment via her grandfather’s lawyer. There were a ton of things she should have done. Maybe it was grief, maybe it was the need to simply get away from her old life, but climbing into the boat of a car that her grandfather had kept for “old time’s sake” and driving to Montana to see the ranch and ferret out some answers from Grandpa’s partner before seeing if he wanted to buy her share had seemed like a good idea. No—it had seemed like a way to take control of a life that seemed to be barreling out of control. And, indeed, as she’d driven north, she’d started to feel almost intrepid, following a course that was so out of the ordinary for her. She was in control, and, darn it, she was going to get answers. She’d played over many scenarios in her head as she’d driven—and not one of them had ended like this.
The cowboy—Gus—slowed as he drove under a weathered wooden arch into the ranch proper, which was nothing like Lillie Jean had envisioned. A light on a tall pole illuminated two small run-down houses and another light shone on a cluster of weathered buildings—a barn and several sheds. There was movement in the shadows behind the fence next to the barn. Henry’s hackles lifted and he let out a low growl.
“Better keep hold of him until we get into the house. You don’t want him disappearing out into the pasture.”
“Are those horses?” she asked as Gus pulled to a stop next to a picket fence.
“Cows.” He shut off the engine and the headlights faded.
Cows. Of course. It was a ranch.
They opened their doors at the same time. Lillie Jean scooped up Henry and held him against her chest with one hand as she pulled her tote bag out of the truck with the other. The tire iron stayed where it was, lying on the floorboards. She felt a little foolish about her self-protective measures, but if she had it to do again, she’d do the exact same thing. A wooden sign attached to the gatepost welcomed her to the H/H Ranch. Lillie Jean’s mouth tightened. The H/H didn’t feel very welcoming...but it was half hers. The land was worth something even if all the buildings looked as if they were about to fall down.
Once the gate was closed behind her, she put Henry on the ground and followed Gus up the uneven walkway to the back door. Henry quickly did his business, then hurried back to Lillie Jean. Gus opened the door, and they walked directly into a mudroom with boots lining the wall and a broad assortment of coats and hats hanging on hooks above them. The room was freshly swept and baskets of folded clothing sat atop the washer and dryer next to the door leading into the house.
Gus crossed to the door, snapped on a light and stood back so that she could enter first. The big kitchen was as neat as the mudroom. The oak table in the center of the room was an antique and the simple white appliances were close to being antique.
“You can sleep in Thad’s room. Give me a sec and I’ll get you some sheets.”
“Where will Thad sleep?” she asked, horrified at the idea of rousting the old man out of bed and sending him to sleep who knew where.
“Where he’s probably sleeping right now. In the apartment over the bar.”
“What bar?”
“The Shamrock Pub. His bar. Our bar.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Thad doesn’t live on the ranch. He hasn’t lived here for years. He only stays here when he needs to pitch in around the place.”
Lillie Jean’s mouth fell open. “You’re saying...”
“It’s just you and me here tonight.” He folded his arms over his chest and his expression wasn’t at all amused as he said, “Do you want to go back to the truck for your weapon?”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Lillie Jean was lying in a twin bed, staring at the ceiling, too keyed up to go to sleep even though it was almost 3:00 a.m. Gus had handed her sheets for the stripped bed, pointed her in the direction of the bathroom, then disappeared down the hall to a room at the end.
None of this is going according to plan.
Not one thing. Thaddeus had been in the town she’d driven through on her way to the ranch, and, as things stood now, she was dependent on a guy who was probably going to be none too happy when he discovered the reason she was at the ranch in the first place.
A guy who didn’t know her last name, because she hadn’t wanted to tip her hand.
A guy with lip prints on his forehead.
That had been startling. It had taken a moment for her to realize that the prints weren’t lipstick. She didn’t want to think about what the prints were made of or how they got there. None of her business, but seeing them had been enough to make her flip the lock on the bedroom door. She knew nothing about this guy, except that he was extremely good-looking and walked with just a hint of a limp.
Lillie Jean rolled over, pulling the sheet with her. Her insurance covered towing, so tomorrow she’d call her company and have them get her car out of the mud—if they would travel out this far to rescue her. She truly was isolated out here in the middle of Nowhere, Montana. There were other ranches in the vicinity—she’d seen lights in the distance as she’d followed Gus into the house—but for all intents and
