Montana Cowboy. Jillian Hart

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Montana Cowboy - Jillian Hart Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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head. Yep, she was off the market. For a long, long time.

      There aren’t any cows or horses here, not that I would know what to do with them. I never hit that horse crazy phase a few of my friends went through.

      I’ve never left mine, he answered. But if you’re missing hanging with people…

      You mean instead of trees? She typed, biting back her smile.

      My sister is getting married tomorrow. I know it’s last minute, but Bozeman is only a few hours’ drive for you—

      A few hours’ drive was considered not a big deal in Montana. That always cracked her up.

      —but it will be fun, you’ll get in some social time and I think you’ll like my sisters.

      I’m sure they’re nice. But that didn’t mean she should meet some man she didn’t know, at least face-to-face. Online he was nice and she felt safe chatting with him. He was respectful and funny and friendly. But in person? Who knew what he could be like? Hadn’t she believed in the man Kip pretended to be?

      You couldn’t always tell who someone was behind the mask they wore.

      I get it, if you don’t want to come. It’s your day off. You might not want to spend four hours of it in the car.

      Yes, that’s true. And it was. She didn’t want to drive that far, but wouldn’t it be fun to meet him? He’d always come across as an amiable guy. Not overly ambitious, and decent in a country boy sort of way. She’d absolutely looked up his profile on the website when she first “met” him. His picture had been friendly—really great smile, honest violet-blue eyes and talk about handsome. At thirty, he was five years older than her, and he was solid.

      She’d liked that.

      “Jerrod, are you asleep?”

      “Whaa?” His head snapped up. He looked around and picked up the book he dropped. “Sorry.”

      This wasn’t the first time she feared that kid wasn’t going to pass the entrance exam. But at least she wouldn’t be stuck in this isolated—but lovely—spot the rest of the summer. Three more weeks and she would be in her car driving toward the state line. Woo-hoo! She couldn’t wait.

      Luke’s email popped on her screen. Too bad you can’t come. You’ll be missing out on some pretty good cake.

      Cake? Why didn’t you say so? Now I’m really tempted. Plus, I could get out of this house. Didn’t a change of scenery sound like just the thing? She was tempted to accept. She had fun chatting with him online. Would it be even more fun in person? She did miss having friends and going places. Maybe she would say yes—

      A knock rapped on the door. Mrs. Lambert sashayed in. She was tall, lean and eternally youthful thanks to a good dermatologist and Botox injections. “Honor? May I have a word with you?”

      “Yes.” She gave thanks that Jerrod’s nose was studiously in his book—or at least it appeared that way—as she rose from the desk. She tapped into the hallway.

      “I saw you and Jerrod. Coming in from the forest.” Olive Lambert drew herself up. “He ran off again, didn’t he? And you didn’t inform me.”

      “It was just for a few moments. He didn’t go far.”

      “How many times do I have to tell you? He’s fifteen. He’s old enough to learn the value of self-discipline. If he can’t do it for himself, then you will do it for him.” Concern softened harsh words, but not enough. Olive Lambert was a woman used to setting the standards and getting her own way.

      In the library, Jerrod’s head bowed lower. Honor couldn’t see his face, just the tense corner of his jaw. The poor kid. “He’s doing well over all. You know he is. He’s worked hard all week.”

      “When he wasn’t trying to sneak off to ride his bike,” Olive interrupted. “You need to keep a better eye on him. Let’s try a little harder, shall we?”

      A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Jerrod’s head bobbed lower, his total misery palpable.

      It hadn’t been an easy time for the Lambert family, with their impending divorce. She’d watched the fallout when her parent’s marriage failed, so she understood. She wished she knew how to make it easier for her student.

      “Of course.” She watched Olive tap down the wide corridor, heel strikes knelling on imported marble.

      Well, that could have gone better.

      Inside the library came the thud of a book slamming shut in frustration. Jerrod stayed in his chair, firsts clenched, muscles bunched in his jaw, upset.

      Lord, please help me find a way to help him. He was a good kid.

      “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble,” he muttered, resigned. “I just wanted to get out of this house.”

      “I know. You’ve been studying so hard.”

      “I don’t want to fail it again. It’s embarrassing taking the makeup exam as it is.” With a frustrated sigh, he opened his book. “I’m tired of being stuck here. There’s hardly anything to do. I wish—”

      He didn’t finish that thought. Instead, he launched out of his chair with his book in hand. “I’m going outside.”

      “Okay, but—”

      “I really need to get this book read. I know, I know.” Jerrod rolled his eyes and shouldered open the door.

      Funny kid. When she glanced at her screen, a picture of a gorgeous wedding cake—three beautifully decorated tiers—stared at her, a picture embedded in Luke’s email.

      Chocolate, chocolate chip cake, he wrote. Cream cheese frosting. Lots of icing flowers, as you can see. Voted by all four of my sisters as the best-tasting cake in existence. Tempted?

      Very, she wrote, hesitating. Luke was nice. He was friendly and funny and kind-hearted in his comments on the website and in the messages they had been sending back and forth over the last few months. She’d had fun corresponding with him. Maybe it would be fun to meet him?

      Then again, maybe she’d regret it. Luke McKaslin could be too good to be true. She clicked her way to the Good Books site and his user profile. His picture was a casual shot of a muscular, lean man sitting on a front porch step with one arm slung around his black border collie.

      A Stetson shaded his strong, chiseled face. His bright violet-blue eyes radiated honesty and good humor. His high cheekbones, perfect sloping nose and square jaw could have been carved out of granite and were softened by the wide generous curve of his smile.

      A big-hearted smile, she decided. Wide, approachable, a totally-good-guy kind of smile.

      The fact that he was completely gorgeous didn’t enter into the equation. She wasn’t looking for gorgeous. She wasn’t looking at all. Period. She was taking a break from romance. Unequivocally.

      But friendship? Yes, that was something she could definitely do. Luke McKaslin and

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