Forever Dreams (Montana Brides) (29 page)

Gracie and Karen finished making the coffee and put the muffins on a plate.

 
“Look at what I’ve got.” He walked into the kitchen with a big basket of strawberries dangling from his hand. “Fresh from our garden.”

“They’re huge.” Gracie had never seen strawberries as big or as red as the one’s in Jim’s hands.

“We breed things
supersized out here in Montana.”
 

Gracie smiled at his lopsided grin. “I’ve noticed that.”

“Don’t believe a word he’s saying,” Kristina laughed. “You need to show Gracie some photos of her great-great-grandparents. They were both five-foot nothing, but managed to tame a wild piece of land better than anyone twice their height could have done.”

Gracie felt lightheaded. She had great-great-grandparents. She had a whole family tree branching out all over the place. She wasn’t Gracie Donnelly, only child, anymore. She had roots.
 

Kristina passed Gracie a mug of coffee. “Put those strawberries on the counter, Jim and have a coffee.”
 

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at his wife. “I thought you might like to take a look around the ranch one day, Gracie. You’re a bit small for a bronco, but if you want to learn how to barrel race I could get you on a horse and teach you all the basics.”

“Don’t listen to that husband of mine. He’ll have you on the rodeo circuit before the end of the year if you let him.”

A bubble of happiness grew inside Gracie. She’d found her father and a family she hadn’t known existed. She should have felt like the luckiest person alive. And she did. Almost.

Later that evening, Gracie was ready for a night on the town with Jordan. After talking with Karen, she’d decided to wear a black miniskirt and a deep blue glittery top that showed off her new tan to perfection. She’d twisted her hair into a top knot, adding small diamante earrings from her favorite store in Bozeman. Stepping into a pair of black high-heels, she headed toward the living room.
 

Jordan was busy talking to his mom when she walked through the doors. “You’re here early.” Gracie smiled as his eyes skimmed her outfit. “Do I look okay?”

“More than okay. Half the men in Bozeman will be wanting to find out who the pretty little redhead on my arm is and the other half don’t count ‘cause they’re married. And before you ask, mom has already fed me. Are you ready to paint the town red?”

“I don’t know about red. A pale shade of pink is about all the fun you’ll get out of me tonight.”

Jordan hooked his hand around Gracie’s arm. “Did I ever tell you that pink is one of my favorite colors? Bye, mom. Don’t wait up.”

Gracie walked over to Jordan’s mom, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got my key. Thanks, Karen.”

Charlie’s Bar and Grill sat on street level of a building built nearly one hundred years ago. A long, thick, timber bar, ran along one side of the room with a big square hatch providing easy access to food from the kitchen. Wrought iron lights hung above each wooden booth, shining soft cream light on the people laughing and talking below. A jukebox glowed red and orange in the far corner, picking random country and western songs from its playlist. The restaurant was full of people enjoying thick steaks, cold beer and toe-tapping music.
 

Jordan introduced her to a group of his friends. She enjoyed a few dances with some of the men and easy conversation with their female partners. Word hadn’t made it onto the general grapevine that Trent and Gracie were getting a divorce. To her relief, no one seemed to think it strange that Jordan had brought his sister-in-law out on a Saturday night.

Jordan dropped his glass of beer on the table. “Jeez. Don’t look behind you. Trent’s arrived.”

Gracie choked on a peanut she’d swallowed. Jordan’s big, beefy hand thumped her on the back, nearly sending her flying across the room.
 

“Oops, sorry. I forgot you’re such a tiny thing.” He pulled her close, trying to hide her beside his considerable bulk. “Just stay there and don’t move. If we’re lucky he’ll ignore me and not see you.”

Gracie rotated her shoulder blades, checking no bones had been broken. She quickly grabbed her glass of water off the table, trying to control her coughing before Jordan tried his anti-choking moves again.

“Are you okay, Gracie?”

Looking up into Trent’s grey eyes, she gulped back the water washing down her throat. The glass in her hand shook so much she had to put it down. She took a deep breath. Other than the love-of-her-life standing in front of her, not willing to admit he felt the tinniest bit smitten toward her, she was just dandy.

“Fine, thanks. You?” Gracie stretched her face muscles into what she hoped looked like a polite smile. Forty-eight hours ago she’d been happily living on the Triple L. She’d resigned herself to being Gracie McKenzie for another few months and enjoying the hottest sex of her life. Her biggest worry had been how she’d tell Trent’s family that their marriage had been a lie.

Two days later here she was, passing the time of day with her soon to be ex-husband, in a downtown bar in Bozeman.
 

Gracie stared at Trent’s clean shaven face. He didn’t look as though he’d become an emotional wreck without her in his life. He looked, well…normal. Leaving him high and dry on his beloved ranch didn’t seem to have made a dent in his life. She thought he would have looked a little rough around the edges. A little lacking in sleep. But he looked…perfect. Too damn perfect.
 

She felt like snarling at his lack of insight into the workings of the female brain, let alone a lovesick heart. Wiping her hands down the side of her skirt, she tried to act as if it was no big deal that he was standing in front of her.
 

“What’s taking you so long, sugar?”

Jo-Jo Allen squeezed her size one body between Jordan and Trent. With everyone’s attention focused on her tight white t-shirt and substantial chest she hooked her hand through Trent’s arm and wrapped her body along his side.
 

The piranha of the west had arrived.
 

“Trent darlin’, I’m ready for you,” Jo-Jo gushed.

Gracie’s eyebrows rocketed off her face.
 

Trent cleared his throat.
 

He’d need to do a lot more than that to keep Gracie from throttling him.

Jordan bristled at her side. He glared at Trent, tugging Gracie out of Jo-Jo’s reach.
 

Pulling her spine stiff, Gracie maximized every last inch of the heels strapped to her feet. At least one brother had morals. Her husband’s standards had dropped so low that if he scuffed his cowboy boots against the ground he’d be knocking on the gates of hell.

Trent sent a sizzling look toward her.

Gracie glared back. If the man thought one look would bring her to her knees, he was sadly mistaken. Parading his piece of hanky-panky on his arm in front of his soon-to-be-ex-wife didn’t add to his charm. He only needed one wife at a time, for cripes sake, not a whole herd of them. Gracie smiled at the thought of Jo-Jo wrapped in cow-skin. That thought alone gave her an extra spark of encouragement in the grim reality of Trent’s two-timing tendencies.
 

“It looks as though you’ve got your hands full, Trent. I’d hate to keep you from your
friend.
” Gracie grabbed Jordan’s hand, pulling with all her might. “Come on cowboy, you promised me the next dance.” After a couple more tugs, Jordan got the message and started gravitating toward the far side of the room.

Gracie pushed him around the dance floor, doing her best to lead him in time to the music playing on the jukebox. “I thought I’d have to get the cattle prod out to get you moving.”

Jordan sent the meanest look Gracie had even seen in the general vicinity of where Trent had been standing. “Of all the no-good, low-life, idiotic things to do. Jo-Jo Allen’s at the bottom of the feeding chain. Trent knows she’ll lick anyone’s leftovers quicker than you can blink. What’s the man thinking?”

Gracie didn’t like the sound of Jo-Jo’s tongue getting the chance to lick any part of Trent McKenzie’s anatomy. She twisted around to see where Jo-Jo’s tongue currently resided. “I can’t see what they’re up to. Give me a commentary, big man.”

As they shuffled around the dance floor, Jordan kept his eyes plastered on his brother, and Gracie kept her ears plastered on Jordan.

“She’s leaning forward and fluttering her eyelashes at him, like she’s got an allergy or something.”
 

Gracie grimaced at Jordan’s description of Jo-Jo doing what she did best. It would have been almost funny if it hadn’t been her man on the receiving end of those lashes.

“What’s he doing?”

“Standing there like a man caught in the glare of headlights. Hang on a minute.”

“What?” Gracie tugged on his arm to remind him he was supposed to be her eyes. “Spit it out. What’s happening?”

“Trent’s turning toward the door. It looks as though he’s leaving.”

Gracie almost didn’t want to ask, but knew she had to. Too bad if it made her look desperate. A woman had to protect what was hers, well almost hers, if you discounted running out on your husband and telling him you wanted a divorce. In her books that still counted as proprietary rights. “Where’s Jo-Jo?”

Jordan’s shoulders relaxed as he moved to the right. “She’s sidled over to Frank McCall. He’ll keep her occupied for the rest of the night.”

Gracie heaved a sigh of relief. Disaster averted. There’d be no licking on the Triple L tonight.

Trent jammed his hands in his pockets and walked across to his truck. Of all the dumb-ass things to do on a Saturday night, he had to pick the one bar Jordan had brought Gracie to. The ranch had seemed too lonely since she’d left. It had only been a couple of days for God’s sake, and he’d been wandering around the house picturing Gracie in every room. Even his first wife hadn’t managed to confuse him as much as Gracie did. In six weeks he’d turned into a messed-up fool, needing a female to make him feel good about himself. And damn his brother for taking Gracie out on the town. Whose side was he on, anyway?
 

Trent looked over his shoulder as he reversed out of the parking lot. Gracie’s pink suitcase sat on the backseat. He’d been going to drop it off at his mom’s place, but didn’t want to run the risk of bumping into Gracie. So much for good intentions. He’d not only managed to find her in a downtown bar, but he’d nearly ended up on Jo-Jo Allen’s menu.

Gracie hadn’t seemed the least bit interested in the fact that Jo-Jo had designs on him. That really showed how much she’d gotten over their two week marriage.
 

How much she’d gotten over him.
 

What she didn’t know was that half of Bozeman happened to be on Jo-Jo’s list of appetizers. Only the chosen few got to be main courses and Jo-Jo had been after him since she’d first started wearing lipstick. He hadn’t been interested then, and he sure as hell wasn’t interested now.

Turning right into Jackson Drive, he stopped and glared at the red traffic lights. Saturday night in downtown Bozeman and here he was, a thirty-nine-year-old man, heading over to his mom’s place for a cup of coffee and some company. How sad could life get?

“Trent McKenzie. You get your sorry ass down here this minute before I kick it into the next galaxy!” Jordan stood at the bottom of the stairs, bellowing through the house.

Grabbing his watch off the bedside table, Trent nearly fell out of bed. One o’clock. What the hell was Jordan doing screaming at him at this time of the morning? Even the bloody roosters were still asleep.
 

Trent thumped down the stairs two at a time. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out cavorting with my wife?” If Jordan wanted to pick a fight then he’d better be prepared for the argument of the century. He’d had enough of people meddling in his life. First his mother had started parading every single woman who still had her own set of teeth in his direction. And now his brother had been working overtime, trying to get on the good side of his wife. Even Mrs. Davies had been dropping not so subtle hints about missing Gracie. Trent needed to get rid of some of the testosterone building in his bloodstream and Jordan had put himself right in the firing line.

His brother stared at him like he’d turned into an insane fool. Maybe he had, but that was no reason to yell his house down at one o’clock in the morning.
 

“I didn’t cavort with anyone,” Jordan growled. “Gracie needed a bit of company, that’s all. I’ve been trying to protect what should be yours before someone else gets in on the action. But you’re obviously too thick witted to realize just how special she is. And what were you doing with Jo-Jo? If you were hoping to convince Gracie you miss her, then you’re living on another planet. All that stunt did was make her appreciate what a lucky escape she’s had from you.”

Trent pushed past his brother and headed toward the kitchen. He needed a cup of coffee real bad. He wouldn’t be getting much sleep for the rest of the night anyway. “Jo-Jo wasn’t planned. She practically landed on top of me when I walked in the door.” Grabbing a mug out of the pantry, he glared at his brother. “Gracie didn’t seem the least bit upset that Jo-Jo was there, so why the hell should you care?”

Jordan crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I care because you’re my brother and you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. What were you doing at Charlie’s
anyway? You never go out on a Saturday night.”

Trent poured hot water into his mug, nearly burning his hand as water sloshed over the edge. “I thought I’d catch up with some friends. Is that alright with you, or can’t I have a social life?”

“You don’t have a social life when you’re married,” Jordan roared. “You look after what’s yours and keep your wife happy. Gracie is not a happy woman.”

“She’s not going to be my wife for much longer, you idiot,” Trent slammed the fridge door closed. “Gracie’s never been my happy-ever-after wife. She can do whatever she wants. No one, including me, has the right to stop her heading back to New Zealand and making a love nest with some other poor sucker.” Throwing milk in his cup, he took an almighty gulp of hot liquid.
“Shit.”