Forever Dreams (Montana Brides) (3 page)

The thought of shooting an animal sent a shiver down Gracie’s spine. “I think I’ll pass on the hunting, but fly-fishing sounds like fun. What would you be doing if you weren’t in your truck with me?” she asked.

 
“I’d be out on my horse, moving cattle. We’ve got over thirteen thousand acres on the Triple L. Moving stock over the spring and summer months is a big job.”
 

Gracie heard the smile in his voice, sensed the deep pride he felt for his land and cattle. She could understand that kind of devotion. Teaching gave her the same rush of pleasure. It was more than the satisfaction of a job well done. It was knowing you were making a difference.
 

She took a small paperback out of her carry-on and flicked through the pages.

“What have you got there?”

She tapped the edge of the cover on her chin and grinned at her new boss. “I believe it’s called a book. How many acres did you say you own?”

“Thirteen thousand.”

She turned the page, counting out numbers in her head. “That equals about five thousand hectares.” She tried to imagine what a hectare of land looked like. City girls from New Zealand thought in terms of square meters. Townhouse sized square meters. No one she knew owned anywhere near one hectare, let alone five thousand of them.
 

“What’s the book called?”

Flipping to the front cover, she said, “Americanisms in Plain English.”

“You need a dictionary to understand what I’m saying? I can speak real slow if that helps you, honey.”

 
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. McKenzie. My brain works just fine, thank you.”
 

A smile worked its way across Trent’s face and Gracie held back a sigh. Before they’d left the shopping mall, Trent had thrown his hat on the back seat.

Without half his head in shadow, she was able to fully appreciate the sharp angles of his face. A strong jaw, pouty bottom lip and the hint of a dimple in his chin turned a rough and rugged cowboy into someone a girl should step carefully around. He had the kind of looks that could sweep an unsuspecting female off her feet and straight into his bed.
 

As she contemplated the likelihood of anyone ever sweeping her off her feet, he turned and looked at her. Gracie’s heart pounded. Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep her brain focused on safe questions. “How many people work on your ranch?”

“Including me there’s eleven of us. Less in the winter. You’ll meet my brother, Jordan, when we arrive.”

Gracie didn’t know if he was making conversation or warning her. One McKenzie brother had turned out to be trouble. Two of them on the loose would be pure insanity.

Gracie could have sworn they’d passed the boundary of the Triple L Ranch over ten minutes ago, but she still couldn’t see the homestead.
 

Trent pointed at what would have been a large lake, but the water level was so low that it looked more like a crater on the moon. “The runoff from the mountains feeds a couple of large, spring fed creeks. And the water from the creeks irrigates the entire ranch. At the moment we’re in the middle of a draught so the lakes we’ve created are only a third full at best.”

“When did it last rain?”

“A couple of months ago. Every summer it gets worse. We’re not as bad as other ranches, but it has the same impact. Feed prices skyrocket and we’re on water restrictions.” He gazed out of the window, looking across the fields toward the mountains in the distance. “Even with a draught, the land’s still amazing. If you want to go out hiking I’ll give you a map of some of the trails around the ranch. Yellowstone National Park’s only a short trip away. You’ll find some great walking tracks through there.”
 

“What about Yogi Bear? Does he ever come visiting?”

“It’s not the grizzlies you have to worry about, it’s the wolves. Especially high in the mountains.”
 

Gracie swallowed. Apart from her mom’s dog, Tornado, she’d never been particularly fond of four legged canines. Most big dogs looked her in the eyeballs, and even though she was pretty quick, four legs could outrun two human feet any day. Skipping the long walks and concentrating on something a bit closer to the house, like fishing, suddenly took on more appeal.
 

“Do you have other people working on the ranch like I am?” Gracie asked.

Trent’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “You mean like a dude ranch?”

“Exactly. Campfires, cattle roundups and horse trails. I bet there are heaps of people who’d enjoy seeing Montana in all its glory.”

“You’re an exception. Group visits aren’t going to happen here. This is a working cattle ranch, not an amusement park.”

She knew she’d said something wrong as soon as she looked at Trent’s clenched jaw. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
 

“You didn’t offend me.” His death grip on the steering wheel relaxed as he settled back into the seat. “My brother’s been trying to convince me to set up a dude ranch, but I’m not buying into all the cowboy hype. We earn our living off the land, not people.” She couldn’t understand Trent’s reluctance to open his home to strangers, but then she didn’t understand much about his life. From what she’d seen so far, she was just glad he’d decided to let her stay on the ranch.
 

The driveway turned toward a clump of tall pine trees. Peeking out from above green branches she could see the top of a stone chimney. As a house came into view, Gracie swallowed a lump in her throat.
 

Oh, my.
Special didn’t even come close to describing the incredible home.
If ever a house lived and breathed the Wild West, then this was it. She’d seen pictures of log cabins, but never any of this size and beauty.

Spread over two levels, the log house sheltered under a high pitched shingle roof. An enormous stone chimney, in the centre of the house, teased her imagination into dreaming of roaring fires in the depth of a snow covered winter. The side gable was made entirely of glass, supported by wooden beams shaped like spokes on a wagon wheel. A veranda wrapped around the front of the house, creating lots of comfortable nooks to take in the glorious view of mountains and pasture.
Her jaw dropped when Trent stopped the truck by the entrance. “This is your house?”

“Yep.”

“You live here all by yourself?”

“Sort of. Mrs. Davies, our housekeeper, has got her own living quarters attached to the far side of the house. Jordan moved into the bunkhouse a couple of months ago, but most days he comes across to raid the pantry. Apart from that, I’m on my own.”

Sliding out of the truck, Gracie stared at his beautiful home.
 

Trent reached into the back seat, grabbing a few of the bags. “Come on in and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. I’ll get the rest of the shopping later.”

The inside of the house was every bit as wonderful as the outside. The ceiling in the foyer soared high above Gracie’s head. Golden timber logs bathed the house in a warm and welcoming glow, seeping deep into her tired body. As Trent moved up the staircase she ran her hands along the wood, absorbing the essence of what made this home special.
 

She thought about her mom’s house back in New Zealand. The one-hundred-year old villa had been her sanctuary. It had given her a sense of peace when her life had been a tumble of emotions, and stability when her world crumbled around her. Trent’s house gave her the same feeling of protection. She felt like she’d flown over eight thousand miles from home and found a haven for lost souls.

“You’re awfully quiet back there. Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know what to say. Your home’s beautiful.”

Turning at the top of the stairs, he grinned at the stunned expression on her face. “Nice to know something can leave you speechless, little one.”

“Be nice, Mr. McKenzie.”
 

A deep rumble of laughter filled the stairwell.
 

“Is that you, Trent?”

Trent looked behind him, smiling at a woman coming out of a room further along the landing. “Mrs. Davies, come and meet Gracie.”

Mrs. Davies walked toward them. She had a kind face that looked as though it laughed easily, and a shiny cap of silver hair that had been cut by someone with a good eye for fashion. But best of all she was only an inch or two taller than Gracie.

“Welcome to the Triple L, Gracie. Please call me Adele. Trent and Jordan have called me Mrs. Davies their entire lives and they refuse to call me anything else.”

“Hi, Adele. It’s nice to finally get here.”

A warm smile lit the housekeeper’s face. “Your bedroom’s all ready for you. There are fresh towels in the bathroom and if you get cold during the night there are extra quilts in your closet.
 
If you need me for anything just head downstairs and follow the hallway as far as it goes.”

 
“Thank you.”
 

“You’re welcome.” She turned toward Trent. “Dinner’s all cooked and waiting in the kitchen.”
 

Trent nodded. “Thanks, Mrs. Davies. I appreciate you helping out at short notice.”

“It’s no bother. You’d better show Gracie her room before you drop all of those shopping bags on the floor. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Gracie followed Trent into a room further along the landing. A huge bed with a brass headboard sat against one wall, piled high with blue and white cushions. A vase of bright yellow daisies sat on a white chest of drawers, and a rocking chair took pride of place in another corner.
 
But it was the view of the mountains that drew her across the room to the window.
 

Trent left Gracie’s clothes on the bed and stood beside her, nodding into the distance. “That’s Beartooth Mountain. If you look hard you can just make out Granite Peak. It’s the highest point in Montana. All of the ranges in front of us are part of Yellowstone National Park.”

He stood in silence while she took stock of her surroundings.
 

“I take back any misgivings I might have had about coming here.” A little catch caught the tail end of Gracie’s voice. “This is the most incredible place I’ve ever seen.”

 
“Don’t talk too soon.” Trent crossed his arms and scowled at the land. “Some folk get mighty sick of looking at the same view. Being isolated on a ranch in the thick of winter can drive people crazy. It’s not an easy life if you’re not used to it.”

How anyone could get tired of looking at such amazing scenery was beyond Gracie. As she turned from the window, a huge yawn locked her jaw in place.

“You’re tired. Why don’t I leave you to get settled? When you’re ready, you can meet me in the kitchen for dinner.”

The thought of a quick shower and clean clothes made her smile. “You’ve got a deal. Which way do I go to get to the kitchen?”

“Follow your nose down the stairs and turn left. Mrs. Davies put chicken casserole and dumplings in the oven earlier. You won’t want to miss that for anything.”

Trent took a quick look in the oven, and then turned toward his office. He figured he’d have a good hour to check his messages and get some work done before Gracie made an appearance.
 

Half an hour and six messages later, she stood in the doorway, scanning his office with a grin that put his blood pressure on full alert.

“I should have known you’d be a tidy freak,” Gracie laughed. “Not one file’s out of place.”

Sitting back in his chair, Trent surveyed the little red-headed minx that changed appearances like a chameleon. She’d left her hair hanging loose and fluffy around her shoulders. The overhead lights picked up copper streaks, glowing like a soft red halo around her face. Any resemblance to angelic perfection stopped the moment his gaze skittered down her body.

Gracie had opted for a bright red t-shirt that proclaimed her
Montana born and bred
, and tight black leggings that did a lot for his appreciation of the female anatomy. Thick, baggy green socks completed an outfit made for comfort rather than style. He could get used to Gracie’s brand of comfort real quick.

“I’ve got something for you.” Pulling a bag out from behind her back she passed it to him.

“When did you buy this?” He squeezed the Wal-mart bag carefully.
 

“It won’t bite.”
 

He raised an eyebrow.
 

 
“Just open it,” she laughed. “It’s something that’ll come in handy on the ranch.”

Peeling the tape from the top of the bag, he pulled out a black t-shirt.

“Read the front.” She grinned from ear to ear.

His eyes narrowed as he read the large white lettering.
I’m not bossy. I just know what you should do.
He looked at Gracie. “Are you trying to tell me something, short-stuff?”

“Trent McKenzie, I do believe I see a faint blush on those cheeks of yours.” Leaning forward, she patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me. I doubt anyone else on this ranch has noticed your natural assertive streak. Besides, it was either this t-shirt or one that said,
Save a horse. Ride a cowboy.
”

Gracie shot across the room, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. He wasn’t going to ignore the dare shinning as bright as a full moon in her direct gaze.
 

Very slowly he began to unbutton his denim shirt.
 

Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

A slow grin spread across his face. “I thought I’d try on the t-shirt you bought me.” Button two slid undone.

Color flooded Gracie’s face. Licking her bottom lip, her gaze locked on button number three. “Goodness. I think I’ll just go and check...the chicken.” Backing out the door, she nearly collided with the kitchen wall. “It sure smells good.”

He heard what sounded like a chair hitting the floor, followed by a very unladylike curse rocketing around the room. “You okay out there?”

“Fine. Just peachy.”

Trent stripped out of his shirt and hauled the new t-shirt over his head. With a smile on his face he walked into the kitchen.