Montana Actually (8 page)

Her hand paused on the beer tap and she stared at Josh. “You were in the hardware store?”

He met her gaze, only unlike last week when it had burned so hot and bright, it was now back to its more usual observing yet slightly detached expression. “I was. I’m installing a water filter for my coffee machine.”

Ty paid for the beers. “I hear you. I installed one for mine but, word of advice, Josh. With this crowd, it’s probably best not to talk about coffee machines in the bar.”

Josh raised his glass. “Thanks for the tip.”

“I’ll get your burgers,” Katrina said, walking away pinching herself to check that she really was alive and still in Bear Paw. It was necessary because not only had cowboy Ty Garver developed a taste for real coffee, Josh had just accepted some advice from a local without looking like he was sucking on lemons.

—

JOSH
glanced around at the bar. There were plenty of wooden tables with matching country-style chairs with turned legs that looked like they’d been new about twenty-five years ago. There were some booths along one wall, and closer to the bar was a small stage. Two cowboys were playing pool and being cheered on by two young women who looked to be barely legal drinking age. Beer and hard liquor seemed to be the drinks of choice. He couldn’t see a single glass of wine anywhere.

When he’d accepted Ty’s invitation, he’d had no clue this bar was the one where Katrina worked, but he was fast learning that it was easier to avoid the common cold than to avoid Katrina McCade. After the way she’d kissed him, he wasn’t certain he wanted to avoid her one little bit.

He’d been in town for three weeks and four days, and although the shock at how small the place was had faded slightly and he was slowly finding a routine at work, he hadn’t banked on the loneliness. Soul-sucking, mind-numbing loneliness. Sure, he saw people every day, but most of them were patients. The small staff at the hospital was nice enough, but he missed the rush and pace of a city hospital. He missed having other doctors around to discuss cases with and to chat about wine, vacations in warm places and, hell, in a pinch, even golf.

Every day in Bear Paw seemed to be forty-eight hours long, and to make matters worse, he couldn’t sleep. It was too damn quiet. It was light for longer. The moon was brighter than a streetlamp, the crickets were too damn noisy and the howling of the coyotes gave him chills. And last night, thoughts of Katrina—her vanilla and sunshine scent, the silkiness of her hair, the way her breasts had pressed into his chest—had him hard for half the night.

“Josh, do you play sports?”

Ty’s question thankfully broke into his reverie just as his heart rate was kicking up. “I run.”

Ty grinned. “Run east and it’s flat. Run west to climb. You been to Glacier yet?”

Bear Paw was on the road to the national park, and Floyd had told him to expect a lot of tourists calling by the ER during the summer months. “Not yet. I’m pretty much hostage to the town. If I’m not here, there’s no doctor.”

“We’re used to that.” Ty sipped his beer thoughtfully. “You should make plans to go. Randall will surely cover you for the occasional weekend, and camping there in the summer is magic. It’s the best place in the lower forty-eight to see the northern lights.”

Memories of visiting the planetarium as a kid on a field trip prompted his memory. “The aurora borealis? Seriously?”

“Yep. This is God’s own country out here.”

Katrina arrived with two red baskets, each one containing an enormous burger and a side of fries. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, Katrina,” Ty said with an easy smile. “Are you helping out on Saturday?”

She nodded. “Sure am. Everyone’s helping out on Saturday.”

Everyone?
Josh had no clue what was happening on Saturday.

“It’s been a long time,” Ty said with an indulgent look on his face. “You still remember how to rope?”

She punched him playfully on the arm. “I’m Montana born and raised, Ty Garver. That never goes away.”

Okay, then.
Josh was feeling like a third wheel as well as feeling decidedly out of the loop. “What’s happening on Saturday?”

“Branding,” Ty said, lifting the bun on his burger and squirting ketchup underneath it. “All the ranching families help one another out. This weekend it’s Coulee Creek and next weekend it’s at my ranch. It’s a fun time and there’s usually a barn dance at the end of the day. You should come.”

“I doubt you’d enjoy it, Josh,” Katrina said quickly.

Interesting.
This from the woman who’d been pestering him to interact with the locals from day one. It sounded a lot like she didn’t want him at the branding. The thing was, he’d never responded particularly well to being told what to do. “Why do you say I won’t enjoy it?”

“It’s dusty and mucky work.”

“You think I’ve never gotten down and dirty before?”

Her eyes did that wide-eyed thing again, dilating into pools of sea green warmth. “No, of course not . . . it’s just . . .”

Oh yeah
. God, she was gorgeous when she was flustered, and she’d just answered a question he’d been asking himself for days. Despite her telling him she wasn’t going to kiss him at work, she was clearly still attracted to him. And hell, after nights of reliving that kiss and the husky way she’d said,
I’m not good at all
, he’d accepted the attraction was mutual, no matter how little sense it made to him. Added to that, he couldn’t face another weekend of long, empty hours to fill between emergencies. Besides, sparring with Katrina came under the heading of fun.

She pressed her hands to her hips and nailed him with a look that said
don’t even think about it
. “You don’t have any boots.”

He scratched his jaw. “Granted, that’s an obstacle. I can’t possibly imagine where in a town filled with cowboys I’ll be able to buy a pair of boots.”

Ty laughed. “He’s got you there, Katrina. Besides, it’s our duty to show our new doctor the real Montana, right?”

Josh saw the war of emotions on her face. The woman raised with country values versus the experienced city woman who wanted to give him the bird. She slapped the bill for the burgers down next to him. “Bring work gloves. You’ll need them to protect your hands.”

He watched her return to the bar, her tight behind clad with blue jeans and swinging seductively as she walked. He swung his attention back to Ty and realized the cowboy had also been watching Katrina.

“We dated back in the day and I know that tone,” Ty said, looking curiously at Josh over the top of his beer. “Exactly what did you do to tick her off so much?”

“I come from out east and I arrived in town,” he quipped, using a local expression and hoping it would stop the conversation right there.

Ty’s forehead creased in a slight frown. “Katrina’s been living out east for a long time now. Gotta be more than just that.”

No way in hell was he admitting to an ex-boyfriend of Katrina’s that he’d kissed her senseless and that she’d returned the favor. Especially not to the only guy who’d extended a hand of friendship to him since his arrival in Bear Paw.

He slowly shook his head back and forth and went for the default setting in guy-talk. “Who knows with women, right?”

The cowboy glanced toward the bar where Katrina was pulling beer and then back at him. “Amen to that.”

K
atrina wrapped her hands around her coffee mug and gazed out the double-glazed glass doors toward the mountains. The sun was rising, hitting the peaks with pink and gold, and she smiled as anticipation fizzed in her veins. She’d always loved spring on the ranch. It was so fresh and pretty and full of hope. The mountains still had pristine snow on their gray and craggy faces, but the plains were emerald green with lush, new growth—perfect food to grow baby calves.

Exactly how many, she’d find out today. It was years since she’d taken part in a branding, and she was looking forward to getting back in the saddle and keeping busy. Keeping very busy all day roping calves and well away from Josh. As a newbie, he’d be on the ground in a branding crew with the kids. She smiled at the thought of Josh being bossed around by her young teen cousins.

Serves him right. She hoped they rode him hard.

An image of Josh on his back with her hands splayed against his naked chest exploded in her head
. No. No. No.
She was not doing this. She was so not allowing herself to fantasize about having sex with him. Not today when she’d be seeing him.

Not ever because you’re being sensible about men now, remember?

Oh, why had she tried to talk him out of coming today when she knew he didn’t like being told what to do? What she should have said was, “You must come to a branding and see how a ranch works so you understand your patients.” That would have kept him far, far away from the ranch.

“Megan, Dillon, time to go,” Kirk called as he reached for his hat. “Beau’s already out there and way ahead of you.”

“Just as soon as I’ve finished my flapjacks,” Dillon said, his words muffled by a full mouth.

“I’m good to go, Dad.” Katrina set her coffee mug down on the table. “I saddled Benji before breakfast.”

Her father frowned and glanced at Bonnie. “Actually, we have you down for food today.”

No. I need to be up in the saddle and far away from Josh.
She looked toward Bonnie. “Mom, do you really need me?”

Her mother, who was stirring a pot on the stove, pressed her hand to her lower back. “Actually, honey, I do.”

Disappointment rammed her. Her mom didn’t usually ask for help. “What about Megan? We could swap and she could help with the food.”

“I want to rope.” Megan gulped the last of her coffee and stood up.

“You roped last year and you’ll rope next year.” She hated how whiney she sounded so she shot for logic. “I may not be here next year, so it makes sense for me to rope today.”

“Katrina,” her father sighed. “We’ve got hundreds of calves to brand and I need experienced hands in the saddle.”

“I’m experienced. I’ve got more experience than Megan.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure you have. It’s been years since you spent a long day working on a horse. We’re feeding a bunch of people today and I want you on the ground helping your mom with the food.”

Frustration simmered and she opened her mouth to yell that she was a grown woman and if she wanted to ride, she’d damn well ride, but her mother spoke first.

“It will be fun, honey. This way you get to talk to everyone, and I know the Ellisons are keen to hear your news.”

Fun? A day spent dodging Josh without the advantage of a horse?
She mustered a smile. “Great fun.”

“Good. It’s settled,” Kirk said, jamming his hat on his head. “Isn’t your boss from the diner coming today?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you know better than leaving a guest on their own. She can help you and your mom.”

She ground her teeth. Living at home was going to kill her.

—

BEAU
had been roping cattle all morning. As the sweet sound of the lunch bell rang out, he pulled his neckerchief away from his face. A whoop of delight went up from the crews in the portable corral, welcoming the break in the branding, vaccinating and ear tagging of the calves.

He rode out of the corral, following the other cowboys toward the line of horse rigs and outfits that declared it was a branding day. Swinging out of the saddle, he tethered his horse in some sweet grass. “Enjoy that, Scotch,” he said, patting the horse’s neck. “You deserve it.”

Ty Garver slapped him on the back as they started walking toward the food line. “Not a bad morning’s work, Beau.”

“It’s going okay.”

“I hope it goes as sweet next weekend at my place.” He pushed his hat back. “I thought Katrina was roping today.”

“Nope. She’s on food.”

As if on cue, Katrina’s voice sang out toward the growing crowd. “Y’all need to use the hand sanitizer before you eat.”

“Aw, do we have to?” a group of starving teen boys moaned.

“No. Not at all. If you want diarrhea, then you go right ahead and skip it.”

As the teens slouched back down the line, Ty said, “She sounds snaky.”

Beau nodded. “She wanted to . . . ride but Dad put . . . her on food because . . . she hasn’t roped . . . in so long.”

Ty pumped sanitizer into his hand. “Hey, Katrina,” he called out before leaving the line and walking over to her. “Can you rope for me next weekend?”

Beau moved along the line, his stomach rumbling in anticipation of the pulled beef that Bonnie always cooked on branding day.

“Hi, Beau. Do you want some bread to go with your beef?” Shannon Bauer, her blond hair scraped back in a ponytail and a smile on her face, was holding out a roll toward him.

His throat tightened, strangling all sound. Why the hell hadn’t someone, anyone, in his family mentioned Shannon was coming? That way he’d have had some warning.

He sucked in a breath, squeezing it past a fast-closing throat that was intent on blocking all his words. “Sh-annon.” It came out deep and censorious.
Just great.
He sounded like a disapproving minister.

Her eyes sparkled brightly. “I can’t believe I’m here on a real ranch. I’ve always thought that cowboys wearing chaps and roping cows only happened in the movies or on dude ranches for the tourists. You know, like
City Slickers
or
Rawhide
?”

Just like the first time he’d met her, her words rushed out quickly and enthusiastically, in stark contrast to every hard-fought sound he ever made.

Despite phrasing a question, she didn’t pause for a reply; in fact, she started to sing softly in a very lyrical voice. “Don’t try to understand ’em, just rope, throw and brand ’em.” She laughed self-consciously and her cheeks pinked up.

She looked utterly kissable. “Yes, ma’am.”
Seriously? That’s all you can come up with?

But anything more and his stutter would take over. Fewer words were safer.

A slight crease marred her forehead and her gaze drifted down from his face, seeming to linger midchest before her chin jerked up. “You boys are mighty fine at what you do, but I guess you’ve all been riding a horse since you could walk.”

He didn’t count the years before he came to Coulee Creek. “Pretty much.”
Say something else
.
“Enjoying . . . the day?”
Geez, McCade, she already told you that.

“Very much. I just wish my son was, too.”

You have a son?
The only good thing about having a stutter was there was no chance in hell of ever spontaneously saying something out loud that should have stayed unsaid.

“That’s Hunter over there.” She inclined her head toward a boy who looked about thirteen or fourteen.

She has a kid who’s a teen
. The kid’s age was even more jaw dropping because Shannon didn’t look much older than Katrina.

For whatever reason, the boy was sitting apart from the other half dozen teens his age. He had his head down over his lunch plate and earbuds stuck in his ears. Everything about him said
don’t bother me
.

Beau was struck by his suspiciously clean clothes. “Didn’t he want . . .”—
breathe in, breathe out—“. . .
to be . . . in a crew?”

“I’m certain he did, but I’m his mother and it’s my job to ruin his life.”

He blinked. “Ex-cuse me?”

Her shoulders rose and fell. “I baked some of the desserts and I needed Hunter’s help unloading the pickup. By the time we’d done that, it seemed everyone had a job to do. I suggested he just go join a group, but he said he doesn’t know any of the boys. I guess they’re ranch kids, so they don’t hang out at the skate park after school.”

The kid looked both miserable and shitty, and it stirred memories. “I’ll find . . . him a crew.”

“You’d do that?” Surprise and skepticism collided on her pretty face before a smile broke through. As she served him up a huge plate of meat and potato salad, she said, “Thank you so much.”

“No worries.” He found himself grinning back at her, feeling as exhilarated as if he’d just torn down the pasture on the back of Scotch and roped a runaway cow. He decided he definitely liked it when she smiled. It made her amazing blue-on-blue eyes glisten like sunshine on water and it lifted the weariness that clung to her.

“Stop hogging the line, Beau,” Kirk said suddenly from behind him. “Move along, son. Some of us are starving.”

“Hi, Kirk,” Shannon said, turning her high-wattage beam onto his uncle. “Do you want some bread to go with your beef?”

That smile wasn’t special for you
.
She smiles at everyone that way.

His rush of elation deflated as fast as it had come, leaving him feeling foolish. The way he always felt around women. He spun abruptly on his heel and headed over to the boy to honor a promise.

—

“DOC,
you’re way too good at that,” Dillon McCade said with admiration as Josh quickly castrated yet another calf. “It makes a guy nervous.”

Josh laughed. He’d spent the day vaccinating and castrating calves and he’d lost count how many scrotal sacs he’d sliced open. “Best keep on my good side, then.”

“Hell, yeah.” Dillon released the final calf of the day and slapped Josh on the shoulder. “Job done and now it’s beer o’clock.”

Josh glanced around to see all the other crews had packed up and drifted toward a couple of pickups with coolers in the back. Not normally a beer drinker, he was hot, he was sweaty and the idea of a cold beer made total sense. He pulled off his work gloves and started walking. “Sounds good to me.”

“You made a pretty good ranch hand today, Doc,” said Lyle, one of the cowboys, as he passed him a beer. “You’ve earned yourself some prairie oysters.”

A couple of the guys slapped him on the back and a cheer went up around the group. They raised their long necks in his direction.

For the first time since arriving in Bear Paw, Josh got a sense of camaraderie, and the idea of oysters made his mouth water. “That’s great. I didn’t know you cultivated freshwater oysters in the lakes around here.”

“You might want to try cowboy caviar, too.” Lyle turned and yelled, “Hey, Katrina, the doc loves oysters and wants to taste some of Montana’s finest.”

The crowd parted and suddenly Katrina was standing in front of him holding a platter of dip and chips. It was the first time he’d been this close to her all day.

Unlike all the other days when he’d seen her, today she looked like a cowgirl. From midcalf, her jeans were inside the most colorful and decoratively stitched cowgirl boots he’d ever seen, and her checked western shirt was tucked in behind a large silver belt buckle at her waist. All of it was neat and tidy and showed off her hourglass figure. The only part of her that wasn’t controlled was her hair, the pink flush to her cheeks and her very kissable mouth. The jolt of lust slugged him hard, only this time he didn’t fight it.

Her mouth twitched. “You want to try prairie oysters?”

“Sure, why not? Do you broil them or serve them raw?”

A few of the men laughed.

“How do you like them best, Doc?” another cowboy called out.

“I prefer them raw with some lemon juice and salt.”

“Doc, we’re sure gonna love watching you eat ’em like that,” Lyle spluttered as laughter made beer squirt out his nose.

The rest of the men collapsed into gales of laughter. He kept hearing the words
lemon juice
and
raw
, and then the laughter would increase in volume again. He glanced at Katina, who was sucking her lips in as if that would stop her from laughing out loud, too, and her entire body was vibrating.

So much for camaraderie and a sense of belonging—he’d just been made the butt of an in-joke. He hated the feeling of isolation that came with it, and it rammed home how much he missed his old life, the rush and buzz of a big city hospital and living with people who understood him.

People like Ashley and your father?

Yeah, right
. Even his subconscious was punking him today.

Feeling foolish merged with strands of betrayal that Katrina had willingly entered into the joke and effectively put him on the outside. He took the platter out of her hands, put it on the top of a cooler and then placed his hand gently under her elbow. Propelling her away from the group, who were now laughing so hard they were holding on to one another for support, he ground out, “Want to fill me in on the joke? It’s obviously very entertaining.”