Montana Cowboy (Big Sky Mavericks Book 2) (11 page)

Read Montana Cowboy (Big Sky Mavericks Book 2) Online

Authors: Debra Salonen

Tags: #cowgirl, #montana, #Romance, #contemporary romance, #western, #cowboy

BOOK: Montana Cowboy (Big Sky Mavericks Book 2)
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Serena was touched by the way Bailey included Serena in her "women like us" comment. She didn't make friends easily, but the few she held close were friends for life—and all were too far away at the moment. Mia and Bailey would be a good substitute... once she understood the motivation behind their visit.

"Will you show us your alpacas?" Bailey asked after they'd finished sipping and nibbling. "When Austen mentioned them at brunch on Sunday, I went a little fan girl. I love textiles, even though I have no aptitude whatsoever for knitting or crocheting. But felting is so hot right now in the craft scene and I have a thousand ideas for caps and hats made with artsy pins like the one Mia is wearing."

Serena picked up the stylish straw fedora. Its woven leather hatband sported a beautiful but subtle pounded copper insignia of infinity adorned with small blue gems.

"Montana sapphires," Bailey said, apparently hearing Serena's silent question. "I'm going to be expanding my shop, B. Dazzled Bling, to showcase other Montana crafts and arts. I don't suppose you spin or crochet?"

"Actually, I do. I keep a portion of the fleece to work in the winter. I still have some pieces that I brought with me. Do you want to see them?"

"Absolutely."

She led them inside. "Don't mind the mess. I still have a ton of unpacking to do. I decided to turn the dining room into my loom area."

"When do you sheer the animals?" Mia asked.

"Spring. I'll have to talk to growers in this area to figure out when that is."

"Usually, May or early June. July, for sure," Bailey joked.

Mia rolled her eyes. "Spring is crazy in Montana. One week the tulips are blooming, the next they're covered in snow."

Both ladies oohed and aahed over Serena's scarves, berets, slippers, and mittens. "I would love to dedicate a wall to your work, Serena," Bailey said. "These hats and scarves will fly out the door when the weather changes. And your felted beret is the bomb."

Serena couldn't stifle the feeling of pleasure and pride her new acquaintances' praise brought. Working full time and helping her parents on weekends hadn't allowed much time for her hobby. But the job she'd acquired with the Marietta School system was only part time, so any extra cash from selling crafts and wool would come in handy.

"Do you want to see the 'pacas?"

Bailey clapped with glee. Mia smiled, but Serena could tell the woman's energy was ebbing. Still, Mia kept up—even as Bailey attempted to hug every alpaca in the herd.

It wasn't until they were walking back to the SUV that Serena learned the true intent of their visit.

"My brother has not been himself lately, Serena. He told us at lunch he's seriously considering staying in Marietta." She sounded utterly dumbfounded. "Can you picture him playing cowboy on a ranch that runs itself when he's not there?" she asked Bailey.

A self-sustaining cattle ranch? Was there really such a thing? Serena kept her opinion to herself.

Bailey didn't answer, either.

"The fact is, Austen needs to go back to Helena," Mia said. "He loves Marietta, but he's always been too ambitious, too much of an over-achiever to settle for a small town life. We don't want him to get too comfortable, right, Bailey?"

Bailey held up both hands. "Don't ask me. My future brother-in-law barely tolerates me. I just came along to welcome Serena to the neighborhood."

Mia frowned. "Well, I've been thinking about this, and if Austen's serious about staying, then the only thing that makes sense is for him to run for a local office."

Serena wondered if Peyton ever tried to craft her life in such great detail when he was talking to friends.

Mia went on. "Our local District Attorney is retiring next year, and I think Austen would be the perfect person to fill the job. Unfortunately, all that bullshit in Helena has tainted his reputation. People see him as a handsome, playboy politician with less than scrupulous morals. None of which is true, of course."

Serena agreed with the handsome part. And she wasn't easily fooled when it came to trusting people, but she trusted Austen.

"What he needs is a platform that connects with regular people. If you'd let him hire a PI to find your stalker and bring that person to justice, he'd have a golden ticket. People love a knight on a white horse riding in to rescue the damsel in distress."

She's a lawyer, too, Serena remembered, suddenly.

Serena's back went ramrod straight. "I'm not a victim and won't play one in this charade you want to create to buffalo the voters of Crawford County."

Bailey's eyes went wide and her lips smushed together as if trying not to laugh. Mia blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting Serena's response to her generous offer of sainthood.

"Since you don't know me, and your blabbermouth brother apparently only mentioned one small aspect of my life, you should also know I'm a college-educated professional currently employed by the Marietta School District. I am a strong, independent woman. I moved to Montana on my own, for God's sake.  The only reason I even have a stupid stalker is because I stood my ground and refused to be cowed by a bully. I don't need some western knight in cowboy boots with a degree from Harvard fighting my battles... and I sure as hell, excuse my language, won't play the victim for your brother's PR campaign."

She pointed to the table. "Thank you for the chocolate. It was worth finding out my momentary lapse in judgment was so bad. If you'll see yourselves out, I have work to do. Unlike your privileged brother's place, my ranch doesn't run itself."

Serena was still fuming when the SUV reached the end of the driveway and drove out of sight. As part of her rental agreement she'd agreed to ride Paul's daughter's horse a couple of times a week. When better than now, she thought, yanking the cinch tight around Skipper's belly. She'd pay her neighbor a visit and give him a piece of her mind.

CHAPTER 7

––––––––

"F
ine. Yes. I'll do it." He listened a moment longer. "Mom, I can handle it. They're kids, not insurgents."

His mother had called to ask Austen to supervise his nieces and nephews at Paul's house this afternoon so she and Dad could have a little break. No problem. Paul had a great pool, and how hard could it be to referee four kids for a couple of hours?

"I'll be there at two, he said before hanging up.

He glanced at his watch. What was Serena doing? Would she have time to take a break and go with him?

"No," he muttered, pulling on his board shorts. He had to quit thinking about Serena. Bad enough he slept with her every night—in his dreams. Last night, they were swimming in a pool without sides. The concept made him nervous. Boundaries were what gave things depth and stability. Serena understood and showed him that the walls of the pool existed but were invisible. Using a giant needle and alpaca yarn, she helped him stitch a beautiful, rainbow-hued border around the pool.

Then, they made love. With slow, purposeful finesse.

"Feel better now?" she'd asked when they clung to each other, replete. "This will last a lifetime because alpaca wool gets stronger when it's wet."

When he woke this morning, that question was the first thing he would have asked if she'd been in his bed. "Is alpaca fiber stronger when it's wet?"

He had no idea if that was true.

Why did calling her sound like such a good idea when it really wasn't?

He'd just finished packing a change of clothing into his gym bag when Stuart's Queensland Heelers, Jessie and Blue, started raising a ruckus.

He glanced out his bedroom window but didn't see anyone pulling into the compound. Concerned that something might have happened to one of the animals, he pulled an orange tank top over his swim trunks, shoved his feet into a pair of sandals and hurried out the back door.

A familiar-looking pinto danced skittishly as the two dogs continued to bark. The rider seemed to have the situation in hand, dismounting with grace.

"Serena."

A sweet, delicious feeling blossomed inside him. A smile appeared like magic on his lips. Only the fact he was wearing flip-flops kept him from breaking into a run.

"Hey, neighbor," he hollered, signaling to Stuart to call off his dogs.

A whistle cut the air and both dogs took off for the barn.

Serena followed the sound, shielding her eyes. She smiled and waved her thanks to his foreman then looped Skipper's reins around a metal post, leaving enough length for him to drink from the water trough.

"This is a nice surprise. How are you?"

"I'm good. Or, rather, I was until your sister decided I'd make the perfect poster child for your next PR campaign."

"Huh?" He couldn't wrap his head around her words because, honestly, lust had flat-out set off a buzzing sensation in way too many parts of his brain and body.

Images from his dream flitted across the mini-screen in his mind. Memories of making love with her surfaced as brilliantly as if they'd just done the deed. A warm breeze blew up his shorts reminding him just how easy it would be to get naked and make love with her again.

But the stern teacher look on her face shot down his fantasies, like a mid-air collision in some big screen, high budget film. "I. Am. Not. A. Victim," she stated succinctly.

Those five words came in loud and clear. "I know that."

"Then, why does your family think you're hiding out here playing cowboy and I'd make the perfect rehabilitation project to get you back in the game?"

He groaned. "What? Who said that? Mia, of course. God damn it. She quit her job and moved in with the folks and she's a hormonal mess with too damn much time on her hands. I'm going to kill her."

He pivoted sharply, nearly wrenching his ankle when his heel slipped off the thick black rubber pad of his sandal. "Fuck. Where's my phone?" He started toward the house. "I'll call her right now. I don't know what she said to you, but—"

Serena caught up to him and grabbed his arm. "Wait. First, we settle this thing between you and me. You can deal with your sister and future sister-in-law later."

He stopped. "Bailey, too?" His temper spiked. Paul might have found a way to forgive and forget, but Austen wasn't that magnanimous. "She's signed on as Mia's minion? What a suck up!"

Serena clapped her hands to her hips. "Seriously? You're passing judgment on Bailey? You? The guy who gossiped about my personal life with your whole family?"

He blushed like he hadn't since he was in fifth grade and Mrs. Cheever caught him looking down Belinda Jepperson's shirt.

"Bailey isn't my favorite person."

"Why? I thought she was delightful."

"It's family history. She and Paul dated in high school. She was a year ahead of him. She was Fair Queen. Hot stuff. Way out of Paul's league, but somehow they got together. She got pregnant and had an abortion. Nothing good came of it."

Her brows narrowed. "How do you know?"

"I know how upset my family was after she broke my brother's heart and left town."

She shook her head. "You don't know squat. You didn't live it. You observed and made judgments based on your life experiences and opinions. Just like my stalker who thinks he knows what's best for me. He doesn't. He can't. You can't know what Paul and Bailey went through or they how they feel now."

"She did something contrary to my family's beliefs, our Catholic faith."

"Is Bailey Catholic?"

"I don't think so, but—."

"But nothing." She held up one hand, like a crossing guard. "Your rules influence how you live life. You don't have any right to judge me, or Bailey, or anybody else by your edicts. And I'm pretty sure if you looked hard enough in the good book of your faith, you'd find something about not sleeping with your neighbor on the first date. Did that come up in conversation?"

"Of course not. I don't kiss and tell."

"You said enough for people to read between the lines, apparently. Mia and Bailey brought tea and chocolate. Bailey wants to sell my alpaca crafts in her store. And your sister is ready to back you for the job of Marietta DA if I sign on as Victim of the Day."

He groaned again. Mia's wild idea. One he'd squashed. Or so he thought.

"I'll fix this. I promise. I'm sorry. You have no idea how embarrassed I am. Worse than the time in seventh grade when Mia did a science fair project that involved interviewing all the girls I'd supposedly kissed."

She uncrossed her arms. He could tell some of the fight went out of her. He wanted desperately to hold her, reassure her. But how could he, when he knew he'd screwed up—not only with his family but also by bringing her into the limelight?

"She didn't."

"Ask her. She thinks I'm the one with keen ambition and laser focus, but it's her. I like to win, but I know how to pick my battles. For Mia, everything is a battle." He shook his head, trying to get a better read on her expression. "Take my advice. Never play Battleship with her. Or Monopoly. Or any board game, for that matter."

Her shoulders lifted and fell a tiny bit. "My brother is the same, but he traded board games for computers. He plays on a level somewhere in the stratosphere."

"I was going to call you today. Have you decided what your plans are? Stay put for now or try to move? You said moving wouldn't be easy, but I know you feel uneasy about what happened the other night with Will Paulson."

She heaved a sigh that told him what a challenge this mess had been for her. He felt like the world's biggest jerk.

"I'm not going anywhere. I don't have time to find a place and build new shelters before winter. The crew I hired to put up the ones I brought from home is coming this week."

He admired her bravery but besides that, he liked knowing she was going to be next door.

"Good. Because I asked Paul to install an electronic gate like mine across your driveway." When she started to protest that she couldn't afford the expense, he added, "I told Paul I'd pay for it since it was my fault your photo wound up in a public blog, but Paul said he'd do it at cost since a privacy gate will add to the value of his property." Austen didn't mention that that discussion is what brought Serena's past to the table.

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