Surviving Love (Montana Wilds Book 1) (6 page)

Gulping down a sob, she emerged from the tree line and stopped. The world dropped away in an explosion of stars. Closing her eyes, she let the cool breeze dry her tear-streaked face. Almost without thinking, she reached into her pocket and took out her phone.

“Hello?” Mikey answered nearly immediately.

“Hey.” She paused. She had no idea what to say. How to ask for help.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, somehow hearing her thoughts.

“I went looking for her,” she blurted, sitting down with a thump. “I followed him to the office and waited for them after work. Just to see what he replaced me with. She was really pretty, Mikey. Gorgeous. Early twenties, with a great body. I wanted to try and get him back, but there was no way to compete with that. She had everything I didn’t.”

“She didn’t, Sara. Trust me, she didn’t. Where are you?”

Sara dropped her head into her hand, her elbow resting on her knee. “I just… Oh God, Mikey. It hurts so bad.”

“Where are you, Sara?”

She choked out her location, clutching the phone in a white-knuckled grip. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain, sobs wracking her body.

And then he was there. Large, strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. “It’s okay, Sara. It’s okay. We’ll get through this together, okay? I’m here.”

She nodded, curling up into his arms gratefully. Trying to just move on—trying to cut out the pain. To forget about being left for someone else. To resign herself to being alone.

No. Not alone. She had Mikey now.

Then a thought occurred to her.

“What’ll happen after the summer, Mikey? You live here and I don’t. Will that be it again?”

“Of course not,” he whispered, rocking her slowly. His cheek rested beside hers, his smell enveloping her. Love and support wrapped around her. “I’ll never leave you again. I’ll follow you around forever. Even if I die, I’ll strap on some chains and chase around after you, rattling them every time you get lonely.”

A giggle drifted out of the pain. “You would, too.”

“Yes, I would.”

“You said that to me when we were kids. When I tried to kick you out and told you I never wanted to see you again. Remember?”

“Back then it was out of spite. And yes, I do remember. I meant it just as much then as I do now. But for a different reason.”

“Same outcome,” she said, and then hiccupped.

“Yes, the very same.”

Sara closed her eyes and leaned more firmly into him, shutting down to minimize the pain. She rested her face against Mikey’s warm neck and relaxed, content to be held in his arms. Strong and safe and solid. Mikey.

T
he next thing she knew
, she was opening her groggy eyes as she was being lowered into her bed.

“What?” she asked in a daze.

“Shhh, you’ll wake your roommate. You fell asleep so I thought I’d bring you back here.”

“You carried me all that way?” she asked in that supreme confusion of just waking up. She reached up to him, hating the loss of his body heat. He leaned down so she could rest her palm on the side of his neck. “You’re really strong.”

“I get by,” he whispered with a smile in his voice. “Goodnight, Sara. I’ll call you tomorrow and see how you are, okay?”

She nodded as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Thanks, Mikey, for coming. For saving me.”

His fingertips brushed her face. “I didn’t save you—I stood next to you. We’ll battle this together, Sara. You don’t have to worry about being alone anymore. Not ever again.”

She nodded, fresh tears springing to her eyes. How had he known? She had her family, after all. And a few friends, however distant. She wasn’t really alone in the grand scheme of things. So how had he known the isolation she felt?

“I helped shape you, Sara,” he said softly, hands tracing her jaw line. “And you helped shape me. I can read you.”

“You’re starting to creep me out,” she muttered as a smile budded.

“Reading your thoughts is step one, as I recall. You finishing my sentences is step two.”

“Fistfights and bloody noses are step three.” Her lips tweaked upward.

“Exactly. And don’t expect me to take it easy on you.”

The desire to chuckle ate away some of the pain. She closed her hand around his and squeezed. “Thank you.”

“See you tomorrow.”

The click of the door in the quiet room sounded like the latch on a safe, locking her inside for safekeeping until he returned. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

S
ara’s
six-year-old self stalked up the sidewalk after school with one thing in mind. She would find Mikey Frost and demand a kiss. She would not be shown up by stupid Sally Jacobson!

Her little fists balled up and her face set in a scowl. He’d been avoiding her for three days because he didn’t want to give back her Nintendo Game Boy. Well, she’d get a kiss, and she’d get her Game Boy back, too. Enough was enough. It’d be a productive day even if she had to stand outside his window and howl.

Little legs churning, she marched right up to his house and rapped on the door. A second later his mother answered, her face staring down in puzzlement. “Sara. Where’s your mom?”

“Hi, Mrs. Frost. She’s at school still. She had to talk to my teacher. I have to run errands, though, so I came ahead.”

A grin peeked through Pam’s concerned face. “Run errands, huh? Well, I suppose that’s a better phrase to pick up than the ones my sons seem to. But you walked all the way home? Your mom must be worried sick.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Frost, but I had to. Can Mikey come out and play?”

“Why don’t you come in? I’m sure your mom will look here first.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So polite,” Sara heard as she trudged through the wide-open space and skittered up the stairs.

Mikey’s room was the last in the great hall, each boy having a room to himself in the large house. Sara didn’t even bother to knock. She pushed open the door and marched in, staring accusingly at Mikey as he sat on his bed, leaning over her Game Boy.

“That’s mine! Give it back,” Sara demanded.

“I’m almost on the last level! Get out.”

Eyebrows climbing her forehead in the way she’d so often seen on her mom’s face, she marched right up to him and grabbed the device.

“Sara!” he screeched, trying to hang on to it. “Just let me borrow it for a couple more days. I’ve almost beat this game!”

“Then you’ll just start another game. Give it
back
!
”

With a look of death, Mikey let go, smirking when Sara teetered and fell back against his dresser.

“Thank you,” she said with determination. “Now kiss me.”

Mikey’s jaw dropped. “What? Gross! You’re a girl.”

“Mikey Frost, you get up here this instant and give me a kiss. Sally is going around telling everyone that she got a kiss from Tommy Banks. She thinks she is
so
cool because she’s kissing boys. I’d rather eat a slug, but her bigger sister says that only cool girls can get a boy to kiss her, so Sally is going on and on about it. I’m cool. I want a kiss.”

“You’re just a kid,” Mikey said with a crinkled nose.

“Do your brothers kiss girls?”

Mikey’s brow rumpled. They both knew his oldest brother had something of a girlfriend. They were both pretty sure there was kissing going on.

Mikey looked at Sara with resolve. “Fine.”

He stood up and walked to his closet.

“Where are you going?” Sara asked in confusion, ready to tackle him if he tried to get away.

“I don’t want to be by the bed. I don’t need you getting any ideas.”

“We sleep together all the time.”

“Yes, but that’s different. There’s no kissing involved in that.”

Sara rolled her eyes before coming to stand right in front of him. She angled up her face and closed her eyes.

“I have to do all the work?” Mikey asked, put out.

“Just kiss me, for God’s sakes,” she replied curtly.

He bent down with puckered lips. His face bumped off hers first, and then he pushed forward again to keep his lips connected with hers for a count of ten. He pulled away with a smack.

Her eyes opened and stared up at him, assessing. “That wasn’t so bad. I didn’t mind it. Find me tomorrow near the swings and do it again. I want to see that Sally Jacobson’s face when she sees.”

“Only if I get your Game Boy for another week.”

Sara’s fists balled and her face turned red. “A
week
? I just got it. You’ve had it longer than I have already! Your parents are so rich—get
them
to buy you one!”

“My dad thinks they’re a waste of time. A week or no kiss. Deal?”

“Three days,” Sara said, crossing her arms.

“Five…”

They stared at each other. Finally, with a loud sigh, Sara relented. “Fine, but I want at least fifteen seconds in front of everyone.”

“Fine.” Mikey half-jogged back to the bed, game device in hand.

Sara stared after him for a minute, having gotten almost everything she wanted, and now not really sure what to do. Shrugging, she followed Mikey to the bed and sat down beside him, watching his progress over his shoulder.

“
S
ara
, would you mind checking over that order before you head on to Jake?” Dan was standing at the end of the hall near the service doors with a clipboard and a harried expression. “I have a guest with a bee sting that’s puffing up and the medic is in town. I need to see to it immediately but the driver is waiting!”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Sara took the clipboard and scanned the packing slip as Dan took off down the hall. She walked up to the neatly stacked boxes and checked off each item on the packing slip until she reached the potatoes. “Oh, it looks like we have one too few boxes.”

She looked up for the driver. Instead, her gaze glanced off a muscled chest in a black tank top. She looked upward to a startlingly attractive man with bold features and day-old scruff.

Her face turned red immediately. “Huu… hi.”

The man’s bemused gaze dipped down, past her face, and lingered on her chest. “Well, hello. You must be Sara, the new house staff.”

Sara cleared her throat and tucked some flyaway hair behind her ear. “Um, yeah. Yes, I mean. I’m Sara. Are you… Do you work here, or are you the driver?” She lamely held up her clipboard.

His eyes flashed and his smile flickered brighter. He leaned closer. “Do I make you nervous, Sara?”

“Oh no, ha ha. Nope, not at all. Uh…” With darting eyes, she spied an overweight fellow with stains on his shirt through the service door. He was leaning against a large white truck. “I just need to take care of this.”

She held up her clipboard for the second time, figuring, apparently, that even though her sign language failed the first time, repetition was a great idea.

Scurrying past him, she cursed her ridiculousness.
You meet an outrageously handsome man and your first impulse is to do weird things and hop around like a lunatic?

Berating herself, she stepped wrongly off the last step and nearly barreled into the lounging driver, clipboard smacking off his padded chest.

“Oh my God, sorry! I’m so sorry!” She backed away quickly, hoping the attractive man hadn’t stuck around and caught that.

The driver shrugged. “S’okay.”

“Right. Sorry. Anyway, we’re missing one box of potatoes.”

“Nah, no you’re not. It’s all there.”

Tilting her head, Sara consulted the packing slip one more time. She pointed at the number eight next to
russet potatoes.
“Well, I counted seven boxes. This says eight. Maybe I’m missing one, but I don’t think so.”

“You are. There are eight there. You probably just thought it was something else. Just sign off like the old man does, and I’ll be on my way.”

Sara hadn’t loved her job before she’d come here, it was true. If she had, she wouldn’t have quit. But just because you didn’t love something, didn’t mean you weren’t good at it.

Her business hat clicked on.

She met the driver’s eyes with a calculating gaze. “Let’s go over it together, then. Please, follow me.”

“That’s not necessary—”

Sara cut him off with her managerial eyebrow quirk. She’d taken years to perfect that expression, blending just enough power and authority to get her position across without creating enemies; it was worth its weight in gold. Without another word, she turned and walked back up the steps. The driver followed her with an irritated grunt.

As Sara entered the hallway, she flicked a glance at the smirking god, leaning against the wall in a fantastic array of muscles. Her chest grew tight. Good God, he had a great body.

“Excuse me,” she rasped through a dry throat. “I need to go over this with the driver. Maybe I can see you another time…”

“Duke.”

That name strangely fit. “Duke.” She shuffled by, dropping her flaming face toward the floor.

“Sure thing. See you soon.”

Sara caught the gluteus maximus masterpiece as it sauntered down the hall right before the driver stepped into her space. She fanned herself with the clipboard, squirming with the pounding in her knickers. She was not interested, but ho-ly Lord. The man was hot.

“Well?”

Oh yeah.

Sara turned to the driver, held out the packing slip, and started counting, ticking off each item as she checked it. On closer scrutiny, it turned out the produce was starting to wilt, the meat wasn’t as fresh as it should be, and there was, as she had previously noticed, one less box of potatoes.

This was not acceptable.

“Whaddya want me to do about it?” the man said with heat in his voice.

She hardened her gaze. “Well, first, I will reduce this order by one box of potatoes—we won’t be paying for that. Second, I’ll be contacting your management about quality control. I’d send it all back now, but I don’t want to leave the kitchen without food. I expect your organization to send better quality in the future, otherwise I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

“Oh yeah, and who do you think you are? You don’t run this place.”

No, but she was great at bluffing and playing politics. She’d needed some serious promotions to afford Phil’s gambling habit.

“I’m the one checking in your orders, and since you already think I’m a bitch, I won’t bother with the
nice guy
approach. We both have a job to do here, so let’s help each other out and get this squared away…”

The driver’s heated gaze said she was tap-dancing on his last nerve.

“Fine,” he said in a disgusted tone. “I’ll bring you something better tonight and swap out as long as you stay at the current rates.”

Oops. He’d just shown his hand. Not too savvy, this driver.

“Actually, I’ve started to shop around. I like to be thorough. Why don’t you send through your current pricing, and what can I say—if your prices are competitive, there’s no reason for us to go elsewhere.” She smoothly brought up the clipboard and scribbled some gibberish he’d think was a note to herself. His frustrated gaze never left her face.

It was like a train screeching off the track. She had absolutely no way to back up any of this, but she couldn’t help herself. It was obvious the ranch was getting hosed, and this guy was reaping the rewards. Her need to get a better deal wouldn’t let her shut up.

The driver continued to stare, a vein pulsing in his jaw.

She stared back, trying not to blink.
Please don’t call my bluff. Please don’t call my bluff!

The driver stared harder.

Sara’s eyes started to dry out.

“Fine,” the driver finally said.

Oh thank God!

“I’ll be back tonight. I’ll have the girl at the office send a quote sheet.” He turned without another word, huffed back to his truck, and slammed the door.

Sara let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Nodding down at the produce, she gave herself one moment to feel good about saving money for a better-quality product.

In the next moment, though, fear started to creep in. It was her first week and she’d managed to ruffle the supply company’s feathers, stepped on her boss’ toes, and nearly lost a vendor. Not only that, but she really should shop around to make sure that driver wasn’t pulling a fast one.

Sighing, Sara clutched the clipboard to her chest and trudged toward her room. She needed to consult Christie about this before she showed up at the guillotine.

S
ara cleared her throat nervously
. “Um, excuse me, Dan?”

Jake, May, and Dan all looked up from a piece of paper, everyone gathered around an old, worn desk in the ranch office.

It had been two hours since Sara had sent the driver away. She’d delivered the products to the kitchen herself, then consulted Christie about her interference. Christie had been equal parts impressed in Sara’s ability, and worried for her.

It turned out May and Dan had been doing things on the ranch a certain way for decades. They trusted people, whether that was ranch hands or vendors. If the deliveryman said the prices were fair, then they were. Dan would hear no different.

“But that’s just ridiculous!” Sara had exclaimed when Christie relayed this. “That company is looking at their bottom line. If they can price-gouge, they will.”

“You don’t need to yell at
me,
Miss Businesswoman.
I
know that. But Dan and May are trusting. You’re going to severely burst their bubble.”

Sara edged into the office, tingles of fear working up her back. She really didn’t want to get fired for stepping on their toes.

“Uh, could I have a word about the shipment? Please?” The clipboard in Sara’s hand started to shake.

“Oh, sure.” May pointed at the paper Dan was holding. “Listen, Sara, do you know why Joe’s Goods gave us a free box of potatoes? It says, ‘Per your request.’ And also, we got a quote sheet of some sort?”

Dan looked up from the paper in confusion. Jake was stone-faced.

Sara would kill for a smile.

“Oh, well, they shorted us a box of potatoes, so he’s going to take that off the invoice for this shipment and add it to the next. Also… um.” Sara cleared her throat for the millionth time. “Well, the produce and meat weren’t really, uh, fresh. So I asked that he swap that out at his earliest convenience.”

Dan still had a befuddled look, but May was shaking her head slowly. It was about to unravel.

Sara rushed to her own defense. “Um, and I had a feeling his prices were really high, so I asked that he send us an updated quote sheet. I was thinking, if you wanted, I would just shop around a little. Just kind of—”

“We’ve used them for fifteen years.” May now shook her head in fast jerks, a decision made. “I really wish you would’ve consulted us, dear. That is no way to do business.”

“It’s just… well, the word on the street is that he shorts you about once a week. Also, most of the stuff in those packages is nearly out of date. It’s a hazard to your guests. Plus, you’re paying top dollar. It didn’t seem right.”

“I just don’t know…” May’s disappointed expression turned to Dan.

Dan scanned the paper in his hands. “These prices are about ten percent lower than what we’re paying. And Chef Luke just said yesterday that he needs better-quality materials. I’d thought he was just being uppity, but—”

“The kid did a good job,” Jake cut in, his words clipped and precise. “Let her take care of the shipments. Seems like she’s experienced.”

The paper crinkled in Dan’s hands as he and May looked at it with frowns. The second hand on the clock hanging on the back wall clicked as it counted out time. Sara’s palms started to sweat as she held her breath, waiting for the verdict.

After an agonizing moment, May said, “Well, okay…” Sara could hear the uncertainty in the other woman’s voice.

Dan shrugged, looking up at Sara. “It seems like you got yourself another duty. We’ll treat this like volunteer points. You can skip your other volunteer tasks if you want.”

The breath rushed out of Sara’s lungs. “Oh no, that’s okay. This won’t take much time.” Sara started to back out of the room, both hands clutching the clipboard.

“If you’re sure…” Three pairs of eyes stared after her.

“Oh yes, I’ll fit it all in. I don’t have anything else to do.” She threw out a weird smile, not sure what to do with her face, just knowing they thought she’d lost her mind, and turned away abruptly.

Technically, it was still a job well done. She wasn’t sure she wanted to get this deep into this business, though. She didn’t know if she wanted to do more than scratch the surface anywhere.

Probably should have thought of that before she stuck her nose in it. The last thing she needed was to be fired and pushed away from Mikey again.