The Bride's Cowboy Read online

  “Swings first.” He picked up his pace toward the two swings, hanging at awkward angles.

  “Let’s see how far we can jump.”

  They swung, they jumped, they laughed, and for a moment, Anna felt the carefree days of her youth and remembered why she loved Thayer Falls, or why she used to. On their last jump, she pumped her legs as hard as she could. She looked over at Jed and saw him as a seventh grader again. Something about his expression, his eyes, the set of his mouth in clenched determination. Then he turned to her, and when their eyes met, a hint of the spark lit in her chest. She gasped.

  He called out, “Ready, set, go!”

  They leapt out of their swings, arms flailing, legs spinning, trying to land the farthest away.

  Jed won by at least a foot. He stood with his arms raised in a victory V, stomping in a circle.

  “Okay, yes, we know you won.” She dusted herself off, a little irritated she had allowed herself to care.

  Then his arms wrapped around her, and he picked her up and swung her in a circle. “Oh, come now, AnnaMae. You can’t win at everything all the time.” He kept going in a circle until she squealed at the roller-coaster clench in her stomach. Then he held her while the world spun around them. After a moment, he whispered, “You all right, AnnaMae?”

  She couldn’t correct him. Coming from his lips, AnnaMae was the sexiest name she’d ever heard. Her gaze lifted. His face was close, his mouth closer. “Yeah, I’m all right.”

  Her hand once again in his, they headed for the bridge. And suddenly she was thirteen again. The night was dark, lit only by the weak street lights. The hand that held hers was strong and warm instead of small and clammy. The man who walked at her side was tall and broad instead of short and wiry. Anticipation pounded in her chest.

  The spark. It was coming.

  Chapter 3

  The park looked the same to Jed. The trees stood taller, the grass bare in spots, the swings rusty. If Jed closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was back in seventh grade, walking the dark paths to the Kissing Bridge with none other than AnnaMae Caruthers. He’d thought of her now and again through his teen years in Montana. Somehow during all his awkward years, she’d seen something more in him, something that attracted her.

  And now here he was, back at the Kissing Bridge, or almost there. The dirt was dry beneath their feet, the path wide, the trees overhanging far above. “They keep it trimmed.”

  She smirked. “Maybe, or there’s been a lot of traffic.”

  He laughed. “I can see that. It was well used back when we were kids too. Though you’d know better than I.”

  “What!” She scoffed. “I told you. You were my first kiss. You make me sound like some kind of regular at the bridge.”

  They rounded a bend, and Jed laughed. “It looks the same.”

  “I told you. Nothing in Thayer Falls ever changes.”

  Her frustrated tone and wrinkled eyebrow confused him. “That’s a good thing, AnnaMae. It’s like our loadstone, our north star. Always the same to come back to.”

  She closed one eye. “Not unless you want to be stuck in backward motion.” She shook her head. “You left so you don’t understand. There’s some old thinking in this town, not the kind that brings the principal’s hot cider back into your mug on a cozy winter night, the kind that you wish never existed in the first place.”

  Her hand tensed in his. She looked away, and he wondered. “Sounds like a story there.”

  “Not one that needs telling.”

  He led her down the path. It opened up onto a large bridge, wide, with a river flowing beneath it. “Seems small.”

  She reached down into the bushes and pulled up two sticks. “Race you.”

  “Relive seventh grade it is.”

  They leaned over the edge, the wood railing shifting beneath their weight, and dropped the sticks. She ran to the other side. “Well, come on, you have to see who won.” Her hair fell forward around her face as she peered over the edge. “You know, I can’t tell which stick is which.”

  His shoulder touched hers as he joined her.

  He turned so that his back was to the railing. “I know you have your own opinions about being back here, but this is nice for me.”

  She turned, her shoulder brushing his arm, and the cool softness of her skin surprised him. “Why’s that?”

  He shrugged, not wanting to reveal too much. “Your eyes are the same, you know. I knew who you were the minute I walked into the room.”

  Her face turned a charming pink. Then she narrowed her eyes. “You could see that from across the room?”

  Ah, she was quick and not easily flattered. “Well, no. But your hair too; it’s recognizable.”

  She laughed. “Recognizable. That’s great.” She flipped it off her shoulder, the dark waves framing her face before falling down her back in thick curls. “I used to be so bothered with this mess of curls. But now I don’t mind it at all.”

  He reached his hand out to aid one erring strand in joining the rest behind her shoulder. “It’s remarkable. Totally unique. Suits you.”

  Her eyes searched his. And he understood their unspoken questions. Unsure of the answers, he laughed, “But it was when you rolled your eyes at me that I knew I had found the true AnnaMae Caruthers.”

  “Did I? Roll my eyes?”

  “Yes, right after I asked you to dance.” He enjoyed her effort to lighten the moment, to take the sting out.

  Every emotion flashed in an obvious parade across her face. “I’ve just danced with my share of local cowboys. I thought you were one of them.”

  “Well now, ma’am, I am one of them.”

  “True, but not—Jed, you’re different.” She looked down and then back up into his eyes, and when he saw their troubled expression, he regretted teasing her. “I’m glad to see you.”

  He tugged at her hand and led her to the opposite side of the bridge. “If I remember right, we were standing right here.”

  “Yes, I was here.” She leaned up against the railing.

  “And I moved here.” He stood in front of her, closing the distance.

  “Except you were much shorter then.” Her chin lifted so that she could see his face. The light was dim, the moon only lighting their world by half its glow. But her eyes shone, and he was suddenly filled with desire to know her thoughts.

  He wanted to say so many things, but they hardly knew one another. How did you tell a perfect stranger that the kiss you shared with her back in seventh grade was one of the most meaningful of your life? He shook his head.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Being here, being with you. I’m curious.”

  Her lips parted, and a spark of connection lit her eyes. “You are?” She inched closer. “Because I’ve actually thought about you, wondered how you were doing, now and then.”

  He rested a hand on her shoulder, letting his fingers trail down her arm, and linked his fingers with hers. “I’ve done the same. That moment, here in this very place.” He lifted the corner of his mouth. “It stuck with me.”

  Her eyes shot to his and widened. “Me too.”

  His seventh-grade self shouted, “Kiss her!” But his adult response tempered the scraggly youth inside. He searched her face, let his gaze linger on her mouth. Her breath hitched. He could see her chest rise. She might want him to try.

  It was uncanny how often he’d remembered her kiss, how much he’d wondered why it had been so special. Like his world had flashed before his eyes and come together in one great feeling of rightness. For a seventh grader who’d had a hard time connecting with others, the feeling had overcome him and, for a moment, healed his loneliness. Soulmate came to mind, but that was a fantasy, a thing for lovesick novelists. Still, he’d never felt the same about another kiss. Watching her expectant expression, he wanted to try again to capture that sensation. But an old curiosity, a tempting test, was not a good reason to kiss someone that he didn’t know anymore. Not to mention a good enoug
h reason to bring on complications for them both.

  He eased back and didn’t miss the disappointment in her eyes. “I’m serious about seeing you in Montana.”

  She took a half step as if to go, and he followed at her side. “I need to do some work in Helena, if that’s close,” she said with a shrug.

  “Now, I told you, anywhere in my state, and I’ll be there.” He grinned and squeezed her hand. “But it just so happens that I live outside of Helena.”

  A small bit of wonder lit her hope again. “Well, great. I guess I’ll see you there.”

  He led her back to where the limo waited for them on the street outside the park. “Where can I drop you off, AnnaMae? Still at the same place?”

  “You remember where I live?”

  “Maybe. But let’s tell the driver the address.”

  He watched AnnaMae as the car moved through town. He’d asked his driver to pass by some of the places he remembered. AnnaMae humored his excitement about the old movie theater and the shops on Main Street, but he could tell she wasn’t into the town any more than she’d said. His curiosity about her burned for many reasons, and he hoped that her trip to Montana would lead to more opportunities to know everything there was to know about her, and especially to understand why their moment at the Kissing Bridge had meant so much to him.

  Chapter 4

  Back in New York, Anna rushed down the street, bumping and brushing past the moving sea of grey and black all around her. She didn’t usually notice, but New Yorkers wore little color. For some reason, the grey hues around her stood out today. The grey of the sky, the buildings that towered up so high that she never looked to their tops now, unlike during her first week in the city. The sidewalks were also grey. Even her own clothes were grey. And suddenly, her mood turned grey too.

  Usually the energy of the city excited her, kept her going. The anonymity of so many rushing around comforted her. She rarely felt lonely, even though she knew very few people outside of work. Being near people who were actively working or in a hurry beside her was enough. She felt a rare camaraderie with her fellow New Yorkers. Usually.

  Her phone dinged. And then she smiled. Jed. When are you coming again? Cause Montana suddenly feels lonely.

  Oh yeah? Maybe I can fix that problem.

  I know you can. How many hours I gotta wait?

  She laughed and accidentally ran into the man in front of her. “Oh, sorry!”

  He grunted but stepped out of her way.

  She tapped her phone. Could she leave earlier than planned? Give herself an extra day or two? I’m coming tomorrow.

  He sent a gif. Some guy with two hands in the air celebrating. Wow. A cowboy who knew his way around his phone. I’ll send the car.

  And just like that, she had herself a date and a vacation in Montana. What did he do for work? She knew he had cattle on some acreage. But basically, she knew nothing else about this guy. And for some reason, that didn’t bother her at all.

  She pushed open the door of the Synergy Group office on the tenth floor. Joey smiled as she walked by. Best receptionist they’d ever had. “Hey, if Cathy calls, put her straight through.”

  “And you’re unavailable for Mr. Henning.”

  “You’re the pro.”

  He winked and waved while he picked up a call.

  She found her cubicle, booted up the computer, and started scrolling through her emails. She loved her job. Usually. Seeking out parcels of land and making recommendations for the creation of new national parks brought her some real satisfaction. Or it had, up until now. Her frown narrowed, and a headache started brewing. This trip to Montana might prove to be more difficult than her usual recommendations. She studied maps of the land she’d been asked to investigate. Two large pieces of private property were in question. They were an odd choice and sat barely touching already existing parkland. The problem with their location bothered her most. They sandwiched another piece of land, and designating the two areas undrivable would essentially hem the middle property in, trapping the owner inside and rendering his property useless to own or sell.

  They’d done it before, on land that was obviously not being used or land the owners showed little to no interest in ever using. But this property she wasn’t so sure about. As much as she wanted to preserve the natural beauty of the other two pieces of land by suggesting it be declared a national forest, her satisfaction was marred by the thought that she could be displacing someone in order to achieve her goals.

  Her boss, Miles, leaned over the top of her cubicle, his thick arms resting on the edge. “You ready to trap those people on their land?”

  She knew even though he winked, even though he made light of the situation, that that was exactly what he expected her to do. They received significant lobbying money as a company, and those two pieces of land were a hot number, desired by many. The longer she worked in this business, the more she realized that few were saving land for the same altruistic reasons she was. Someone’s bottom line was always involved. And she knew this time that things were no different.

  She cleared her throat. Miles would need to understand what was at stake. “I’m looking at the history of the property and I think people are actively using the middle land this time. They live there.” Her research indicated that the family had owned the land for a hundred years. The Svenssons had been the first settlers in the area. Usually in situations like this one, descendants held onto the parcels for sentimental reasons only. But these folks. She shook her head. If they still lived on the property, they were probably actively working the land.

  “Then I think it’s time we convinced them to move somewhere else. Pretty hard to backpack into your own property.” He laughed at his own joke. “You’re my go-to woman for this kind of case. Finish the job.”

  His words were light, complimentary, but she knew he was serious. And if she didn’t deliver, there better be a good reason.

  Chapter 5

  Jed held up his sign, not even bothering to dim the goofy smile that he knew was spread across his face as he watched his date for the week approach. AnnaMae looked even better than the last time he’d seen her. She wore jeans, a large sweatshirt, and––he tipped his head to double check her feet––boots. “Perfect.”

  She stopped in front of him and touched the sign. “Cowgirl needed?”

  He shrugged. “Well, sure. Do you qualify?”

  Her hand reached behind her head and brought up what he hadn’t seen before. A wide-brimmed cowgirl hat now graced the top of her head. She tipped the brim and winked. “At your service.”

  His head tipped back, and delighted, he laughed. Then he grabbed her things. “Come on, you. I can’t wait to stamp out all the big city that’s in you. We’ve got some of God’s country to see.”

  She walked at his side, her steps light, her smile relaxed. Jed could tell they were in for a fantastic week. At least he hoped so. “What did you say you do for work?”

  “We haven’t talked about it. But I’m part of a consulting firm to help designate national parkland.”

  Alarm bells dinged in his mind. “And you’re coming here to do some more of that this week?”

  “Well, we just make suggestions. We try to pick locations that aren’t in use, that wouldn’t normally be productive, or that are valuable or endangered in one way or another.”

  He nodded but didn’t respond. He knew plenty of folks who’d been kicked off their land, or worse, hemmed in by a bunch of parkland that wouldn’t permit vehicle use. It was pretty difficult to be forced to use a one-lane dirt path to get cattle in and out of property. But he shrugged it off. They weren’t here to talk business. “Then you might appreciate some of the land we’ll see. Parkland and private property. Montana holds an unfair amount of the earth’s beauty.” He winked. “Especially now that you’re here.”

  She groaned. “You did not just say that.”

  “I did. And I meant it. Just ‘cause I haven’t progressed much past seventh grade in my ab
ility to woo a woman doesn’t mean you’re gonna get anything less that this cowboy’s sincerest compliments.”

  “Mmm. I’m not sure how I feel about that.” But her smile told him all was well.

  The more time he spent with AnnaMae, the more he wanted to get to know her. “So, I know you’ve got a hotel in town, but I just keep telling myself you’re not gonna want to stay in that hotel.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with it? It had great ratings.” Her voice trailed off as she pulled out her phone.

  “No, no. the hotel is great. I know the owner.”

  She lowered her phone and wrinkled her nose. “Then what?”

  “I’m just predicting, that a cowgirl like yourself, raised in a place that appreciates good country, is gonna want to stay up at the house.”

  “Your house?”

  “And my dad’s. Yes.”

  She hesitated. He saw a flicker of unease but it left as soon as it came. “Well then, you better show me the place so I can make a decision.”

  “Excellent.” His driver loaded her luggage in the trunk and opened their door.

  She joined him in the limo, the soft scent of vanilla filling the air around them.

  “I’ll give you a tour on the way up.” He pointed out the window to her left. “Over there, you’ll see the magnificence of our country in its great meadows.”

  She laughed. “Meadows? Really?” She turned to look and then gasped. “It’s gorgeous.”

  The Arrowleaf was in bloom. Yellow flowers and miles of yellow-tipped greenery swayed in the breeze that blew down from the mountains behind them.

  “Is that...” she leaned closer, “deer! And bison?”

  He nodded. “They’re making a comeback. Got plenty of bison around these parts.”

  “These parts?”

  “Well sure. And now if you would please direct your attention upward, you will see the mountain range that runs right through Helena National Forest.”

  Her nose might have pressed to the glass. “Incredible. As you might remember, Thayer Falls is as flat as they once thought the earth to be.”