Montana Mavericks: a hot cowboy collection Read online

  Sophie found herself wishing the little girl were hers. To love and protect.

  Finally, she just couldn’t deal with her thoughts alone any longer. The voices in her head were starting to argue with one another. She called the one person in town who might understand. “Juliet? How about we meet for lunch?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Dirt Spoon diner smelled of grease, burgers, and home-cooked food. Sophie settled into the worn booth, careful to avoid the rip in the vinyl. “Thanks for meeting me,” she said after they’d ordered.

  “I figured you’d want to discuss the art showing.” Juliet smiled and unfolded the paper napkin to place on her lap. Her loose dress and Celtic jewelry made her look like an Irish princess.

  Sophie almost agreed—almost took the easy out. But it was time to grow a pair, as her uncle always said. “Actually, I, ah, just wanted to talk… I mean, you’re new to town, so am I, and I don’t really have, I mean, even at home, I don’t have—”

  “A lot of friends?” Juliet asked, an understanding smile curving her lips.

  Sophie sighed. Yeah, she sounded like a loser. But she’d never connected with people. Her mother had seen to that. “I don’t have many friends at all.”

  “Me neither.” Juliet shrugged. “I’m glad you called me.” Her blue eyes lit up. “That took courage.”

  More than she knew. “Everyone knows everyone in this town, and it seems like they all know what’s best for everyone else,” Sophie said.

  “When somebody gives you directions, they always start with, ‘Turn left by the field where Sam Boseby’s horse died, and then right by the oak tree where Bobby Johnson fell and broke his leg two years ago…’” Juliet said.

  Sophie laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “Exactly.”

  A couple of men in the far booth argued loudly.

  Sophie glanced around but couldn’t see them. Then they went quiet. Good.

  Juliet sipped from a sweating plastic glass. “Jake is out of town?”

  “Yes. He’s consulting on a trial in D.C.” Sophie traced her fingers over the scarred table. “His mom and daughter created a very cool art studio above his garage for me to paint.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Juliet said.

  “Without telling him,” Sophie finished.

  Juliet’s eyes widened. She covered her mouth, mirth filling her face.

  “I know.” Heat spiraled into Sophie’s cheeks. “I thanked him on the phone.”

  Juliet snorted and dropped her hand. “You didn’t.”

  “I did.” Sophie shook her head. “The poor guy had no clue what I was talking about.”

  Juliet laughed harder. Finally, she took a deep breath. “This town, I’m telling you. They embrace you and dictate your life. That means they like you. It’s nice to belong.”

  “I know. Even Jake is trying to push me into staying—and it’s not like he’s made any big declaration of love or anything.” As she said the words, the truth of her hurt slammed home..

  Juliet sat back as the waitress delivered their club sandwiches and waited until the girl left. “Have you declared anything?”

  Sophie stilled in bringing her drink to her mouth. “Um, well—”

  “That’s what I thought.” Juliet took a bite and then swallowed. “Those Lodge men.”

  “Speaking of whom. What’s up with you and the sheriff?” Sophie asked.

  Juliet flushed a pretty pink. “Nothing. I mean, he’s overbearing, bossy, and always around.”

  “I think you’re protesting too much.” Sophie chuckled.

  “No kidding.” Juliet quirked her lip. “He’s my landlord, so I have to get along with him.”

  Sophie took a sip of water. “Your landlord?”

  “Yes. The Lodge-Freeze families own more real estate than you’d believe.” Juliet sighed.

  That must’ve been what Dawn meant by family holdings. “Must be nice.” Sophie grinned. “Who knows, maybe I’ll sell a painting someday and then, ah, diversify.”

  “Speaking of which, I saw how your eyes lit up about the art showing,” Julie said.

  Sophie blew out a breath. “I’d love to have a real art showing. To paint Montana and have people come and actually want to buy my work. It’d be a dream I hadn’t ever thought I’d get the chance to explore.”

  “You’re saying yes.” Delight danced in Juliet’s eyes.

  “I’m saying yes. I’ll do it on my terms, and some of that may mean I take pictures and then paint in San Francisco.” At home. Even though it no longer felt like home.

  “Fair enough.” Juliet glanced back as the men in the far booth got louder. “What’s going on behind us?”

  Sophie glanced up as Billy Rockefeller and Fred Gregton slid out of the far booth. “The guys from the Concerned Citizens for Rural Development Group seem to be having a disagreement.” Frowns lined both men’s faces. “And they’re dressed for, ah, war.”

  The two men wore camo outfits and flak boots. Billy Rockefeller looked a lot more dangerous in the army outfit than he had in the fancy jacket.

  He stopped at their table. “Ladies.”

  Sophie made the introductions, and he shook Juliet’s hand. Fred hovered near the counter and didn’t approach.

  Billy cleared his throat, his eyes piercing. “I heard the county commissioners were smart enough to deny your plan.”

  Sophie cut her eyes to Juliet. “Good news travels fast.”

  Billy shifted to reveal a gun in his waistband. “I also heard the tribe is trying to buy your plan. I’d appreciate it if you refused to sell. We don’t need a golf course.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Sophie’s breath scraped her throat as she eyed the gun.

  His lip curled, and he lowered his flushed face to hers. “I’ll do anything to save the environment, lady. Anything.”

  Sophie saw red at his obvious intimidation tactic. Enough with people pushing her around. Her temper exploded. After grabbing a bottle on the table, she squeezed it in his face. Ketchup squirted out and spread over his forehead.

  She gasped.

  He hissed and moved to grab her.

  Juliet swung with her purse, smashing him in the nose. He stumbled back toward the counter, where Fred caught him before he tripped.

  Billy started to lunge forward when a sharp voice in the doorway snapped his name.

  Everyone froze.

  Quinn Lodge stalked up the aisle, his gaze taking everything in. “What’s going on, folks?”

  Sophie gulped air and pointed to Billy. “He has a gun in his waistband.”

  Billy snarled and stepped far enough away from her that Quinn’s shoulders relaxed. “I also have a permit, a fact the sheriff is well aware of.”

  Quinn eyed Juliet and then Sophie. “Are you ladies all right?”

  “Fine.” Juliet crossed her arms. “This was a little misunderstanding about ketchup. Right?”

  Sophie swallowed several times. “Um, right.” Actually, she was the one who had committed battery, considering she’d doused the asshole. But he had tried to scare her, so it was probably all right. She glanced at Quinn. “Let’s not tell Jake.”

  Quinn grinned. “Not a chance, Soph. Not a chance in hell.” He took in Juliet’s ketchup-covered purse with a raised eyebrow but didn’t say a word. Then he waited until the two men left before giving Juliet a hard glance and then sauntering out the door.

  After lunch, Sophie drove into the city to make a purchase. It had been enough time, and she just needed confirmation that the broken condom hadn’t led to anything. Or the second time against the wall when they’d forgotten protection. There was no way she would buy a pregnancy test in town—the news would be all over within minutes.

  The feeling of leaving home grew stronger as she pulled away from Mineral Lake and headed outside of
Maverick County, the sharp peaks of mountains providing a shield from rushing winds.

  After driving for an hour, she shivered as dark clouds gathered across the sky and figured she’d get back in time for a good storm. Lightning cracked across the sky, and a hard rain began to pelt the vehicle. She flipped on the wipers and lights. Her phone rang just as she pulled into Billings, and she accepted the call. “Hello.”

  “Where are you?” Jake’s deep voice stirred something inside her she struggled to suppress.

  “Running an errand. Are you back in town?” She was not miffed that he hadn’t called. Really. Though fury still rode her at his attempted interference in her life. With her job. With her emotions.

  “Just got home,” he said.

  She peered through the rain-soaked windshield for a drugstore. “Great.”

  “Do you want to meet for dinner?” The low timbre of his voice caused a fluttering in her lower belly that irritated her, pure and simple.

  The lights of a store shone through the darkened night. “No. I may be a while.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call, Sophie. We worked twenty-hour days to finish the case up in a week.” His frustration came clear and sure through the line.

  “No problem, Jake,” she said, keeping her voice casual.

  “Sounds like a problem.” Silence sprawled across the line. “Where are you?”

  If she could take on crazy Billy Rockefeller, she could handle Jake. “None of your business.”

  “Excuse me?” Heat colored his words, even through the static. The wind lashed against her windows.

  “You heard me. Nice offer you made my uncle. You’re not running my life,” she said.

  “Not trying to.” His voice dropped an octave.

  That tone was a mite too sexy for her to keep angry, darn it. “Good. Well, since we fired the Charleton Group, I’m sure that Uncle Nathan will sell you the design,” she said.

  “I assumed as much,” he admitted.

  “Preston will be here working on it, not me,” she said.

  Several seconds of silence filled the line as Sophie turned into the fully illuminated parking lot.

  “No,” Jake said calmly.

  “What?” She switched off the ignition.

  “I said, no. The deal is for you to redesign the course. Not Preston. You designed the original course, the one that fits in well here. We want you to work with your design. Plus, I understand your uncle stands to lose quite a bit of money if that design isn’t used,” Jake said.

  Sophie’s temper stirred. “That’s blackmail.”

  “No, it isn’t. It just makes sense to have the original designer alter the same course. Now, where are you?” he asked.

  “Bite me, Jake.” She ended the call powered down the phone. Not the most mature response, but he deserved it. She squared her shoulders for courage and jumped into the rain to dash for the drugstore.

  …

  The small bag sat like a stone in her purse during a quiet dinner at a small diner just outside of Maverick County. When she finished eating and paid the check, she figured she’d stalled enough. She needed to find out now, because there was a fairly good chance Jake would be waiting for her at Mrs. Shiller’s.

  She marched slowly into the small bathroom and dug into the bag. She opened the box and read the instructions. Not too difficult. With a sigh, she peed on the stick. Then she placed it on the back of the sink, turned around, and thrummed her fingers against her arm. She waited a minute. Then another minute, her eyes sightless on the pale yellow walls.

  Someone tried to open the door and the lock jiggled.

  She’d have to come back.

  Finally, three minutes were up. Sophie took a deep breath and turned around.

  Through the control window, a plus sign glowed in bright pink.

  She was pregnant.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fifteen stunned minutes later, she found herself in the Jeep headed toward Mineral Lake. “I’ll have to schedule a doctor’s appointment.” She had been talking to herself for several moments but didn’t think it mattered much at that point. Statistically, the pregnancy was just unreal, but it happened. She couldn’t believe it. Rain slashed the car while thunder rumbled overhead, but neither pierced her calm. “A good doctor. One with experience. Lots of it.”

  The windshield wipers made a comforting swishing sound against the glass. “I wonder if it’s a girl or a boy.”

  The car crawled through the deluge as she crossed into Maverick County and then finally the town of Mineral Lake, an odd sense of relief filling her.

  “You’ll be a member of a tribe, baby, and,” she mused idly, “I think that means extra scholarships for college. Among other things.” She turned onto her street and parked by the B&B. “Look. There’s Daddy waiting on the porch. Wow. Daddy’s pissed.” She felt drunk. Why should she feel drunk? She only drank lemonade at dinner.

  Jake opened her door before she could. One strong hand around her arm helped her to the protected porch. “Where in the hell have you been?”

  Sophie stared up into his furious face, her eyes blinking as if in a dream. “The city.”

  “You drove from town in that?” He gestured toward the driving rain.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” He put both hands on her arms, obviously fighting the urge to shake her.

  “I’m pregnant, Jake.” Then she pitched forward and darkness overtook her.

  …

  Jake dodged forward and caught Sophie before she hit the hard wood porch. Pregnant. The woman said she was pregnant. The odds were so against it, he truly hadn’t thought she’d be pregnant. Condoms broke all the time. Jesus. She was really pregnant?

  He cradled her easily, fumbled for the doorknob, and shoved inside. She felt too small—too fragile in his arms.

  A baby. Another baby.

  He shook his head. Warmth flushed through him along with unease. As he looked down at her pale face, something in his chest tightened. He wanted this baby. He wanted this woman.

  Setting her down on the sofa, he reached for his phone to call the doctor. She shouldn’t have fainted like that, should she? His gut clenched hard. Everything had to be okay. Sophie was just surprised by the pregnancy. And tired. He needed to make sure she got more rest.

  The nurse answered, and he made his request. Thank goodness for small towns and good friends. The doctor would arrive soon.

  Jake dropped to his knees and smoothed Sophie’s hair off her forehead. They should get married.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His one marriage had begun the same way and ended in disaster. What mattered was Sophie, this baby, and Leila. He’d do what was best for all of them.

  What was best?

  “Sophie, wake up,” he murmured.

  She didn’t move, and fear caught him by the throat. He took another deep breath. Sometimes faints took a while to awaken from. She was fine. She had to be fine.

  They’d have the doctor examine her, and then they’d come up with a plan. He was born to strategize, and this was no different than a trial. Okay. Considering it was his entire life, it was a little different. But he could make it work.

  They’d come up with a plan, and it’d be a good one. Deep down at his core, he knew he’d never let her go. Now all he had to do was convince her.

  …

  Sophie awoke some time later laid out on Mrs. Shiller’s flowered couch with a cold cloth pressed against her eyes. She flopped a hand on the cloth and tugged it across her face to drop on the floor. Her eyes met Jake’s as he knelt by the couch.

  “Feeling better?” His voice was soft—his eyes hot.

  “Yes.” She pushed to a seated position and dropped her head into her hands. Then she struggled to reach her feet.

  “No, wait a minute.” One
gentle hand pressed down on her shoulder. “Give it a minute. You were out for some time.”

  She shrugged off his hand and the pleasure of seeing him again in the flesh. “I’m fine.” As much as she hated to admit it, she had missed his solid presence, his reassuring strength.

  “We’ll see.” Lights cascaded through the window, and a car pulled through the puddles. The splash of the tires echoed even through the storm. Jake ran a rough hand through his thick hair. “Doc Mooncaller just arrived.”

  Sophie brushed wet curls off her face. “You called the doctor?”

  “Of course I called the doctor,” Jake growled. “You just passed out.”

  “I’m fine. Tell him to go away.” Panic spiraled through her. She had never quite gotten over the fear of doctors and needles.

  Jake stood and strode to open the door, letting rain blow in from outside. “No.”

  “Hey, Jake.” A portly man with a long gray braid moved gracefully into the room, black bag in hand. Kind brown eyes shifted to Sophie. “You must be Sophie.”

  “Yes.” Sophie eyed the stairs. Maybe she could escape to her room.

  “This is Doc Mooncaller.” Jake closed the door with a muted click.

  The doctor crossed and bent down to one knee in front of her. “Rumor has it you fainted, young lady.”

  “She’s pregnant.” Jake leaned against the door, broad arms across a muscular chest.

  Sophie gave him a baleful glare. Weren’t lawyers supposed to be good at keeping secrets? “He’s guarding the way out,” Sophie whispered to the doctor, rolling her eyes.

  The doctor chuckled. “Why, you going to run?”

  “I might,” she muttered.

  Twinkling eyes met hers. “Good luck with that. How far along are you?”

  “A couple of weeks.” She swallowed, her stomach churning.

  “Just found out?” He pressed a steady hand against her forehead.

  “Yes.” She fought to keep her voice normal.