Big Sky Read online

“Of course you don’t,” she said with another eye roll.

  She buried the shoes in her lap and slung the straps of her purse over a shoulder. The soft swell of her breasts brushed against Brett’s back as she wrapped her arms around his middle. She bit back a gasp; it was impossible not to notice that his torso felt as hard as stone. And the abdominal muscles beneath her fingers were as rigid as a washboard.

  A combination of sandalwood, sweat and animal scents emanated from his body and wafted into her nostrils. The masculine aroma had an immediate dizzying effect on her. Physically, she hadn’t been this close to a man in a long time.

  As the horse stepped into an easy lope, Taylor’s thighs rocked in rhythm with the ranch hand’s backside, making her insanely aware of just how long it had been since she’d had a lover. She felt her body tense with the unpredicted and baffling reaction of arousal for this perfect stranger.

  “I’m real sorry for your loss,” he said, drawing her from her thoughts.

  She knew he was referring to her sister and responded with a curt, “Thank you.” Jamie was the last person she wanted to talk about right now.

  As they passed a pasture green with spring grass, Taylor’s gaze swept across the herd of grazing cattle bearing the Slash Y brand on their hindquarters. She was desperately trying to focus on something other than the firm body she was pressed against. But it was difficult with the tingling sensations that were stirring through her body. Even thinking about the confrontation that was bound to take place with her mother didn’t help.

  “I didn’t know her well, but Jamie seemed like a nice person,” Brett continued. “If you don’t mind my asking, why didn’t you come back for her funeral?”

  At the mention of her sister’s name spoken aloud, and hearing the disapproval in Brett’s tone, the warm tingles vanished. The familiar taste of bile crept up Taylor’s windpipe, and she felt her defensive wall fly up. She had come home prepared to deal with her mother on this sore subject. Maybe even her stepfather, but certainly not this wrangler. He had some nerve meddling in her business again.

  “Actually, I do mind you asking. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? It’s rude to pry into another’s personal affairs. But you seem to have a real knack for doing so.”

  She felt Brett’s hips shift beneath her hands. The subtle movement sent another unexpected thrill through her body that distracted her.

  “I apologize,” he replied, craning his neck around after a moment’s hesitation. “Both my folks died when I was a little boy. My dad’s bachelor brother ended up raising me. He was just a young cowboy when he took me in. He tried hard to teach me the right things, but I guess he could have done a better job.”

  Oh, boy. Her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach, and she felt as small as a bug. Her quick temper had gotten her into trouble before, and here it had again. She hadn’t meant to be so judgmental. It’s just that she’d left L.A. stressed, the day was going downhill fast, and this guy had managed to get under her skin in record time.

  “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “Sometimes I open my mouth before I think. I’m afraid that’s one of the traits I inherited from my father.”

  When Brett reached back and patted her knee, she shuddered under his touch.

  “It’s okay. You didn’t know. There are times when I have a big mouth, too.”

  She winced.

  “The fact is I was lucky to have Uncle Blue,” Brett said. “He sacrificed everything for me. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have ended up in foster care or worse, I suppose.”

  She mulled that over. “You know, maybe I’ve been overly sensitive about your being nosy. Can I ask you what happened to your folks?”

  “Maybe is an understatement, lady.”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “You’re strung tighter than a banjo string. Take a couple of deep breaths. It might help.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Go on. Inhale and exhale.” He demonstrated by deeply breathing in and out and she felt his chest rise and fall beneath her fingers. “It’ll help you relax.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You do need to chill,” he interrupted. “Now go ahead and breathe. Even my horse can sense your tension.”

  Clenching her jaw, Taylor shook her head and then inhaled a lung full of fresh air and exhaled with great fanfare. “Okay. Now what?”

  “Do you feel better?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He chuckled. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

  “I guess.”

  “Where were we? Oh, yeah. You asked about my folks. They were in a car accident. They were returning from a rodeo in Cheyenne late one night. It was storming real hard and they slid off the road and hit a guardrail.”

  Her jaw slackened. “Oh, my gosh. That’s awful.”

  “Yes, I’m certain it was, but I was quite young when it happened. I barely remember my mama and pop, if the truth were told. My uncle parented me longer than my real folks. I learned most of what I know about ranching, and all I know about being a man, from him. He wasn’t perfect, but he did his best. I think I turned out all right, despite my obvious lack of etiquette. And my big mouth.”

  Taylor felt the blush of embarrassment move through her for having criticized him. “Do you see him often?” she asked. “Your Uncle Blue?”

  Brett shook his head. “He passed away a year ago. I sure do miss him. That man was the only extended family I had.”

  Taylor offered her condolences and a second apology as a wave of compassion flooded her heart. Realizing he had no one caused her regret for having nearly bit his head off. At least she’d had her dad for seventeen years before he’d died. And she did have her mother and stepfather, even if she’d been estranged from them for years.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Brett said, speaking over his shoulder and intruding on her musings. “What do you say we call a truce to the verbal jabs and start over again?”

  She breathed in his manly scent again. “I was actually thinking the same thing. I haven’t been myself today. What with the sudden trip and then the car breaking down…”

  “No need to explain. I understand.”

  Somehow, she believed he did.

  Since they couldn’t shake on it, he gripped one of her hands that was around his waist and squeezed, holding it longer than she expected.

  “So I understand what you’re going through,” he said a moment later. “It’s hard to lose a loved one. I don’t have any siblings, but it must have been especially difficult for you to learn about your sister’s death.”

  Once again, his words were like a punch in the gut. Jamie had been blood. But he had no idea who the true Jamie was, or what she’d put Taylor through. There was no use in airing the family’s dirty laundry, or wasting energy trying to explain her side. Her silence would offer more than words. Besides, she intended to keep her promise and hold to their truce.

  Chapter Three

  Brett glanced down at the small hands with manicured nails wrapped around his middle and smiled. It didn’t matter if Taylor Young wore expensive sunglasses, was dressed like a corporate lawyer in her slacks and ruffled blouse, and wielded a big-city attitude. He could sense she was country strong on the inside, where it counted.

  It had been a long time since he’d verbally sparred with a woman as feisty as her. It felt good. Got his heart pumping and his blood flowing. Taylor was a looker, too, which didn’t hurt any. As Bill swayed back and forth, Brett felt her full breasts pushed against his back. He smelled the scent of fruity shampoo wafting off her hair and wondered why the universe had delivered her into his hands today. A woman like her was what he wanted, but she certainly wasn’t what he needed.

  The lack of attractive, spirited women around Prosperity was the main reason he’d chosen to associate mostly with horses and cows. Not to mention the disenchantment he felt about relationships in general, brought on by his ex-wife. Marci leaving all those years a
go was no longer a thorn in his side, but her betrayal and selfishness had made him a cautious man ever since. Anytime he got lonely for the companionship of a woman, he only had to picture Marci and he’d remember the emotional damage a beautiful woman could cause. There was only one female in the world he truly trusted—his daughter.

  It had been years since he’d had a girlfriend, and almost two years since any woman had shared his bed. Courting simply took too much time and effort, and a roll between the sheets was hardly worth it. So why the sudden desire to get to know this woman? And why was his groin hardening at the mere thought of taking her into his bed?

  Brett gritted his teeth. Don’t even think about it, Austin. She’s the boss’s daughter. That’s reason enough to keep your distance. He clucked his tongue and set Bill to trotting, telling himself that no girl was worth losing his job over.

  ****

  As they neared the house, Taylor fixed her eyes upon the mountains looming in the distance, massively projecting up from the fertile valley. Her gaze then traveled across the sky that stretched into eternity. It ranged from a pastel shade of blue along the far horizon to something deeper, nearly cobalt, directly above. Wide stretches of land, rambling wilderness, tall trees, and a spacious sky were what gave Montana its nickname—Big Sky. A stab of emotional pain shot through her belly.

  “I hadn’t realized how much I missed this place,” she mused aloud.

  “It’s a pretty piece of paradise, isn’t it?”

  When Bill suddenly picked up the pace and snorted, Taylor tightened her grip around Brett’s waist.

  “We’re closing in on the barn,” he explained before adding, “Of course, you already know that.”

  Taylor’s chest grew tight. They were almost to the house. Had she made the right decision coming back? Even if she hadn’t, there was no turning back now.

  As they trotted past the corral, she perused the small group of wranglers who were sitting on fence rails watching someone break a colt. Some of their heads turned to stare.

  “That sure brings back memories,” she said, as the man on the colt got bucked and tossed into the dirt.

  “You mentioned your dad put you on a horse at two years old.”

  “Yes. And he bought us each our own pony when we turned five. I named mine Tony. Tony the pony.”

  “Very original.”

  From behind, Taylor couldn’t see his smile, but she could feel it. “Tony lived to be twenty-two. He died about eleven years ago. It was one of the saddest days of my life.”

  “You were…how old then? When he died?”

  “If you’re trying to figure out my age, I’ll save you the trouble of doing the math. I’m thirty-four. And you?”

  “Thirty-eight.”

  “Not married?”

  “Nope. You?”

  “No.”

  “Now that we’ve gotten all the important stuff out of the way,” Brett said, “what did Jamie call her pony?”

  “Prince.”

  Even though she’d brought Jamie up this time, Taylor’s short answer must have alerted Brett to the fact that she didn’t want to talk about her sister anymore, because he changed the subject.

  “Do you recognize any of those guys on the fence?” he asked as Bill made his final strides toward the barn.

  She peeked over her shoulder and spotted a man who towered over the others by a foot, even sitting. His body was lean, as she remembered, and he still sported his trademark ponytail. “I could never forget Charlie Keller. He’s been a wrangler at the Slash Y since I was a girl. He always carried peppermint candies in his pocket.”

  “Still does.” Brett halted the paint at the timber frame horse barn and reached his hand back for her to grasp. “We’re here. Go ahead and dismount.”

  Taylor tossed the high heels to the ground and took his hand, using it as support as she put her foot in the stirrup on top of his boot, raised her right leg and gracefully slid off the paint.

  Brett lifted his weight out of the saddle and tied Bill to a wooden railing.

  She forgot herself for a moment, taking in the athletic way Brett moved and noticing his trim waist and those shoulders that could fill a doorway. Despite his tendency to talk a lot and stick his nose where it didn’t belong, there was no denying Mr. Austin was a fine-looking specimen of a man. Those Levis hugged his backside and long legs like a second skin.

  He turned and found her staring straight at him. Mortified, she looked away, but not before she caught the full effect of his gorgeous eyes, which were large and as blue and clear as the Montana sky.

  “Are you done for the day?” she asked, slipping on her shoes.

  “No, but I thought I’d walk you up to the house before I go back to my chores.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I can find my way. I haven’t been gone that long.”

  He grinned. “I can tell you’re quite a capable woman, but I need to talk to Will about something anyway.” He loosened the cinch around the horse’s belly and scratched Bill’s nose.

  “Do you think Will’s home?” she asked.

  “I expect so.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She stuck her feet in the heels while wondering why Brett had offered her a ride on the back of his horse if he knew Will was home and could have driven out to get her himself. Probably wanted to stay on the good side of his boss, she decided. Will would not take kindly to a man who left his stepdaughter abandoned on the road.

  When Taylor straightened her spine, she turned to watch the activity that continued at the corral. The same man who had been thrown was back on the young bronc. His wild ride had the others cheering and whistling. “Who’s the guy breaking the colt?”

  “His name is Dash Bullion. Been here about a year. He’s a bit anti-social and carries a pretty big chip on his shoulder, but he works like a dog. Are you ready to go up to the house?”

  Was she? If the twisting of her gut and clammy hands were any sign, she was not ready. But there was no use in delaying the inevitable. Taylor inhaled deeply and they strolled around the side of the barn and started walking up the paved drive.

  “Bullion. That name sounds familiar,” she said.

  “Dash claims to be related to Laura Bullion, the only female member of Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch gang.”

  “No kidding? I went to school with a boy who said his ancestor was Ben Kilpatrick. He was also a member of that gang. I thought Etta Place was the only woman ever allowed at Hole in the Wall.”

  “Then you don’t know your Wild West history. Etta was only a girlfriend. Laura Bullion was an outlaw herself and a full-fledged part of the gang. She was convicted of robbery and served three and a half years in prison. Coincidentally, she was romantically involved with Ben Kilpatrick.”

  “Mmmm. You certainly do know your outlaw history. Are you related to one of those old-time bandits?”

  He laughed and said he was not.

  At the top of the curving driveway, they stopped at a large oak tree in the yard. It still had the old tire swing hanging from a sturdy limb. Taylor’s heart leapt inside her chest.

  “I can’t believe this is still here.”

  She wedged her backside into the tire and pushed off with her feet. As the tire creaked back and forth, her gaze drifted over the magnificent view spread in front of them, to Fish Creek and across the tree-filled mountains that stretched over the horizon. “I spent a lot of hours in this tire when I was growing up, looking out at the creek and the mountains, swinging away my troubles.”

  “This is one of the prettiest places on earth,” Brett said in a tone that matched hers in reverence.

  Taylor glanced at him and saw the awe in his eyes. She was pleased that he appreciated the beauty of the land the way she always had—and still did.

  “Did you grow up around here?”

  “Uncle Blue’s ranch was near Helena, but we lost it several years before he died. Look. There.” Brett pointed to a red-tailed hawk flying in a circle over the creek.


  Had Brett’s uncle lost the ranch due to the economy or another reason? Taylor wondered, knowing it took money to make money these days. Feeling sorry that Brett had been unable to inherit the ranch, she popped out of the tire and sidled next to him. They watched the bird glide effortlessly over the soft breeze. “Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a hawk. Birds are not something we see much of in L.A.”

  “I’ve heard you have wildlife of another variety there,” he joked.

  She chuckled and drew her hand through her hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Brett staring at her. “What?” she asked.

  “You and Jamie don’t look anything alike.”

  Her gaze flew to the old wooden dock down at Fish Creek where she and Jamie had spent their childhood summers swimming and fishing with stick poles. An ache crawled into her bones as she thought back to those days when Daddy was alive and she and her sister were the best of friends.

  “I got Mama’s chestnut hair and brown eyes,” she answered, “and Jamie and Daddy had the same green eyes and dark hair.”

  “But you got his temper and penchant for opening your mouth at the wrong time,” Brett said, smiling.

  She rolled her eyes, thinking she never should have mentioned that.

  “Guess it had been a while since you saw Jamie,” Brett said with more seriousness. “Her hair was bright red with blonde streaks when she…”

  Taylor’s startled gaze met his and Brett clamped his mouth shut. He shook his head and said, “I’m sorry. Like I said before, you’re not the only one with a mouth as big as a trout’s. Let’s go up to the house before you take one of those spiked heels to my head.” With his hand on the small of her back, he prodded her forward.

  Chapter Four

  When the ranch house came into view, Taylor’s heart lodged in her throat. The five thousand square foot redwood-sided home with green metal roof hadn’t changed one bit in six years. Not that she expected it to. But it felt strange to be back after so many years. She’d changed in that time. It was only natural something on the ranch would have, too. But everything looked the same. She stood stock still, afraid to move.