Jeannie Watt - Her Montana Cowboy

But he’d managed to buy the pub they now owed together. That was telling.

Gus tilted his head toward the window where Lillie Jean was walking near the barn. “Even if she is a carbon copy of your ex-wife, you still don’t know she’s who she says she is. Maybe she’s a niece or something. Someone who doesn’t have claim.”

“You’re right.”

The words didn’t ring true. Thad was already convinced of Lillie Jean’s identity.

“Get some ID and take a long hard look at that will. Better yet, let your lawyer take a long hard look.”

Thad nodded, but his gaze was still fixed on the table. “Lyle never asked anything of me...he felt guilty because he and Nita fell in love.”

“Must have been a hell of a guilt to have let that much money lay fallow for so many years when he had the right to sell.”

That seemed highly unlikely. Yeah. There was a lot to be ironed out, checked out and generally dealt with. Although...maybe this did solve one mystery.

“Is this why you moved to town?”

“I never liked it here after Nita left. The place felt empty. Sad.”

“But you kept it.” He could have sold for a major profit in recent years, but hadn’t. Instead he’d bought the bar, poured his time and energy into it, building it from nothing while Salvatore ran the ranch.

Thad gave him a fierce look. “I worked like hell to keep my head above water for years. Just to show Lyle and Nita that I could do it without them. I was angry. Bitter. Buried myself on the place. Went a little nuts I think. I didn’t realize just how bitter I was until I had that accident. Didn’t know if I was going to make it back to the ranch.” He gave a laugh. “I had a lot of time to think as I dragged myself back to the trail.”

The accident had happened right around the time Gus had been born. Thad’s horse had lost footing on a steep trail, rolled down the mountain, landed on Thad and broke his leg. Tough old Thad pulling himself back up onto the trail was part of the family lore.

“I realized that I had to get off the ranch, find a new purpose. I hired Salvatore, bought the bar and moved to town.”

Thad and Sal had continued to do the seasonal work—haying, branding, moving cattle—together, but he spent most of his time making the Shamrock Pub the most popular bar in Gavin. And because he didn’t care about the ranch, it had slowly gone to seed.

Gus drummed his fingers on the table, then abruptly stopped. He needed time to work this out. Needed to know if Lillie Jean was legit and if she planned to remain a partner or sell. From the way she shivered every time she hit the Montana air, he was guessing she wasn’t planning to take up residence. He met his uncle’s gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing much to say. This is the way things have been since long before you were on this planet.”

“Still kind of a shock.”

“Yeah.”

“Tread lightly,” Gus advised, not liking the way Thad was watching Lillie Jean through the window, looking as if he was staring into his past. Judging from his expression, the bitterness he might still feel toward his ex-wife, Lillie Jean’s grandmother, was tempered by another, softer, emotion. Thad was only a month shy of turning eighty, and while he was mentally as sharp as ever, Gus couldn’t help but wonder how the old guy was doing emotionally. Was he at a point where sentiment might overshadow logic?

“I’m not about to lose my head, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Thad ground the words out in a gruff tone. “I’m just...processing.”

So was Gus.

“I’ll do some digging while you pull her rig out of that muck hole.”

Gus raised his eyebrows.

“I’m old. I’ve had a shock. But I’m not stupid. I’ll get hold of the lawyer that we sent the checks to—I just gotta find his address. Usually Betts takes care of that.”

“Maybe call Betts.”

“If I can get her. She tends to turn off her phone during tax season.”

Gus let out a breath as he watched Lillie Jean pull her coat around her and duck her chin inside. “Do what you can. I’ll take my time pulling out the car.”

* * *

LILLIE JEAN HADN’T had a clear picture of what a Montana ranch looked like when she’d left Texas. Born and raised in a suburban environment, her limited knowledge of ranching came from watching television, reading novels and visiting a friend’s ten-acre ranchette in high school. None of those experiences had prepared her for the reality of her inheritance.

She didn’t know a lot about ranches, but she knew a run-down property when she saw one. The outbuildings were old and weathered. The house hadn’t seen a new coat of paint in many years. The yard was wild and fences that weren’t made of wire were made of long poles instead of flat planks. Any fanciful thoughts she’d had of keeping her part of the ranch and moving to Montana, thus putting a lot of miles between her and Andrew and all reminders of her failed engagement and stolen business, evaporated early that morning when the sun had risen and she’d gotten a good look at the H/H in the light of day. This was not a place she wanted to live.

The sound of the door opening brought her head up. A second later, Gus Hawkins emerged from the house, heading toward her like a man on a mission. And that mission was to get her off the ranch. Great. They had the same objective.

“Thad needs some time to work through things,” he said as he drew closer. “In the meanwhile, we’ll get your car out of the mud.”

She leaned down and scooped up Henry, who was pressing against her legs while keeping an eye on Gus. “All right.”

There wasn’t much else she could say. She lifted her chin to meet Gus’s less than friendly gaze, hugging her dog a little closer. Do not show weakness. Bullies thrived on weakness. She didn’t think that Gus was a bully, per se, but he was protective of his uncle and his ranch and had made it clear that he didn’t trust her one bit.

Fine. She didn’t trust him, either. He was tall and good-looking and probably used to getting his way. He thought he’d be able to run her off the property, get her away from his uncle—and she was leaving, but not because of anything he’d done. She’d wanted to meet Thaddeus Hawkins, learn her grandfather’s secrets, before putting her part of the ranch up for sale.

She started toward the truck they’d traveled in the night before, but Gus called her name and she stopped, looked at him over her shoulder. He jerked his head toward the tractor. “We’ll take that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s better at pulling things out of the mud. You might want to leave your little dog with Thad.” He started toward the tractor without another word and, after a brief hesitation, Lillie Jean crossed the driveway to the house. The kitchen was empty, so she set Henry on the floor and promised him she’d be back shortly.

Gus was waiting in the idling tractor when she returned. She started to the passenger door, but he motioned her to the other side of the machine. Cautiously she climbed the steps, finding a small jump seat beside the operator’s chair.

Once the door was closed, Gus pulled a few levers, raised the bucket, and the tractor started down the driveway, shaking and rumbling as he shifted to a higher gear.

Lillie Jean simply held on and focused on the road ahead of her, doing her best to tamp down the feelings that (a) she didn’t belong in a tractor, and (b) the cab of the tractor was too small for two people who didn’t trust one another.

“Do you have the keys?” he asked as they drove through the log archway that marked the entrance of the ranch proper.

“Yes,” she said shortly, glad that she did indeed have the keys sitting deep in her coat pocket. She could have left them in the car, stuck as it was, but old habits died hard. One didn’t leave keys in the car for even a little while where she lived. The place wasn’t crime ridden, but enough things happened, even in the suburbs, to leave one erring on the side of caution.