Charlotte Carter - Montana Wrangler

“I have running shoes but I left them at home. I didn’t expect to be gone but a few days.”

He glanced at her sideways. “You run?”

“Every morning unless I’m working an early shift. I joined a twenty-four-hour gym so I wouldn’t have any excuse to miss my workouts. Not even bad weather.”

That news surprised Jay. Given her sophistication, he hadn’t expected her to do anything more athletic than polishing her fingernails.

He glanced at her hand on his arm. Slender fingers, soft hands and nails that were cut fancy and shiny with a clear polish. Not showy but nice.

She released her grip on his arm as they reached the double-door entrance of the church. Ward Cummings, a former marine who could arm wrestle and beat anybody in town, Jay included, greeted them.

Ward handed Paige a program, then extended one to Jay. “Good to see you, Jay. Sorry to hear about Krissy.”

“Yeah. Pretty tragic.” Not only for Krissy and her son, but for the horse she rode, as well. “This is her sister, Paige. Came in from Seattle for the funeral. Ward Cummings.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, miss.”

Paige thanked him politely before moving farther into the sanctuary.

Jay and Ward did a mock arm wrestle before shaking hands. “She’s one nice-looking lady,” Ward said. “How long is she going to be around?”

Jay frowned, watching Paige walk ahead of him. “Not long.”

“Too bad. She’d add a little class to Bear Lake.”

Yeah, maybe, he thought as he caught up with her. But classy Paige had made it clear she wasn’t about to hang around Bear Lake any longer than necessary, and she sure wasn’t the kind who’d have any interest in a horse wrangler who smelled of sweat and leather more times than not.

He followed her into a pew wondering what she’d meant when she’d said joining a church was the first time that she’d felt loved. What about her folks? Hadn’t they loved her?

Right! They sent their other daughter away just because she got pregnant. That didn’t sound like love to him.

He sat down and reached for a hymnal.

“This is a lovely little church. Very peaceful feeling.” She spoke in a soft whisper than made him lean toward her, and he caught a whiff of her sweet perfume.

“I suppose it is. But sometimes if I’ve got a serious problem to work out, I go to a special place I found in the forest. I think of it as God’s natural cathedral. Towering pines. A waterfall that ribbons down the mountain like threads of silver.”

She studied him a minute, her expression intent, before she spoke. “That sounds lovely.”

“If you stick around long enough, I’ll take you there.”

She held his gaze, her eyes a deep, warm brown. “I think I’d like that.”

The organ switched from the prelude, introducing the first notes of the opening hymn. The congregation stood as Pastor Walker walked on stage and held his arms up in welcome.

Jay mentally kicked himself as he searched through the hymnal to find the right page. Why had he offered to take Paige to the spot where he went when he needed to pray? His private place of contemplation. A place where he felt closer to Annie.

He didn’t want to take someone like Paige there, a woman who didn’t want anything to do with him or his beloved horses.

As he held out the open hymnal to Paige, he realized he didn’t have to worry. She would turn down the invitation the instant she learned the only way to get to his cathedral was on horseback.

* * *

Grandpa had been right about a storm coming.

By afternoon, clouds had filled the sky, bringing with them an early twilight. Rain spattered on the roof and dimpled the worn path from the barn to the house. Inside, a cozy fire snapped and crackled in the natural-stone fireplace.

Grandpa was reading a newspaper. Bryan lay sprawled on the floor in front of the fire playing a game on an electronic device.

Pondering how she could break through Bryan’s reticence and make a connection with him, Paige sat down at the upright piano. She ran her fingers over the keys, running up and down the scales. She’d taken lessons and played all through high school, often accompanying the choir or student musicals.

“Hey, Bryan,” she said. “Remember when we used to play ‘Chopsticks’ together?”

He turned to look at her. “Uh-uh.”

“Don’t you remember this?” Using two fingers, she tapped out the familiar tune. “You got pretty good at it.”

She had his attention enough that he took the ear buds out of his ears. A tiny bit of progress.

“You played the melody and I played the accompaniment.” She struck the appropriate chords, improvising a few swirling runs. “Come on. Let’s try it together.”

“I don’t remember how.”

“I’ll show you again.”

Grandpa folded his newspaper. “Go on, boy. Give it a try.”

Reluctantly, Bryan got up. He walked to piano and sat on the bench next to her. She caught a whiff of wood smoke and little boy sweat, and smiled.

“Watch the keys I play, and you play the same ones an octave higher. Like this.” She demonstrated slowly, then asked him to try. He came close to getting it right and they practiced again.

When she thought he was ready, she let him set the beat and added the accompaniment.

They made it all the way through the song. “Magnificent!” she cheered. She held up her hand for a high five.

He looked startled, then grinned and slapped her hand.

A beginning, she thought. From little things, big things can grow.

Glancing toward Grandpa, she discovered Jay leaning one shoulder against the kitchen doorway watching her. His brows were lowered in disapproval, his lips a straight line.

Jay didn’t believe she could make a good life for Bryan. She did. For Krissy’s sake, and with God’s help, she would.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.