Jillian Hart - Montana Homecoming

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A PLACE TO HEAL That’s all Brooke McKaslin yearns for. She’s returned to Montana on family business, hoping to leave behind her past. And to shield the secret she carries. She’s not planning on staying long—until she begins working for reporter Liam Knightly. Liam is handsome, good-hearted—and as leery of relationships as Brooke is.Even as they realize how much they have in common, Brooke fears a threat to their growing love. Will her secret stand in the way of their happiness?The McKaslin Clan: Ensconced in a quaint Montana town, the McKaslins rejoice in the powerful bonds of faith, family…and forever love.

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“You go ahead. I’ll finish up.” Colbie shooed her away with an encouraging grin.

A little swish of hope beat through her as she stepped away. All she needed was a job to get back on her feet—that was all. Just one job. Any job. Her former position hadn’t paid well, but it had included her room and she didn’t need much to get by. She found her phone by feel in the bottom of her bag and checked the number.

Not an out-of-area phone call, she saw from her phone’s screen, but Liam Knightly’s name. He’d sent her a picture. Odd. She hit a button and a vivid image of a living room popped onto the display. Her jaw dropped at the image in full Technicolor. She stared unblinking at a living room in complete disarray. The couch had no cushions, lamps were toppled and DVDs were scattered all over the floor. Had he been robbed?

Wait a minute. She remembered a certain yellow Lab and the ham incident. Had Oscar done this? A grin stretched across her face. She couldn’t help it. That dog could sure destroy a room. Clearly a natural talent, poor boy.

Another chime, another picture. This one appeared to be of a spare bedroom made into an office. A desk’s empty surface shone beneath a sunny windowsill, a printer, a telephone and paper lay on the floor surrounding it. One closet door hung lopsided off its frame. In the corner of the room sat a yellow dog on an overstuffed chair, front paws propped on one chewed-up arm, a deliriously happy grin on his canine face.

“That’s a cute dog.” Colbie glanced over her shoulder. “Why did he do that to the room?”

“Separation anxiety. How did Liam get my number?”

“It’s a mystery.” Eyes sparkling, Colbie sashayed away loaded down with soda cups.

It was no mystery at all. Brooke rolled her eyes. A text message filled her screen.

I need professional help, Liam wrote.

That’s a private matter between you and your therapist. Her thumbs flew across the keys.

Funny. Just what I need. A comedic dog trainer.

She huffed out a breath. I’m not a dog trainer.

Colbie said U were.

She sighed. Colbie is a meddler.

That doesn’t change the fact I need a dog trainer. U interested?

The image of his face, of the amused, easygoing gleam in his striking blue eyes, came to her as easily as if he stood in front of her. Definitely a bad sign and a hint that maybe she should turn down his job offer.

But, come to think of it, she could use the work. Clearly Oscar could use some help adjusting to his new home. Her thumbs tapped out an answer. Maybe.

I’ll pay whatever U want. His words seemed frantic. Just help me.

I’m not sure U can be trained, but I can try.

Me? What about Oscar?

For his sake, I’ll do it. She hit Send, shaking her head. So, she had a job of sorts after all.

Her phone chimed with Liam’s next text. Great. Whew. I need your help desperately.

With a little training up, I think you will make a fine dog owner, she typed and hit Send.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a decade.” Hunter ambled up, carrying two loaded trays of sandwiches. “Got a boyfriend we don’t know about?”

“He’s not even a friend and that’s the way it will stay, so don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know something I don’t.” Brothers. She grabbed the rest of the sodas and joined her brother at the two tables the family had claimed. After she handed out the drinks, her cell chimed again.

Me? I don’t need training. I already know how to sit. How to fetch.

She could imagine the manly crinkles in the corners of Liam’s eyes as he grinned, typing those words. She eased into a chair, tapping out an answer on the keys. It’s a start. Text me your address and I’ll swing by after court.

“Brooke, we’re waiting on you to say grace.” Hunter frowned as if annoyed as he stacked the emptied trays. His annoyance was pure show. His dark gaze shone with gentleness.

“Oops.” She stuffed her phone into her bag and bowed her head as Hunter began the prayer. She added silent thanks for her blessings of family and a plea for poor Oscar. If things didn’t work out, she would hate for him to go back to living behind barred doors. She shivered, breaking a little inside at the memory. She knew exactly how heartbreaking that existence could be.

* * *

Squinting against the late afternoon sun shining in her eyes, she pulled to a stop at the curb. The small pickup she’d borrowed from Brianna idled roughly as she put it in Park.

This was Liam’s house? She studied the bungalow shaded by two broadleaf maples. The front porch framed two spacious windows and a front door, giving the home a smiling look.

A bark erupted the moment she opened the truck’s door. A golden blur streaked across the tidy lawn as she rose to her feet.

“No, Oscar! No!” Liam’s laughter held no sting as his command echoed in the front yard. He raced into sight but not fast enough to stop the golden blur from springing over a row of low shrubbery.

She caught sight of ears up, tongue lolling and bright canine eyes gleaming. She braced for impact, just in case. “Oscar, sit.”

Did it work? Not a chance. Paws hit her shoulders, a tongue swiped from her chin to her forehead and she sat down hard on the sidewalk, eighty pounds of dog in her lap.

“Brooke, are you all right?” Liam’s concern, Liam’s hand on her arm, his caring blue eyes meeting hers.

“I’m fine.” A dog’s happy kiss swiped across her face again and she laughed. Really laughed. After a hard day dealing with ghosts of her past and worries of how the trial was affecting Brianna, Oscar’s exuberance felt like a gift, a true blessing that was as welcome as the warm May sun and the song of the breeze through the maple leaves. “Oscar, you are a great boy. Do you know that?”

Chocolate eyes twinkled a happy answer. The big dog leaped and danced on the sidewalk, caught a whiff of her purse and tried to stick his nose beneath the leather flap.

“Oscar?” Liam caught his collar. “No more destruction. You’ve maxed out your daily limit, buddy.”

“I think he’s going for the dog biscuits I picked up on the way over. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Careful. Leather is edible, at least to him. So are most materials known to man.” He held out his free hand to help her from the ground. She reached without thought, her palm sliding against his. A jolt of awareness whispered through her, the oddest of sensations, a charged sweetness. What on earth? She’d never experienced anything like that before.

Did he feel this, too? She couldn’t tell. His face remained unchanged as his hand fell away from hers, leaving her palm tingly. Somehow she made her feet work, falling into stride beside him. Oscar bounded between them on the walkway, sniffing her purse.

“How is Brianna holding up?” Kindness layered Liam’s question. “This had to be a hard day of remembering.”

“Yes, but she’s awesome. She’s been through a lot of trauma but she’s handling this better than I could in her shoes.”

“Have she and Max set a wedding date yet?”

“Word is they want a Christmas wedding, although nothing official yet.” She tapped up the front steps and onto the cozy porch, keeping a good hold on her bag. Oscar had begun to drool. “They are going to wait until all this court stuff is over.”

“Smart. Finish one chapter, then start another.” He pulled open the front door, giving her a new view of the destruction. “I haven’t been home long enough to tackle this.”

“Oh, Oscar.” She gaped at the scene. The pictures Liam sent hadn’t begun to tell the whole story. Amazed, she walked into the ruin, stepping over DVD cases and fluffs of stuffing from the couch pillows, shocked at Oscar’s thoroughness.

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