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  All the guilt and confused feelings she’d felt Sunday had resurged with a vengeance, and the anger at her dad for causing it all had sent her into a tailspin. Now the uncertainty clung to her once more. The uncertainty of whether she had any forgiveness in her heart. Was it her dad who needed to ask her forgiveness? Then why did she have such guilt hanging over her head about it? After all, wasn’t it her dad who’d pretended to be the perfect father, provider, husband?

  It was her father who was in the wrong. It was her father who’d made her respect him enough to give up her barrel racing dreams, dreams she’d wanted with all her heart…and it was her father whose lies about who he really was and his betrayal that cut so deep that when she thought about it, the anger tore her up inside.

  She didn’t think anyone could understand what she was feeling, not even the pastor, not even Lacy—but Luke’s questioning gaze blasted through the dark emotions swirling around inside her. It was as if he could see into the deepest corners of her heart, straight to the pain. The very idea set her into action. No, she didn’t want him or anyone else seeing that deeply.

  She didn’t want him knowing how torn up she was. How weak it made her feel. It wasn’t his business, and she didn’t want to share.

  Sharing meant letting him in and she wasn’t ready to do that. It was dangerous.

  “Nothing is wrong,” she repeated, her voice stronger. She stepped back, away from the touch of his hand.

  The touch of his dark eyes remained, holding her. His shoulders seemed wide enough to hold her troubles. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “Something tells me you need a friend. Someone to talk to. Talk to me, Montana.”

  As if he knew he was onto something. The man was as solid as a redwood, and she wondered how it would feel to be sheltered in his arms. Able to trust again.

  “No. It’s none of your business,” she said. “Leave it be.”

  “Why? So you can be eaten up by whatever is bothering you. So you can let it get between you and this dream?” He waved toward Murdock.

  “Mind your own business,” she snapped at him, feeling suddenly ugly inside.

  A sudden and devastating smile cracked across his tanned, handsome face. “Sorry, Montana. I’ve got a feeling that’s one request I’m not going to be able to keep.”

  Montana’s heart practically swooned, dipping and tumbling. Shaken by the sincerity in his eyes she did the only thing she could—she spun around and stormed across the arena toward Murdock.

  How dare the man try to penetrate the wall she’d built up to protect herself? How weak of her to be tempted to let her defenses down.

  Grabbing Murdock’s saddle horn, she swung easily onto his back. Feeling like an Indian warrior hitting the warpath, she grabbed the reins, wheeled the poor, startled horse around and galloped him back into the alley. If it hadn’t been for the closed gate, she’d have been tempted to keep on riding out of the building.

  The worst part about it was Luke knew she was hiding something.

  How could a near-total stranger seem to see through her? How?

  He’d hit a nerve. Luke watched the ticked-off cowgirl race out of the alley as though a pack of hungry coyotes were chasing her. She was most definitely stewing about something. Something that cut deep. Something still very raw.

  As he watched, she and Murdock flew toward the first barrel. Montana’s eyes were zeroed-in on the barrel, but she wasn’t in rhythm. They were too fast and she was too close as Murdock started around the barrel.

  The sound of her knee connecting with the barrel rang out. The hard impact toppled her from the horse like she’d been shot, and she hit the ground with a thud. Dust flew up around her as she rolled and landed face-first in the soft dirt.

  Luke started running the moment she fell. Skidding to a halt, he gently rolled her over. She blinked, gasped for air, then struggled to sit up. Pain etched her pretty, dirt-streaked face as she grabbed her knee.

  “Are you all right?” He could barely hear his stupid question over the pounding of his heart. Of course she wasn’t all right. What was he thinking? he wondered as she hugged her knee in pain.

  She nodded, but didn’t look up at him.

  Hurting for her, Luke scooped her into his arms. “Let’s get you over here and look at that.”

  “Put me down,” she said, but the tremble in her voice gave away her pain.

  “No,” he said, holding tight when she struggled against him. “Not till I make sure you’re all right.” He had a feeling he should do as she demanded—for his own well-being, he should put her down and walk away.

  That would be the smart thing to do on his part, but something about Montana Brown brought out the need to dig deeper and find out what had hurt her. Because there was no doubt in his mind that she’d been hurt. And he wanted to help.

  Jess would tell him to hit the road and not look back. But he couldn’t. For the first time ever, he couldn’t walk away.

  Montana’s knee was still stinging from the direct hit, but it was easing. Being in Luke’s arms had sent her reeling. “Not till I make sure you’re all right,” he’d drawled like John Wayne. Truth be told, if she hadn’t been so distracted by being in his arms, she might have thought he was charming!

  His arms tightened around her as she struggled to get free of his hold. It was useless, because the man was carrying her firmly toward the benches outside the arena. There was no getting free of him.

  “I’m fine.” She crossed her arms and tried not to notice how strong he was. Or how nice he smelled, a combination of pine and something citrus that drew her to inhale a little deeper. What was she doing? A few seconds ago, she was trying to get away from him. Now, she was in his arms…and liking it!

  “My knee doesn’t hurt anymore.” She squirmed for good measure.

  “Good. I’m still going to check it out. Be still,” he told her, almost harshly as he halted at the bench.

  “Why are you here anyway?” she asked, relieved as he lowered her to the first row of the metal grandstand benches.

  Sweeping his hat from his head, exposing his dark hair, he went down on one knee and looked her straight in the eyes. Goodness—she was speechless. His dark eyes seemed to burn through her. “Because I wanted to come see what you were doing.”

  Her pulse skittered at the straightforwardness of his answer. She gulped. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because, despite everything, I like you. Does this hurt?” He looked at her knee and gently probed around on it.

  Was he kidding? She was feeling no pain at the moment! “It’s tender but fine. It won’t do you any good to like me. I’ve told you that.” She meant it, too—even if she had been tempted to spill her guts to the man only a few minutes ago.

  He gave a disbelieving laugh. “Get over yourself, Montana. I thought you and I could be friends. That’s all. Whatever it is that’s eating at you, you might feel better if you talked about it. Just talk.”

  She studied him, mad at herself because she was tempted. “Why are you so interested in what’s eating me?”

  “I was right. Something is eating at you.”

  “I didn’t say that—”

  “Oh, yes, you did.”

  “Did not.”

  He dipped his chin, giving her a look that was just plain cute, even if it was a look of disbelief.

  He was almost eye level with her, since he was still kneeling and his hand rested on her knee. Her knee that had long since stopped hurting, but was now very aware of his touch.

  “Believe me, I know that some things can’t be changed.” His tone vibrated with sincerity. “But I can tell you that talking does help soften the sting.”

  That did it, time to move away from the man! Standing abruptly, she took a step away from him, tested her knee and was thankful it felt halfway okay. If she stayed that close to him much longer, she would be in deep trouble.

  He stood, too. “It’s a wonder your knee didn’t swell to the size of a watermelon. And how�
�s your back? I’d give you a score of ten for the dive-and-roll you did when you got tossed.”

  She laughed, easing the tension. “Amazingly, I’m feeling fine there, too. Of course, that might not be the story when I wake up tomorrow.”

  “True.” He continued watching her as she worked her knee, pacing a little. “Now, do you want to talk about it?”

  The man was impossible, she thought, as they stared at each other. She didn’t want to tell him her life story. Lacy knew the ridiculous details of her parents’ divorce, but she certainly wasn’t sharing it with Luke.

  Even if he had a way of looking at her as if he understood who she really, really was.

  Chapter Seven

  “You look like you’re moving slow today,” Sam said the next morning when Montana limped into the diner. The scent of Sam’s mouthwatering breakfast lingered in the air of the rustic diner.

  “Yeah,” Applegate grunted from the jukebox in the corner. “What happened to you? Get thrown from yor horse?” He grinned and stabbed the music selection he wanted with his boney finger.

  “Has somebody been in here talking?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nope,” Sam denied. “We didn’t need anyone to tell us anything. With you riding like you are and limping like that, too, it ain’t rocket science.”

  “Yup, it shor ain’t.” App walked to his table and sat down.

  “Where’s Stanley?” Montana asked. The vacant chair at App’s table looked odd.

  “He’s got the bazooties, ain’t nothing more than a bad cold, but he decided he’d better hole up in his house and let it run its course.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” She liked Stanley. Applegate and he might be nosey, but they’d always been sweet to her.

  “Me, too. Leaves me without a playin’ partner.”

  Montana held back a chuckle at his sour-faced frown.

  “How are you at checkers?” he asked, brightening like a lightbulb at his idea.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she grinned, unable to resist plopping down across from him. “Pass me some sunflower seeds, please.”

  “Really?” His jaw dropped.

  She held her hand out. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure. I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I got to town.”

  A huge smile lit up across App’s face. He handed her the five-pound bag of sunflower seeds and she dug out a small handful. “Is this enough?”

  “Might be a few too many. You’ll look like a chipmunk if you put too many in.”

  “I’d watch out if I was you,” Sam warned, from the table near the back where a booth full of cowboys were chomping down on breakfast like it was their last meal.

  “I’m not afraid of Applegate,” she huffed, and tossed the sunflower seeds into her mouth.

  He hiked a bushy brow. “You shor about that?”

  She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Oh, I’m shor, all right,” she warned. “Show me what you got, dude.” This was going to be fun.

  She and App studied the board.

  “You go first.” He squinted at her from across the table, like a gunfighter gauging his opponent. He looked to Montana like he had an itchy trigger finger. Holding her in his sights, he leaned out then one, two, three—he fired several sunflower shells at the spittoon on the floor next to the table.

  Feeling like the shells were growing in her mouth she leaned forward and took aim then fired away. Sadly, her shells spurted out kind of sickly like, missing their mark and hitting the floor in silence. Laid there with no glory. It was embarrassing, really.

  App hitched a caterpillar eyebrow. “I hope ya play checkers better’n ya spit.”

  She pushed the shells still in her mouth to the side so she could speak. “I’m going to try. It’s been a while, but it’s probably like riding a horse.”

  “Ya think?”

  “I think.” She winked at the older man, then made the first move. “Game on,” she said. It had been a long time since she’d played checkers. Chess had been more her dad’s speed. “More of a thinking-man’s game,” he’d been fond of saying, and had challenged her often. She’d been bored with the game, but she was glad to play it with him. Getting close to her dad had never been easy. Some kids played catch with their dad. She played chess. Not that she’d been very good at it, but she’d tried. She’d always wished they could have gone horseback riding together. The fact that he’d gotten her a horse when she was twelve had been a total surprise. Thinking back on it now, it was also about the time he’d begun to spend more time at the office.

  “You gonna move that checker or jest stare it ta death?”

  “Oh,” she gasped, nearly choking on a shell. She’d zoned out for a minute. “Hold your horses, I’m jumping.” She took a jump, and he immediately jumped two of hers.

  “You ain’t too smart at this here game, are ya?”

  Sam shook his head across the room. “I warned ya not ta get involved with ole App thar. He ain’t too good of a sport.”

  The door opened and she glanced over her shoulder. Instantly, she froze. Luke strode inside and his gaze locked onto hers like a missile onto a target. His eyes flicked from her to the room, then back to her.

  “Hey thar, Luke,” App bellowed. “Get on over here and help a poor old fellow out.”

  “Whoa, no outside help,” Montana growled, staring at the checkerboard, then making her move. She could feel Luke standing there, looking over her shoulder.

  “Looks like he’s not the one who needs help,” he drawled.

  She twisted her head and scowled up into his cocoa-colored eyes. He blinked innocently and smiled.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m only sayin’ that was a lousy move you just made.”

  “Well, don’t be sayin’ then. I’ll make my own moves and suffer or celebrate on my own.” She spat a sunflower seed at the spittoon, and it hit the edge before landing on his boot. Perfect shot.

  The look on his face was priceless. She grinned at him.

  “Cute. Real cute.” He slid across the floor to stand beside App. “I think I’ll watch you suffer from over here.”

  She wasn’t planning on losing, but App made his jump, and after she made her next move, the sly man wiped her out! Talk about feeling foolish…it was pitiful. After that, the game was short and not so sweet. It was humiliating. Chess was more complicated, and yet she’d lost to App like a schoolgirl who’d never played a game of chess or checkers.

  Eyeing her, App chucked a handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth and grinned, showing teeth all the way back to his molars. “That was like taking candy from a baby.”

  Luke chuckled. “Those very well could be fighting words, App. Montana doesn’t take losing very well.”

  Sam had stopped by to watch the last play, and now he snorted. “App don’t, either. Stanley usually whups him good.”

  “He does not,” App grumbled.

  Sam hooted with laughter. “You can deny it all you want, Applegate Thornton, but you know it’s the truth.”

  “It’s all right, App.” Montana grinned, feeling at peace with the loss. She’d enjoyed her game despite Luke’s presence. Why was it, when she didn’t want a man in her life, God sent one along who totally made her crazy?

  “Fellas, it’s been fun, but I’ve gotta go,” she said.

  “But you ain’t ate nothin’,” Sam said.

  “I just came in to say hi. I was picking up a few supplies down at Pete’s and thought I’d pop in.”

  App grinned. “You didn’t know you was gonna get yourself talked into a rowdy game of checkers, did ya?”

  “No, App. I had no idea I was going to be a stand-in for Stanley. You tell him he better feel better soon, because I’m not doing his empty chair justice.”

  “I’ll tell him. I’m goin’ over thar in a few minutes ta take him some chicken noodle soup ole Sam cooked up special fer him.”

  “You better be careful and not catch his bug.”

  “I can’t catc
h it. I ain’t goin’ past the porch. He’s on his own from thar on out.”

  Montana could understand App’s attitude. He really didn’t need to catch what his buddy had. But what if Stanley needed someone to check on him more closely? Her immune system was excellent; she hadn’t been ill in ages. “What would he say if I took the soup by to him?”

  All three men stared at her as if she was the last person on earth they expected to offer such an act of kindness. “Why are y’all looking at me like I just said the last thing any of you expected me to say?”

  Sam slapped his white dishrag over his shoulder. “Fer starters, you don’t hardly know Stanley.”

  “I know Stanley. I’ve been in here several times since I came to town, and he’s been nothing but nice to me.”

  “That is true,” App said. “Stanley’s loud, but he liked you from the moment you stomped in here with Lacy. ’Sides that, any friend of Lacy’s is a friend of ours…and better than that, yor her family.”

  “That’s awful sweet of you to say. I liked the three of you from the first time I met y’all, too.” She included Sam in the three. She did not look at Luke on that one.

  Sam gave her a frank look. “I kin tell you fer shor that Stanley would prefer gettin’ his chicken soup delivered by a purdy gal like you a whole lot more than from a shriveled up old geezer like App. I’ll go fix it up right now.”

  Luke crossed his arms, watching her with an expression that was part amused, part amazed. Did he really not think she could be nice and take a sick man a bowl of soup?

  “Do you know where Stanley lives?” Luke asked finally.

  “No. But App can give me directions.”

  “It’s kinda off the beaten path,” App said. “Stanley lives off a dirt road, off of another dirt road, way down past my house.”

  “You can tell me. I can follow directions pretty good.” Did they really didn’t think she couldn’t take directions? How hard could it be to find a dirt road?

  Sam came out of the kitchen with a large carryout bag. “You jest take this to him and tell him it should last him a couple of days. But if I was you, I’d get ol’ Luke here ta drive ya out thar. Ain’t no tellin’ what in the world you might run into out thar in the boonies.”