Page 20 of Montana's Bravest

“Watch and learn, mate,” he says with a slap on my back.

The crowd’s getting antsy, so I deploy Maximus. He’s a pro at distraction, coaxing a group outside to the creek’s edge. There, he laps up the spotlight—frolicking, showing off, and pulling every trick he’s got.

But then the thunder rumbles, and he’s back at my side, jittery.

“It’s alright, big guy,” I say, patting him. “You stay close to me.”

The afternoon sun comes out, brightening up the sky as if canceling the storm. Then Maximus starts barking. Through the front window, I see a van approaching the causeway over the creek.

“Looks like your savior’s arrived,” Charlie seems to notice too.

I check the time. Thirty minutes on the dot. “No way,” I mutter under my breath.

“What did I say, my friend?” Charlie puts his arm around my neck. “Her brewery is only half an hour away from here.”

It’s not the imminent drink delivery that’s got my pulse racing. It’s that van, it’s the same Fallen Angel rig from The Thirsty Fox.

Without even seeing her, my heart kicks up a ruckus in my chest. I’ve been trying to block her from my thoughts, but it’s a losing battle. Now, I’ve got this nagging feeling I’m on the cusp of making a dumb move. She’s just going to be here to deliver the beer, and my cock needs to stay inside my pants.

Charlie’s frowning. “Why’s she stopped?”

I squint to catch the face of the driver, but the distance and the dusty windshield make it impossible for me to answer the burning question: is Cassidy Winter reallymyfallen angel?

Maximus’ barking continues, and if I’m still attuned to my dog’s way of communicating, I’m sure that’s the exact bark I heard in that alleyway at the back of The Thirsty Fox.

“Maximus, stay!” I command. He might be eager to see her again, but there’s a chance that the driver is someone else. I don’t want the dog to unleash his hyper enthusiasm on an unsuspecting stranger and get himself into trouble.

But the van stalls at the far end of the causeway, and this time I realize the more important question to answer is indeed Charlie’s question.Why has she stopped?

“Come here, Max,” Mark says, tugging the mutt.

I excuse myself and jog toward the van, the wind picking up, pressing the water onto the causeway. As I weave through the cool mist, I notice she’s parked away from the water’s reach.

“Hey!” I call out, peering into the driver’s side.

There she is—my fallen angel, but she’s looking like she’s staring down her own personal apocalypse. Between the two of us, I should be the one who’s terrified because she’s supposed to be out of my head, and now she’s about to drive right into my home.

But with her breath coming in short bursts, this is no time for pleasantries. This woman is having a panic attack.

My instinct kicks in.

“Cassidy,” I murmur, slipping into the passenger seat. “You okay?”

When she doesn’t respond, I lay a hand on her shoulder.

A deep breath lifts her chest, a subtle nod to my presence. Her eyes remain fixed on the water churning against the causeway, her expression filled with terror as if she was about to pass through hell’s gate.

I will fight men for her. But how am I going to protect her from… the earth?

“Are you okay?” My voice rises above the patter of the rain, a firmer squeeze on her shoulder.

Cassidy exhales sharply. “Sorry,” she turns to me, a strained smile fighting through. “This place… it seemed too quiet for a party house.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” I glance at the ignition. “Everything okay with the van?”

“Yeah.” She releases the steering wheel and extends a hand. “I’m Cassidy. You must be Samuel?”

The way she said my full name is like a touch of magic. One that makes buds suddenly sprout out of what should be a petrified tree. After the curious start of our encounter in downtown Helena, today it feels like we’re no longer strangers.

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