Page 13 of Choosing the Montana Cowboy

He threw his truck into reverse, almost feeling guilty about the fib. But that little white lie sounded a whole lot better than admitting he was pining for another city girl. Which he shouldn’t be. Time to shut that thinking down before he went and got himself hurt all over again.

Sam made a quick stop at his place to shower and change into a clean set of clothes. No sense in making poor Ren suffer through the scent of working man while they discussed the status of their land lease. He was in and out in under ten minutes, then headed straight for the lodge.

“Thank you, Samuel,” Gran said as he helped her into his truck. “I love your grandfather to the stars and back, but some days it’s a struggle not to wring his wrinkled old neck.”

Sam chuckled as he grabbed a fresh T-shirt from the back seat. “Still no luck finding his dentures, huh?”

“No.” She frowned, her gaze shifting to the windshield. “If they weren’t so outrageously expensive, I’d order him a second pair.”

“So, what—he can’t drive without them in?”

Grans snorted. “Of course he can. But you know your grandfather—he can’t go into town without stopping to talk to every friend he sees. And for that, he wants to have his smile on right.”

She rolled her eyes, but Sam knew it was all an act. Gran and Gramps loved each other more than any couple he’d ever known. Even more than his parents, and that was saying something. Their deep connection was something he’d hoped to develop in his own marriage. For a time, it seemed to be working. But the longer Sasha was here, the more distant she became.

Some people just weren’t meant to be country folk—a saying he’d refused to believe until he’d seen it for himself. He just wished he’d listened to Gramps from the start.

Up ahead, a jackrabbit bounded across his path. Sam kept his speed slow and steady as he followed their gravel drive out to the main road, doing his best not to upset nature any more than necessary. His gaze wandered across the yellowing meadow grasses, past the fence dividing the Flying J from the Nelson property, to the sea of alfalfa his family planted on the leased land. The sight that usually brought him peace today increased his anxiety.

“We’ll find a way to protect the ranch,” Gran said softly.

Sam nodded. “I’m just not sure that you playing nice with Miss Natalie is going to make that happen.”

As he drove, Gran shared her theory. She was convinced Natalie wasn’t fully on board with the resort, not after their family had brought up the lease. After talking to a few of the town’s elders this morning, they weren’t 100 percent behind the development, either.

“If we get her caught in a moral dilemma, it can work to our favor,” she said as they made it into town. “That is,ifyou didn’t already ruin our chances.”

Sam frowned as he looped around the block so he could drop Gran off in front of the café. “I told you, we talked, that’s all. Shared a conversation between two grown—”

His thoughts scattered as a familiar backside came into view, hurrying up the sidewalk ahead. Damn, he was really hoping not to see her again so soon. Why had Gramps gone and lost his teeth again today of all days?

“Uh, adults.” Sam paused at the four-way stop, then continued on, hoping to pass by without her noticing. Unfortunately, at the sound of his diesel, she turned in their direction, eyes narrowing with recognition.

Gran offered her a wave then looked to Sam. “Then why is Miss Natalie glaring at your truck?”

Because she’s the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met?“Maybe the sun was in her eyes.”

Gran smacked him on the arm. “The sun, my ass. Next time I tell you to play nice, try harder.” As he reached for his door, she added, “And don’t you dare show your face around the diner until I have time to undo whatever it is you did last night. Better yet? Go hole up in the Java Café. I’ll come find you there when I’m done.”

Sam remained in his seat as ordered. He didn’t like Gran getting out of his truck on her own, but he wasn’t stupid enough to go against her wishes. She gave him one more warning look before turning for the diner. He waited until she was safely inside before continuing on to find a parking spot. Hopefully, Ren Fletcher would be able to give their family the first good news they’d had this week.

Chapter Five

Natalie shook herhead as she continued on, ignoring the way her pulse quickened at the sight of Sam Miles in that big truck of his with the Flying J logo painted on its forward doors. A truck she’d pretended not to notice parked across from the Bramble House last night. At first, it bothered her to see him there. But after the catcalls that had followed her out the bar door last night, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit safer, knowing he was there, looking out for her like he’d offered to do.

Even after she’d more or less walked out on him last night.

Which, she reminded herself, was completely within her right. They weren’t having a meeting, nor was it a date. They’d just been two adults happening by the same watering hole on the same night. Pure coincidence. And she’d actually enjoyed his company their first few minutes together. But then he’d started in about his ranch and how her company was about to do his family wrong, and there was nothing she could have said to convince him otherwise.

Natalie stepped aside to let a young couple exit the Java Café. The scent of coffee tickled her senses as they passed. Lord, she loved the smell of coffee. A good thing, since she was known to drink it all day long.

In fact, she’d been on pot number two in her room at the Bramble House this morning when the mayor’s secretary, Patty, had called, saying he had a free hour this afternoon, and could she meet him at the Java Café at three? Natalie hadn’t believed her luck. She’d immediately said yes—if she could make sure he was in support of their project, hopefully he could help influence the other voters on the planning board. Patty had said he always sat at the middle table against the back wall, and that if he wasn’t there when she arrived, not to worry—he’d likely be along shortly.

Natalie stepped inside the shop, and the scent of coffee intensified. It was mostly empty, the back middle table’s three chairs vacant as well. Relieved she hadn’t kept him waiting, Natalie made her way to the table and dropped off her notepad before making her way back to the order counter. A display case sat to the counter’s left, full of a dozen varieties of pastries and desserts.

As she debated which delectable item to try today—because if the coffee was half as good as it smelled, she would definitely be back tomorrow—the front door swung open and a gust of warm air hit her back. Natalie looked over her shoulder, ready to greet the mayor. But instead, Sam Miles stepped inside and removed his hat. She quickly turned away.

Did cowboys often visit Montana coffee shops in the middle of the afternoon? And hadn’t his grandmother been in the truck with him?

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