Page 1 of Choosing the Montana Cowboy

Chapter One

Natalie Wright satin her rental car, AC cranked, sunglasses on, and noise-canceling AirPods in. It was her pre-presentation routine, designed for mind clearing and courage bolstering. This evening, Sara Bareilles was in her ear encouraging her to bebraaaaaave, which would have been a whole lot easier if she wasn’t parked facing Copper Mountain. The giant landmark stood sentry over tiny Marietta, Montana, the sight equally breathtaking and foreboding.

Natalie drew in a deep breath and let the song’s words wash over her. There was nothing to be nervous about—she’d spent weeks preparing for this public hearing, researching the town, its history, and its finances to the nth degree. Her company’s resort could go a long way toward reviving the small, former mining community.

No, not could.Would. It would help move them further out of the red and into the black. She truly believed that, which made the prospect of selling Terakion Enterprise’s proposal to its townsfolk an exciting one. All she had to do now was go in there and get them to believe it, too.

And once she did, Natalie would have more successful, completed projects than any of the other internal applicants vying for the open senior project lead position—one of the few jobs at her wonderful company that involved less travel and would finally allow her to put down roots.

On a determined nod, she gathered her things and headed for the courthouse. To her surprise, every door she tried on the beautiful, historic building was locked up tight. Perplexed, Natalie pulled out her cell phone to quadruple-check her calendar. The hearing was today, wasn’t it?

“You’re early, young lady.”

Nat looked up to find an older, portly man walking toward her and offered him a broad smile. “I learned ages ago that early is a must. Are you able to get me inside?”

“I’d be a terrible mayor if I couldn’t. It’s Natalie, correct?”

Now she recognized his voice; they’d spoken on the phone several times prior to her arrival. “Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mayor.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. I’ve been looking forward to hearing your presentation. Seems like this resort could be a real boost for our area.” He stepped past her to swipe a badge across an electronic faceplate beside the door. A beep sounded followed by a soft click, and the mayor pulled the door open wide. “You’re lucky I forgot my travel mug or you would have been sitting on these steps for another half hour. We’re not used to vendors being so punctual.”

“Really?” Natalie pulled her rolling briefcase across the front door’s threshold into a wide lobby, her nose greeted by the smell she could only describe asold building. It instantly brought back memories of the hunting cabin her family used to vacation at when she was young. Natalie missed those days.

“Actually, we don’t have many vendors come on-site period anymore. Most default to doing their presentations online these days.”

“Ah. Well, at Terakion, we pride ourselves in establishing a presence in the communities we partner with during our projects.” Which was why she had a room at the Bramble House reserved for the next week. Hopefully, her project would receive its needed votes tonight, and she’d be able to stay longer while helping oversee permit acquisitions and the construction kickoff. Natalie had never been to Montana before, and she was looking forward to soaking up the amazing views of Big Sky country. “Our thinking is that it’s easier to build relationships on-site rather than across the miles.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he said.

The mayor led her to where the Crawford County officials held their public meetings, then excused himself with a promise to return before the meeting got started. Natalie thanked him and took a moment to size up the room. The meeting space was a wide rectangle, its walls a subtle cream color and floors covered in a navy-blue carpet worn thin in several places.

Note to self: watch where you step tonight.

At the head of the room were three wooden desks, their designs rustic yet elegant. Atop each was a microphone and a pad and pen—she guessed that was where the commissioners or board members sat during their meetings. The desks faced five rows of stackable chairs, a small pathway cleared down the center of the room for speaker access. At the front of the seating area stood a lone wooden podium wired with its own microphone. On the wall to her left hung a wide retractable projector screen; to her right, additional tables lined the opposite wall, and a large projector hung from the ceiling.

Excellent—it was just as the commissioner’s secretary had said it would be; Natalie had learned the hard way early in her career with Terakion that room setup was something to confirm ahead of time. Even so, she always brought her own projector and extra cables just in case—a tip her mentor at work had shared after he’d found himself stuck on more than one occasion.

Natalie unpacked her things, the words to “Brave” still echoing in her mind. She could absolutely do this. The resort presented a great opportunity for Marietta and its surrounding area. Even better, the proposed build site was far enough from downtown that it shouldn’t impact daily traffic or divert sales from existing businesses. In fact, try as she might, Nat hadn’t identified a single negative to Terakion’s proposed development, the River Bend Resort—yet another reason she was feeling optimistic about tonight, intimidating mountain looming just outside or not.

Highly optimistic. All she had to do was win over the townsfolk.

Totally doable.

“I still can’t come up with a single good reason for adding some swanky resort to Marietta,” a man said, his deep voice followed by a clatter of footsteps in the main hall.

Nat grimaced. Okay, so this wouldn’t be a complete cakewalk. Maybe some light conversation and refreshments would help.

“You worry too much,” said an older, gentler male voice. “Enjoy the night off.”

“Of course I worry, and so should you. And not just about what desserts that might be here.”

Nat grinned and reached for the box propped atop her rolling briefcase. Plastic cups and two gallons of red punch purchased from the small grocery in town this afternoon, and cookies from a place called the Java Café. Small towns loved to be fed treats with presentations, and not just with store-bought cookies. Buying local helped earn trust—another tip from her beloved mentor before he retired.

“You will be nice tonight, Samuel,” a woman said, authority in her tone. “And Eli, behave yourself.”

“Yes, dear.”

Nat grinned as she began setting out the refreshments. Was this Eli a natural troublemaker or just being ornery tonight? This was one of the parts she loved most about her job—reading people. Some were easier than others.

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