Page 37 of Choosing the Montana Cowboy

“And your sister? Was she scared of him, too?”

“If she was, she didn’t show it. Julianna doesn’t like to look… well, anything other than perfect and in control.”

Sam pulled the truck to a stop along a fence row that separated the land from a wide stream. “Are you two very close?”

She wanted to say yes. Had wanted that for as long as she could remember. Instead, she told the truth. “Not really. I think she always viewed me more as a tagalong than an equal.”

“Maybe she’ll grow out of it someday.”

Natalie smirked. “I’m not holding my breath. When I asked her to put a good word in at Terakion, you would have thought I’d asked her for a kidney. And when I called to thank her after I got the job offer, all she said was, ‘Don’t ruin this for me.’”

“She sounds lovely.” He winked. “But then, it must have been hard for her, growing up with someone as naturally charming as you.”

Had he just paid her a sincere compliment? Whowasthis guy?

Sam killed the engine and opened his door. “You mentioned last night that dolphins and goldfish weren’t too scary. Does the same apply for rainbow trout?”

“We’re going fishing?” She threw her door open and jumped to the ground, scanning the water ahead.

“Sure are. If you’re up for it, of course.”

“Heck, yeah! My grandpa used to take me fishing every weekend as a kid. He told my parents it was the only time he got me to stop talking for more than five minutes.”

Sam laughed. “Impressive. And relatable.”

She gave his shoulder a swat. “Be nice.”

“I am being nice. I got you off that horse, didn’t I?” At her grin, he winked. “Exactly. Now, help me grab our gear before the day gets away from us.”

That, Natalie didn’t want to happen. She followed after her handsome tour guide, surprised to find he had an inflatable boat in the truck bed, along with a portable air compressor. In no time, they had the boat inflated and fishing gear loaded inside.

“So, what creek is this?” she asked as he launched the boat.

“Actually, it’s a branch of the Marietta River. Feeds into the Yellowstone River farther downstream.”

Natalie took in the wide, shallow body of water. “This is a river? We have streams bigger than this back home.”

“Trust me, it doesn’t always look like this. The Marietta runs shallow when it’s not storming or the mountain snow’s not melting. There doesn’t seem to be much of a current today, so we’ll just drift and fish. When we’re done, we’ll just pull the boat onto shore and walk back for the truck. Sound good to you?”

“Sure. I can’t imagine we’ll move very far. Whoa—did you see that fish? It washuge.Ope, there’s another!”

Grinning, Sam handed her a paddle. “They grow ’em bigger in Montana. My hope is that we’ll catch enough to fry up for dinner.”

“You aren’t going to make me clean the ones we catch, are you?” She grimaced at the memory of watching her grandfather try to teach her. “I never could stomach that side of things.”

He laughed. The warm and inviting sound echoed across the water. “No, I think I’ve traumatized you enough for one day.”

Once Sam found a spot on the water to his liking, they baited their lures and cast out. But for as many fish as she’d seen along the way, suddenly there were none to be found. And with no fish around, staying quiet was a moot point.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, gaze remaining on his lure.

“Did you always want to be a rancher?”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Actually, I wanted to be an astronaut.”

“What?” Her outburst echoed across the water, which earned her an arched brow. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Sorry. Why an astronaut?”

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