This cowboy is back home to start over...

but two adorable surprises wait at Mustang Ridge

After one wild ride too many, rodeo star Tyler Wilkins is back in his Montana hometown starting from scratch. But he sure didn’t expect to find that he and Morgan Whittaker—the feisty rancher he left behind—have two adorable daughters. Can this reckless cowboy become a man Morgan will trust enough to earn the title of daddy…and possibly husband?

MIA ROSS loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at miaross.com.

Also by Mia Ross

Mustang Ridge

Beneath Montana Skies

Liberty Creek

Mending the Widow’s Heart

The Bachelor’s Baby

His Two Little Blessings

Oaks Crossing

Her Small-Town Cowboy

Rescued by the Farmer

Hometown Holiday Reunion

Falling for the Single Mom

Barrett’s Mill

Blue Ridge Reunion

Sugar Plum Season

Finding His Way Home

Loving the Country Boy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Beneath Montana Skies

Mia Ross

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09045-2

BENEATH MONTANA SKIES

© 2018 Andrea Chermak

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“Allie and Hannah are my daughters, aren’t they, Morgan?” Tyler asked.

“No, Ty, they’re my daughters.” Tapping her chest for emphasis, Morgan went on, “They’re Whittakers, end of story.”

Folding his arms, he scowled down at her. Then his demeanor shifted, and he grimaced as if she’d sucker punched him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a quiet voice laced with regret.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” she shot back. “You walked out on me with no explanation, no forwarding address. I didn’t think you were exactly father material.”

Tyler absorbed that in silence, a woeful look settling into an expression she’d never seen on him before.

Gazing out the door toward the house, he turned back to her with the firm jaw she recalled so well. “I would’ve found a way to make it work for us. You know that. You never even gave me a chance.”

Morgan had to acknowledge that he was right, and the twinge of guilt she felt grew more insistent even as she tried to reason it away...

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Mustang Ridge!

I’ve always wanted to write a story set out West somewhere, and I had an absolute blast with this one. The idea came to me one night while my family and I were watching a documentary about a small town in Montana that was fighting against planned mining and energy development. What struck me was that the people waging this battle were everyday folks: farmers, ranchers and small business owners. They banded together to keep those changes from destroying the wild beauty of the land they treasured.

Morgan Whittaker stepped onto that same stage, strong, determined and ready to meet any challenge. Or so she thought. As capable as this rancher and single mom had always been, she quickly realized that her latest effort would require a team dedicated to keeping her hometown the way it was meant to be. She had plenty of courage when it came to animals and hard work, but taking on a challenge this huge required her to lean on her strong faith and trust in someone she’d long thought was out of her life forever.

After all he’d been through, Ty Wilkins needed some of that faith himself to start his life over. He found it in the smiles of the daughters he met for the first time. Forging a connection with them instantly, he was willing to do whatever it took to be part of their lives. Forgiving himself for past mistakes was another story. Once he did, he was open to embracing a future with Morgan, creating the kind of family he’d always longed for.

This is just the beginning of the story of Mustang Ridge. I’m looking forward to finding out what happens next!

If you’d like to stop in and see what I’ve been up to, you’ll find me online at www.miaross.com, Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads. While you’re there, send me a message. I’d love to hear from you!

Mia Ross

Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.

—Luke 6:37

For all the people fighting to keep our wild lands wild.

Acknowledgments

To Melissa Endlich and the dedicated staff at Love Inspired. These very talented folks help me make my books everything they can be.

More thanks to the gang at Seekerville (www.seekerville.Blogspot.com), a great place to hang out with readers—and writers.

I’ve been blessed with a wonderful network of supportive, encouraging family and friends. You inspire me every day!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

“Hey there, cowgirl.”

Holding a fifty-pound bag of sweet feed balanced on her shoulder, Morgan Whittaker froze in midstep. It couldn’t be, she thought, before it occurred to her that was just wishful thinking. The once-familiar voice behind her could only belong to one person, and although she hadn’t heard that smooth tenor in ages, she’d recognize it anywhere.

Very slowly, she turned halfway around and let her eyes confirm her suspicion. Thankfully, she was wearing her mirrored aviator sunglasses, so he couldn’t see the contempt she knew must be plain in her eyes. “Tyler Wilkins. What’re you doing here in Mustang Ridge?”

Under the brim of his cream-colored Stetson, the gold tinting his hazel eyes sparked with a bit of his infamous temper. But it quickly mellowed, replaced by one of those easygoing grins that had charmed her—and countless other women—for so long. “Well, now, last time I checked, this was my hometown, too. I haven’t been to Montana in a while, so I figured it was time for me to make a visit.”

“I’d say seven years is more than a while.” For her, it was a lifetime ago. She was almost thirty now, and for her those days were a distant memory. From the look of things, nothing had changed for him, except that his rangy, athletic build had filled out a bit. He was more solid now, but she knew from hard-won experience that was just an illusion. There had never been anything solid about Ty. Unfortunately for her, she’d discovered the truth about him too late. “And since it’s June, shouldn’t you be headed to Reno for that big roundup I read about? The article said the humongous rodeo purse is drawing every able-bodied cowboy west of the Mississippi.”

Something flashed across his weathered features, and for a brief moment she thought it almost looked like regret. Then again, the cocky bull rider had never been prone to remorse, even when he was clearly in the wrong. The look vanished quickly, and she decided it had just been a trick of the sunlight and shadows underneath the overhang that shaded the sidewalk in front of Big Sky Feed and Seed.

“Not goin’ this year,” he said simply, hooking his thumbs into his wide leather belt.

She noticed that he wasn’t wearing his prized silver champions buckle because, really, you couldn’t miss one of those if you tried. Something about him wasn’t adding up for her, and while she shouldn’t care, she had to admit that she was suddenly curious about what had brought him home. Figuring it couldn’t hurt to ask, she dove in boots first. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer, and when he took a step toward her, she instinctively pulled away. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking that bag of feed before it caves your shoulder in.”

Suddenly aware that she’d slumped a bit under the weight, she straightened up and glared back at him. “I’m perfectly capable of handling it myself.”

“Suit yourself.”

He didn’t retreat, but he did drop his hands. Realizing that people were beginning to stare at them, she ignored his helpful gesture and heaved the bag into the back of her 4x4. She turned to catch him wearing an expression that struck her as being almost mournful before a half grin rushed in to replace it. “To answer your question about the rodeo, I’m just taking some time off. No big deal.”

Any idiot could tell there was more to the story than that, but she didn’t have the time or the patience to drag anything more out of him. Besides, he was obviously not keen to talk about it, or he would have spilled his guts to her already. She still couldn’t believe he’d approached her in the middle of the street this way. Then again, he’d probably been hoping that a meeting in public would keep things between them more or less civil. Apparently, he’d gotten smarter since the last time she saw him.

She’d mostly recovered from the shock of seeing him, so she called up her backbone and opened the driver’s door. “Well, enjoy your vacation. Bye.”

She climbed into the cab and reached out to pull the door closed, but he stopped it with a strong hand scarred from years of rope burns and broken bones. Glancing down at the door and then up at her, he asked, “What’s this decal for the Mustang Ridge Conservancy about? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a new organization in town,” she explained as patiently as she could. “There’s a group of local residents working to make sure this area stays the way it is and out of the clutches of a big energy developer that’s been sniffing around the last few months.”

“Looking for what?”

“Natural gas and oil. That may or may not be under the ground, and may or may not be feasible to pump out of where it is.”

A slow grin worked its way across the face that was still way too handsome for the good of any woman within ten miles. “You sound mad.”

“I am,” she spat. “What they’ve got in mind will destroy the environment, and the idea of it makes me furious. My family’s been here on our original homestead for generations, and so have plenty of others. If we have anything to say about it, that land will stay the way it’s always been.”

“Sounds like a tough job.”

“We’ll figure it out.” They had to, she added silently, because the alternative wasn’t even worth thinking about.

“Speaking of your family, I was hoping to stop by and see JD while I’m in town. Ya think that’d be okay?”

Her father would probably take one look at his visitor and start choosing a shotgun from the rack in his den. In all honesty, Morgan thought that would be entertaining to watch. “It’s fine with me. If he doesn’t want to see you, I have no doubt he’ll tell you so.”

Ty stared at her through narrowed eyes, the brim of his hat adding an old gunslinger effect to the look. After a moment, though, that infernal grin was back in place. “We’re neighbors, so we’re gonna have to deal with each other at some point. No time like the present, right?”

Morgan didn’t really care if he dropped off the face of the earth and was never seen again. But that sounded childish, even to her, so she went with a noncommittal shrug. “Whatever.”

“My truck’s over there,” he commented, nodding to a flashy silver extended cab model parked across the street. It made her keenly aware that the mud-spattered vehicle she was driving was looking pretty ragged these days. “Mind if I follow you out there?”

“Whatever.”

This time, he wisely let her close the door. She gave it a little more muscle than was strictly necessary, and the slam echoed off the two-story buildings that flanked both sides of the small Main Street business district. She started the engine, then noticed that he was still hanging in the open window, arms spread wide as if he was reluctant to let her go. Tamping down her impatience to be free of him, she glowered up at him. “Was there something else, Ty?”

“Yeah.” After a deep breath, he grimaced and said the words she’d given up on ever hearing. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she demanded, his remorse only adding fuel to her temper. “Slinking out of Houston in the middle of the night, or never having the guts to tell me why?”

“Both, and all the other things I did wrong with you. With us,” he added in a somber tone. “You deserved better than what you got from me, but I want you to know that I honestly loved you.”

A flood of long-buried emotions was threatening to swamp her good sense, but Morgan ruthlessly shoved them back into the dark recesses of her heart where they belonged. The boy she’d once loved had let her down in the worst conceivable way, and no matter how handsome or contrite the man standing in front of her seemed to be, she had no intention of letting him off the hook now. Or ever.

“Thanks. You know the way.”

As she started the engine, he gave her the kind of lost-puppy-dog look that she’d never seen from the arrogant cowboy she’d known most of her life.

“Can you forgive me?” he asked.

Angling a look at him from behind her sunglasses, she cocked her head in a show of considering his request. And then, because he totally deserved it, she brought the hammer down on him. “No.”

With that, she shifted into Reverse and backed out of her spot, not caring whether she ran over his fancy riding boots or not. She caught sight of him in her rearview and tried not to be jealous of him as he strode across the street and beeped his truck open with one of those fancy new key fobs that did everything but order pizza for you.

Who did he think he was, anyway, she fumed while she sped out of town and toward the sanctuary of her family’s ranch. Ambushing her like that, apologizing as if what he’d done to her was no big deal?

It had been an enormous, life-altering deal for her, and while things had turned out well enough, she resented the fact that he’d been able to blithely go on to enjoy a fabulous career when she’d had to sacrifice her own.

That was in the past now, she reminded herself, feeling the wind pick up as she increased her speed outside the town limits. Not far from the quaint shops and vintage theater, the scenery changed dramatically, and she felt her temper subsiding as she looked around her at the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. Mile after mile of wild beauty and rolling free-range pastureland flew past, broken up by ranches and small farms that seemed to be part of the landscape instead of built on top of it. Off in the distance the sun reflected off the southern face of the Bridger Mountains, giving them a cloud-like appearance that was still unlike anything she’d ever seen.

During her rodeo career, she’d traveled all over the country, racking up one barrel-racing trophy after another because she and her half-mustang palomino, Sadie, were just a tick crazier than their competition. But no city or town she’d ever been to could hold a candle to home. That was what made it home, she supposed as she turned into the long drive marked by a hand-carved sign that read Whittaker Ranch—1882.

Driving between long lines of board fence, she caught sight of her mare and smiled for the first time since Ty had rattled her in town. She pulled over and was mildly annoyed when he followed suit. Determined not to let him ruin her moment, she grabbed some dried apple slices from the stash she kept in the glove box and got out.

Sadie’s ears perked up when Morgan came around the car and headed for the fence. Nickering a greeting, the gorgeous horse tossed her head like the diva she was and pushed against the top rail, craning her neck to reach the treats.

“Hold on to yourself,” Morgan teased, using her father’s equine version of hold your horses. Sadie angled a look at her, and she laughed as she held out a handful of Sadie’s favorite snack. They were gone in an instant, and while she was snuffling around for more, she noticed Ty.

Blowing out an excited breath, she danced along the rail to where he was standing, arms spread over the top as if he’d been waiting for her to notice him. He showed her his empty hands, but apparently she didn’t mind that he didn’t have anything for her. Nosing under his palm, she nudged him into petting her cheek, then ruffling her forelock the way she liked.

“Traitor,” Morgan grumbled, but the horse didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t happy.

“How are you, Sadie girl?” their unwelcome visitor cooed, a bright smile lighting his face. “It’s been so long, I wasn’t sure you’d remember me. Clyde’s on his way, should be here day after tomorrow. Maybe we’ll come by and you two can get reacquainted.”

“If Clyde’s coming, you must be planning to stay,” Morgan said, hoping she sounded casual about the prospect. She’d assumed he was on vacation, and learning that he was planning to stick around awhile didn’t exactly thrill her.

“Not sure right now,” he hedged, rubbing Sadie’s cheek in a pitifully obvious attempt to avoid Morgan’s gaze.

Typical Ty, she thought bitterly. Look up commitmentphobe in the dictionary, you’d probably find his picture. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She didn’t want to care, but there was a teeny tiny part of her that still did. Stupid, but true.

A bit of compassion for him bubbled free of her control, and she heard herself saying, “Well, I’m sure you’ll get it all figured out.”

Glancing up from under his hat, he gave her the kind of sheepish look she’d never seen on him before. “Thanks.”

He’d stopped petting Sadie, and the spirited animal snorted her disapproval. Clearly out of patience, she gave another head toss before wheeling away from the fence and galloping off in the stunning burst of speed that had made her—and her fortunate rider—a champion many times over.

“Still gorgeous,” Ty murmured, his gaze tracking the mare as she seemed to float over the ground. Then he looked over at Morgan, and his mouth crinkled in the boyish half grin that had first buckled her knees as a teenager. “Both of you.”

It was a blatant attempt at getting on her good side, making her forget that he’d abandoned her after one of their infamous fights and had never looked back. Scowling at him for all she was worth, Morgan turned on her heel and stalked back to her car. That’s what she got for showing him some sympathy, she railed silently as the engine roared to life and she jammed the transmission into gear. The sound of gravel spitting out from under the tires perfectly matched her mood as she flew up the driveway toward the house.

If Ty Wilkins thought a few sad looks and canned compliments were going to undo what he’d done to her, that cowboy had another think coming. Once he left town, everything would go back to the way it was before he showed up. She just wished he hadn’t taken it into his head to make a detour to Mustang Ridge.

She could have happily lived the rest of her life never laying eyes on him again.

Still a spitfire.

The thought flew through Ty’s mind almost as fast as Morgan’s 4x4 was speeding away from him. During his long drive up from Texas, he’d spent a lot of his time picturing what it might be like when he encountered the fiery cowgirl again. Some of the scenarios had been downright frightening, to the point that he’d almost reconsidered the wisdom of his approach.

Then it had occurred to him that he owned nothing in this world except a few acres of land, some rodeo trophies and his truck.

Although the truck wouldn’t be his much longer, he reminded himself grimly. He’d be delivering it to its new owner tomorrow, and then he’d start hunting for something he could afford. After hitting rock bottom a few months ago, he’d come dangerously close to being forced to sell his horse. By sheer, stubborn will, he’d managed to hold on to the prized cutting horse, but it had been a near thing. He’d gotten some insane offers, but even for a down-and-out cowboy, some things were priceless.

He might have lost everything else—including his dignity—but he still had Clyde. It was one of the few victories he could claim recently. Actually, he amended as he eased himself into the cab to follow Morgan, it was the only victory. That was the unexpected advantage he’d discovered in losing pretty much everything you once considered important. Whatever you had left meant a lot more to you.

At the end of the driveway was the same sprawling farmhouse he recalled from his childhood. Driving toward it, he admired the menagerie of animals grazing in the two pastures that flanked the gravel lane. While they came across as gritty ranchers, in truth the Whittakers were all softhearted critter collectors who couldn’t seem to turn away anything that needed a home. Among the kaleidoscopic herd of about twenty horses, he spotted several goats, a cluster of sheep and something that looked suspiciously like a miniature camel.

The latter slowly raised its head, chewing its cud in a back and forth motion that gave its shaggy face a pensive appearance. When it levered its head back and brayed, it made Ty think of a tractor transmission grinding to a halt in the middle of a field. That he still remembered the death-knell sound from his days as a farmhand was actually amusing, and he couldn’t help chuckling. Some things stayed with you, he supposed, no matter how far away you’ve drifted from your roots.

Pulling into the circular turnaround near the house, he parked next to Morgan’s car and winced as he slid to the ground. The back that had once been his strongest asset wasn’t what it used to be, but bearing in mind what it had gone through, his doctors had told him that he was fortunate to be upright. Injuries like his weren’t just career enders—they often turned out to be fatal. For some reason, he’d been spared that horrific fate, and whatever the future held for him, he was determined to meet it standing on his own two feet.

Like him, the Whittaker farmhouse had seen better days. Built of sturdy Montana pine, the framework looked as solid as ever, but the clapboards and roof were in need of some TLC. When the dog sprawled out near the front door caught sight of Ty, she jumped to her feet and trotted down to greet him much the way Sadie had.

“Hey there, Skye,” he said, ignoring the protest in his back as he hunkered down to pet the speckled Aussie. “How’ve you been?”

She answered him with a short yip, turning her head to lick his palm in an obvious bid for more attention. When Morgan paused beside them, he looked up to find her staring down at him, arms folded in a gesture he couldn’t quite read. When she didn’t say anything, he figured it was up to him.

“It’s nice to see some friendly faces,” he commented, carefully unwinding to stand up. She didn’t respond, and he decided to try some humor. “Even if they are furry and standing on four feet.”

A hint of the wry grin he recalled teased the corner of her mouth, and when she removed her sunglasses, he saw a glimmer of appreciation in those incredible blue eyes. Her waterfall of blond hair was tamed back into a ponytail that fell down her back beneath her straw cowgirl hat, but a few of the curls he’d always admired had escaped to frame her tanned face in a cloud of gold.

On the day he met her in first grade, he’d believed Morgan Jo Whittaker was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. In all the years he’d been on the rodeo tour, he’d met dozens of women, but he’d never come across one who even came close to changing that opinion.

Morgan was one of a kind, he thought for the millionth time. Beautiful, smart as a whip, with a sassy personality that both frustrated and fascinated him. And he’d walked away from her. What an idiot.

Now she was looking up at him, wearing a curious expression that made him feel like a bug squirming on a slide under a microscope. Trying to appear calm, he endured the scrutiny in silence, hoping it wouldn’t last too much longer.

It didn’t. “What are you really doing here, Ty?”

“I told you in town. It was time for a visit.”

She took one step closer and stopped, those intelligent eyes boring into his with an intensity he’d rather not experience again. “You used to be a better liar.”

That was true enough, and he couldn’t keep back a chuckle. “Not enough reason to do it anymore, I guess. You want the truth?”

“It’d be a nice change of pace.”

Stepping onto the porch, he motioned her to one of the handmade rocking chairs. When they were both seated, Skye plopped down on a braided rug between them, and for a single insane moment, Ty got a picture of how their life might have been if he hadn’t messed everything up.

Behind them, a burly shadow appeared in the screen door, and Ty pushed himself to his feet. “Afternoon, JD.”

With a “hmpf” that gave nothing away, the owner of Whittaker Ranch came through the door, letting it fall closed behind him with a sharp crack. His battered boots thumped ominously on the old floorboards, and Ty got the feeling of standing in front of an old-time sheriff, waiting for some kind of judgment on his character.

Sliding a quick glance at his daughter, JD leveled a cool glare at Ty. “I oughta run you offa this place at the end of a Smith & Wesson for what you did to my girl.”

“I’m very sorry for everything that happened,” Ty began, trying to keep his voice steady. He respected JD for many reasons, feared him for others. Right now, he was just trying to hold his ground and remember that he was nearly thirty years old and not the dumb kid he’d once been.

“Did you apologize to my Morgan?”

Ty loved the way he said it, as if she was a little girl still in need of her daddy’s protection. Someday, if he was ever fortunate enough to have a family of his own, he’d be as fiercely protective of them as JD was of his.

“Yes, sir, I did.” Looking over at her, he added, “I’m hoping she’ll find a way to forgive me someday.”

The lady in question didn’t say anything, but she wasn’t glaring at him anymore, either. He took that as a positive sign.

Apparently, JD had noticed the same thing, because the old wrangler chortled. “I don’t see any fresh holes in your hide, so you must’ve done all right. Are ya thirsty?”

“Parched. I left Denver around six this morning and didn’t stop till I got here.”

“Long drive.” After a quick trip inside, JD came back with three glasses of lemonade. He handed them out, then settled onto the porch swing and crossed his boots on the porch floor in front of him. “So, what’ve you been up to?”

Ty nutshelled the past couple of years for his host, skimming over the worst of it to avoid a lot of questions he’d rather not answer just yet. Throughout the conversation, Morgan was unusually quiet, and he kept casually glancing her way to gauge her reaction to what he and JD were saying. Mostly, her face was maddeningly unreadable, and he found himself back in high school, wondering what was running through that quick mind of hers.

She’d always had a great poker face, and it seemed that she’d improved it over the years. Why she’d felt the need to do that, he couldn’t imagine. While it wasn’t any of his business, he couldn’t help wondering what had caused her to cultivate such a close-to-the-vest attitude.

Suddenly, Skye bounced to her feet and darted off the porch to begin an easy herding lope up the long driveway toward the road. When a yellow school bus appeared in the distance, Ty chuckled. “Her hearing’s better than mine. I never heard it till just now.”

“I’m convinced that dog can tell time,” JD announced confidently. “No matter what the school schedule is, she always seems to know when the girls are coming home.”

“Girls?”

“My girls,” Morgan explained, emphasizing the word my for some reason.

“I didn’t know you were a mom, too. Is there anything around here you can’t do?” Ty said, hoping to soothe her ruffled feathers with a little well-placed admiration. It wasn’t all that hard, he mused. She was still the same remarkable woman she’d always been. There wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t kick himself for leaving her behind.

“Not so far,” she replied, arching an eyebrow in the haughty expression he recalled vividly. He’d been the target of that look far too many times to count, and it was burned into his memory forever.

The girls in question took their time walking up the driveway, with Skye flitting from one to the other in typical Aussie excitement. Ty got the impression that she was herding them toward the house, and he smiled at the picture. Country girls under a big, beautiful sky. Life didn’t get much better than that.

As they drew closer to the house, he noticed something about them that made him stare over at their mother in surprise. “They’re twins.”

Morgan didn’t respond, but JD proudly chimed in, “Allie and Hannah. Every bit their mama’s girls, that’s for sure. Hannah’s sharp as a tack, and Allie’s got a real way with critters, big and small. That’s how we ended up with Teddy.”

“Teddy?”

“The alpaca,” JD clarified, nodding toward the odd animal Ty had noticed on his way in. “A friend of hers had to move away, and the family couldn’t take livestock to their new neighborhood. Allie begged us to take him in, and—”

He ended with a shrug, and Ty laughed. “You couldn’t tell her no. Why does that sound familiar?”

“Hey, now, that’s not fair. He told me no plenty of times,” Morgan protested.

“I was talking about your little sister, Jessie,” Ty clarified, taking a drink of his lemonade to sell the comment to her. That got him the raised eyebrow again, and he couldn’t keep back a grin. To his relief, the look mellowed slightly, and while she didn’t exactly smile back, at least she wasn’t glaring at him anymore.

When they saw who was sitting on the porch, the girls broke into a run, although one of them lagged behind by a few steps. As she got closer, Ty could see that she was doing her best to keep up with her faster twin but couldn’t quite manage it. In response, Skye slowed her pace and circled around the girl, as if encouraging her to keep going. Something about that twanged his heart deep inside, in a way he’d never felt before.

Shoving away the baffling reaction to someone else’s child, he waited for JD to make the introductions.

“Girls, this is Ty Wilkins, an old friend of ours who’s back for a visit. Ty, this is Hannah—” he pulled one of them close “—and Allie.” With her, JD paused a moment to let the comment sink in before smiling at her. After a couple of seconds, she answered with a faint smile before moving past him to where Morgan was sitting.

Ty didn’t have much experience with kids, but he knew a shy girl when he saw one. Standing, he took off his hat the way he’d been taught and smiled at each of them in turn. “Ladies, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Hannah thrust a hand at him, shaking his with a firm confidence that reminded him of her bold mother. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Wow, that was a kick in the teeth, he mused. Made him sound ancient. Then again, to her he probably was. Allie didn’t venture out to follow her sister’s lead, and he settled for another smile in her direction. “Your grandpa’s been telling me about how you ended up with an alpaca named Teddy. It was real generous of you to give him such a good home.”

“He’s a good boy,” she allowed in a voice so quiet, he had to strain to hear it. After that, she patted Morgan’s cheek and drifted into the house without another word.

Obviously, there was something different about her, but he’d never dream of asking what it might be. Fortunately, her twin filled in the blank for him. “Allie has a-tism, so she’s shy around people. It was nice of you to talk about Teddy, ’cause she really likes him.”

Following that very straightforward explanation, she skipped inside, Skye right on her heels.

The revelation hung in the air, creating an awkward silence that Ty had no clue how to fill. Morgan looked especially uncomfortable, and JD reached over to grasp her hand in a reassuring gesture. “Both our girls are special. That’s what we focus on, right, honey?”

“Right.” She made a valiant attempt at a smile that fell woefully short. Standing, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on things inside, then unload that feed I bought in town. Hope you enjoy your visit, Ty.”

He suspected that she didn’t come close to meaning that, but as she disappeared inside, he couldn’t really blame her for not welcoming him with open arms. She’d told him she’d never forgive him, and he believed her.

“Well, I’d best get over to my place and see how bad that old cabin looks,” he said, putting his hat back on before extending his hand to his neighbor. “Thanks for the talk and the lemonade. I enjoyed ’em both, just like always.”

That leathery hand held on to his for an extra pump before letting go. Then JD gave him a sage look, as if he knew what Ty was keeping from them all. “You’re welcome here anytime, son. Starting over ain’t easy, but it might go better if you get a little help once in a while.”

“What makes you think I’m starting over?”

“I was born during the day,” the old rancher told him with a chuckle, “but not yesterday.”

Grinning, Ty strolled out to his truck feeling a lot more chipper than he had just a couple of hours ago. As he drove out and headed for his place on the other side of the Whittakers’ east pasture, something about Morgan’s twins was nagging at him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about them that felt familiar to him.

They were both the spitting image of their mother, he reasoned. That must be it. But even as he tried out that explanation in his head, it didn’t sit right with him. Then, because he couldn’t think of anything else, he put it out of his mind. As JD had noted, starting over wouldn’t be easy, but he had a lot of years left, and he had to come up with a productive way to spend them. What that might be, he couldn’t say, because the only skills he’d ever had any interest in learning were useless outside the rodeo arena.

Beyond that, the modest Cape-Cod-style cabin he’d referred to hadn’t been lived in since his parents had moved away five years ago. No doubt, there was enough work to do there to keep him well occupied and prevent him from thinking too much about the still amazing—and still maddening—Morgan Whittaker.

Chapter Two

“What on earth is Ty Wilkins doing here?” Morgan’s little sister, Jessie, demanded in an outraged whisper.

“Visiting with Dad,” Morgan replied evenly, keeping her voice down to avoid alerting her daughters that there was something amiss. She focused on the apple juice she was pouring, then reached into the cookie jar for some fresh molasses crinkles.

“And?”

Morgan ignored the question and set the snack on the scarred oak table that dominated the large country kitchen. “Girls, why don’t you take your snack into Grandpa’s den and watch TV? When you’re done eating, take a whack at your homework. I’ve got some chores to finish up, but if you get stuck, I’ll help you after dinner.”

“I got my work done at school, Mommy,” Hannah replied as she picked up the plate and one of the glasses. Turning to her sister, she added, “I can help you with yours, if you want.”

Morgan’s heart swelled with pride at the selfless offer. Hannah was so patient with her twin, helping but never coddling, always asking permission rather than shoving in to do things for her. It wasn’t easy parenting a child with such a profound challenge, but Hannah’s fabulous attitude made it easier for Morgan.

“That’s very sweet of you, honey,” she approved, giving her a quick hug.

“Sweet,” Allie echoed, lightly patting her sister’s cheek, a faint, absent smile passing over her features as she turned away. Their interactions were often like that, but it was more than Allie could manage with most people. The doctors told Morgan the passing touches were a good sign that she was starting to overcome her inherent timidity and making progress into a more normal mode of interacting with others. Every day, usually more than once, Morgan prayed that they were right.

Once the girls were gone, Jessie dropped on her like a hawk. “How can Dad sit out there, chatting with Ty like nothing’s ever gone wrong between you two?”

Truth be told, Morgan was just as baffled by his reaction to their old neighbor as her sister was. “It was a long time ago, and Dad always liked Ty. I guess he figures it’s best to let bygones be bygones.”

She didn’t add the detail that Ty had apologized to her in town earlier. She wasn’t sure why, but she wasn’t quite ready to share that information just yet. Maybe she didn’t believe him, or maybe it was the stubborn cowgirl in her, she mused, wanting to prolong his suffering awhile longer. Yeah, that was it.

“Well, I can hardly stand to look at him,” Jessie announced, angling her head for a peek out the front window that looked onto the corner of the porch where Ty was sitting. Her gaze lingered there for several moments, and Morgan laughed.

“Right. There’s not a woman alive who can resist that arrogant piece of work.” She was living proof of that, she added silently.

“Handsome on the outside doesn’t mean much when you’ve got a mean heart.”

It was so simple for her, Morgan thought while she opened the closet in the back hall and pulled her leather barn gloves from the organizer. When you were twenty-four like Jessie, the world was still painted in black and white, and things were either right or wrong. When you got older, those extra years taught you that there was a lot of gray out there.

“Anyway, I’ve got work to do outside. If you’re leaving before I get back, have a good night.”

“I’m doing laundry, so I’ll be here awhile. Dinner will be in the oven keeping warm, just like always,” Jessie said, as if she hadn’t heard a word Morgan had said. “If you’re out past seven, Dad and I will get the girls ready for bed and you can tuck them in when you come back.”

Stopping by the back door, Morgan looked back and smiled. “Thanks, Jess. I don’t know how I’d manage all this without you.”

“Like Wonder Woman, of course.” Her delighted expression made it clear that she appreciated the praise, and she blew Morgan a kiss before picking up one of her overstuffed laundry bags and heading down into the basement.

On the back porch, Morgan heard the sound of a truck’s engine starting and glanced over to see Ty driving toward the road. Encountering him again had been more of a shock than she’d like to admit, but she forced her mind away from that prickly topic as she climbed into her 4x4 and went in the other direction. The front stock barn was her destination, and once she got there, a solid hour of unloading supplies and mucking stalls gave her a chance to settle her nerves and forget she’d seen the wayward rodeo star.

Almost.

Good-looking as ever, he still had the same quick smile that had gotten her attention when he was the new kid in class. A simple trick of the alphabet seated him behind her, and she’d endured chair kicking, braid pulling and outright aggravation for two weeks until she’d finally had enough and slugged him on the playground.

The incident had landed her in the principal’s office, but it had earned her Ty’s respect. From then on, she and their neighbor’s youngest son had been thick as thieves. Sweethearts from high school to the rodeo circuit, they’d seemed on the road to a lifetime of good-natured arguments and the kind of love she’d always longed for.

And then, something happened. She still wasn’t sure what had driven him to run away, and after many sleepless nights, she’d accepted the fact that she might never know. Well, mostly.

That thought had just floated through her mind when she heard the sound of spitting gravel outside, followed by the slamming of a vehicle’s door. Glancing out, she saw the object of her musings stalking toward her, looking fit to be tied.

“Something you wanna tell me, MJ?”

She hadn’t heard the shorthand version of her full name in so long, it caught her by surprise. Recovering a bit, she narrowed her eyes and glared back at him. “I thought goodbye pretty much covered it.”

“They’re mine, aren’t they?”

Morgan’s heart stopped.

Realizing that the pitchfork she held was shaking in her hands, she carefully set it aside to give herself time to think. After drawing in a deep breath to settle her runaway blood pressure, she turned to him and summoned her best blank expression. “What are yours?”

“Allie and Hannah,” he clarified, in a tone that told her in no uncertain terms that he knew she was stalling. “They’re my daughters, aren’t they?”

How could he possibly have figured that out? she wondered in a panic. They looked just like her, so she’d never confessed their father’s identity to anyone. Not even her family.

“No, Ty, they’re my daughters.” Tapping her chest for emphasis, she went on. “They’re Whittakers, end of story.”

Folding his arms, he scowled down at her but didn’t say anything more. Then, in a matter of a few seconds, his demeanor shifted, and he grimaced as if she’d sucker punched him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a quiet voice laced with regret. “I know we weren’t in touch after I left, but you knew enough people who could’ve told you where I was.”

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” she shot back, clinging to her anger like a shield. “And while we’re on it, you walked out on me with no explanation, no forwarding address. Once you pulled that stunt, I didn’t think you were exactly father material.”

He absorbed that in silence, a woeful look settling into an expression she’d never noticed on him in all the years they’d known each other. They’d been through hard stuff together, but he’d always been the lighthearted one, shrugging off things that would have caused a lesser man to stumble. Until the day he took off, she’d always believed that he could handle anything life threw at him without even breaking stride.

Gazing out the door toward the house, he came back to her with the firm jaw she recalled so well. “I would’ve found a way to make it work for us, you know that. You never even gave me a chance.”

She had to acknowledge that he was right, and the twinge of guilt she felt grew more insistent even as she tried to reason it away. “I made the best choice I could at the time.”

“I know you did.” Compassion softened his features, and she braced herself for the question she’d known he’d ask her at some point. “I don’t understand how Hannah’s so bright and Allie has autism. How does that kinda thing happen?”

“It’s not anything I did while I was pregnant,” Morgan informed him sternly, her back going up instantly. She’d told herself that over and over. But the nagging fear that she’d somehow caused her daughter’s condition still haunted her, although she insisted otherwise. “As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I quit riding and came home. I was on bed rest for the last four months, doing absolutely nothing except making sure my babies had the best chance of being born healthy.”

“Of course you did,” he said gently, regret flooding his eyes. “I didn’t mean to suggest you did anything wrong. I’m just wondering how one twin is totally normal and the other is left fighting such a huge challenge.”

Morgan noticed that he didn’t refer to Allie by her disability. It was something they’d all learned to do, because autism was a condition, not an identity. It was a subtle distinction to make, but an important one for the family. That he’d done it instinctively made her feel more inclined to cut him some slack. At least where the girls were concerned, she amended.

“Normal for Allie is different, that’s all. Her abilities are different, too, but she makes the most of them. She’s at the top of all her special classes, and like Dad told you, she has a great touch with animals. Socializing is tough for her, but she has a couple of classmates who she really likes hanging out with. Hannah and her friends are great with all of them, so they have a nice circle of girls together.”

“How have you managed all this?” he asked, motioning around them at their surroundings, “and raising two kids by yourself?”

Admiration softened his eyes, giving her jangling nerves a much-needed boost. “Plenty of help, and a large helping of faith. I accept that God sent Allie to us for a reason, and I just keep doing my best.”

The spark she’d noticed dimmed considerably, and he frowned. “You always had more faith than I did.”

“It’s a good thing, because I’ve needed every ounce of it.”

He took that in with a pensive look. “Does it make things easier?”

“It makes them possible,” she replied, opening up to him in a way she never could have imagined earlier. But part of him was reaching out to her, begging for understanding. Of what, she couldn’t say, but it was tough to resist that plea from someone she’d loved for most of her life.

And then, she heard herself say, “Ty, I know there’s something you’re not telling me. What happened to bring you home this way?”

Frowning, he motioned her to a nearby bale of wood shavings. As he sat beside her, for the first time she noticed that his once-fluid movements had a labored look to them. Resting his hands on the knees of his expertly ripped designer jeans, he took a few moments to collect himself before starting. “Last year at an event in Oregon, I got tossed coming outta the chute. The bull was still fresh and had a good head of steam, and he decided throwing me wasn’t enough. Long story short, he kicked me around that arena like a rag doll, and before the clowns could draw him away, he broke my back.”

And his pride, she added silently. Anyone who’d known him before the accident could see that. “Oh, Ty, that’s awful. He could’ve killed you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted, swallowing hard before going on. “Anyway, I was in the hospital and rehab a long time, and even with my insurance, it got pretty expensive.” Nodding out to the truck, he added, “I’ve had to sell everything except that and Clyde. As of tomorrow, the truck belongs to a guy who lives over in Pine Valley. So it’s just me and Clyde and the five acres I bought from my parents when they sold their place a few years ago.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Not sure,” he admitted soberly. “Preferably something that won’t cripple me.”

Tyler Wilkins had never been renowned for his brains, and physical work was clearly out of the picture for him now. That didn’t leave many options for him around a small town like Mustang Ridge. “Such as?”

“Not sure,” he repeated, adding a wry grin. “Guess I should’ve paid more attention in math class.”

“And science, social studies, English.” She added a few more of his less successful academic subjects through the years, ticking them off on her fingers.

“Yeah, well, you were always the smart one.”

“I never should’ve let you copy off me. You would’ve learned more that way.”

“No, I’d still be in high school, trying to figure out why the guy who invented algebra thought that mixing letters and numbers was a good idea.”

She laughed at that, and when he joined her, it struck her as odd to be sitting here in the barn, sharing a humorous moment with the man she’d once vowed to never speak to again. She hadn’t forgiven him, but she also couldn’t bring herself to keep kicking him when he was so far down he might not claw his way back to what he used to be for a long time. If ever.

“So,” he ventured in a hesitant voice, “does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

She didn’t answer him right away, as if she had to think it over. They were still there on that bale, mutely staring at each other, when her younger brother Ryan appeared in the open doorway at the other end of the barn.

“What’s goin’ on in here?” he demanded, clearly alarmed by what he saw. Hurrying over to stand in front of them, he planted his hands on his hips as he faced Ty in a protective stance. “Whatever you’re doing here, it looks to me like you’re done. It’d be good for you to leave before I forget we used to be friends.”

“I’m not here to make trouble,” Ty explained, his reasonable tone another surprise from the formerly hotheaded cowboy she recalled. “Morgan and I have something to talk about.”

“Not anymore, you don’t. You wanna talk to her, use a phone.” Ryan took another step forward and growled, “Now, get out.”

Ty didn’t protest further, but he did tip his hat to her on his way out. The faint smile he gave her was a pale imitation of the one she’d treasured in the past, and despite the jolt he’d given her, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He’d tumbled a long way down from the peak of his spectacular life, and it seemed that he was in for a long, hard recovery.

Then, in a flash of insight, she understood why her brother had rushed to her defense when he—like everyone else—knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “How much did you hear?”

“More than I think you’d like.” Grimacing, he added, “Then again, I figured it out for myself about ten minutes after you came home to tell Dad you were pregnant.”

That was news to her, and her heart plummeted to the floor. “How? I was eight weeks along, and Ty was long gone. Anyone could’ve been the father.”

“Come on, sis,” he chided, shaking his head. “You might’ve fooled everyone else, but I know you. It was Ty. It was always Ty.”

Yes, it was, she conceded as he strolled off and left her alone in the barn. But for the past seven years, she’d been focused solely on raising her girls and doing everything in her power to keep their legacy ranch in the black. Then the threat of development had pushed her to start the conservancy, which gobbled up most of her precious spare time. By necessity, she’d put aside her past failings and turned all of her effort toward making the future the best it could possibly be for her daughters.

Because, quite honestly, the only other option was to give up. And no matter how long the odds were, a Whittaker never, ever quit.

That thought had just rolled through her head when her cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, so she answered with, “Whittaker Ranch, this is Morgan.”

“Hey there, cowgirl.” A sigh escaped her before she could stop it, and Ty chuckled. “Not who you were expecting, huh?”

“How did you get this number?”

“Found it on the ranch’s website. Nice job with that, by the way.”

“Jessie’s in charge of that stuff, so I’ll pass on the compliment. What do you want?”

“We weren’t exactly done talking when Sheriff Ryan showed up and ran me off,” Ty pointed out, his tone as casual as if they’d been discussing the next livestock auction on the schedule.

“I was.”

Her terse response seemed to catch him off guard, because there was a quiet hum on the line while he absorbed that one. “Well, I wasn’t. I just found out I have two daughters, and I’ve got some more questions.”

“Such as?”

“I’d really rather hash this out in person.”

She’d really rather never see him again, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. They’d have to hammer out some kind of compromise eventually, so she relented. “Fine. When and where?”

“I’ve got stuff going on the next couple days, so I was thinking my place Friday night, after you get the girls tucked in. I’ll be around, so come over whenever it works for you.”

“It doesn’t work for me anytime,” she spat before realizing that he’d already hung up. Thumbing her phone off, she glared at it and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans.

An evening alone with Tyler Wilkins, she mused while she slit open another bale of shavings and began shoveling the contents into a wheelbarrow. There were plenty of women who’d kill to be in her boots right now.

Too bad she wasn’t one of them.

To Ty’s knowledge, there wasn’t a word for how bad the cabin smelled.

His concerns about rodents had turned out to be right, but he hadn’t counted on there being so many corpses scattered around. Opening all the windows had helped a little, but he was going to need some heavy-duty cleaner and a good measure of patience to rid the house of the smell entirely. Fortunately for him, there weren’t any storms in the forecast for the next week, so he should be able to air it out in a few days.

For the past couple of days, he’d been relegated to being outside, cleaning up years’ worth of fallen limbs and rotting leaves. Behind him, he heard a mellow nicker and said, “Not now, Clyde. I know you’re antsy, but I’ve got a ton of stuff to do today. We’ll take a ride tomorrow.”

“How ’bout now?”

Startled by the sound of another voice, Ty whipped around to find Morgan and Sadie trotting up the grassy aisle that separated his property from the Whittaker place. Setting aside his rake, he strolled over to greet them. “And here I thought he was talking to me. Weren’t we meeting up on Friday?”

“I don’t get out as much as I’d like these days, so I was going to ride out and watch the sunset anyway. If you want to come along, we can talk on the way.”

Translation—I don’t want to give you home field advantage. She was the only woman he’d ever known who strategized that way, and it was comforting to know she hadn’t lost that sharp quality over the years.

It was also more than a little intimidating, he mused as he quickly tacked up and hauled himself into the saddle. She’d always been smarter than him, and chances were the gap hadn’t closed up enough to make much difference. He’d do well to remember that.

The horses were old friends, and the two of them traded looks occasionally while they trotted companionably side by side, as if they’d last seen each other earlier that week instead of seven years ago. Morgan seemed content to ride in silence, and Ty followed her lead, taking the opportunity to reacquaint himself with his surroundings.

Wild prairie and barely tamed pastureland stretched out like a quilt of grass and flowers for miles around them. Ringed by thick stands of pines, the broad valley was cut through by the winding currents of the Calico River. Modest in width but dependable even in the driest years, the deep-running mountain stream supplied the local ranches with a reliable source of water for their livestock.

Beyond that rose the majestic Bridger Mountains, which ran along the northern boundaries of Mustang Ridge and several other small towns nearby. Home to everything from mountain lions to grizzlies to bighorn sheep, those ragged peaks were the image that always came into Ty’s head when he thought of home.

As he and Morgan gained altitude, they got an ever-broader perspective of the valley below. When a small herd of horses came into view, he asked, “Where did they come from?”

“Everywhere. A few years ago, the state took an interest in our mustangs and managing the population. I didn’t like their solution, so I stepped in and petitioned to adopt the herd.” Gazing over at the milling animals, her face softened with affection for the creatures she’d managed to save. Pointing, she explained, “Over there is public land available to anyone for open grazing, and the strip with access to the river belongs to a local family. They gave me permission to use it, so I relocated the ponies and started a mustang rescue. I break and train some of them for people who want to use them as pleasure horses, but the others stay here, where they belong.”

Her very practical approach to the problem didn’t surprise him in the least, but he was impressed all the same. “That’s awesome. Not many folks would go to that much trouble for some wild ponies.”

“They’re the symbol of everything the Mustang Ridge Conservancy stands for,” she told him firmly, her jaw set in determination. “If the animals who’ve always lived here lose their birthright, chances are we won’t be far behind.”

When Sadie and Clyde reached the southern bank of the creek, Morgan finally stopped and turned to him. Her eyes held a resigned look that he tried not to take personally.

Letting Sadie drop her head for a drink, Morgan said, “So, you wanted to talk.”

“Can we get down first? My back’s not as limber as it used to be.” Plus, he didn’t want her taking off if she didn’t like something he said. Clyde was a gamer, but there was no way he could catch the half-mustang mare at a full run.

“Fine.”

Swinging down, she led Sadie to a nearby clump of elms and tied her reins to a branch to let her graze. Ty did the same and then joined Morgan on a fallen log near the creek.

When he noticed her pained expression, he asked, “Something wrong?”

“You weren’t exaggerating about your back, were you?”

“Nope. I’ve got a bunch of fused vertebrae and a doctor’s warning to never get on another horse for the rest of my life.”

“But you’re still riding?” Giving him a hard look, she shook her head. “That’s crazy.”

“Maybe, but Clyde’s as safe as one of those carousel horses kids ride on at the fair. Besides, life’s too short to be afraid of things that might happen. When you’ve had the misfortunes I have, you learn to appreciate what’s left.”

That got him a nod, which he took as a tacit sign of acceptance, if not understanding. They sat for a while, trading small talk while they admired the gradually sinking sun as it began its nightly descent over the mountains. He recognized that she had children to get home to, and he moved on to the subject he’d insisted they discuss.

“Morgan.” When he had her attention, he summoned his courage and forged ahead. “I want to help out with Allie and Hannah. You’ve carried all the weight for long enough, and I’m ready to take on my share.”

That got him a derisive snort. “I doubt it.”

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a folded paper and handed it to her. “I’m serious. Maybe this’ll convince you I mean what I’m saying.”

She carefully took the certified check from him as if it was a rattlesnake coiled to strike and opened it with a wary expression. When she saw the amount, her mouth fell into a shocked O, and those gorgeous blue eyes met his in astonishment. “This is a lot of money.”

“Delivered my truck to the new owner the other day,” he explained, feeling proud of himself for the first time in ages. “I found a used one cheaper than I expected, so the rest is for you and the girls. I talked to a lawyer buddy of mine and found out that six years of child support for two kids adds up to a lot. This is a down payment. Once I get myself sorted out, he’ll help us come up with a permanent arrangement so you won’t have to worry about money anymore.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, clearly stunned by the offer. “I never would’ve expected this, Ty. It’s very generous of you.”

It was, which was what he’d been counting on when he devised a plan for approaching this very independent woman about their daughters. Having offered his help, he now moved on to what he considered to be the more important element of his proposal.

“It’s my responsibility, as their father,” he ventured cautiously, watching her for any sign of disagreement. When she didn’t show one, he decided it was safe for him to continue. “It’s also my responsibility to be a part of their lives. If they want me there.”

“So this is a bribe?” she demanded, jamming the check into his chest with enough force to nearly knock him off the log. Shoving away from him, she jumped to her feet and scowled down at him. “Keep your money and your fake concern, Tyler Wilkins. My daughters and I have done just fine without you all these years, and we’ll keep going that way long after you’re gone.”

This woman could still spike his temper into boiling range with a single look, but he summoned a calm tone as he got to his feet and matched her frosty look with one of his own. “I’m not going anywhere, MJ. First off, I’ve got nowhere else to go. And second—and more important—I intend to stick around so my daughters and I can get to know each other. I’ve missed the first six years of their lives, and I’m not gonna miss any more.”

With that, he wheeled around and mounted Clyde as gracefully as he could. Reaching over, he tucked the check under the corner of Sadie’s saddle blanket and headed toward home without a look back.

Let her stew over that one, he thought with a grin as he rode away. She wasn’t the only one with a stubborn streak.

Chapter Three

“Now, remember, Morgan,” Dad cautioned her as he pulled into the parking lot at the high school. “This is our first meeting with this energy company rep, and it’s bound to be a little nutsy. This is an important issue for everyone around here, not just us. You’re gonna have to be patient with folks when they’re trying to talk.”

Morgan gave him the irritated look she reserved for people who had the gall to tell her how she was supposed to behave. “I know that, Dad. Please don’t speak to me like I’m ten years old.”

“You’re real passionate about this, and I love that about you. But let’s be honest—you’ve got a knack for taking over a situation, convinced you’ve got the answer to the problem. This is bigger than one or two families, and it’s gonna take all of us to hammer out a solution everyone can live with.”

“You know some of our neighbors are on the verge of selling out to that greedy shark, right?” He nodded, and she turned to face him squarely. “If they accept his offer, we might as well do the same thing, because in a couple years the Calico River will be liquid poison and our place will be downstream from an industrial complex that’ll be churning out pollutants and noise twenty-four/seven.”

“We’re not gonna let that happen,” he assured her, patting her shoulder in a calming gesture. “But we won’t get anywhere by pressuring folks into seeing things our way. They’ve gotta come to the right decision on their own.”

“I just can’t believe anyone who’s got half a brain would want to ruin all that,” she grumbled, staring out the dusty windshield of his truck at the expanse of the oddly named Crazy Mountains to the north. “That’s some of God’s best handiwork out there, and it’s up to us to keep it that way.”

“Preaching to the choir.”

“I know. I’m just more frustrated than usual, I guess.” She blew out an exasperated breath to cool her temper. It helped, but not enough. She recognized that was because she now had a new problem to contend with—namely Ty Wilkins—and she didn’t know what she was going to do about it.

Heaving a sigh of his own, Dad got out and circled the old SUV to open her door for her the way he’d done since she was a child. “Stick with comments about God’s handiwork in there, and you’ll get a lot further than if you get into a shouting match with people who’re on the fence about land development.”

“Okay,” she agreed grudgingly. “You make a good point.”

“Flies and honey, sweetheart.”

Diplomacy wasn’t exactly her strong point, Morgan groused silently as they went up the wide front steps into the school. But the Mustang Ridge Conservancy was fighting for the very existence that generations of Whittakers had worked so hard to create. She wanted Allie and Hannah to grow up surrounded by the same view she’d loved from the time she could appreciate it. If the only way to make that happen was muting her characteristic drive, she’d just have to figure out a way to do it.

Inside, the auditorium was packed. Up on the stage that normally hosted student concerts and plays, there was a long table and several chairs. A man she didn’t recognize was talking with Kevin Carmichael, the town’s only dentist and their newly elected mayor. He was the developer everyone had been buzzing about the past few weeks, judging by his tailored suit and polished appearance.

Her father had artfully intercepted the man when he visited their ranch, respectfully hearing him out before sending him on his way. Mostly because he knew perfectly well that if the stranger had found Morgan first, she would have blown a gasket before throwing him off the property. Her beloved mustangs had nowhere else to go, and if the Whittakers lost their right to use the open rangeland where the wild ponies roamed, they’d be rounded up and sent to some random place where she wouldn’t be able to help them. The only way to save them was to get that land legally protected as wilderness forever. It was a tall order, even for a woman who’d never run from a challenge in her life.

“Hey, Morgan.” Hearing her name, she turned to find Dave Farley sitting behind her. “Any of those mustang yearlings ready to go yet?”

“A couple. What are you looking for?”

“An Appaloosa. A friend of mine in Billings just lost her mare after twenty-plus years and is looking for a youngster to take in. I told her about your rescue outfit, and she’s interested in meeting you.”

Finally, some good news, Morgan thought, smiling as she fished a card out of her purse. “Tell her she can call me anytime. I’ve got an App who should be green broke sometime this summer, if that works for her. If she sends me her info, I’ll take some pics and email them to her. He’s gorgeous, and the vet says he should top out around fifteen hands.”

“That’s tall for a wild one.”

“His daddy’s a big, strapping stallion,” she explained, feeling a jolt of pride that her small herd of wild horses and rescues was doing so well. “I’ll send your friend some photos of the sire and dam, too.”

“Thanks. I’ll let her know.”

He sat back, then stood and grinned at someone behind Morgan. “Hey, Ty,” he greeted their prodigal cowboy, offering his hand. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks, Dave. It’s good to see you. How’re Bonnie and the boys?”

“Good, busy. They’re both playing baseball this year, so she’s at their game tonight.” The proud father held up his phone. “She’s keeping me updated by text.”

“Great idea. Tell her I said hi.”

“Will do.”

Dave sat and started typing on his phone while Ty looked down at Morgan. “Mind if I take this seat?”

She shrugged. “It’s a free country.”

The moron actually had the audacity to grin at that, and once he was settled, he leaned in to say, “I’m not the enemy, MJ.”

“Y’know,” she shot back, her already unsettled nerves tightening like the overstretched strings of a fiddle. “No one calls me that anymore.”

“Yeah?” The grin widened, and he draped a muscled forearm over the back of his chair. “Then I guess that makes me special.”

Dad chuckled beside her, and she angled a look at him. “You think that’s funny?”

“Yup. You two are as entertaining as ever.”

“I’m so glad you’re amused by your daughter being harassed.”

“How’s Clyde settling into your new place?” he asked, pointedly looking over her head at Ty.

“Fine. He’s used to moving around, so being in a new barn doesn’t bother him a bit. The house, well, that’s a different story.”

Dad chuckled again. “Oily rags and a match might be your best option.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two of them carried on that way, talking over the top of her as if she wasn’t even there, until Kevin called the meeting to order.

“Okay, folks, let’s all take our seats.” Once everyone was settled, he gripped the lectern in both hands as if he was preparing for a long, difficult night. “Since we all know why we’re here tonight, I’d like to turn the stage over to Mr. Reynolds, a representative of Cartwright Energy. They’re the outfit from Utah that’s interested in prospecting for oil and natural gas on the wild lands north of town, and he’s here to make a presentation about their proposal. After that, he’ll answer any questions you might have about their operation.”

Morgan had read the prospectus cover to cover—three times—so she knew what it contained. After several hours of discouraging research, she had a pretty good idea what they were up against. While she half listened to the slick performance unfolding up on stage, she kept a roving eye on the assembly to gauge their neighbors’ reactions to what they were hearing. Some looked intrigued, others were obviously fuming, but most seemed to be neutral.

At least for now.

Those who hadn’t yet made up their minds were the ones who gave her hope that their efforts to protect the ridge from development might actually have a chance at succeeding. When the man was finished, several people asked the usual questions about land values and potential for damaging the local environment. All of them were deftly handled by their guest, who clearly had a lot of practice dealing with local residents’ apprehension about his company’s activities.

When the comments dwindled into silence, Kevin stood to take his place at the lectern. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Reynolds. I’m sure we’ll be talking to each other again real soon.”

Their polite handshake was punctuated by equally polite applause, and the executive gathered up his materials and his designer briefcase and strolled out. His confident gait suggested to Morgan that he thought the presentation had gone well.

“He thinks we’re a bunch of uneducated hicks,” Ty muttered in unbridled disgust. “Just ’cause you’ve got graphs and stuff on a fancy laptop don’t mean that what you’re planning to do is okay. Anyone with half a brain can see that what they’re proposing is gonna destroy everything within thirty miles of that installation.”

Stunned by his quick—and very accurate—assessment, she stared at him in disbelief. “You really think that?”

“I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I know a song and dance when I see one. The front office executives sent this guy to pull the wool over our eyes, but I got news for him. We ain’t sheep.”

“All right, folks,” the mayor announced, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “What do we think?”

That was a mistake, Morgan thought wryly, as the general hum of comments escalated into a chaotic mess. After waiting a couple of minutes for the hubbub to die down, Kevin apparently decided it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Pleading for cooperation, he managed to regain control of the restless crowd and plucked his microphone from its stand. Handing it off to the town clerk, he said, “Polly, take this around to people who’ve got something to say. That way, we can all hear what’s going on for ourselves.”

“My place isn’t big, but it’s up near the ridge,” one elderly man said, “and they’re offering us triple what it was assessed for last fall. My wife and I are barely scraping by on our fixed income, and we can’t hardly afford the taxes anymore. We’ve got no choice but to sell.”

Unable to sit still any longer, Morgan jumped to her feet. “Anyone who’s got land to sell, the Mustang Ridge Conservancy is interested in buying. We don’t have the kind of money Cartwright does, but we’ll work with you to find an arrangement that suits all of us. We can’t just let them stroll through here and destroy anything that’s in the way of profits that may or may not be buried under our land.”

Her offer got everyone buzzing again, and Kevin had a tough time getting the meeting back under control. Several people voiced their support of the conservancy, while others scoffed at it as a waste of time and effort.

“Standing in the way of progress is pointless,” one woman insisted. “If it doesn’t happen now, sometime in the future it will.”

“Not while I’m around and still breathing,” Dad assured her in his booming, listen-to-me voice as he got to his feet beside Morgan. “My family dug our homestead outta the dirt with their bare hands back in 1882, and we’ve got no intention of letting it go now. Or ever.”

Many sitting around them voiced their agreement, and the public debate got sidetracked into a multitude of conversations between friends and neighbors over what to do and the best way to go about getting it done.

In the middle of it all, Ty leaned in close and said, “Way to go, cowgirl.”

When she looked at him, he grinned and gave her the same wink he’d used when they were kids planning some kind of mischief. And for the first time since he’d so unexpectedly strolled back into her life, she felt herself wanting to smile back. But that would only encourage him, so she stemmed the impulse and returned her attention to the meeting. There was the expected back-and-forth, and at the end the only thing that had changed was that they were all an hour older.

She was by nature a decisive person, so the hemming and hawing grated on her nerves. Her father, on the other hand, seemed to take it all in stride, even hanging back to chat with people when the official gathering had been called to a close. Long past the end of her patience already, she opted to scoot out a side door and wait for him outside.

To her annoyance, Ty trailed after her. He didn’t say anything, but just having him next to her was both a distraction and an annoyance. He’d picked up a new cologne, she noticed even though she was supposed to be beyond registering that kind of thing about the man she’d come to think of as the runaway cowboy. The scent had a campfire, leathery quality to it, and she grudgingly admitted that it suited him well.

But there was no way she was telling him that. Instead, she folded her arms and scowled up at him. “What do you want?”

He grinned back, and she braced herself for what was coming next. In a million years, she never could have predicted what she heard.

“Y’know, I always did admire your spunk.” Leaning back against the tree behind him, he went on. “I also admire the way you have with animals. Instinctive, like you know what they’re thinking. Whether it’s training a new horse or herding calves, you’re always a step or two ahead of ’em so you can head ’em off before they get into trouble.”

“That’s all well and good, but what does any of that have to do with the meeting?”

“And then there’s that laser focus of yours,” he added with a chuckle. “The thing is, when your eyes are on the prize, sometimes you miss things that are fanned out to the sides.”

“Such as?”

In answer, he pulled out his phone and scrolled down the contact list to the name he thought might interest her. He handed it over, and when she took in the name, her eyes widened as they met his. “You know Congressman Barlowe?”

“Turns out Craig’s a big rodeo fan. We’ve had dinner a few times, and he strikes me as a good guy who really cares about protecting Montana’s natural treasures. I think the conservancy would be something he’d want to know about.”

“I’ve written a dozen letters to him,” Morgan confided in a dejected tone very unlike the feisty cowgirl he used to know. “I always get a form response that basically says he’s a busy man with a lot to do, so we’ll have to get in line behind everyone else.”

“How many folks are in the group so far?” She hesitated, and he said, “Let me guess. You and JD.”

“And some others.” He gave her a nudging look, and she relented with a sigh. “Okay, there’s six of us so far. This energy company’s only been here a couple times, and most people don’t see any harm in them hand-drilling for soil and core samples. The trouble is, if they find something, the bulldozers and excavators will be here within a few weeks. Once they have permits and geological surveys that tell them where to start prospecting, it might be too late for us to stop them.”

Still the smartest kid in the room, he thought. “Sounds like you’ve done your homework.”

“You have no idea. This kind of thing goes on all the time, and in places where the residents don’t have the will or organization to put up some resistance, the big energy companies get what they want. I know the country needs to find more sources of oil and natural gas, but there must be better ways to do it.”

“I don’t doubt that, but it’ll take some really smart folks working together to make that happen.”

“That’s what the conservancy is all about. We just need more members.” After a pause, she frowned. “A lot more.”

He hated seeing her so dejected. He much preferred the in-your-face attitude she’d had earlier, even if it made him a target every once in a while. Fortunately, he held the key to lifting her spirits this time, and it felt great.

“You also need a bigwig who can help bring the right kind of attention to your cause.” Ty rocked his phone side to side. “Wanna meet your congressman?”

“Yes,” she replied without even a hint of trepidation. “You convince him to visit Mustang Ridge, and I’ll take it from there.”

He almost agreed, then realized there was a golden opportunity for him in this. It might be his only chance to mend fences with her, and he couldn’t let it slip by without at least giving it a shot. “Not so fast. Craig and I are friends, and he’ll be staying at my place while he’s here. I’m not just gonna make introductions and step away. I wanna be involved in the conservancy and what it’s trying to do.”

Those gorgeous blue eyes narrowed into glittering slits. “Why? You never cared about stuff like that before.”

“I do now. I want our daughters to grow up the way we did, in a wild place with plenty of fresh air and open space. Not choking on the pollution from a bunch o’ gas and oil rigs.”

He knew she wouldn’t accept his help on its own merit alone, but reminding her of one of her own reasons for doing this might persuade her to take him on despite their rocky history.

The front doors banged open, and several people flooded out, still arguing about what to do. JD was among them, and he detoured away from the group to join Morgan and Ty.

“Ready to go?” he asked his daughter.

Clearly thinking about what Ty had said, she hesitated and then nodded. “Yeah.” Connecting with Ty again, she gave him a wry grin that told him she wasn’t thrilled with his proposal but recognized that it made sense. “So, call your politician buddy and set up a visit. You and I can take him around and show him how beautiful this area is and let him see for himself why it’s worth saving.”

Thrilled with her approval of his plan—however reluctant it might be—he barely held back a triumphant whoop. Instead, he grinned and nodded. “Will do.”

“And you can stop being all grown-up,” she teased, the grin shifting to a slightly warmer version. “I know you’re dying to go all yee-hah on me.”

“Well, now, that’d be immature. I’ll wait till I’m in my truck.”

That got him a short laugh, and she walked away with JD, shaking her head. Ty watched her go, and for the first time in months, he felt as if things might finally be shifting to go his way.

What she’d given him wasn’t exactly the I forgive you that he was hoping for. But it was a start.

Chapter Four

“That drawing of Teddy looks great, Allie,” Morgan approved, patting her budding nature artist lightly on the shoulder. Her daughter still wasn’t fond of too much physical contact, but with the family exercising a lot of patience and gentle persistence, she was getting better at accepting it from people she knew well. Morgan hated forcing the gestures on her, but the occupational therapist had assured them that tolerating some tactile interaction was an important part of Allie learning how to function in the world outside her own home. And since the goal was to encourage her to be as independent as possible, they all kept doing it.

“Thank you,” her shy girl replied, adding a rare smile. “I think he had fun.”

As rewarding as the smile had been, her two-stage response made Morgan’s heart swell with pride. Bolstered by a fabulous teaching team in her special-needs classroom and plenty of good, old-fashioned prayer, Allie had come so far in the past year. While Morgan knew there was a lifetime of challenges ahead for her beautiful daughter, moments like this one gave her hope for the future.

And then, Allie surprised her again. Looking across the table at her twin, she said, “Hannah helped me with math. I get it now.”

Glancing up from her workbook, Hannah beamed. “That’s really nice, but you did the hard part. You’re way better at numbers than you think you are.”

Allie didn’t respond to that, but a faint dimple showed in her cheek as she fished around in the multicolored box of artist’s pencils and crayons Jessie had given her last Christmas. Morgan wanted to crush them both in a grateful Mom hug but out of respect for Allie, she settled for dropping a quick kiss on top of each curly ponytail. “When you girls are done, go up and brush your teeth and get into your jammies. Then we’ll cuddle in my room and watch your princess spy show until bedtime. Okay?”

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