Montana Secrets

Ryan laced his fingers behind his head and gazed into the darkness as if remembering. “She only took in the toughest cases, the boys and girls on the verge of ruining their lives forever.”

“She must have been a very strong person.”

Ryan grinned. “That’s the irony. She was a small, almost birdlike woman that a puff of wind could have blown away.”

Cat frowned. “Then how did she handle such tough kids?”

“She loved us and believed in us with her whole heart. Most of us would rather have died than disappoint her. I lived with her for the next six years, until I went away to college—on scholarship, thanks to her.”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman. I guess you could consider her your family.”

Ryan sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice was heavy with sadness. “If she were still alive. She died of cancer the year before I graduated. I always wished she could have seen how I turned out. More than anything, I wanted Margaret Sweeney to be proud of me.”

“I have a feeling she knows what you’ve done,” Cat said softly, “and she is proud.”

Ryan draped his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer. “You’re a good listener. How come I’ve never noticed that before?”

“You’ve never really talked to me like this before.” Cat’s breath caught in her throat as he dipped his head toward hers, and she closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss.

“There you are, Catherine Erickson,” a coarse, slurring voice called. “I been looking all over for you.”

Startled, Cat opened her eyes. Ryan withdrew his arm and glanced at the tall figure gazing down at them. The long neck of an empty beer bottle dangled between his meaty fingers. Her heart sank when she recognized Snake Larson, an old classmate of Marc’s who had graduated from class bully to town menace. Tall, muscle-bound, with no neck, beady eyes and a constantly flickering tongue that had earned him his nickname, Snake was trouble personified.

“Why were you looking for me?” Cat asked, unable to keep the irritation from her voice.

“I was watching you inside,” Snake said with a leer that was evident even in the darkness. “For a skinny kid, you filled out good. Come back and dance with me.”

“I’ve had enough dancing, thank you.” Cat hoped he’d take the hint and leave.

“Not until you’ve danced with me.”

“She said no.” Ryan’s voice was soft but deadly. Only a fool or a drunk would have missed the threat in his tone.

Snake was both.

“Oh, yeah?” Snake said with a snarl. “We’ll see about that.” He lunged toward Cat.

With a move so rapid, if she’d blinked she’d have missed it, Ryan sprang off the bench and twisted Snake’s arm behind his back, effectively immobilizing him.

The bully winced in pain. “Lemme go and I’ll beat your ass.”

“You’re drunk.” Ryan released the big man and pushed him away. “Go home and sleep it off.”

“Nobody tells me what to do.” With a fierce swing, Snake shattered the beer bottle against the nearest tree and retained the jagged top as a weapon.

Cat stifled a scream and jumped to her feet. Her first instinct was to run for help, but Snake Larson stood between her and the town hall.

“Don’t worry, Cat.” Ryan’s voice was calm. “Stay out of the way. I’ll take care of this.”

Cat’s heart caught in her throat. Ryan was tall, but Snake towered several inches above him and outweighed him by almost a hundred pounds. From all accounts Cat remembered, Snake also fought dirty. Plenty of men in the area bore the scars of Snake’s wrath.

With a howl of rage, Snake charged Ryan. The Marine stepped deftly aside, and the bully plowed headfirst into the trunk of an ancient maple. He straightened for a moment, shook his head as if to clear it, then crumpled into a heap at the foot of the tree.

“We’d better call the paramedics,” Ryan said. “He probably gave himself a concussion.”

Ryan had won the fight without throwing a punch.

Cat moved to his side. While she was grateful for his physical prowess, she was sick with disappointment over the way the night had ended. She’d planned for every contingency.

Except Snake Larson.

Ryan seemed to know her thoughts. “Don’t let that drunk spoil your fun. I’ve had a great time.”

“Me, too.”

Before she realized what was happening, she had found herself in Ryan’s arms. His fleeting kiss had been swift and gentle but filled with promises of much more to come.

Before his leave was over, he’d made good on those promises. Later, when he’d returned from Kuwait, he’d asked her to marry him. She hadn’t hesitated to agree. And although Ryan hadn’t lived long enough to know it, during that last blissful leave, their daughter, Megan, had been conceived.

Cat closed her eyes and issued a silent prayer of thanks for her beautiful daughter, the unexpected blessing that had given Cat and her father a reason to endure after Ryan and Marc had died. More than a reason to endure, Cat thought. Megan was her whole life. Cat couldn’t think of anything she wouldn’t do for her daughter.

Ryan’s daughter.

Stiff from sitting so long on the porch, Cat set aside her cold coffee and tugged her jacket closer. She’d never forget those special weeks over five years ago that she and Ryan had spent together before he left for Tabari, especially the first time they’d made love—

The whine of an engine straining on a steep grade and the clash of changing gears jerked her from her recollections, and anger flashed through her. Besides Megan, memories of Ryan were all she had, and she resented anything that interrupted her reminiscence. Pushing to her feet, she watched the unfamiliar vehicle approach.

The battered pickup pulled to a stop before the front gate, and the driver stepped out. Even in the gloom of the gathering twilight, Cat immediately recognized the huge man’s threatening silhouette.

Snake Larson.

She shivered with the unearthly awareness that her trip down memory lane had conjured up the last person in the world she wanted to see.

“Hello, Snake,” she called as he swaggered toward the porch. “What are you doing back from Billings? I heard you’ve been working a construction job down there the last few years.”

He grinned, teeth gleaming yellow in the dim light. “Job’s finally finished. I’ve come home to work trails for the Forest Service this summer.”

At the bottom of the steps, he stopped and removed his hat. His eyes, small and unpleasant, at least looked clear. He didn’t act drunk, either, but with Snake, the difference between sobriety and inebriation was hard to discern. He was infamous for his volatile moods, unpredictable escapades and an amazing capacity for holding his liquor.

“Good to see you again, Cat.”

“If you’ve come to visit Dad, I’ll get him.” She started toward the door.

“Don’t bother,” Snake called. “It’s you I’m looking for.”

“Why?” A sudden chill enveloped her.

“It’s been five years since your fiancé was killed. Figured you might be ready to get out a bit.”