My Montana Home

“Zachary,” said Robert, “by now your aunt Thea’s figured out I made my escape, and she’s about to come chasing me down. You want to head her off?”

Zak nodded, and went racing off in the direction of the ranch house. Cassie watched him go, then turned back to her father.

“Dad—”

“Hold on. Before you start lecturing me about my heart, I’ve got something to say to you.” He swung down from the horse almost as nimbly as he had twenty years ago, when Cassie was a child. He took off his hat, revealing hair still thick, still reddish despite the streaks of white at his temples. Cassie studied his face, looking for signs of improved health. His complexion didn’t seem too bad today…

“Stop looking at me like I’m about to keel over,” he grumbled. “And just listen. You and Zak are going to move here and live with me. No more arguments.”

Her feelings of warmth and sympathy vanished. “I can’t believe you’re starting this again—”

“You won’t take money from me. You won’t take help. You keep talking about your damn independence. But all you’re doing is hurting your own son.”

Cassie struggled not to lash back at him, not to say anything at all. But he always knew exactly what to say. He knew where her vulnerabilities were. With Zak.

She found herself agonizing all over again. Maybe she was doing the wrong thing. Maybe trying to build a home for herself and Zak was a hopeless dream. Maybe she should sacrifice all her hard-won independence and move back to Walking Stones. For Zak’s sake…

She was saved further turmoil by the appearance of a vehicle on the road. A heavy-duty, mudsplattered Land Rover with her sister Thea in the driver’s seat and Zak on the passenger side. Thea came to a stop, got out and gave Cassie a hug. Cassie hugged back somewhat awkwardly. Ever since finding the love of her life in Rafe Rafferty, the local deputy sheriff, Thea had gained a happiness that seemed to embrace the whole world. She and Rafe lived in Paradise Corners, but they were both enthralled with the house they were building on a piece of Walking Stones land. They hoped to move into their new home soon—a home they would no doubt fill to overflowing with their love, hopes and dreams. Cassie felt a stirring of envy. No wonder her younger sister was so happy these days. This new, exuberant Thea was very appealing—but also a little overwhelming at times. For years, Cassie and her youngest sister had shared a relationship of prickly politeness—and at times, outright conflict. Cassie was still trying to get used to the new openness. After all, Maxwells had never been known for their geniality.

Cassie stood back and surveyed her sister. Thea’s lustrous black hair was cropped short, as befitted a woman who’d devoted her life to ranching. Usually she wore cowboy boots, jeans and a work shirt, but today she had on her Sunday dress, the one that made her eyes look a deeper blue-green than ever.

“Stunning,” Cassie said in all sincerity. “The folks at First Methodist won’t be able to keep their eyes on their hymnbooks.”

“That’s because they’ll be staring at you,” Thea said, sounding a bit awkward herself now that the enthusiasm of her initial greeting was over. “They only get to see you once a month—our bona fide city girl, come back to Paradise Corners.”

“I’m not going to church today,” Cassie protested.

“Oh, come on, you know it reminds you of old times,” Thea said. “You and me sitting in the back of the choir, tossing spit wads at the boys.”

Cassie smiled in spite of herself. There had been a time—very long ago—when she and Thea and Jolie had been close. Before their mother had died…

Now Thea approached their father. “You know what Jolie said, Dad. Lots and lots of taking it easy. You’re going back to the house, and you’re going to sit down and rest while Beth brings you breakfast. And no, there won’t be any eggs and bacon. Just oatmeal.” Thea sounded almost as commanding as the old man himself. He gazed at her sourly, then climbed back on his horse.

“I’m riding back,” he told her. Then, with a muttered comment about how much he despised oatmeal, he loped off again.

Thea shook her head. “I don’t know what to do—and Jolie doesn’t either. He won’t listen to us. Jolie stops by whenever she can, and I’m over here working all day, but we still can’t seem to control him. Beth tries to make sure he eats right, but then she’ll find him down at Grizzly’s Diner, eating a steak.” Beth Peace was the Maxwells’ longtime housekeeper. If she couldn’t keep Robert in line, what hope was there for the rest of them?

“He drives me crazy,” Cassie said. “But…I don’t want to lose him.” The words popped out before she could stop them.

“Yeah,” said Thea. “I’m kind of fond of the old guy myself. Go figure.” The two sisters shared a glance that bespoke all the years with their father. Defying him, fearing him, longing for his approval, and now worrying about him.

Thea was the first to shake herself from the reverie. She glanced toward Zak, who’d clambered out of the Land Rover and was now squatting to poke a stick in the ground. Thea hauled Cassie a short distance away.

“Okay,” she said. “Out with it. Ever since Gwen called Jolie and told her the news, we’ve been dying to ask you about it. Who’s this new boyfriend you’ve got in Billings?”

Cassie stared at her sister. “What on earth are you talking about? Why would Gwen—”

“Oh, come on,” Thea said impatiently. “Gwen called Jolie to discuss a patient referral or some such, and your name happened to come up. Gwen told Jolie all about how you brought some devastating hunk into her office yesterday because you’d broken his finger—”

“Dislocated,” Cassie said. “Not broken. For crying out loud, at least get the details right.”

“So tell me the details,” said Thea. “Who is he? How long have you known him? When are we going to meet him?”

Cassie groaned. “I can’t believe this, I really can’t. Why did I ever choose Gwen as Zak’s pediatrician—”

“Don’t change the subject, Cassie. Who is the guy?”

Cassie moved to a place where she was sure Zak would be out of hearing range. Thea followed. Cassie knew there was no getting away from it.

“I hate to disappoint you,” she said, “but I only met Andrew Morris yesterday. He’s Hannah’s grandson from Texas, and he’s only here to settle her estate. I, well, I fell out of a tree and landed on top of him…” Cassie stopped when she saw the way Thea was laughing at her. “Okay, okay, so it’s not the best way to make an impression on a man. But I didn’t want to make an impression.”

“So, tell me,” Thea said as soon as she could control her mirth. “Is he really as much of a hunk as Gwen says?”

“Yes, he’s gorgeous. Satisfied?”

Thea looked thoughtful. “So that’s the end of the story. You break his finger—sorry, you dislocate it—and you just walk away from the guy. Too bad.”

“I did the decent thing,” Cassie found herself saying. “I invited him to dinner to make up for all the trouble I’d caused.”

Thea perked up. “Dinner…hmm. Sounds romantic.”

“It wasn’t,” Cassie protested. “Zak refused to come down to eat, which left me alone with Andrew—”

“Like I said. Romantic.” Humor danced in her sister’s eyes again. Cassie glared.

“The food was mediocre. Growing up around Beth’s gourmet offerings, nobody in this family has ever learned to cook a decent meal. Me included—”

“Did you kiss him?” Thea interrupted.

Cassie felt her skin heating up. Silently she cursed the fair Maxwell complexion that betrayed every emotion.

Thea nodded. “Was it a hot kiss?”

“It hardly lasted at all,” Cassie muttered. “Zak showed up, and believe me—that put an end to things.”

“This is all very, very interesting,” Thea pronounced. “Jolie and I have been hoping you’d find someone.”

“I haven’t found anyone. I met a man. I dislocated his finger. I kissed him. End of story!”

Thea didn’t look convinced.

FOR THE SECOND TIME in two days, Cassie entered a doctor’s clinic. This one, however, was on Main Street in Paradise Corners, Montana. And it belonged to Cassie’s older sister, Jolie.

Cassie sat in the waiting room while Jolie attended to a Sunday emergency—a little girl who’d sprained her wrist after pretending to parachute out of a swing. Half an hour later, Cassie watched as Jolie ushered child and parent out the door with efficient care. The little girl’s tears had dried, and now she seemed proud of her exploit.

Jolie was very good at what she did. She could have stayed in California, specialized and be driving a Mercedes by now. Instead she’d come back to Montana to attend to ordinary, everyday scrapes and sprains and bruises. It should have made her seem ordinary. But it didn’t. Whenever Cassie was around Jolie, she still felt stirrings of the old half-resentful, half-admiring sense of intimidation. The sense that she could never measure up to Jolie…never be as smart or pretty or accomplished. Cassie sighed. Would she ever escape the trap of her childhood emotions?

Now Jolie sat down next to her, unbuttoning her white lab coat. She, too, wore a Sunday dress underneath. Her long hair, with its tendency to curl, was strawberry blond, her eyes a striking shade of blue.