His Montana Homecoming

“I’m trying to figure you out and you quote scripture. Good blocking maneuver.”

No sense denying it. “Well, quit trying to figure me out.”

“Why?”

Because you make me uncomfortable and my heart races when you smile. Because I dreamed of kissing you.

Faith didn’t voice her thoughts. She didn’t have to because the waiter dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants chose that moment to arrive and take their orders.

Without hesitation, she asked for a well-done cheeseburger, fries and a pop. Dale did the same. Smiling at her with that secret-sharing smile all because they’d ordered the same thing. It made her stomach flutter. Ridiculous man! He poured on the charm a little too thick.

After the waiter left and returned with their soft drinks, Dale leaned forward. “Why don’t you date your young minister? He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is.” Faith sipped her pop. “But he’s not my type.”

“What’s your type?” The flirtatious glint was back in his eyes.

And that was a good thing. It meant she was safe. Scripture always came to the rescue when needed. Faith tipped her head and raised her glass. “I’ll let you know when I meet him.”

Dale’s smile grew wider.

And Faith’s stomach dropped. She had a bad feeling she may have misspoken, because Dale Massey was exactly her type.

Chapter Four (#ulink_b9b64077-371a-53ab-9067-f95bf0328279)

Dale couldn’t remember a time when he’d enjoyed a meal with a woman more. For one thing, Faith ate her food instead of picking at it. He didn’t know where she put it all, but the girl could eat. If he had a dollar for every woman he’d been out with who ordered salad and then left it unfinished, he’d be an even richer man.

Faith was real. And rather charming, too, in an honest, chatterbox sort of way. A bright spot in an otherwise inconvenient errand.

“You sure you don’t want to have a look around the stores while we’re here?” Women loved to shop, right?

Faith shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine.”

He glanced at her. She’d slipped out of her puffy jacket. She wore jeans and a sweater. A band of silver wrapped around her index finger and a watch encircled her wrist. “You’re not much into frills, are you?”

Faith shrugged. “I like a nice dress now and then.”

She wasn’t giving anything away, but Faith Shaw was not playing hard to get. He’d seen that role before and this wasn’t it. Dale knew he impressed most people, women in particular. So why was this woman indifferent to who he was but not what he was? He could tell she found him attractive. No surprise there. He found her attractive, too.

After the check had been paid and they walked side by side to the parking lot, Dale held out his hand. “Would you like me to drive?”

“Sure.” Faith hesitated only a moment before handing over her keys.

“To the Jasper Gulch hardware store.” He held the passenger-side door open for her.

She slipped in and buckled up. “Thanks.”

He leaned toward her. “My pleasure.”

She shook her head and laughed, making him want to try harder. Faith Shaw had poise, and a guard higher than most. Well, he was pretty good at scaling walls.

With one last glimpse of the mountains surrounding them, Dale tossed his cashmere coat over the backseat and then slid into the driver’s side, adjusting the seat to accommodate the length of his legs. “Do you ever ski here?”

“I’m not much of a downhill skier, but I like cross-country and snowshoeing. I paddle my way around the ranch when we get a good snow, but I’ve been to Lone Peak before. There are beautiful trails here.”

Dale imagined that was true. Although desolate, the scenery was postcard pretty. He pulled out onto the road mulling over what Faith had told him. Cross-country and snowshoes made sense. Faith Shaw kept her feet firmly planted on the ground.

Halfway to Jasper Gulch on the back road Faith had taken, Dale noticed an odd vibration in the steering wheel, followed by a consistent thump that grew louder. “Hear that?”

Faith’s eyes widened. “You should pull over.”

He did so, on a level stretch of road—if it could be called that. The entire pathway was white with packed snow. Evergreen trees lined the sides and they were dusted with the same. Clouds had crowded out the sun, making it feel much colder than before. And they hadn’t seen another vehicle since leaving the resort. There was no one in sight.

Dale got out and looked at the car, recognizing the problem right away. “Flat tire.”

Faith came around the front of the SUV to stand next to him. “Wonder why.”

“Does it matter?” Dale pulled his phone out of his suit-coat pocket and tried looking up the nearest tow truck. His internet connection churned sluggishly.

“You won’t get coverage here.” Faith headed for the back of the vehicle. She opened the hatch and reached in, pulling out the spare tire and then the jack.

Dale watched her, phone in hand. “What are you doing?

“I’m going to change the tire.”

“What about a tow truck?” He looked around the road. “Aren’t there any emergency phones out here?”

Faith laughed. “No. Who are you going to call, anyway?”

Dale glanced at his phone. The circle timer still swirled. “Have you ever changed a tire before?”

“Yes. My father made sure I knew how before I left for college. I can do it.”

Dale headed for the back of the truck, slipping as he went. His Gucci boots didn’t have much traction. Fumbling in a duffel bag labeled Safety Kit, he found neon orange triangles and a couple of fat candles. He placed the triangles along the side of the road behind them and then carefully padded his way to the front of the car. He should put on his long wool coat, but it’d only get in the way and restrain his movement.

He reached inside to click on the hazard lights. “What are those candles for?”

“A heat source in case I go off the road. Never leave a car idling if you’re stuck in a snowbank.” Faith knelt on the snow-packed road and loosened the lug nuts of the driver’s-side front tire with the crowbar that came with the jack. She looked as if she knew what she was doing.

“Here, let me help.”

Faith glanced up at him. “You ever do this?”

“No.” What kind of man was he that he couldn’t change a tire? “But I can figure it out.”

“You’ll ruin your suit.”

“I’ll buy a new one.”