Montana Man

“Okay.” Josie sounded weary, and he knelt to pluck at the row of buttons marching down her back.

In no time the dress and her shoes were off and laid on the seat of the nearby chair. He carried her and Baby Beth to the waiting bed, unlatched her brace and helped her settle between the sheets.

“I could read to you for a while, if you want.” He reached for one of the books on the nearby shelf, looking for one appropriate for a little girl. “I know you like being read to.”

“I’m tired.” Josie rolled on her side, her arms wrapped tight around her doll. “G’night, Uncle Trey.”

“Sleep tight, sweet one.” He pulled the quilt up to Josie’s chin. Wetness dampened his fingers.

“I miss my mama.” Her words came muffled by the covers. “I miss her so much.”

“Me, too, honey.” Trey laid his hand on her back and felt the shake of her sobs. She didn’t want to be held, but stayed huddled in a ball until sleep claimed her.

When he reached to turn down the crystal lamp’s wick, Miranda’s locket caught the light, burning steady and bright. When the wick sputtered and the flame died, the locket held a reflection for just a second longer, then darkness filled the room.

Chapter Five

T he blizzard continued to howl between the buildings like a trapped wolf. Wrapped well against the early morning temperatures, Miranda kept her head bowed to the wind and tried not to slip on the boards.

Many merchants hadn’t opened up yet, or were still out attempting to shovel off the boardwalk. Snow drove so hard it was impossible to see the street beside her.

It was her lucky day. The mercantile was open. A striped awning sheltered the front door, where a freshly shoveled path led into the store.

A bell jangled overhead, the scents of wood smoke, leather, the pickle barrel and a blend of hundreds of other scents welcomed her. A potbellied stove in the middle of the store glowed red, puffing out heat.

“’Mornin’.” An older gentleman straightened from his chair near the warmth.

“Good morning.” She slipped between rows of canned goods and tugged her shopping list out of her pocket.

“Miranda!” Josie limped toward her, locket sparkling against her blue wool dress. “Are you shoppin’, too?”

“I firmly believe that shopping is a girl’s duty.” Warmth gathered behind her breastbone, and she knelt so she was eye-level with the child. “You’ve got an empty basket.”

“I can’t decide. I’m tryin’, but it’s hard.” Josie’s brow wrinkled. “Uncle Trey doesn’t know anything about shoppin’.”

“Men never do. It’s one of their many flaws.”

“I heard that.” Trey’s boots knelled on the floorboards. “My flaws are only good ones. And Josie, I can, too, shop.”

Miranda gazed up the strong column of Trey’s legs, encased in soft denim, past the breadth of his chest. Her heart kicked just from looking at him. Heavens, he was a handsome man.

“You can’t, either, Uncle Trey.” Josie shook her head. “I gotta have curtains and not plain white ones.”

“White curtains?” Miranda lifted one brow. “Surely you can spring for a nice print.”

Trey held up his hands. “What’s wrong with white? It matches everything.”

“I see your problem, Josie.” Miranda tried hard not to look at Trey again. “It looks like you need help with that flawed uncle of yours.”

“I may be the best doctor this side of the Badlands, but I’m confused. I don’t know what’s wrong with white. We can have white curtains, white quilts.” Trey gestured toward the ready-made items spread out on a back counter. “Maybe blue?”

“But it’s for my bedroom.” Josie grabbed hold of Miranda’s hand. “’Cept we don’t got a bed yet, and I’m only five.”

“You need help, Josie. You can’t trust a man to do a woman’s job.” Miranda took a breath, heart pounding. “I could help you out this morning. I have a few hours to spare until the train comes.”

“The train?” Josie’s brow furrowed. “You can’t leave. You just can’t. You got off at my new town and everything.”

Miranda gently brushed soft red curls away from the girl’s sad eyes, feeling Trey’s scrutiny like a physical touch. “This isn’t my new home, Josie, not like it’s yours. I have to go.”

“Oh.” Josie blinked, and tears gleamed there, honest and aching.

Trey’s face darkened, the jaunty grin gone from his mouth, leaving only a stark strength. “Miranda, where do you plan on going? There won’t be a train today.”

“I have a schedule right here in my pocket.”

“The passes are closed due to the storm.”

“Closed?” That didn’t sound like a good thing. Not good at all. Maybe for the train, but not for her. “The trains will run as soon as the storm’s over, right?”

“It’s not that simple. You’re in Montana Territory now. The word is that there won’t be a train for a few days after the storm or more. Maybe an entire week. We’ve got twelve-foot drifts out there.”

“A week?” She couldn’t stay here for a week. That would give the bounty hunters too much time to backtrack. Now what did she do? “I can’t leave until the storm clears.”

“No one leaves this town or enters it until then. We’re rimmed by mountains on all four sides, and the teamsters’ routes take as long to clear as the tracks.”

“We’ll see.” She’d been in worse straits and figured her way out of them.

“Will you really help me, Miranda?” Josie clung tightly to Trey with one hand, and Baby Beth with the other. “Mama made my other bedroom, and now I only got Uncle Trey.”

Trey gazed down at her, sizzling male power. “Yes, Miranda, help us. I’m woefully inadequate.”

It had been so long since she’d felt like this, full and alive, as if she could make a difference. As if she had worth.

But what if one of the bounty hunter’s men had spent the night here, too?

Either way, she was trapped in this town until the storm passed. “Okay, I’ll help you out. Let’s take a look at these quilts again. Tell me which ones you like.”

“I like the dotted one.” Josie ambled away from Trey’s grip. “And the flowers. Do you like them?”

“Absolutely.”

Miranda let Josie study the two patterns she liked for a long moment. Trey didn’t leave. He stood behind them, his presence as hard to ignore as the blizzard outside. Every hair on the back of her neck tingled, as if his look were a touch.

Why did her skin sparkle, as if waiting for his caress? After how Lewis had tried to hurt her, the last thing she wanted was a man’s affections.

Every time she looked up, Trey’s gaze met hers. Every time Josie limped to him, eager to show her uncle every item she’d decided to buy, he grinned.

Why on earth did his smile make the emptiness in her chest fade away?