Montana Mistletoe Baby

“You rode bulls,” she said wryly. “This big old baby shouldn’t be a problem.”

“He’s almost as tall, too...” Curtis put out a tentative hand, and Miley sniffed him.

“Meet Miley,” she said. “He’s my right-hand dog.”

“Hey...” Curtis let Miley sniff him again, then stroked the top of Miley’s gray head. “You’re a big fella.”

Miley rolled his eyes back in ecstasy and nuzzled closer to Curtis like the big baby he was. She heaved a sigh. When Miley looked back at her, the dog froze for a moment, his eyes locked on his mistress.

“You’re a traitor,” she said with a low laugh.

Miley, reassured that there was no actual danger, turned his attention to sniffing the ground and finding a place to pee.

“So, are you ready to head out to the field?” Curtis asked.

“Absolutely. Let me get my bag.” Barrie went around her truck and opened the back to get her supplies. Then she met him at the ranch truck they’d take out into the field.

“Is...he coming?” Curtis asked dubiously.

Betty opened the side door at that moment, and when she spotted Miley, her face crinkled into a smile.

“Oh, you handsome young man!” she exclaimed. “Come over here, Miley. Betty has some treats for her boy!”

Curtis shot his aunt a look of surprise and Barrie chuckled. “They’re already acquainted.”

“Looks like,” Curtis replied with a shake of his head.

Betty disappeared into the house, Miley joyfully bounding behind her. The screen door slammed shut, and Curtis faced her with one side of his mouth turned up in a smile.

“Lead the way,” she said, jutting her chin toward the rusty red Chevy. She wouldn’t be softened by him. At this point, she was immune to his charms. Besides, Curtis Porter was selling her out. He might not owe her a blasted thing anymore, especially when it came to that particular piece of property, but he still had the uncanny ability to turn her entire life upside down just by waltzing into town. And she hated that. His fingerprints were still on her life, and she couldn’t ever quite scrub them off.

So Curtis was back, and he was screwing her over, but in the meantime, he was a paying customer and Barrie couldn’t afford to be choosy.

Chapter Three (#u49508100-7e9c-51fe-8d26-abb2eb436d66)

Curtis opened the passenger side door and held out his hand. Barrie stepped smoothly past him and awkwardly hoisted herself up into the seat without his aid. He shook his head. Just like old times.

“It’s a hand up,” he said with a wry smile, “nothing more.”

And he meant that. He wasn’t foolish enough to try something with her again. He already knew how that ended, and he was no longer a twenty-year-old pup looking to belong somewhere. The last fifteen years had solidified him, too. He’d learned about himself—his strengths and weaknesses, as well as what he wanted out of life: a job he could rely on, a place where he could make a difference and earn some respect. Just once, he wanted to be called Mister.

“I’m fine.” Barrie met his gaze with a cool smile of her own, and he adjusted his hat, then handed her the leather veterinary bag. She’d never really needed him for anything, and that had chafed.

Curtis slammed the door shut and headed around to the driver’s side. The south field was a fifteen-minute drive. Earlier he’d brought the cow some hay and a bucket of water and tossed a saddle blanket over its back to keep it warm until he could bring Barrie out there. He started the truck and cranked up the heat.

“That’s some dog you’ve got there,” he said as he turned onto the gravel road that led past the barn and down toward the pasture.

“Miley’s my baby,” she said, and he noticed her rub a hand over her belly out of the corner of his eye. He was still getting used to this—the pregnant Barrie. She looked softer this way, more vulnerable, but looks were obviously deceiving, at least as far as her feelings for him were concerned.

“Until you have this one, at least,” he said, nodding toward her belly.

“Miley will still be my baby,” she replied, then sighed. “But yes, it’ll be different. I honestly didn’t think I’d end up having kids, so I may have set Miley up with some grand expectations.”

“You always wanted kids, though,” he countered.

“I know, but sometimes life works out different than you planned,” she replied. “Exhibit number one, right here.” She patted her belly.

According to Aunt Betty, he’d been the reason she stayed single and childless, and he didn’t like that theory. So their marriage hadn’t lasted. The rest of her life’s choices couldn’t be blamed on him any more than her successes could be attributed to him. He stayed silent for a few beats.

“What?” she said.

“Betty kind of—” How much of this should he even tell her? “She said I’d done a real number on you.”

“You did,” she retorted. “But like I said, I’m fine.”

“So you don’t blame me for...anything?”

“Oh, I hold a grudge, Curtis.” She shot him a rueful smile. “But you’ll just have to live with that. Divorces come with grudges built in.”

Curtis nodded. “Alright. I guess I can accept that.”

Besides, from where he was sitting, her life hadn’t turned out so bad. And as for the kids—she was having a baby, wasn’t she?

“So, you’re done with bull riding, then?” she asked.

“Yeah.” She’d been right about the longevity of it. “It’s tough on a body. I can’t keep it up. Besides, it’s time to do something where I can grow old.”

“Like a stud farm,” she said.

“Yep. As half owner, I’ll be managing the place, not doing the physical labor.”

She nodded. “It’s smart. I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks.”

“Will you miss it—the bull riding, I mean?”

He rubbed his hand down his thigh toward his knee, which had started to ache with the cold. There was something about those eight seconds in the ring that grew him in ways Barrie had never understood. It was man against beast, skill against fury. He was proving himself in there—time after time—learning from mistakes and fine-tuning his game. He never felt more alive than when he was on the back of an enraged bull.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I will miss it. I do already. My heart hasn’t caught up with my age yet, I guess.”

“It never did.” Her tone was dry, and she cast him one unreadable look.

He chuckled. “Is that the grudge?”

“Yep.” And there wasn’t even a glimmer of humor in her eye.

But that wasn’t entirely fair, either. They’d been opposites, which was part of the fuel of their passion. She was almost regal, and he was the scruffy cowboy. She came from a good family, and he came from a chronically overworked single mom who’d consistently chosen boyfriends over him. Barrie had been the unblemished one, the one life hadn’t knocked around yet, and he’d already been through more than she could fully comprehend by the time he’d landed in Hope at the ripe old age of sixteen. If anyone should have been the obsessive planner at that point, most people would have assumed it was Curtis—just needing a bit of stability—but it had been Barrie who wanted everything nailed down and safe. And she had her untainted life here in Hope as her proof that her way was better than his. What did a scuffed-up cowboy like him know about a calm and secure life?