Montana Man. Jillian Hart

eyes shone.

      An hour passed before the delivery sleigh was unloaded. Each time Josie’s happiness grew a notch, her sadness faded away. Each time Miranda felt a little brighter.

      “That’s it.” Trey burst through the door alone and dropped a bundle on the ground. “The blizzard looks like it’s blowing out. It’s hard to tell, though. It feels like a three-day-er.”

      “A what?”

      “A three-day blizzard. We get them all the time.”

      “Uncle Trey, you look like a great big snowman!” Josie clapped her hands.

      “Watch out, or I’m going to melt all over the floor. Who would treat Mrs. Watts’s rash then?” Trey swiped at his jacket, but the driven snow was so thick, it didn’t crumble. “I can’t find my buttons.”

      “Lucky for you, I’m here.” Heart full, Miranda swept the broom’s bristles across his chest. “I’ve always wanted to take a broom to a man.”

      “I bet you have.” A slow smile crooked his lips and his gaze. Why, it looked as if he was staring at her mouth.

      Heat flushed her face. She didn’t lift her gaze from the broom as she swatted the stubborn snow. It wouldn’t break apart. Like a miniglacier, it remained on his chest, immovable, while she could feel his gaze on her face, soft like a touch.

      She knew that touch. She’d felt it before. It was the way Lewis had looked at her when she’d thought… There. The snow cracked. One more determined swipe sent the whole of it smashing to the floor.

      “Miranda, come see!” Josie pulled aside the oilcloth protecting her purchases. “Oh, the flowers look so pretty.”

      “Pink roses are my favorite, too.” Miranda set the broom aside, but Trey caught her hand.

      It was impossible not to look at him. Not to feel a spark of attraction, a spark she didn’t want to feel, when his gaze fell to her mouth. “Have I thanked you today?”

      “You don’t need to.”

      “I saw the men after you. I saw how badly they wanted you. I just want you to know—” His voice dipped, so only she could hear. “I appreciate what you’re doing for Josie. Look how happy she is. Because of you.”

      “I’m sure it’s because of her dashing, debonair uncle with the big billfold.”

      “Yeah, but I couldn’t have picked out the curtains to match the quilt. Or the ten other things you helped her choose. You did a good job with her.”

      “Hurry up, Uncle Trey.” Josie, the shades of grief gone from her face, hugged a lace pillow in one arm and Baby Beth in the other. She limped toward her bedroom door. “I wanna see it all perfect.”

      “Then we’d better get busy.” Trey’s lips brushed Miranda’s cheek, quick and light, but the contact left a snap of sensation on her flushed skin. “That’s for Josie’s smile.”

      Even though she knew what all men were beneath the polish and charm, she liked him. Heaven help her, she really liked him.

      Mrs. Stoltz returned in time to hem the curtains while the soup warmed. By the time the noon meal was ready, the new curtains, tiny rosebuds printed on creamy white cotton, were, too. Mrs. Stoltz promised to add ruffles later.

      Trey hung the curtains across the wide window after the meal, according to his niece’s careful instructions.

      The rose-and-green braided rug graced the gleaming wood floors in the room’s center. Josie’s white four-poster bed was tucked in the corner, next to the warmer inside wall. The thick quilt sported appliquéd roses against rosebud-print calico blocks, a match to the curtains at the window.

      “Oh, Miranda.” Josie clasped her hands, swirling awkwardly on her injured leg. “It’s so pretty!”

      “You really like it?”

      “I do! It’s not like my old room at all, so it won’t make me sad.”

      Miranda felt a mix of emotions, shades of sadness for the girl’s loss.

      “It’s a good thing we had Miranda to help.” Trey laid his hammer on the brand-new bureau. “I might have talked you into the polka dots. We’d have had a disaster on our hands. Guess what?”

      “What?” Josie gazed up at her uncle. “You got me a surprise?”

      “You’re too smart. I can’t get nothing past you.” Trey gently tweaked her nose. “This should keep you and Miranda busy for the rest of the afternoon. Unless you two have designs on the rest of Mrs. Stoltz’s chocolate cake.” He cast his gaze to her.

      “The offer of cake is mighty tempting.” Miranda’s heart was warm, filled with the sweetness of the day.

      “I’m glad we’ve tempted you, Miranda.” Tiny lines crinkled in the corners of Trey’s eyes, laugh lines carved there over time. “Wait until you see my surprise. I’ll be right back.”

      She tried not to watch him, but her gaze followed him across the room. He looked strong from the back, too, she realized, her breath catching. Wide shoulders, muscled back, lean and powerful thighs.

      What was she doing? She should head back to her hotel, study the map she’d bought and figure out the best way to keep ahead of the bounty hunters. This storm wouldn’t last forever.

      But she didn’t want to go. She didn’t want this happy feeling to end.

      Trey returned with a trunk.

      “That’s no surprise. Those’re my clothes.” Josie tugged at the clasp.

      “That’s what you think.” Trey snapped the lock and lifted the top. “These are things I saved from your house.”

      “Mama’s afghan.” Josie trembled as she pulled the length of wool into her arms.

      “And look, things she made.” Trey lifted delicately crocheted doilies by lacy edges. “I thought you’d want to have them here with you.”

      Josie nodded, tears gleaming.

      “Wait, there’s something else.” He fished a brass frame from inside the brimming trunk. “A likeness of your parents.”

      Josie added the daguerreotype to the bundle in her arms and hugged it tight, looking not quite so lost.

      Without words, he pressed a kiss against her cheek, his love for her so true.

      I don’t belong here. Miranda felt it like a punch. She backed out of the room, her step made quiet by the howling storm outside.

      Regret filled her, and she could not look away as the big man and little girl fished through the treasures in the chest. Treasures Trey was probably hoping she would help Josie find places for.

      She wanted to stay, but it wasn’t her right. She tried to keep her step quiet on the parlor’s polished wood floors, heading for the door.

      “Where do you think you’re going?” Trey strode through the parlor as she cinched her sash tight. “What about my chocolate cake bribe?”

      “Tempting, but Josie needs you.” She reached for her cloak. “Thanks for including me this morning. I’ll keep the memories in my heart for a long time.”

      She stepped out into the cold and closed the door before the honest plea in Trey’s eyes changed her mind.

      The cold blizzard battered her, isolating her until she felt alone in a world of wind and white. She struggled through the deep snow toward the street. At least, she thought it was the street.

      Now she wasn’t certain of the direction. Snow pummeled her from every angle. Town was left, right? She turned around. A shadow hazed through the snow.

      Fear licked through her, and then she recognized the jaunty angle of a Stetson.