Her Montana Cowboy. Jeannie Watt

to get her mind back on the here and now. “Do you have deer on the ranch?” Mentally she rolled her eyes. Of course, they had deer. She’d seen them last night.

      “Deer and elk and antelope. Moose.”

      “Bears?”

      “Yes.”

      She wasn’t a big fan of bears. She’d never seen one in person and she didn’t want to.

      Gus headed for his door, leaving Lillie Jean to wrestle with hers. Finally she got the thumb latch pushed in and pulled the heavy door open on protesting hinges. “You should put some grease to this thing.”

      “I’ll see to it,” he said in a tone which indicated a lack of appreciation for her helpfulness.

      “Just a suggestion.” Not trying to tell you your business or take over the ranch.

      Nope. She had no intentions in that direction. She’d seen enough of the ranch to satisfy her curiosity, and now she was going to settle matters with Thaddeus, get her answers and drive back home. Once there, she’d find a job and a more permanent place to live than her friend Kate’s tiny house. And maybe, because of this quest and her time away from Serenity, Texas, she’d be better equipped to deal with the fallout of her broken engagement and the fact that A Thread in Time was no longer hers. Maybe some new scandal had rocked her community and she wouldn’t be on the receiving end of pitying glances and less than helpful reassurances that this had all happened for a reason.

      But no matter what, it was going to sting to drive past her storefront, and it was going to suck to run into Andrew and her other ex-partner, Taia. The business stealers.

      How had she not seen any of this coming?

      The fact that she hadn’t, that she’d assumed that Andrew’s vague withdrawal had something to do with prewedding jitters, left her shaken. Half-afraid to trust her own judgment. And worse than that, it had affected her creativity. She hadn’t sewn or picked up her sketch pad in six weeks. And the way things were going, it didn’t look like she was going to reclaim her creativity anytime soon.

      She let out an audible sigh, and then her eyes flashed open as she realized what she’d done. Audience. You have an audience.

      But when she gave Gus Hawkins a furtive sideways glance, he appeared as lost in thought as she’d been, eyes fixed on the track in front of them.

      * * *

      LILLIE JEAN HUDDLED in the oversize coat, even though the heater was blowing full blast and Gus was starting to sweat, almost as if she was trying to disappear inside of it. Every now and again he’d hit a rut wrong or the tire would bump up over a rock and it would throw her sideways, but she always righted herself without a word. It was obvious that she didn’t have a lot of experience driving over rough terrain, because she didn’t have a clue how to anchor herself in place with strategic handholds. The truck was old and had lap belts instead of shoulder harnesses, and he couldn’t help but note that Lillie Jean needed a shoulder harness.

      “You might want to grab the handle above the door,” he said after a big bump that almost brought her out of her belt. “It’ll keep you from bouncing around so much.”

      “Thank you.” The words came out stiffly, but she took hold of the plastic handle.

      “Not a problem.” His words were equally clipped.

      The rest of the boundary fence in this pasture was intact, which would keep Carson off his back for a day or two. The man understood next to nothing about ranching, but that didn’t keep him from giving directives. Gus had felt sorry for the guy Carson hired to manage his place a few months ago, but the man quickly came to his senses and quit two weeks in. Now Carson ran the place himself and let everyone know it when they met at various public events.

      “Do you own an interest in the ranch?”

      Gus shot Lillie Jean a frowning look. He’d been so deep in his head that she’d startled him by speaking.

      “I manage the place.”

      “Are you Thad’s heir?”

      He didn’t want to answer that question, but couldn’t come up with a reason not to. “The last I heard.”

      “Does he have a will?”

      “He does.”

      “So this isn’t only about you watching out for your uncle. You’re watching out for you, too.”

      He shot her a cool look. “Something wrong with that?”

      “No.” She spoke lightly. “But maybe being in that position will help you to understand that I’m in the same boat.”

      He didn’t have a lot to say to that. Did he resent her showing up out of nowhere? Oh yeah. But facts were facts, and if she was the silent partner’s heir, then he had to adapt. In twenty-four short hours his life had essentially been turned upside down by something that Thad had been aware of all along. Who would have thought quiet Thad would have been embroiled in such a soap opera?

      But it did explain why he wouldn’t live on the ranch. It might even explain why he’d clung to his bachelorhood so tightly. He was afraid not to. And that kind of broke Gus’s heart. Decades of loneliness and now Lillie Jean shows up as a flesh-and-blood reminder of everything that had gone down. He hated that his uncle had to deal with this.

      “Did it occur to you before you arrived that showing up as you did would upset Thad?” He tried not to sound judgmental, but failed.

      “I wanted answers.” There was a tightness to her voice. “I wanted to see the ranch.”

      “So, no.” Gus glanced sideways at his passenger, then let out a curse as the truck lurched sideways, yanking the steering wheel out of his hands. The frame of the truck hit rock as the front wheel slipped deep into a rut. Lillie Jean’s head snapped forward on impact, her forehead making solid contact with the dash.

      “Lillie Jean—”

      She pulled herself upright, one hand pressed against her forehead just over her right eyebrow, her eyes wide with shock. He gave another silent curse as he saw blood oozing from between her fingers.

      “Keep your hand there.”

      She instantly pulled it away, took a look at her bloody fingers, gasped, then quickly put her fingers back where they’d been, smearing blood across her forehead. Gus had caught a quick look at the wound, which was bleeding freely as head wounds tended to do. It was short and gaping. Deep, dark red.

      “Hold on.” He fished around under the seat and pulled out a first aid kit sealed in a zipper bag. It contained only rudimentary supplies, but had saved his butt a time or two when he’d injured himself while working alone. He pulled out a box of gauze pads and peeled one off the top and handed it to her, she pressed it to the wound for a few seconds, then turned and pulled down the visor.

      “No mirror,” she muttered.

      “Old truck.” If it had been newer, she probably wouldn’t have an injury, but the dash was sunbaked and hard as a rock.

      She peeled the gauze off and tilted her head toward him, obviously wanting an opinion.

      Gus shook his head and handed her another gauze pad. “Quick, before it drips.”

      Lillie Jean slapped the new gauze in place, and Gus said, “We can go to the urgent care clinic and they can put a butterfly on it and close it up.”

      “Or...?”

      Or? What did she mean “or”?

      “I can do the same?”

      She reached for another gauze pad. “Take me to the ranch. We can do it there.”

      “You’re sure?” Because he didn’t want her coming back at him later.

      “Yes.” She gave him a conflicted look.