Montana Dreams. Jillian Hart

grown up miserable here, but it surely had to be different this time. It wasn’t as if she were staying.

      Leaving was nonnegotiable. And if Hunter’s face filled her thoughts—high cheekbones, straight blade of a nose, magnetic deep violet eyes—then that was all the incentive she needed. That man had torn apart her heart, leaving nothing but pieces. He wasn’t going to do that again. And that’s exactly what he would do if he ever found out the truth.

      “Mom?” Simon’s voice bumped along as the truck bounced over ruts in the driveway. “I can help with supper if you want. I know you’ve got a lot to do.”

      “Why, I’d appreciate a helping hand.” That put a smile on her face. “You can be in charge of the pizza.”

      “I’m good with pizza. But I sorta heard what that man said. I could help with the cows, Mom. I know I could.”

      “I don’t want you having to work in the barn the way I did when I was your age.” She swung the pickup across the edge of the lawn and circled around, nosing it toward the driveway before shutting off the engine. It coughed to a slow stop. “I’m sure God has a plan in mind. Don’t worry, it will all work out.”

      “Okay.” Simon unbuckled. “Mom?”

      “Yeah?”

      “Bein’ here’s not so bad. I just want you to know you’re not alone.” He dropped to the ground and manhandled the grocery bag off the floor. “I’m gonna help you. You left your friends behind, too.”

      “Thanks, kiddo.” She let the Montana breeze blow through her hair as she gave the door a good slam. Judging by the shape everything else was in around here, she sure hoped the oven worked or supper would be quite a challenge.

      * * *

      Hunter barely heard his cell ring over the noise. Whenever his family got together, noise was a given. He left his sisters talking at the picnic table over their desserts and hiked across Luke’s back deck to get a little privacy. He shouldered through the back door where there was bound to be some quiet. “Hello?”

      “Hunter? Glad I caught you.” Milton Denning’s voice crackled over the line. Sounded like he was in the barn with the roar of machinery in the background, making him hard to hear. “Don’t suppose you’re lazing around with nothin’ going on by any chance?”

      “Me, lazing?” He glanced out the kitchen window where his family—brother, sisters and half sisters—roared in laughter about something. Something obviously hilarious. “What’s up? Are you running low on milk replacer again? I got a bag you can have—”

      “Thanks, but that’s not my biggest problem, not right now.” Milton’s words rumbled with severity. “I’m in the middle of milking without a single hired man.”

      “Milking?” He glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t you be done with that by now?”

      “Yep, and I’m not even halfway through—” The phone cut out on Milton’s end, leaving only static and crackle. “—just the two of us—be past bedtime when we finish up if I don’t get more help.”

      “This wouldn’t have something to do with Cal stopping by looking for work, would it?” He leaned against the counter, his thoughts drifting to Millie again. He gritted his teeth, trying to banish the woman from his mind. “I suppose it’s inevitable your men would try to find another position knowing Whip’s condition.”

      “That’s not it. Money trouble. I can’t afford to pay you, but we can work something out. Maybe trade man hours or something.” Milton blew out a frustrated breath. His phone crackled again. “—I need help tonight. I’m too old for this. Should have retired years ago, but I saw how Whip was. He’s been sick for a long time, he was just too stubborn to admit it. Someone has to look after the cows and fight for the hired men.”

      “The thing is, it’s almost my bedtime.” He glanced at the clock above the stove. Seven-eighteen. “I’m up at four for the morning milking.”

      “I know what I’m asking, but I’m struggling here.” Milton’s tone stung with wounded pride.

      That had to be a tough thing for a hardworking man to admit. Hunter blew out a sigh, did his best not to let the image of Millie into his mind, the one of her standing in line counting coupons, looking too thin and poor and worn-down. He couldn’t stop the lurch of his heart, just like he couldn’t stop hurting for her.

      So, her plans hadn’t worked out. It surprised him his bitterness had gone, leaving only regret in its place. Unaccustomed to the ache dead center in his chest, he pressed the heel of his hand there and rubbed.

      “Sure, I’ll come.” It wasn’t as if he’d have to see her. She wouldn’t be in the barn. Millie had Whip and her son to take care of—best not to think about the boy—so she’d be busy up at the house. It would be just him, Milton and the cows. “Let me tell Luke. I’m guessing he’ll want to volunteer to help you in the morning.”

      “What? Why, that would be Christian of him. Of both of you.” Milton swallowed hard. “You don’t know what this means.”

      “Hey, remember when I hired on at Whip’s place? You showed me the ropes. You taught me everything you knew about cows. This is the least I can do for you.” Hunter disconnected, pocketed his phone and checked the window again.

      Judging by the way everyone was gaping and pointing at him, Luke had likely told them about his run-in with Millie. Great. He rolled his eyes, shouldered through the door and hiked up the walls around his heart. No way was he letting anyone know, even those he loved most, exactly what having Millie back in town meant. Pain seared with each footstep he took toward those hopeful faces.

      “We just heard the news.” His half sister Colbie preened from the picnic table.

      “And now he gets a call and he’s going out. Look at him.” His sister, Brooke, gave a flip of her dark hair, violet eyes warm with optimism. “Those are his truck keys.”

      “Milton has a problem at the barn.” Best to act cool, as if he didn’t know what on earth they were talking about. He glanced past Colbie and Brooke to where his brother sat beside the twins, who were the youngest of the group. “Luke, I told him you’d pitch in come morning. He’s alone over there.”

      “With all those cows?” Luke’s brows shot up with concern. “Tell him I’m in.”

      “Good.” Best to leave before they bring up Millie again. Nell, their dear old dog, lifted her head off her paws, her eyebrows quirking with a question. She was a good herd dog, but she’d already put in her work for the day. “Why don’t you stay here, girl, and keep an eye on all those troublemakers?”

      She panted in agreement. He stroked her head on his way by her bed on the edge of the deck.

      “Hey, Hunter!” Luke’s voice sailed across the yard on a warm wind. “Say hi to Millie for us.”

      “Yeah, say hi!” the sisters chorused.

      “That would be hard—” he quipped “—as she wants to see me even less than I want to see her.”

      He turned on his heel, his boots crunching in the gravel as he headed to his own little house sitting at the end of the driveway. So, his family thought there was a possibility of a reunion? Really? Didn’t they know him by now? Through all the years he’d been a bachelor, including the long decade Millie had been gone, had he once taken an overt interest in a lady?

      No. Because he knew where romance led. He knew that love ended. Sure, a marriage may survive, but love? It was too fragile to last. That was the plain and simple truth and nothing on earth could ever convince him differently. He’d seen it in his parents’ marriage and in his own life, thanks to Millie.

      Agony shot through him with a crushing intensity that stopped him in his tracks. He pressed his hand to his chest again, reeling with the pain. If he didn’t know better, he’d