Beneath Montana Skies. Mia Ross
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idiot could tell there was more to the story than that, but she didn’t have the time or the patience to drag anything more out of him. Besides, he was obviously not keen to talk about it, or he would have spilled his guts to her already. She still couldn’t believe he’d approached her in the middle of the street this way. Then again, he’d probably been hoping that a meeting in public would keep things between them more or less civil. Apparently, he’d gotten smarter since the last time she saw him.
She’d mostly recovered from the shock of seeing him, so she called up her backbone and opened the driver’s door. “Well, enjoy your vacation. Bye.”
She climbed into the cab and reached out to pull the door closed, but he stopped it with a strong hand scarred from years of rope burns and broken bones. Glancing down at the door and then up at her, he asked, “What’s this decal for the Mustang Ridge Conservancy about? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a new organization in town,” she explained as patiently as she could. “There’s a group of local residents working to make sure this area stays the way it is and out of the clutches of a big energy developer that’s been sniffing around the last few months.”
“Looking for what?”
“Natural gas and oil. That may or may not be under the ground, and may or may not be feasible to pump out of where it is.”
A slow grin worked its way across the face that was still way too handsome for the good of any woman within ten miles. “You sound mad.”
“I am,” she spat. “What they’ve got in mind will destroy the environment, and the idea of it makes me furious. My family’s been here on our original homestead for generations, and so have plenty of others. If we have anything to say about it, that land will stay the way it’s always been.”
“Sounds like a tough job.”
“We’ll figure it out.” They had to, she added silently, because the alternative wasn’t even worth thinking about.
“Speaking of your family, I was hoping to stop by and see JD while I’m in town. Ya think that’d be okay?”
Her father would probably take one look at his visitor and start choosing a shotgun from the rack in his den. In all honesty, Morgan thought that would be entertaining to watch. “It’s fine with me. If he doesn’t want to see you, I have no doubt he’ll tell you so.”
Ty stared at her through narrowed eyes, the brim of his hat adding an old gunslinger effect to the look. After a moment, though, that infernal grin was back in place. “We’re neighbors, so we’re gonna have to deal with each other at some point. No time like the present, right?”
Morgan didn’t really care if he dropped off the face of the earth and was never seen again. But that sounded childish, even to her, so she went with a noncommittal shrug. “Whatever.”
“My truck’s over there,” he commented, nodding to a flashy silver extended cab model parked across the street. It made her keenly aware that the mud-spattered vehicle she was driving was looking pretty ragged these days. “Mind if I follow you out there?”
“Whatever.”
This time, he wisely let her close the door. She gave it a little more muscle than was strictly necessary, and the slam echoed off the two-story buildings that flanked both sides of the small Main Street business district. She started the engine, then noticed that he was still hanging in the open window, arms spread wide as if he was reluctant to let her go. Tamping down her impatience to be free of him, she glowered up at him. “Was there something else, Ty?”
“Yeah.” After a deep breath, he grimaced and said the words she’d given up on ever hearing. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she demanded, his remorse only adding fuel to her temper. “Slinking out of Houston in the middle of the night, or never having the guts to tell me why?”
“Both, and all the other things I did wrong with you. With us,” he added in a somber tone. “You deserved better than what you got from me, but I want you to know that I honestly loved you.”
A flood of long-buried emotions was threatening to swamp her good sense, but Morgan ruthlessly shoved them back into the dark recesses of her heart where they belonged. The boy she’d once loved had let her down in the worst conceivable way, and no matter how handsome or contrite the man standing in front of her seemed to be, she had no intention of letting him off the hook now. Or ever.
“Thanks. You know the way.”
As she started the engine, he gave her the kind of lost-puppy-dog look that she’d never seen from the arrogant cowboy she’d known most of her life.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked.
Angling a look at him from behind her sunglasses, she cocked her head in a show of considering his request. And then, because he totally deserved it, she brought the hammer down on him. “No.”
With that, she shifted into Reverse and backed out of her spot, not caring whether she ran over his fancy riding boots or not. She caught sight of him in her rearview and tried not to be jealous of him as he strode across the street and beeped his truck open with one of those fancy new key fobs that did everything but order pizza for you.
Who did he think he was, anyway, she fumed while she sped out of town and toward the sanctuary of her family’s ranch. Ambushing her like that, apologizing as if what he’d done to her was no big deal?
It had been an enormous, life-altering deal for her, and while things had turned out well enough, she resented the fact that he’d been able to blithely go on to enjoy a fabulous career when she’d had to sacrifice her own.
That was in the past now, she reminded herself, feeling the wind pick up as she increased her speed outside the town limits. Not far from the quaint shops and vintage theater, the scenery changed dramatically, and she felt her temper subsiding as she looked around her at the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. Mile after mile of wild beauty and rolling free-range pastureland flew past, broken up by ranches and small farms that seemed to be part of the landscape instead of built on top of it. Off in the distance the sun reflected off the southern face of the Bridger Mountains, giving them a cloud-like appearance that was still unlike anything she’d ever seen.
During her rodeo career, she’d traveled all over the country, racking up one barrel-racing trophy after another because she and her half-mustang palomino, Sadie, were just a tick crazier than their competition. But no city or town she’d ever been to could hold a candle to home. That was what made it home, she supposed as she turned into the long drive marked by a hand-carved sign that read Whittaker Ranch—1882.
Driving between long lines of board fence, she caught sight of her mare and smiled for the first time since Ty had rattled her in town. She pulled over and was mildly annoyed when he followed suit. Determined not to let him ruin her moment, she grabbed some dried apple slices from the stash she kept in the glove box and got out.
Sadie’s ears perked up when Morgan came around the car and headed for the fence. Nickering a greeting, the gorgeous horse tossed her head like the diva she was and pushed against the top rail, craning her neck to reach the treats.
“Hold on to yourself,” Morgan teased, using her father’s equine version of hold your horses. Sadie angled a look at her, and she laughed as she held out a handful of Sadie’s favorite snack. They were gone in an instant, and while she was snuffling around for more, she noticed Ty.
Blowing out an excited breath, she danced along the rail to where he was standing, arms spread over the top as if he’d been waiting for her to notice him. He showed her his empty hands, but apparently she didn’t mind that he didn’t have anything for her. Nosing under his palm, she nudged him into petting her cheek, then ruffling her forelock the way she liked.
“Traitor,” Morgan grumbled, but the horse didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t happy.
“How are you,