When a Cowboy Falls Hard (The Bridger Bunch #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Fighting a mild headache, Monty Bridger shrugged into a denim jacket, left his cottage and headed for the barn to meet his mom. A warm breeze caressed his freshly shaven jaw. He could’ve skipped the jacket.

He paused to draw in a cleansing breath. The bright aroma of new growth and loamy, fertile earth was so strong he could almost taste it.

Raindrops from an early morning shower sparkled on blades of grass poking up in his front yard. A stand of pines to his right glittered as if they’d been strung with fairy lights.

His headache eased. God, he loved this ranch, especially in June, and not just because he had a birthday coming up in two days. This was the time of year folks in Montana greeted with relief and joy.

Then again, he enjoyed all four seasons. The predictable shift from one to the next kept things interesting. He was good with that level of change in his life.

But abrupt and unexpected changes made him nervous. Which explained his headache this morning. He adjusted the fit of his Stetson and continued down the gentle slope toward the barn.

His mom waited for him by the open barn doors. From this distance she could be mistaken for a teenager dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, especially with her salt and pepper hair tucked under her Stetson.

She’d been his rock the past couple of years, grounding him and the rest of the family as they’d navigated life without their dad. She was the strongest person he’d ever known.

As he approached, he listened for the distinctive rumble of Graham’s new truck on the ranch road. Couldn’t hear it yet.

“Hey, mijo.” His mom gave him a smile. “Were you gathering your forces just now?”

He returned her smile. “More or less. Nice choice on the sweatshirt.” Luis’s wife Jordan had given one to each of them for Christmas—bright green with Bridger Bunch across the front.

She nudged back her hat and gazed up at him. “Figured it would be a fun thing to wear when we meet our new farrier. I wondered if you’d do the same and we’d be matchy-matchy.”

“Mine’s in the wash.”

“Might be just as well. One sweatshirt is folksy. Two is more of a statement. Graham said his niece is freaked out about shoeing our horses since we’re his oldest and biggest account.”

“I’m a little freaked out, myself. Graham Harrison’s been shoeing our horses as long as I can remember.”

“Same here. He was the ranch’s farrier when I married your dad.”

“It’s gonna be strange having someone else do it.”

“I suppose, but it’s not like he’s retiring. He’ll work alongside her, especially at first.”

“Are you positive he’s not sick or something?” He winced as pain jabbed at his temple.

“Si, mijo. I grilled him about his health. He says he’s fine.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I do. I threatened to make his life a living hell if he was lying to me.”

“Then I don’t get why he’s taking on an assistant. He’s never said the work is getting too hard, at least not to me.”

“He’s not the complaining type.”

“Do you think he needs the help?”

“Possibly. He’s the same age as your dad.” Her breath caught. “Or the age your dad would’ve been.” She cleared her throat. “It’s a physically demanding job.”

“Are you sure he’s not sick?”

“I’m sure.” She gazed at him. “He knew why I was quizzing him. He’s been a fixture around here.”

“That’s putting it mildly. Thanks to him, I’m a better vet. He’s taught me to look for things I might have missed.”

“And he’s likely passed those tips on to his niece.”

“Makes sense.” He let out a sigh. “What’s her name again?”

“Zinnia.”

“Like the flower?”

“Like the flower. Graham says she really knows her stuff.”

“He’s her uncle. He might be prejudiced.”

“Yes, but he loves this family. He wouldn’t saddle us with a farrier who doesn’t measure up.”

“Something just occurred to me. Graham’s brother died years ago. Is Zinnia—”

“Yeah, that was her dad. He crashed the family’s small plane. Her mom died, too.”

“Ouch. When was that?”

“Let me think. You were a senior, so ten years ago. They lived in Great Falls. The girls were in college. He’s kept in close touch with them ever since.”

“Then this could be about giving his niece a boost instead of him needing a hand.”

“Possibly. I don’t know all the details, but Zinnia has a—” At the sound of a truck, she paused to glance toward the road. “That’ll be them.”

“Yep.” Seconds later a four-door pickup with a deluxe red paint job appeared around the bend. It cruised slowly down the rain-dampened dirt road, its grill shining in the sun. “Looks like he doesn’t want to get mud on his fancy truck.”

His mom laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day when he worried about that.”

“I still can’t believe he bought a bright red one.”

“He blames it on a mid-life crisis.”

“Oh? Do you think he’ll start dating?”

“Huh.” His mom paused. “I didn’t think of that, but maybe. When Adele left he said he was through with women, but I guess anything’s possible.”

Monty heaved a sigh of relief. When he’d been obsessing about Graham’s decision to cut back, he hadn’t taken the new truck into account. He should have. A dying man wouldn’t buy himself a lipstick-red Cowboy Cadillac.

But if that man had healed from a nasty divorce and hankered for some company, he might decide a snazzy new truck was in order.

By the time Graham had backed into his usual spot near the barn, Monty’s headache was gone. He and his mom walked toward the truck as Graham hopped out with his usual vigor and rounded the hood.

He didn’t look the least bit sick. The guy was in his prime, still in good shape….

Uh-oh. Speaking of good shape….

Zinnia.

Her descent from the passenger side put pressure on his eyeballs and glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He’d never been face-to-face with a more voluptuous woman, especially one wearing steel-toed boots.

She’d chosen the same kind of outfit as her uncle—plaid long-sleeved shirt tucked into sturdy jeans and a baseball cap tugged low over her eyes.

But the clothes he’d seen Graham wear hundreds of times produced a totally different effect on an hour-glass figure that nearly brought him to his knees. Holy moly.

She was tall, at least five-ten in those boots, and she moved with the grace of an athlete. Toned muscles flexed beneath her shirt and jeans as she came toward him. His dazed brain processed her stride in slow motion so he wouldn’t miss a thing.

Was he already mentally undressing her? Seemed like it. She’d pulled her blonde curly hair through the back of her Anvil Brand cap. Hoping she hadn’t noticed him ogling, he focused on her ponytail swinging in time with each step.

He itched to tug off that cap and set those ringlets free. Then he’d—

Stop it, dumbass! Look her in the eye.

But the hat brim shaded her eyes. He was forced to concentrate on her smiling lips—pale pink, plump and extremely kissable. Near as he could tell, she wore no makeup.

She and her uncle stopped a few feet away and Graham started making introductions.

Monty’s nostrils flared as he breathed in the scent of citrus blended with freshly washed cotton. And something else, a subtle aroma that sent a message straight to his privates. He was in big trouble.

Thank God her attention was on his mother. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the hot mess she’d created in his body. Then she glanced his way, laughter dancing in green eyes the color of a willow in spring.

Busted. Heat rose from the collar of his shirt and his jacket became uncomfortably warm.

What was wrong with him? This wasn’t his first rodeo. He’d never ever laid eyes on a woman he’d just met and instantly imagined taking her to bed.

Until now. Until Zinnia. Graham could’ve warned him. No, he couldn’t have. That would have been creepy.

He’d have to own his reaction. Nothing about her dress or manner was deliberately seductive. That was a blessing. One sultry look from her and he’d likely lose what was left of his mind.

She shook hands with his mom. “I can’t believe I’m finally here. Uncle Graham’s talked about you and the Bridger Bunch for years.”

“I hope he didn’t oversell us.”

“No worries, Raquel.” Graham chuckled. “I’ve been around too long for that. I know you’re not perfect, but you’re damn good people.”

“Thanks. So are you. Welcome to Laughing Creek, Zinnia. Monty and I look forward to working with you.”

“Absolutely.” Monty had used the time to covertly wipe his sweaty palm on his jacket. “Nice to meet you, Zinnia.” He offered his hand and hoped for the best.

“Nice to meet you, Monty.” Her gaze was steady and her grasp was firm. No moisture. “Is Monty short for Montana?”

“No, ma’am. Montgomery.”

“Ah. I hear you’re a good vet.”

“I do my best.” He let go of her, but it took effort. Her touch was magnetic. He wanted to grab hold and never let go. He wanted—

“I’m in need of a good vet.”

“You are?” Wincing at the eager lilt in his voice, he cleared his throat. “You have a horse?” Great question. Of course she does, genius.

“A pregnant mare. According to my vet in Great Falls, she’s due any day. It’s her first foal. Trailering her down here was a risk but we made it without incident. And now I need—”

“Of course.” He jumped in, then took a breath. “Sorry. What would you like me to do?”

“If you’d drop by and check on her, that would be wonderful. Uncle Graham calls you Supervet.”

“It’s a joke.”

Graham laughed. “Not really.”

“Anyway, I think she’s close, but I’d like an expert opinion.”

And he was way too eager to give it. He did his best to sound nonchalant. “I might be able to take a look this afternoon, depending on your schedule.” Yeah, not nonchalant. But come on — a gorgeous woman and a mare ready to foal? Kryptonite.

“This is our only gig today so after we’re done, it would be great if you could come over. I understand you mostly work with Laughing Creek horses, and I will contact the other vet in town if you’re too busy to take her on as a patient, but—”

“I’ll be glad to help. I can work her in.” His mom was watching him with interest. Naturally she was. He might as well have painted his intentions on his forehead.

“Awesome. Uncle Graham thought you might make an exception for Speckles since you also do the wellness checks on his horses as a special favor.”

“Is Speckles an Appaloosa?”

She nodded. “Leopard Appy. She’s a sweetie. I really appreciate this, and to be clear, I’m paying you.”

No, she wasn’t, but he wouldn’t say that now. “Okay, but let’s discuss the details later. The horses heard you drive up and they’re getting antsy. Ready to meet them?”

“Can’t wait.”

“I need to excuse myself from the walk-through today,” his mom said. “Adam and I have something to discuss before he heads into town. Monty, would you come on up when you’re done? We could use your input, too.”

“Will do.”

“Oh, and Graham.” She turned in his direction. “Can you guys stay for lunch? I was planning on it since we always do that, but if you and Zinnia—”

“Lunch would be fantastic. Theoretically we’ll finish earlier with two of us, but I’ll be giving Zin additional background as we go along. I’m guessing we’ll be done around one or one-thirty.”

“Okay, then. Text me when you’re winding up and I’ll get things started.”

He grinned. “I’ll call you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I keep forgetting you’re stuck in the Stone Age.”

Monty swallowed a laugh. His dad used to tease Graham about this. Evidently his mom had taken up the cause.

“It’s impersonal.”

“Practical.”

“My fingers are too big for those itty-bitty keys.”

“My boys manage it.”

“They’re young. More flexible fingers.”

“Spence managed it.”

“That man could’ve made the sun stand still if he’d put his mind to it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not Spence. I’ll call you.”

She sighed. “And I could be up to my elbows in something or other and can’t answer.”

“I’ll leave you a message. I don’t need my fingers for that.”

“Eres muy terco, Graham Harrison.”

“That’s what makes me special.”

That earned him a chuckle. “See you and Zinnia for lunch.”

After his mom left, Monty led the way to the barn for the traditional walk-through. Graham liked to start that way, particularly in the spring when he hadn’t seen the horses for almost three months. In the past, Monty’s dad had accompanied him.

Now it was Monty’s job, and this time the extremely tantalizing Zinnia would be making the rounds with them. He prayed that the familiar routine would override his current attack of lust.

“I’ve been so curious about this barn.” Zinnia paused before the open doors. “My uncle told me your sister and brother-in-law have an apartment in the hayloft.” She glanced up at the solid panel that covered what used to be the hayloft doors.

“They sure do. Did Graham tell you about the Beaver Bunch?”

“He did! Those little critters sound awesome. Like something out of Disneyland.”

“Exactly what I thought when I first saw them on New Year’s Day.” Monty latched onto a safe topic. “Cole hits a switch, a platform rotates and out pop three animatronic beavers playing music.”

“That must be amazing.”

“You know what? We’ll be having a party Saturday night and they’ll be on display. You should come out. Both of you.” Good thing he remembered to add Graham to the invite.

“That sounds like fun. What’s the occasion?”

“My birthday, but please don’t bring a gift.” He hadn’t thought of that and certainly didn’t want them to feel obligated. “Just yourselves.”

“Since my uncle’s known you for so long, I’m sure we can come up with an idea.” She hesitated. “Would it be okay if I brought Tex?”

Did she have a husband? His dreams of using the party as a chance to get to know her better evaporated. “Sure. Is he your—”

“He’s my son.”

He blinked. She had a kid?

“He just turned five. I promise he’ll behave himself, but if this is an adults-only party, then….”

“Tex is certainly welcome. By all means bring him. He’ll love the Beaver Bunch.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a warm smile. “He also loves birthday parties.”

“Me, too.” And he had some thinking to do. He shouldn’t be surprised she had a kid. Many of his friends had them and she was a couple years older, around his brother Luis’s age. Luis and Jordan were expecting their first baby in July.

Evidently Tex’s dad wasn’t on the scene. But a five-year-old sure did complicate the picture. Could be confusing for that little guy, maybe even disruptive.

Because of that she might not be looking for a relationship. Even if she’d consider it, was he up to that kind of challenge? He’d better decide before he issued any more invitations or entertained any more fantasies.

He’d never even contemplated marriage, let alone fatherhood. His body might want her, but his brain told him to take a step back.