Montana Hearts: Her Weekend Wrangler Read online

  Dedication

  For Joe, Samantha, Robert, and Jason,

  and to Joseph and Rose Panzera for all they do for others.

  This one’s for you!

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  By Darlene Panzera

  An Excerpt from The Bride Wore Red Boots by Lizbeth Selvig

  An Excerpt from Rescued by the Ranger by Dixie Lee Brown

  An Excerpt from One Scandalous Kiss by Christy Carlyle

  An Excerpt from Dirty Talk by Megan Erickson

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  “ ‘BEST WISHES FOR a speedy recovery, you redneck rascal!’ ” Bree Collins snorted, slapped the greeting card back onto the display rack, and picked up another. “ ‘Sending up heartfelt prayers that you’ll get well soon.’ ” She shook her head and tried one more. “ ‘Dearest Father . . .’ ”

  Definitely not that one.

  What was with these cards anyway? They were inscribed with messages that were either too personal, too distant, or completely inappropriate. Maybe she should get her “dear ole dad” a gift instead.

  Glancing around the Fox Creek General Store, decorated country-­western style for the tourists, Bree spied a rickety old wooden bookcase. A book would be better than a game of marbles, a stuffed jack-­a-­lope, or a “Welcome to Montana” mug. Her father could read while his injuries healed.

  Except she had no idea what kind of stories he liked. She and her father had never been close. And he’d never had much time to read while running the family’s twenty-­four-­cabin guest ranch. But now? He’d have to find something to do while he recovered or he’d drive her mother and grandma crazy. Maybe he’d like a volume of crossword puzzles?

  She walked over and tugged on Puzzles and Games, a newer book wedged tightly between the thick, dusty jackets of The Secret History of Yellowstone Country and Ranching Ain’t What It Used to Be. And the entire bookcase leaned toward her.

  Catching the frame of the shelves with her hands, she spun around, and used her body weight to shove the burdensome book beast back into position. But every time she stepped away, the case threatened to fall. Somehow the bottom had become unbalanced. She glanced at the clerk behind the counter and opened her mouth to call for help. Then Ryan Tanner walked toward her and she involuntarily jumped in place.

  They’d grown up together, riding the same school bus and sharing the same classes day after day right up through the twelfth grade. But after high school she’d relocated to New York to attend college. Then she put her business degree and love of fashion together to snatch the assistant managerial position at the Manhattan branch of Silvain’s, a national fashion retail conglomerate that specialized in hip clothing and accessories. Over the years she’d run into Ryan only briefly during her occasional visits home.

  And she had no desire to see him now.

  Ryan was the kind of guy a girl dreamed about but could never have. At least, not exclusively. He was a charmer who took the opportunity to flirt with every female he met. And he’d tried to charm her the night of their high school senior prom, the night her horse died, in an attempt to delay her from getting home too soon . . . and saying goodbye.

  Of course, they were adults now, both almost twenty-­seven, she with her glowing résumé and he with a seven-­year-­old son. She thought she’d forgiven him and let bygones be bygones.

  She was wrong.

  RYAN TANNER HAD finished paying for the floral bouquet tucked under his arm and was headed toward the exit when he noticed her. He’d heard Jed Collins had taken a nasty fall off his horse the day before, planting him in the hospital. But if Bree was back in Fox Creek, well, then, her father’s condition must be serious. He stole a look at her beautiful face, took another few steps toward the door, then stopped.

  It wasn’t the need to offer condolences that made him turn back around. Everyone knew Bree and her two younger siblings, Luke and Delaney, didn’t get on well with their dad. No, it was the doubt he saw flickering in her eyes that unsettled him. Bree was one of the most confident, capable, career-­oriented women he’d ever met. What could have happened to make her change? Had Jed’s condition taken a turn for the worse?

  He thought he should at least give her a quick hello. For old times’ sake. Not that they’d ever been best of friends or dated, although . . . he wished they had. Just once. Before worldly ambitions drove her away to the farthest reaches of the country to pursue her glamorous career.

  Ryan tipped his straw Stetson in greeting as he approached. “Brianna Lee Collins, back from the big city?”

  She hadn’t seen him coming until he was just a few feet away. Startled, she practically jumped right out of her boots, and the bookcase behind her wobbled. Ryan bolted forward, ready to offer assistance, but then she leaned back, pushing it upright, and smiled. “Just visiting.”

  He nodded to the blue hard-­shell suitcase by her feet. “You haven’t been home yet?”

  She shook her head. “I took a cab from the airport. Luke’s coming by bus and Delaney flew in last night. She’s picking us up so we can meet my ma and grandma at the hospital and go in to see my father together.”

  Bree’s honey-­brown hair was shorter, just past her shoulders instead of the waist length he remembered. And in the past she’d always worn beaded earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings, but today she wore no jewelry. Even her plain, white sleeveless blouse and jeans were different from the sparkly clothes she used to wear. And yet, she was still just as beautiful. Maybe even more so.

  She gave him a quizzical look, and with a jolt, he realized he was staring.

  Bree nodded toward the flowers. “Hot date?”

  He grinned. “Something like that.”

  Then he switched the cream-­colored rose bouquet from one hand to the other and the crinkle from the cellophane wrapper filled the awkward silence. He knew he should go, but didn’t want to. Not yet.

  Ryan cleared his throat and asked, “How is your dad?”

  “Ma says his condition is stable. Scans showed some brain-­swelling, so the doctors put him into an induced coma for a few days. But they think—­”

  Her shoulder slid down a notch and . . . so did the bookcase. A ­couple of books from the highest shelf flew past her head and hit the hardwood floor with a thump.

  Ryan stepped closer. “Need help?”

  Bree’s gaze shot to the top of the teetering case. “Nope.” She gave him another smile. “I’ve got it.”

  She sure did. He could see now it was her body holding the bookcase up. The thing moved every time she did, which meant—­Bree was trapped. But one would never know it from her expression or from her calm, upbeat tone.

  Yep, instead of accepting his help, Bree Collins held up the heavy monstrosity and stood there smiling as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He swallowed a laugh and grinned. He doubted Bree would ever admit she needed anyone. He’d heard from mutual friends she was a top dog in the corporate world and no doubt it was that “I’ve got it” attitude that led to her succe
ss. However, he wasn’t the type to leave a damsel in distress. Whether she wanted his help or not.

  Tossing the bouquet aside, he reached forward to place an arm on either side of her to steady the unit, and Bree yelled, “Close enough, Tanner!”

  His face just a foot away from her own, he looked straight into her dark sapphire eyes. “What did you think I was going to do, kiss you?”

  She lifted a brow. “Don’t you kiss all the girls?”

  He dipped his gaze toward her soft pink lips and he lowered his head even closer. “For your information, darlin’, ” he drawled, “I save my kisses only for the best.”

  That got her attention. She gasped, her mouth forming a perfect O.

  “Now duck,” he instructed.

  “What?”

  “I’ll hold up the bookcase while you duck under my arm and get out of there.”

  She locked gazes with him for a fraction of a second, then brushed her head against him as she moved under his arm to escape her awkward position. Her hair was so silky soft it tickled and sent a jolt of awareness coursing through him. And as she stood up on the other side, her eyes widened as if she, too, had been uncomfortably aware of their close proximity.

  He waited until she’d stepped back a safe distance, then rocked the shelves until a marble rolled out from beneath the bottom of the unit.

  She gasped. “No wonder I couldn’t get it to stay up.”

  Ryan retrieved the flowers he’d intended to give his aunt, and to prove he was a true gentleman, and not the kiss-­’em and leave-­’em cowboy Bree implied, he handed the roses over to her with a mock bow. “If you needed help, all you had to do was ask.”

  To his satisfaction he didn’t think he ever remembered Bree looking so flustered.

  “I—­” Her mouth formed that tantalizing O again. “I suppose I should thank you.”

  He waited, and when she didn’t say anything he prompted her with a wink.

  Just when he thought he’d seen it all, Bree blushed. “Thank you, Ryan.”

  He tipped his hat and grinned. “Nice to see you, Bree.”

  Then he took his departure, finally heading in the right direction—­toward his son, who licked an ice cream cone and stood waiting for him by the door.

  BREE’S FACE CONTINUED to flame as she stared at the father and son duo. Cody looked just like Ryan, same brown hair and brown eyes. She’d never met him, but her friend Sammy Jo kept her updated on all the local info and had sent her a picture when he was a baby. Now seven years old, he was a solid, sturdy, little boy. With that same heart-­melting grin.

  She raised the delicate bouquet of cream-­colored roses to her nose and their beautiful fragrant scent took her back to her teens, a time when she’d been a starry-­eyed, hopeful romantic with endless possibilities for the future spread out before her.

  No man had made her feel that way in a long time, certainly not her two-­timing ex-­boyfriend she’d left behind in New York. He’d been a charmer, too . . . and had hurt her almost as much. Yes, she was through with romantic relationships. At least for a while. She needed to find a new job now that she’d been unexpectedly cut—­one of the dangers of dating the boss. And handsome, knock-­your-­socks-­off charmers like Ryan Tanner would be strictly off-­limits.

  Bree waited a good ten minutes to make sure he was gone before she left the store. She’d had every intention of asking for help with the bookcase—­but she would not ask for help from a Tanner, especially Ryan. She’d had enough of his kind of “help.”

  Besides, she’d once heard him say to another, “Bree Collins isn’t worth my time.” If he didn’t think she was worth his time, then she certainly wasn’t going to trouble him or allow him to tarry any longer than necessary on her account.

  She rubbed a hand down each of her arms, soothing her sore muscles. Then she realized she’d been so disturbed by Ryan and the wobbly bookcase that she’d forgotten to buy her father a gift. She glanced at the flowers in her hand. They would do.

  Outside, she scanned the single street running through the mite-­sized Montana town for a sign of her siblings. She glanced at her watch and a few minutes later her slender, blond sister pulled up to the curb in a red, paint-­peeled pickup truck.

  “Bree!” Delaney’s face broke into a huge smile as she jumped out of the driver’s side and ran around the front to give her a big hug. “It’s been too long.”

  Bree smiled and, despite the too-­tight squeeze, fiercely hugged her younger sister back. Then she choked out, “Del, I can’t breathe.”

  “Sorry.” Delaney loosened her grip and laughed. “Didn’t mean to strangle you.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Bree teased, and laughed along with her. It had been too long. Almost an entire year. She glanced back at the truck. “Where’s the baby?”

  “No baby,” Delaney said, opening the side door and helping her daughter out. “She’s two and a half, a ‘big girl’ if you ask her.”

  Meghan, wearing a pretty strawberry print sundress, nodded and pointed to herself. She looked a lot like Delaney. Same fair hair, skin, and sprinkling of freckles across the nose.

  “Look how you’ve grown.” Bree dropped to her knees beside the little girl, wishing she’d bought a gift for her as well. “Meghan, do you remember me?”

  Meghan shook her head, making her blond ponytails swing back and forth, and wrapped her arms tight around her mother’s leg.

  “How could she?” Delaney asked with an amused grin. “She was only eighteen months old the last time she saw you.”

  “She saw me a week ago on Skype.”

  “Images through the computer aren’t the same.”

  No, they weren’t. Bree bit down on her lip. She should have purchased an airline ticket to see her niece sooner. Instead, she’d let her crazy busy work schedule get in the way.

  “And Steve? Where’s he? Couldn’t your husband get off work?”

  Her sister shook her head, the laughter fading from her eyes. “He didn’t come.”

  “Why not?”

  Delaney shrugged and Bree suspected there was something her sister wasn’t telling her, but they would have time to talk later. Right now a bus approached and the rumble of the motor drowned out all other sound.

  The bus let out a loud swoosh as the door opened to let off passengers. One of them was their brother, Luke, the middle child of the family, a year younger than Bree and two years older than Delaney. Luke spotted them, and slowly crossed the street, hobbling along with the help of what looked to be a hand-­carved wooden cane.

  “Did you know Luke was hurt?” Bree hissed in a sharp whisper.

  Delaney gasped. “No. I—­I didn’t.”

  Not waiting for him to reach them, Bree asked, “What happened?”

  “Motorcycle accident,” he replied, taking the last few steps. “Right after I got out of the army.”

  “Last July? That was ten months ago,” Delaney accused. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d been hurt?”

  “What, this?” Luke leaned on his good foot and lifted his injured leg. “This is just a scratch. I took more of a beating in Iraq.” He gave them a look that said he really didn’t want to talk about it and shrugged. “I figured no sense worrying anyone.”

  Bree poked a finger into his chest. “Ma’s going to be mad that you didn’t tell her. Grandma, too.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Luke’s jaw tightened. “But what’s done is done.”

  Bree knew that feeling. To lighten the mood, she teased, “You can’t use that short hiking stick as an excuse not to give us a proper greeting. Come here, you.”

  Luke didn’t chortle with laughter like he did back in the days before they’d each left home, but he did give her a quick grin, even if it did seem forced. “How about a high five?”

  Bree slapped the palm he raised like they
’d always done and her heart eased.

  Luke gave Delaney a high five next and then his gaze drifted to the little girl still clinging to her mother’s knee. “Would you like a high five, too?”

  Meghan hesitated, then a smile stole across her face, puckering her cheeks. “High five!”

  “She talks?” Luke asked as they watched their niece reach a stubby hand in the air to meet his.

  “Meghan’s using short sentences and learning more words each day,” Delaney informed them. “Giving high fives is one of her favorite games.”

  “Mine, too,” Luke agreed. “It’s one of the things I can still do.”

  Bree noticed he still wore his dog tags around his neck. And his honey-­brown hair, a shade darker than her own, wasn’t the short, military cut she remembered. Now it fell down over his forehead in an unruly shag that was sure to send Ma running for the scissors. He also appeared thinner than she’d last seen him. Grandma would take that as a challenge to fatten him up with homemade breads and meat pies.

  They hadn’t seen each other for almost a year, not since they all came home last June for her birthday. Afterward Luke got out of the ser­vice and went to Florida to live on a boat and do odd jobs. She’d flown back to New York, and Delaney and Meghan had relocated with Steve to California. They’d still kept in touch through phone calls and Skype. But when had they lost touch so much that they’d started keeping secrets from one another?

  She glanced at Luke’s cane again. Did he think she wouldn’t care? Or wouldn’t understand? Before she could question him further, Luke pointed to Delaney’s barren ring finger and asked, “Where’s Steve?”

  Bree gasped. She’d been so caught up in their hug and seeing Meghan again, and Luke, that she hadn’t noticed. Now her sister had her full attention.