Montana Promises Read online

Megan stuck out her chin. “Maybe.”

  “And he’s seriously hot, and any other time you would have totally taken him up on that. Because you just know he knows how to use those luscious lips, right?”

  Brooke could be so dramatic sometimes. But she had a point.

  “I have no doubt that he knows how to use those lips.” She’d had that very thought on more than one occasion the night before.

  “Then why didn’t you kiss him?”

  “I didn’t say that I hadn’t.”

  “You also didn’t say that you had.” She picked up Megan’s empty glass and went to the kitchen to refill it. “You didn’t kiss him because you were thinking about Nate. Am I right?”

  Megan scratched at a spot on the tabletop. “Not entirely.”

  Brooke shot her a look.

  “Fine. That’s why I didn’t kiss him. Are you happy?”

  “Are you going to go out with him again?”

  Megan answered by way of a shrug.

  “Are you going to kiss Nate again if he decides he wants to?”

  Another shrug, and this time she turned her head and looked away.

  “Do I need to buy you new batteries for your vibrator to get you through this?”

  “What?” She turned back. “No! I’m . . .” She let out a heavy sigh, then gritted out, “I have batteries, thankyouverymuch.”

  Brooke’s laughter echoed through the space, and once again, Megan turned her head away. She knew she was acting childish, but Brooke seemed to think the whole situation was hilarious. And Megan didn’t see it that way.

  Brooke brought another mimosa over to the table, with a freshened one for herself as well, but instead of sitting back down, she moved over toward the windows that lined the garage door. The garage door was actually the original door that had been used when the building was a fire hall, and though it led from the outside directly into the dining area, the man who’d renovated the building had kept it intact as part of the building’s charm.

  “Oh!” Brooke suddenly exclaimed. “There’s the awesome threesome.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Megan stood to look out the windows and made out Erica, Maggie Crowder, and Arsula standing on Erica’s front porch. “Oh, yeah. They’ve become really good friends.” Megan had seen Maggie and Arsula next door several times since she’d moved in.

  “We should invite them over.” Brooke headed toward the door. “Get their take on this thing with Nate.”

  “What?” Megan whirled to stop her friend. “Brooke! No.”

  But it was too late. The front door had already been opened. “Hey, ladies!” Brooke waved, and Megan watched through the windows as all three waved back, smiles lighting up their faces. Brooke held up her freshly poured mimosa. “Come over if you’re not in a hurry to get somewhere. We’re having a girls’ morning. With mimosas!”

  “Oh!” Arsula was the first to head their way. “I love mimosas.”

  “Brooke!” Megan hissed, but the other woman ignored her, and the next thing Megan knew, her place was filled with women. Brooke moved back to the fridge to pull out the champagne and orange juice, and chatter quickly filled the room.

  “So, what are you three up to?” Megan crossed to the kitchen, doing her best to shoot daggers at Brooke.

  “We’re heading out to the orchard,” Erica explained, and over the top of her head, Brooke waggled her eyebrows at Megan. “The guys got the updates done to the bedroom and bathroom yesterday, so we’re going out to take inventory of things and see what other prettying up we can do. Then we’re going shopping.”

  “Oh, you should come with us.” That came from Arsula as she turned to Megan. “Nate said you’re helping with the cabins. And from the work you did on my website, I know for a fact how great your eye is for colors and space.”

  “Did Nate say anything else about her?” Brooke blurted out, and as she pulled down three more champagne flutes, the other three turned to her.

  “Say anything like what?” Arsula seemed confused.

  “Like nothing,” Megan assured them. “Brooke is just being weird today. And she’s not at all funny.”

  She shot her friend a look that promised swift and fast retribution if she brought up Nate’s name again, and as Brooke ignored her look and started pouring champagne into the first glass, Erica held up her hand. “Just give me orange juice, if you don’t mind.”

  Brooke paused with the champagne bottle tilted over the second flute. “You’re sure?”

  Arsula snorted. “No alcohol? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  The room went quiet, and all eyes turned to Erica.

  “No.” She shook her head, her gaze bouncing to each one of them. “Of course not. I’m just driving. And I’m a schoolteacher. I can’t risk getting pulled over and have someone smell alcohol on me.”

  “Good point,” Maggie agreed. She nodded toward the glasses. “I’ll just have orange juice, too. In school-teacher solidarity.”

  Again, silence prevailed, and this time Arsula looked Maggie up and down. “You’re not pregnant, too, are you?”

  “Of course I’m not.”

  “And I didn’t say that I was pregnant,” Erica pointed out.

  “Well, you two do what you want.” Arsula made a face. “But I’m having a mimosa. And I’m certainly not getting pregnant anytime soon, so maybe I’ll have the ones for you two, as well.”

  After the drinks were poured, talk turned to men. Specifically, the men Nate had brought in to help build the cabins. Megan knew he’d been trying to keep the work going on out there quiet, but with a slew of hot guys like that traipsing all over town, word had quickly spread.

  “I’ve met them,” she announced with a grin.

  “She went out with one of them last night.” Brooked waggled her brows again.

  “Really?” Maggie swiveled on her barstool. “Which one?”

  Anticipation peered back from all three of them, and Megan pulled up a mental visual of Dre. “I went to the club with Dre. He’s an ex-football player from Penn State who’s about as big as he is hot.”

  “Which is a lot,” Brooke added, and all three of the other women groaned. Megan laughed, enjoying the moment, and—assuming Brooke continued to keep her mouth shut about Nate—she was glad Brooke had invited the women over.

  The conversation eventually made it back to Max. Megan had been out to visit him again the weekend before, and she knew he still hoped to come home at the end of the week. She turned to Erica. “How’s his progress been this week?”

  “Surprisingly well. I was out there yesterday, and his therapy is really kicking in. They’ve got him moving around far more than I would have expected by now, but”—her voice softened—“he did have a hallucination while I was there. They still seem to be an issue, but from what I understand, Doctor Hamm and Cord have been in close contact with the specialist, and they still have a couple of other options to investigate. They’re thinking it’s mostly due to his medication.”

  Maggie had choked on her orange juice the instant Erica had mentioned Cord, and she now waved a hand in front of herself as she coughed. Once she had herself back under control, she pushed the glass away. “Ummm”—she cleared her throat again before continuing—“Cord isn’t going to be at the house today, is he?”

  Megan looked at Brooke. Did Maggie have a thing for Cord?

  “No,” Erica assured her. “I wouldn’t be taking you out there if he was.”

  The three of them laughed, and then Arsula explained that Maggie had long carried the hots for the brother with the reputation as the biggest player.

  “I told you before that he has too much baggage for you.” Arsula frowned at her friend.

  “You’ve told me a lot of things before,” Maggie countered.

  “And most of it has come true,” Erica pointed out. Which was very accurate. Arsula was the reason Megan had broken up with Jaden in the first place. Megan had been having dreams that left her with strong feelings of unease, a
nd when she’d talked to Arsula about them, the other woman had suggested her dreams expressed worry about the man she was with. Arsula hadn’t met Jaden at that point, but she’d been spot on in her reading.

  The three of them finished their drinks, and afterward, Megan and Brooke followed them to the door. As they crossed the road, Brooke leaned in and muttered, “Maybe you should get Arsula’s advice on you and Nate.”

  “Shhhh.” Geez, the last thing she needed was for any of them to overhear.

  But it was too late. Arsula had turned back. “You and Nate?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “The smell of this pot roast is one of the best things that’s happened to me in a long time,” Nate’s dad announced as he scooped up another bite of the roast and potatoes. “Aside from getting sprung today, that is.”

  Everyone around the table laughed.

  “Your dad sure has missed good home cooking,” Gloria added.

  “And we’ve sure missed Dad,” Dani said. She reached to her right and gave Gloria a quick side-hug. “We’ve missed you, too, Gloria.”

  “Thank you, dear. The feeling is mutual.”

  It was Saturday evening, four and a half weeks since his dad had transferred from the hospital to the extended-stay patient rehab center, and just getting him out of the car and into the house earlier that afternoon had been like a carefully orchestrated chess match. The entire family had been there waiting when Cord arrived with him and Gloria, and afterward, Nate and his brothers had cooked the meal while their dad napped. The women had jumped into the fray, as well, allowing Gloria to take a much-deserved rest with her feet up. They’d pulled enough extra chairs and card tables together to fit everyone in the kitchen for dinner, while the two seven-year-olds had entertained baby Mia. It had been a busy, chaotic, wonderful afternoon. The kind that Nate would sorely miss when his time here was up.

  “We’re going to need to buy a larger table before the next time we get together, though.”

  “Your dad and I have already been talking about that. I plan to start shopping next week.”

  The sounds of fourteen family members enjoying a meal and time spent together eased some of the tension that had built in Nate’s back and shoulders since he’d gotten out of bed that morning, and he pulled in a deep breath before slowly blowing it out. Dani was right. They’d sure missed their dad. He’d missed his dad.

  And he should have been visiting him these last few weeks.

  “Tell me more about these cabins being built,” his dad said from the end of the table. “Got any pictures of them yet?”

  “Absolutely.” Nate pulled out his phone and brought up the latest pictures, then passed the phone down the table. “I’ll drive you out there tomorrow and let you see for yourself . . . if you want to.”

  “If I’m not napping all day, you mean.” His dad grunted, the new lines that had carved into his face over the last couple of months pulling his features downward. “I nap like a baby these days,” he grumbled.

  “You’re still healing, Max.” Gloria’s tone was soft but firm.

  “Healing, smealing. I’m ready to get back to work.”

  There was a brief pause as all the other adults at the table seemed to quit breathing due to surprise at the words that had just come out of his mouth, and then Nate spoke for all of them. “Your working days might be over, Dad. It’s time for you to go back into retirement.”

  “Malarky.” His dad waved his fork in the air. “Once I get my prosthetic—”

  “Which will be a while,” Cord interjected.

  “True. But once I get it, I’ll be good as new. And speaking of new”—he glanced at Gabe and then on down the table to Nick—“the cherries will start coming in soon. Has anyone sprayed the trees yet?”

  It irritated Nate that his dad hadn’t asked him since he was the one living at the place. He didn’t let that show, though. “I took care of it earlier this week, Dad.”

  Once a full account had been taken of the trees that hadn’t been too damaged or killed outright, what they’d ended up with were three decent-sized fields situated on the front side of their land, with the rest of the remaining viable trees scattered around the rest of the property.

  “Good deal.” His dad nodded. “We’ll wait and replant in the fall, of course.”

  “Or . . .” Nate drew out the word, and his dad turned his head and looked at him. They’d shared the plans for the cabins, but they’d decided to wait on filling him in on everything else. On the decision to hold off until the changes were completed before reevaluating their next step.

  “Or, what?” his dad asked. “The place is going to need more trees. The cabins are an excellent idea, but ten cabins won’t take up the space needed for the number of trees that had to come down.”

  Gabe spoke up from where he sat directly across from Nate. “We’ll decide later this year on whether to replant or not.”

  “I’ve already decided.”

  “Okay, Dad,” Dani said. She sat two seats down from Gabe with her six-month-old daughter in her lap.

  “Don’t pacify me, Dani girl. I may be down a leg, but I’m not out of the game yet.”

  “That’s just the thing,” Nate spoke up. “We shouldn’t have ever asked you to get back into the game. You shouldn’t have had to take the orchard back over. It was our responsibility.”

  “Bullshit,” his dad spit out, and then looked mollified when Jenna’s and Haley’s eyes rounded in surprise at the bad word said at the dinner table. “Sorry, girls,” his dad mumbled. He then went on, “If you all can remember, none of you asked me to take it back over. I offered.”

  “And we’ve enjoyed doing it,” Gloria added.

  “That’s right. And we’ve done an excellent job.” Their dad wore a mulish expression as he looked at Nate and each of his siblings, but then the lines in his face eased. “And anyway . . .” He lifted his glass of milk for a drink, his throat convulsively swallowing as if trying to down the whole thing. Once finished, he seemed to focus on what remained of the platter of roast sitting in the middle of the table. “It was my own selfishness that forced it to be your responsibilities to begin with.”

  Nick’s fork clattered as it dropped to his plate. “What are you talking about?”

  The rest of them wore similar expressions of shock, and their dad slowly lifted his gaze. “Come on,” he said. “You know I wasn’t that old. I didn’t have to retire. I could have—and I should have—kept running the farm for years to come.”

  “But it was an honor for you to deed it to us,” Gabe announced.

  No one else said anything. Instead, everyone was probably doing the same as Nate and sinking into their own early memories of resentment at being saddled with a place that held such bad memories. Forks poked at the food on plates, eyes shifted, but no one really looked at anyone.

  Finally, their dad said, “That the story you’re sticking with, son?”

  “It was an honor,” Gabe defended, though the earlier heat from his words had dissipated.

  “As well as a burden,” their dad added. And still, no one else said anything. “And I get that. And I’m sorry about that. I . . .” When he paused, Gloria reached over and took his hand, and the encouraging nod she gave him made Nate wonder what having that kind of support would be like.

  And that made him think of Megan. She’d put her hand over his in a similar fashion when they’d been looking at the tree his dad ran into. And it had felt good to have her holding his hand like that.

  He hadn’t spoken with or seen anything from her in seven days now. Not since he’d practically stripped her naked at her place. He’d been too busy with the cabins and spraying the remaining cherry trees. And anyway, he wouldn’t have known what to say.

  “I didn’t want the place anymore,” his dad abruptly blurted out, pulling Nate’s attention back to the present, and at the statement, everyone gave up pretending to pick at their food. “I had my own bad memories associated with this house,�
�� he went on. “With the orchard. Your mother . . .”

  “We know what she was like, Dad,” Nick said.

  “I know you do. And I know she made everyone’s life difficult.” His dad glanced down at his lap then, seeming to try to pull himself together, and Nate watched as Gloria’s hand squeezed his even tighter. “But I added to the problem by not being there for you all the way I should have. By worrying about me first.” He forced his chin to lift, and he turned his gaze on Dani. “Dani girl and I have worked out a lot of our issues, and truth be known, we’ll probably be working on them for the rest of my life.”

  “We’re good, Dad,” Dani assured him.

  “We’re better,” he corrected. “But we’ll also keep making sure of that.” He took in the rest of them. “But I’ve never fully addressed my shortcomings with you boys.” He looked at Gabe. “Gabe had to come home and run the place.”

  “I was glad to do it, Dad.”

  “And you did a good job. But I shouldn’t have put that on you. You’re in a field you love now, and I’m grateful for it. You just should have been able to do that the first go-round in school.”

  The uncomfortableness in the room intensified. It was as if his dad were giving an I’m-dying speech, and Nate was quite certain none of them wanted to hear it. At the same time, no one attempted to stop him. Because the things he seemed to want to get off his chest probably should have been said years ago.

  “You boys were only ten back then.” He spanned the length of the tables to Nick. “I’m sure if I’d been a better father—”

  “Dad,” Nick interrupted him. “You’re a great father.”

  “No. I could have been better. And we all know it.”

  He turned his attention to Jaden, and Jaden’s body language screamed that he wasn’t comfortable in the moment at all. Which was odd because this was Jaden’s forte. If any of them liked to talk out past hurts and how to soothe them, it was him.

  “I should have been there for you after your mother died, Jay.” He took in Nick and Nate, as well. “For all three of you. Gabe and Cord were practically grown. They didn’t need a heavy hand. But you boys needed a parent. I’ll always be thankful that Dani came home and took so much of that on for me, but I do regret my failings there.”