Montana Promises Read online

  Jaden stared back at their dad, as if unsure what to say. And then Arsula reached over and took his hand. “You’ve never said anything like that before,” Jay finally forced out.

  “That’s the point of this speech, son. To say the things I never have. To clear my conscience.” He looked around at all of them again, also taking in the two granddaughters who’d gone quiet along with the rest of them and had been listening with rapt attention. “I almost died a few weeks ago. Right out there on the land I love. And that wasn’t lost on me. I almost died because I was too damned proud to let my own family know what was going on with my health. I didn’t want any of you to feel like you needed to help out since I’d already dumped it on you once, so I kept my mouth shut. But because of that I almost died. And I would have missed out on seeing my three beautiful granddaughters grow up—and a grandson or two if any of you would ever produce me some.” He eyed Gabe, Nick, Dani, and Jaden. “But most of all, I’d have left all of you. My kids that I’m so proud of. And I’m not ready to do that yet.”

  He finished off his milk, and his hand shook until he set the glass back down.

  Before anyone could fill the void of words, he faced Nate, and Nate held his breath. He had no idea what his dad would say to him.

  “You left, son. You were here one day and gone the next, and we’ve hardly seen you since.”

  Nate glanced across the table at Gabe. He could tell his dad that it certainly wasn’t his fault he’d left. Nor was it even their mother’s. But his reason for leaving was something he’d held on to for too long to consider letting it come out now. Plus, it still had the huge potential to hurt his family.

  “You’ve been a little wild over the years,” his dad went on, “and sometimes a lot ornery. But I’ve loved having you home these last few months. And I’d love if you’d come home for good. If there’s anything I can do to make that happen, let me know and I’ll do it. I’ve missed you, son.”

  Words couldn’t have come out of Nate at that point if someone had been holding a gun to his head. He’d enjoyed being home, as well. And he’d like to stay. He’d like to have these kinds of family meals on a regular basis, to have this kind of love in his life.

  He’d also like to have what four of his siblings have found. Unconditional love. Support.

  Someone to have their backs no matter how many times they screwed up.

  He’d like to not always feel like he had to look over his shoulder, waiting for Karma to kick him in the ass.

  “Well, personally, I think he needs to stick around and run this new business he’s creating,” Gloria said, and Nate whipped his gaze over to hers. “He’s clearly got a good business head on his shoulders. I think he’d make it a great success.”

  “I’m just building some cabins, Gloria.”

  He looked away from her, uncomfortable with the scrutiny, and his dad said, “You’re not just building some cabins. Gabe brought me a copy of the business plan you laid out to get the loan. It’s solid. Thorough and well-thought-out.”

  “It had far more detail than I’d have ever thought of,” Dani added, and at the accompanying nods from around the table, Nate felt a flush of pride.

  “The internet is good for figuring out those types of things,” he deflected.

  “Don’t undermine yourself,” his dad argued. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe it should have been you running this farm all those years ago.”

  Nate made sure to keep a blank face at the comment. Because that’s the one thing no one had ever considered. When Gabe and Dani had decided they were ready to step down from handling it, no one had ever thought that he might want to do it in their place. Nor that he could do it.

  “Cord.” Their dad now turned his attention to their last brother, and Nate watched as Cord sat up straighter in his seat. Cord looked as uncomfortable with whatever was to come as Jaden had when it had been his turn. “If I’d been smart enough to get a counselor for any of you kids after your mom died, it should have been for you. And for not doing that, I apologize.”

  Cord shook his head. “I’m fine, Dad. I didn’t need a counselor.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Jaden jumped in, apparently unable to control himself, and Nate instantly saw his “counselor” face come into play. “You found her. You always found her. Of course you needed a counselor.”

  Their mother had always made sure attention centered on her, and if she hadn’t had it for some reason, then she’d manufactured it. Several of the times she’d created it herself, she’d done so by situations she’d labeled as “accidents”—the last of which had turned into her causing her own death when the car wreck she’d planned didn’t go quite as she’d hoped. And for each of those “accidents,” she’d instigated them when she’d known Cord would be there to find her.

  He was the one who’d needed counseling the most. Likely all of them had, but Cord no doubt had many years of serious issues buried deep.

  “And you granddaughters,” his dad continued, leaving Jaden’s comments to sit like a lump of week-old fruitcake in the pit of all their stomachs. But his tone changed to one of teasing with the girls. Jenna and Haley grinned at him from their seats beside each other, while Mia gurgled happily from her mother’s lap.

  His dad shook a finger in Jenna’s and Haley’s direction. “You girls make sure your dads always do right by you, you hear?”

  “Yes, Pops,” both girls chorused.

  “And if they don’t, you come see me.”

  They grinned again, and then Nate watched as Erica gave Jenna a subtle nod. That got the girl out of her chair, with Haley quickly following, and both of them rushed to their grandfather’s side, smothering him in hugs.

  “We’re so glad you’re home, Pops.”

  “I am too, baby girls. I am too.”

  His dad’s eyelids drooped as he held on to the girls, and as if she’d seen the same thing as Nate, Gloria stood from her seat. “Let’s get some of these dishes out of the way before you boys show us what’s for dessert.”

  Nate, Nick, and his wife Harper followed her up, insisting that she and everyone else remain seated. And as Nate pulled the strawberry pastry from the fridge, Nick went for clean plates while Harper quickly stacked the dirty dishes in the sink. Conversation stalled as everyone was served and dug in, but it wasn’t long until his dad’s eyelids drooped once more. Before Gloria could do it herself, Nate rose again and offered to help his dad get settled into bed.

  It had been a long day for all of them, so as he rolled his father away from the table and down the hall, everyone else began gathering up the remainder of the dishes. The night was a far cry from where they’d been as a family only three years before, and Nate would always be grateful to have been here for it.

  “I missed you coming to visit these last few weeks,” his dad said the instant the two of them slipped into the newly renovated room.

  “I’m sorry about that.” He rolled his dad to the bathroom so he could take care of business before going to bed. “There was a lot to do here.”

  “I’m sure there has been.”

  Locking the brakes on the wheelchair, Nate stood at the ready in case his dad needed help getting up. He didn’t, though, and once he’d pushed himself to his one remaining good leg and balanced on his crutches, Nate moved the chair out of the way and stood outside the bathroom door waiting in case help were needed.

  “I feel like there might have been more to it, though,” his dad said from the other side of the door. The toilet flushed, and then half a minute later water splashed into the sink. “Like maybe you were upset with me.”

  When the door swung open, his dad balancing in front of the wheelchair, Nate shook his head. “Of course I wasn’t upset with you. What would I have been upset about?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”

  Nate helped his dad get back into the chair, and then he got him situated into bed. He didn’t comment on the apparent fishing expedition his dad was try
ing to engage in, because he had nothing to say. Yes, he hadn’t visited his dad while he’d been in the rehab center these last few weeks. But no, he wasn’t upset with him. He’d just been busy, as he’d said earlier.

  Only . . .

  “You left mad that morning, if I remember correctly.” His dad stared up from his horizontal position in the bed, his eyes barely open. “Though I didn’t understand at the time why you were mad.”

  “I wasn’t mad. I just don’t always like mornings.”

  Which wasn’t true at all. He had no issues with mornings, and in fact, had been getting up and being down in the kitchen as early as his dad the last few weeks before the accident. He’d thought his dad going out every morning to check on the trees more than unnecessary, but all the same, each day that final week, Nate had been offering to do the check for him. He hadn’t liked the idea of his dad being out there before daylight every morning. And though it hadn’t fully registered in his mind, deep down he’d begun to suspect there might be something more than worry for the trees going on with him.

  Of course, his dad had never taken him up on any of the offers, and that last morning, Nate had left out of there mad. He’d gone into town to have breakfast, annoyed that his father apparently didn’t think him capable enough of doing something so basic as checking on trees, and he’d been trying to convince himself it was time to wash his hands of the whole thing. No one had ever needed him here, so he hadn’t known why he’d bothered.

  But then that text from Arsula had come in.

  “I need to sleep now, son,” his dad mumbled, the words more garbled than distinct. “I’m sorry for whatever I did.”

  Since heavy breathing immediately followed the words, Nate didn’t say anything else. He just got up and quietly left the room. Only, when he stepped out, he found Arsula waiting for him in the hallway.

  “Hey,” he said. He didn’t have a clue what she might want. “What’s up?”

  He could hear everyone else still in the living room or kitchen, but instead of heading that way, Arsula took his arm and led him in the opposite direction. They slipped into the office, and she closed the door behind them.

  His radar lit up. “What’s going on?”

  Nate took a small step back. Not that he thought Arsula was about to make any sort of pass at him, but he didn’t like the idea of being alone in a room with any of his brothers’ significant others.

  “I just wanted to mention that I saw Megan out with someone last night,” she said, and Nate’s entire body went tight.

  “What’s that got to do with me?” he asked.

  “I . . .” After pausing, she glanced toward the fireplace, as if searching for whatever words she was after in the long-swept-up ashes, then turned back and offered him a tight smile. “You know that I sometimes sense things.”

  He’d thought her abilities more involved reading dreams and helping people to connect with their intuition and inner selves, so he remained confused at both the reason for her to seek him out as well as the comment about Megan. But he couldn’t let it go without asking. “And what is it that you sense this time?”

  “I thought that you might like to know, that’s all.”

  “Why would I want to know, Arsula?”

  And who had she been out with? That’s what he really wanted to ask. Had it been Dre?

  He had no idea if she’d gone out with his friend again. He’d avoided being alone with the man as much as possible over the last week, simply because if Dre was dating Megan, he didn’t want to know about it. But he’d also found himself ashamed of the way he’d treated Megan. First, practically shedding her of her clothes on her own countertop. Then, running away as if ashamed that he’d touched her.

  Not that he should have stayed and done anything else. She was still his brother’s ex.

  But he had upset her. And she’d already been upset about her father cancelling his visit. About rarely seeing any of her family.

  What was it she’d said? Maybe that would finally score me some points?

  The phrase had run through his mind several times over the last week, as well as picturing those texts he’d seen on her phone. The ones urging her to send her resume. Was her father unhappy with her choices? Specifically . . . with her working at The Cherry Basket?

  It made sense. Retail didn’t come close to what she’d studied for.

  Another thing that would’ve made sense that night was if, instead of him putting his mouth on hers when she’d been so upset, he’d dug into the issue. Tried to help resolve it. That’s what a friend would have done.

  Instead, he’d put a giant roadblock right in the middle of their friendship.

  “I guess I was wrong in thinking that,” Arsula finally answered. She opened the door, the odd conversation clearly over, but instead of either of them immediately exiting the room, Nate looked at her once more. Her expression was unreadable, but he suspected she thought there was more to him and Megan than there was. Or more than there could be.

  “Megan and I are friends, Arsula. Nothing more.”

  She nodded, though he didn’t feel like it was in agreement.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Megan sat in her store office with her elbow on her desk, her chin propped in her hand, and stared blankly at her computer monitor. It was Saturday night—nearing midnight—and she’d been alone in the office for hours.

  She hadn’t gone out with Dre a second time the week before, even though he’d called that Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday and asked. She’d wanted to go out with him. Even if only because Nate had the balls to tell her not to. But each time she’d talked to or texted with him, all she’d been able to think about was Nate’s mouth on her lips and his hands unbuttoning her dress. And that hadn’t seemed like a good precedent going into any date. Therefore, she’d decided they’d just be friends and she’d moved on.

  That’s when she’d met Austin. Austin had connected with her through her dating app. He lived in a nearby town and had moved to the area two years before due to work. Smart and with a good sense of humor, Austin was also looking for something serious, as well as wanted kids down the road, a house, everything. In a nutshell, he was top-grade dating material. So, she’d shoved Nate from her mind and given this one her all. And she liked him.

  She and Austin has gotten together twice in the last ten days—texting several times in between—and during both of those dates, she’d had an excellent time. He was also a decent kisser—though not as good as Nate—and he’d been nice and polite in all the ways that mattered. Simply put, Austin had potential.

  But then he’d texted before tonight’s date with an “I’m not that into you” message, and though her initial thought had been to be crushed—after all, he had great potential—she’d instead been more meh about the whole thing. But refusing to sit home alone just because she didn’t have a date, she’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt . . . and she’d come into the office.

  She had a laptop at home, of course. But somehow sitting here on a Saturday night had originally seemed less depressing.

  Sighing, she clicked around on the orchard’s new website, which was what she’d been working on for the last hour. She’d made a lot of progress in the last couple of weeks—thanks to feedback from Dani, since Megan had been too annoyed after Nate’s kiss-and-run to include him in any of her questions. But she was missing Nate tonight. Honestly, she’d missed him most nights. And that annoyed her even more than his kiss-and-run. Because she shouldn’t be missing him. He was her friend . . . only.

  And he’d made that painfully clear the last time she’d seen him.

  He also hadn’t so much as reached out to her in the last two weeks while she’d been avoiding him, so she was beginning to wonder if they were even still friends.

  Lifting her chin out of her hand, she shut down the work on the website and reloaded the online room designer app. That’s what she’d spent the majority of the evening messing with. That, and ordering furniture for t
he cabins. Nick had reached out to her a couple of weeks ago. He did the accounting for the Wilde’s businesses, so he’d reviewed her suggested budget for the cabin designs then made arrangements for her to have a line of credit for ordering whatever was needed. And she’d ordered a lot tonight.

  It had all been required, of course, but she’d taken pleasure in the hope that Nate would see the expenditures and know that his rejection of her hadn’t slowed her enthusiasm. She could compartmentalize with the best of them, and she wasn’t about to let the man sidetrack her from a project that she was finding she truly did enjoy. It was different than when she’d laid out and designed the new space for the store, but it was just as rewarding. Maybe more so, in fact.

  Knowing her brain was too tired and her mood wasn’t likely to improve, she finally shut down the computer and headed for her car. It didn’t take long to get to her apartment since she lived only a few blocks from the square, and as she parked in front of her place, the first thing she noticed was that her porch light had burned out. Now she would either have to scrounge up a stepladder—or she could just go across the street and get Gabe to do it for her tomorrow.

  But either way, it wasn’t something she was willing to deal with tonight.

  In fact, she didn’t want to deal with anything. Maybe not for a long time. Not burned out lights, not men she didn’t click with. Not Nate Wilde, who she wanted to strangle with her own two hands. Couldn’t the man see that they had chemistry?

  That’s who she wanted to spend time with. Not Dre or Austin or any of the other guys who were still on her much-ignored list.

  Climbing out of the car, she slammed the door behind her and, with a press of her key fob, trudged up the sidewalk to her apartment. And right as her foot landed on her porch, she had the first inkling that the darkened light might not be due to a burned-out filament at all.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and a split second later, a soft creak came from the same corner as it had two weeks before. Fear was quickly replaced with competing emotions of irritation and giddiness when a bright light flicked on and shined directly in her face.