From Montana Rescuer

CHAPTER ONE

HOPE GONZALEZ

“I don’t get urges to move closer to men—no matter how attractive I find them.”

Another moan filters through the wall as I pass Braden’s study on my way to the kitchen. Seems like he and my best friend, Carrie, are at it again. Ever since we arrived at his estate a month ago, they’ve been glued together—love at first sight.

I’m happy for her.

But it doesn’t help the stinging envy every time the walls vibrate with the sounds of sex or I witness their playful kisses. Within the past few months, both of my closest friends have found love with men who adore them, though that seems too tame of a word.

Braden and Travis are obsessed with the women in their lives. I read a lot of romance novels—a fair share that includes ‘fated mates’ or ‘instalove’—but I didn’t think it could happen in real life until my friends were quickly claimed by their men.

Now, I’m the last single one of the bunch and the only virgin, if the moans and breathy sighs coming from the other room are anything to go by.

Carrie and I used to be two peas in a pod when it came to men. We’d never had boyfriends. Were never-been-kissed virgins.

Until Braden.

Until Brooke suggested we spend time on this massive Montana estate co-owned by Braden and Travis.

With homes for each of them, the ranch provides a quiet retreat from their business travels. Though now that Brooke and Travis are married, they’ve taken to staying here full-time.

Carrie and I were supposed to stay at Brooke’s empty home while she and Travis were away, but the first day we arrived, Braden greeted us at the door and the rest is history. Rather than jetting off to LA for a business deal after welcoming us to the property, he stayed on, taking meetings from home while spending as much time as possible with Carrie.

The two of us ended up at Braden’s house instead, since he and Carrie were suddenly joined at the hip, and I didn’t want to be alone in Brooke and Travis’s huge home.

Bypassing the kitchen, my hunger evaporating with my melancholic thoughts, I grab my coat, tug on my boots, and step outside to get away from the happy couple.

A misty fog hovers over the grounds. The somber gray infuses the October chill with even more bitterness as my breath puffs in clouds of heat before disappearing.

Following the stone path away from the house, I head toward the woods. A few days earlier, Carrie asked Braden if there were horses around here, and he’d mentioned something about them ‘being in the back.’ It’s odd for a stable to be kept so far from the main compound, but what do I know about wealthy men’s estates?

Guardian Valley is home to several ranches with plenty of land for horses to roam. Some graze right up to the wooden posts corralling them from the road, like Serenity Ranch a couple of miles down, while others remain hidden behind a forest of trees left as privacy barriers—like this estate and whoever butts up next to it.

Pulling the coat zipper higher over my sweater, I wonder how I’m going to survive the next few months surrounded by lovebirds.

We’re spending the last part of the year here since the online magazine Carrie and I run can be managed from anywhere, and we’re working on securing a book deal to grow our audience. The picturesque scenery makes for beautiful photos from Carrie and inspiration for my craft projects—which should be my focus instead of lamenting my relationship status.

It would just be nice to be wanted for once.

Hire a matchmaker.

A personal stylist.

Transform yourself into someone new.

The mantra gets shoved aside in favor of reality and the other reason I agreed to live in Guardian Valley for so long—the inheritance bequeathed to me from Mr. Dell Foster, a dead CEO billionaire responsible for the deaths of my parents.

Well, his company plane was responsible.

When the children of those who’d perished in the accident were encouraged to sue Foster after the plane crash, his lawyers found a loophole that saved the man from paying us an exorbitant amount in damages and emotional trauma.

Guess his conscience wouldn’t let him die with that black mark in his past, though, so he arranged for those of us he’d cheated to receive an equal split of his entire fortune. As long as we lived in Guardian Valley for a year.

Technically, I could’ve gone straight to Serenity Ranch—which is part of his holdings—but the coincidence of everything had me searching for solid ground.

Because what were the odds that Brooke, also a co-inheritor, would meet and marry a separate billionaire who happened to own land in the same Montana town as the old man who left behind billions of his own?

Then Carrie met and fell for Braden, another wealthy businessman.

My friends’ lives are changing, and our group is growing—first with Travis and Braden, then with the other Foster heirs. It’s a lot of new people and circumstances, and I need a quiet place to process it all. A place void of strangers, Braden’s presence notwithstanding.

“Twenty-nine years old, and this is what it’s come to,” I grumble. I feel like I should be handling everything better than I am. Hell, I’m about to be a very rich woman, but piles of money don’t ease my anxiety.

An old red barn peeks through the branches ahead, and there’s a fence with a gate that I unlatch to pass through. Strange that Braden would mark off the property this way, but maybe it’s so the horses can’t wander up to the house.

Rain begins to drizzle with increasing frequency, clouding the view through my glasses. Hurrying forward, I struggle with the huge sliding barn door before finally squeezing inside and shutting out the sudden deluge.

The combined smell of hay and animals forms a cozy cocoon.

Growing up in cities, I haven’t spent much time in barns, but I like the feeling of nostalgia it gives me. A sense of tradition, old-fashioned values, and hard work. Wooden stalls with black bars across the top form a line down either side of the building. Not every stall is full, but a couple of horses poke their heads over the enclosures.

A black one stamps his hooves as if trying to draw my attention.

“Hey, there,” I say quietly, even though we’re alone. Speaking above a whisper seems like it would disturb the peacefulness of this place. The horse neighs loudly, causing a laugh to bubble up at my ridiculousness.

“What’s your name?” I look around his stall to find a placard or sign but nothing decorates the wood except a thick nail to the side where a bridle hangs. The horse doesn’t answer, just stomps his feet again and huffs large gusts of air like one of those angry demon horses in movies. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. We can still be friends.”

I cross my arms over the edge of the gate. “You’re definitely the only friend I can talk to at the moment,” I admit before word-vomiting on the poor animal.

Inexplicably, I share my mixed emotions over Carrie and Brooke’s relationships and my fears of never having anybody. The sudden inheritance, which isn’t much of a consolation prize considering I’ve been without my parents for two decades.

Hot tears track down my cheeks as everything pours out like a shaken bottle whose cap has finally been released. The weather outside echoes the barrage of words as the rain picks up and pounds across the roof.

The horse must understand my distress because he slowly saunters closer, cautious in his movements, before nudging my head with his own and starting to chew my hair.

A watery laugh escapes as I swipe my hands across my cheeks. “You’re a good listener, you know? Sorry, I don’t have any treats for you.”

“That can be solved easily enough,” a male voice rumbles behind me.

I jerk back from the gate and slam a hand to my chest to calm the rapid beating. A man stands inside the stables, his wet slicker dripping water to the dirt floor and forming a muddy puddle. His worn hat lies in one hand as he rakes another through wavy brown hair, and a shiver spreads through my body—from the temperature or his appearance, I’m not sure.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, but I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here,” he says as he comes further inside until mere feet separate us. Light brown eyes assess me from head to toe, pausing at my face where my ragged emotions are on full display.

“Sorry if it’s not allowed. The door wasn’t locked, so I thought it’d be okay if I came in.” And I needed to get away from my friends while they had sex. But that’s not something you share with a stranger, especially one who probably works for Braden if he’s taking care of his horses.

“Nothing wrong with visiting. You just surprised me. You and Krueger. That horse doesn’t calm down for anyone. No one’s been able to ride him since he got here, and going near him is asking for a kick. Yet you managed to charm him.” A curious note enters his voice before he shifts and motions toward me. “If you want to give him a treat, follow me. We’ve got the food stored over here.”

I consider his offer before following. He doesn’t seem dangerous, but being alone with a stranger makes me a little nervous.

Another reason you’ll be single forever.

I grimace.

Already an anxious person when it comes to people I don’t know, men send my elevated baseline sky high. And it’s tough to strike up a friendship, let alone a relationship, when you’re too self-conscious to speak.

Swinging open a door, he waves a hand in front of him. “Take your pick.”

Sliding past him, I brush against his chest, the smell of male and the outdoors creating an intriguing combination that beckons me closer, but I deny the urge.

My attention flits to the food stores while I shake off the strange notion. This isn't me. I don’t get urges to move closer to men—no matter how attractive I find them.

Because they usually don’t feel the same way about me.

“Which is his favorite?” I ask.

“Don’t know. No one’s gotten close enough to risk feeding him a treat from their hand.”

“Right… That was a stupid question.” I blush and focus on the treat selection. He already said that getting near Krueger would basically land someone on their back.

“Not stupid. You want to know what he likes. Nothing wrong with that.”

I glance up to meet his gaze, a warmth tingling down my body as I imagine a double meaning in his words. Like we’re talking about his likes and me pleasing him, which is insanity.

“I’ll take a couple of options, so he can choose.” Sugar cubes get shoved in my pockets while two apples and carrots fill my hands. “That should be enough, in case he likes one more than the others. You said his name is Krueger?”

Leading me back to the main portion of the stables, the man nods. “Yeah, seemed fitting since he’s been a nightmare to handle. His black coat cements the horror theme, though the white socks disrupt the complete image.”

“I didn’t even notice!” At Krueger’s stall, I look down and confirm he has four white socks rising from his dark hooves. He retreats to a corner at our approach, keen eyes darting between me and the man who steps back to give us space.

“Some things haven’t changed. He still doesn’t like me hanging around.”

Setting a carrot, apple, and sugar cube in a line along the lip of the gate, I shrug. “Maybe this will earn you some goodwill. Being around while he gets treats.”

“Doubt it, but I appreciate the thought, darlin’.”

I duck my head as scarlet heats my skin at the endearment. It means nothing. He’s a cowboy, rancher, whatever, and we’re standing in a barn. He probably refers to every woman that way.

“Alright, Krueger, what’s your favorite?” The horse stares at me, unmoving. “Come on,” I coax, “We brought you treats! Do you like apples? Hmm? Or carrots? They’re good for your eyes…” I ramble nonsense until he comes close enough to sniff the line of snacks before snatching up the sugar cube.

“Ah, a sweet tooth. Can’t say I blame you.” I remove more of the cubes from my pockets, and we spend a few minutes with Krueger’s chewing filling the silence. After the sugar cubes, he goes for the apple and carrot, and when everything’s gone, I bring a hand to his muzzle, gently rubbing the velvet hair.

I almost forget about the man behind us until he mumbles an awed “I’ll be damned.”

Shaken from the soothing moment, I step back from the house and face the stranger.

“Thanks for showing me the treats for Krueger. I should probably get going…” I trail off awkwardly, dreading walking home in this downpour. But I can’t stay trapped here with him.

“You can’t go out in this, especially in those shoes,” he gestures to my gray sneakers, “You’ll be soaked in a minute.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just water. I’ll dry off when I get to the house.”

“And where’s that? There’s not many people out this way.”

“I’m staying at Braden’s.” It’s a weird question since we’re on Braden and Travis’s estate, but he doesn’t know me. I suppose I could be a trespassing drifter.

His jaw clenches at the mention of their names. The lines around his eyes tighten as they narrow, and the immediate air of annoyance is confusing, considering the man’s employment under them. I’ve worked for bosses that I disliked, but Braden and Travis seem nice enough. Though, according to Brooke, before he met Carrie, Braden could be a real jerk.

“I didn’t realize Vanderhorn had a woman.”

My thighs clench at the growl of his assumption. It sounds so primal being someone’s woman, though I definitely don’t hold that title.

For anyone.

“It’s pretty recent… My friend Carrie and I arrived about a month ago, and he's been obsessed with her ever since.”

A slight loosening around his shoulders reveals his cooling response, almost like he’d been jealous of Braden, but that doesn’t make sense. “Anyway, it’s not that far of a walk. Thanks again for your help with Krueger.”

I turn to leave before he stops me with a hand on my arm. “Wait, I’ll take you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that…”

“I’m taking you,” he repeats, “I have a spare rain slicker and hat to protect you. It’ll take a minute for me to saddle up Star.”

“One horse? I can ride my own.”

“Have you ever ridden before?” He removes an oversized black coat and hat from hooks on the wall and hands them to me, their weight surprisingly hefty.

“Once when I was a kid.” I shove my arms into the coat. The sleeves go past my fingertips while the hem drags behind me.

Most of the time I don’t feel very small despite my 5’ 4’’ stature. I’m curvy, a solid size 20 or 22 depending on the clothing brand, yet this coat manages to make me feel tiny. Buttoning it to my collarbone, I hike up the extra material so I can walk and follow him to where he begins saddling a chestnut horse who neighs in greeting.

“That’s not good enough, especially during a storm. The horse could spook, and you’d be thrown off. It’s safer to ride with me,” he says firmly, hefting a saddle over the horse’s back. Doubt creeps over me as I eye it, the man, and me. I’m not sure how the two of us are going to fit on that thing with his burly stature and my curves.

Once all the loops and buckles are checked, he turns to help me up. “Place your foot here, swing over, then scoot closer to the horn. This part.” He taps the leather handle sticking up at the front of the saddle.

“I’m riding in front of you?”

“As a precaution. Star’s as well-behaved as they come, but in case anything happens, you won’t be able to fall off the back.”

“You don’t have much confidence in my staying on this horse,” I joke, though I’m grateful he’s thinking of my safety first. Star looks much bigger when I’m standing right next to her, and her intimidating height kindles a nervous ball of energy.

“Better to be safe than sorry. Hold the reins in your left hand and put your right on the pommel here. Your left foot goes in the stirrup.” I do as he says as he continues, “You’re going to pull yourself up by the pommel and swing your leg over the back. Ready?”

I nod despite my misgivings. If I had to guess, my arm strength is consistent with a spaghetti noodle, but I can’t back out now.

He starts counting to three then we’re both working to get me up and over, his hands on my waist lifting me with surprising ease. I almost swing over too far, but he catches me, pulling me back to center.

“Perfect,” he praises as he removes the stirrup from my foot to replace it with his own. “Hang on.”

In a smoother motion compared to mine, he swings up behind me, his hard body pushing me closer to the pommel and horn.

Inappropriate thoughts spring to life as my breathing increases.

Impossible, dirty thoughts.

Leave it to me to skip from virgin to sex on a horse. Maybe I need to take a break from all those books I read. Although to be fair, with all the reading and my vibrator, I don’t feel super ‘virgin-y’.

“Hold onto this or Star’s mane if you feel unsteady, okay?” Warm breath tickles my ear as he leans forward, placing my hands where he wants them.

I can’t imagine feeling unsteady with his sturdy presence behind me—not when I’m wedged tight between him and the pommel.

“Okay.” The scratchiness in my voice betrays my wayward hormones. Somehow this afternoon turned from me feeling sorry for myself to riding on a horse with a mysterious stranger. A hysterical laugh threatens to erupt at the absurd change, but I rein it in and then chuckle at my pun.

God, I need to get back to my room to escape this dreamscape before I embarrass myself.

With a slight tug on the reins, Star begins walking, and soon we’re blasted by watery pellets. The rain shifted to sleet in the past ten minutes, and I’m suddenly very glad to not be walking alone in this.

The borrowed cloak and hat protect most of my skin, but my face still burns with the pinpricks of ice. It almost looks like whiteout conditions with the way my glasses are getting covered.

We meet up with the gate I went through earlier then follow the fence to the right.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s not enough room to pass here. We’ve got to go around to the road.” Drops of sleet melt off the brim of his hat and down my collar, before he rocks back again to focus on guiding Star.

The sudden absence of his heat raises the hair on the back of my neck, and instinctively, I push back into his chest, closing the space. His arms tighten their circle around me as my mind wanders into a fantasy of us being stranded in the storm with only our body heat to warm us.

As I near the good part where his mouth starts drifting down my body, we walk up the paved driveway leading to Braden’s house. The corners of my mouth lift in a rueful smile at the bad timing, but it’s for the best. Back to reality and all that.

We ride up to the wraparound porch where he dismounts behind me. “Here comes the tricky part. You’re going to lean forward, swing your right leg back over, and jump to the ground with both feet.”

I raise a skeptical brow at the instructions. “You want me to jump from this height?” The ground seems to move further away as I look down, not to mention the slick sheen it has from the sleet.

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you. I won’t let you fall.”

I trust that he’ll try, but when I’m barreling towards him, I’m not sure how well he’ll be able to stop my momentum. Steeling my nerves, I start to dismount.

“Hope! Where have you been?” Carrie’s voice startles me, causing my hand to slip off the horn and send me plummeting toward the ground. My heart jumps to my throat before I slam into a hard chest, which knocks the hat off my head, so I’m immediately soaked in ice water.

“I’ve got you, darlin’,” the man behind me says, and it hits me that I have no idea what else to call him.

“I don’t even know your name,” I whisper as I try to catch my breath. He steadies me before kneeling to retrieve the fallen hat, shaking it off, and resettling it on my head.

“It’s Samuel. Samuel Winters.”

I don’t have time to respond before Carrie’s pulling me away.

“Are you okay? When we couldn’t find you in the house, we were worried you were lost in this storm. What were you thinking, and who’s that guy?”

I’m bombarded by questions and ushered to the front door. I try to look back to say goodbye to Samuel, but my view’s blocked by a jacketless Braden.

He and Carrie must have seen us riding up and ran straight out the door because she isn’t wearing a coat either. Maybe that’s why there is a harsh look on Braden’s face. I caught it before being hurried away, and once again, Braden’s and Samuel’s relationship confuses me. It seems tense despite working together.

Giving up on speaking to Samuel again, I let Carrie drag me inside and answer her questions. It sucks that we weren’t able to have a proper farewell, especially after he rescued me from an icy trek home.

Maybe it’s for the best.

Less chance of embarrassing myself by letting my attraction to him accidentally slip.

Sighing in resignation, I remove the borrowed slicker and hat, caress the wet brim with a finger, and then set them aside in the mudroom.

Leaving the evidence of my time with Samuel behind.

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