Somewhere in Montana by Toby Jane

Author:Toby Jane
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798985706833
Publisher: Neal Enterprises Inc

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jess

One month later

* * *

Winter was biting into my cheeks and chilling my hands, even through my thickest gloves, as I took Ramses out to ride the fence line. It was impossible to do that without thinking about Colt, and the first time I’d shown him the chore, then how he’d rescued me during a fresh snowstorm.

Now that winter was settling in, the frost never really left the ground, and though I’d had an early start today, icy bits of snow were sneaking their way under my hat to freeze my ears.

I rode Ramses slowly, sending Bella ahead of us to scout the ground and make sure that he didn’t step in another hole. Bella had a good nose for that, and she would bark and keep him from putting a foot wrong.

There was another reason I was riding the fence today, and that was because I needed to get away from Penny’s ridiculous infatuation.

I was happy for her.

Really, I was.

At least that is what I kept telling myself—but her thing for Dane was annoying as hell, quite frankly. Penny was a grown woman, and all she could do was talk about Dane: Dane said this. Dane did that. Dane likes such and such to eat.

She had been obsessing about whether or not it was too soon to introduce Sarah to Dane.

“I can’t give you any advice on this, Penny,” I had said. “I won’t be back until evening.”

So, here I was, fleeing from my friend’s happiness. Now I didn’t have to hear about Dane, and by extension, his friend Colt, but I also had nowhere to go with my memories but around and around inside my head.

I’d brought a pair of headphones on my ride this time, and I put on some classic rock to blast my thoughts away.

That helped for the first hour or so.

Ramses and I found a downed area of the fence, and I had to run some new wire. That was a good distraction. But soon we had reached the corner that abutted my neighbor’s ranch, and there was the grumpy old man himself, mounted on his big bay draft horse. One of the only men I had ever known to ride one of those giant animals, he looked intimidating aboard a horse that was fourteen hands high. At least the beast had a beautiful thick coat and had sensibly turned its hindquarters towards the bitter wind.

Seemed like the old man had been waiting for me. He tipped his hat. “Nice to see you, Jess.”

This was by far the most civil greeting I’d ever had from him. “And merry almost Christmas to you,” I said with forced cheer. “Anything new going on?”

“Funny you should ask. Did you know the old Peabody place sold?”

“I didn’t, although I knew it was up for sale.” I pulled Ramses to a stop. He nudged the draft horse’s muzzle, and the two made kissy faces at each other. Yep, that great big horse was a mare.

The old man shifted, and I glimpsed his shotgun gleaming from a holster on his saddle.

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