His Outback Cowgirl(3)

She opened her eyes and gave in to the restlessness that, since they’d buried her father, she couldn’t exhaust. She tapped the toe of her boot. How long was the ranch hallway? The door was taking forever to open. Her gaze slid from the door to the high-country peaks to her left. Their silence and solitude called to her. The sooner she spoke to Henry Watson, the sooner she could disappear into the backcountry and allow herself to grieve.

The tears she’d refused to cry banked like a summer storm. The desperate whispers that she needed time and space alone now howled through her head like a gale wind. She’d been in Montana two weeks and she was yet to get to the mountains. Edgy and agitated, she was close to snapping. Last night in Grey’s Saloon when Nick’s overfriendly hand had brushed her butt while offering pool advice, she’d elbowed him way too hard.

The dog barking intensified and the door finally swung open. A black and white dog, and similar colored puppy, spilled out from the ranch house. The pup jumped and planted two small paws on her knee. A whistle sounded and the two dogs left her side to sit on the porch, their eyes trained on the front door.

Broad shoulders filled the doorway. Then, movements measured as though he had all the time in the world, a man stepped outside. She looked into the stranger’s face and stared into eyes as flawless and as blue as the cloudless canopy above them.

At first she thought she’d met this man last night at Grey’s Saloon but subtle differences suggested this wasn’t Cordell Morgan but his twin. The two men might share the same handsome and even features but this man’s dark blond hair was short and neat and his eyes were as calm as a still pond. Her heart beat a little faster. This might be the steady and serious brother but he was just as drop-jaw gorgeous as Cordell.

“Welcome to Larkspur Ridge Ranch. I’m Ethan. You must be Zane’s sister, Bridie?”

She nodded. Even this cowboy’s words were unhurried and quiet. Her gaze lingered on his clean-shaven chin. She hadn’t been formally introduced to Ethan last night but she had seen him. Cordell had pointed his twin out sitting with his back to her at the edge of the crowd, engrossed in conversation with a starry-eyed brunette. Amongst all the saloon high-spirits and chaos, he’d sat still and self-possessed, an oasis of tranquility in a world gone temporarily mad.

The slight narrowing of Ethan’s eyes let her know he wasn’t immune to her silent appraisal.

She stepped forward to offer her hand. “Yes, I’m Bridie. Nice to meet you.”

She must have imagined his slight hesitation before his calloused hand slid against her palm and his warm fingers wrapped around hers. She concentrated on making her grip as firm as any man’s and not on the increasing temperature of her cheeks. Since when did the heat of a stranger’s skin seep through her like the warmth of a winter sunrise?

She slipped her hand from his and looked to where the two obedient dogs now sat by his socked feet.

“Is this Rocket, the father of Finn’s puppy, Bug?” she asked bending to tickle the bigger dog’s ears.

“Yes and this is Bug’s brother, Milo.”

The puppy batted her arm with his paw as if to tell her to hurry up and pat him. She laughed and rubbed behind his ears. “Hello, Milo. Yes, I know, you’re just as cute as that mischievous Bug who stole one of my boots.”

She straightened and surprised a not-so-peaceful look in Ethan’s eyes. No longer a clear and composed blue, his irises had darkened. As quickly as the look appeared, it disappeared. She examined his face. She hadn’t been mistaken in what she’d seen. Her first impression hadn’t taken in the whole man. Still waters could run deep and this steady cowboy wouldn’t always be so controlled or so sensible.

He folded his arms across the front of his spotless blue shirt. “So how are you finding Montana?”

“Good thanks.”

She shifted on her feet and glanced at the open front door. Small talk had never been her thing. She usually couldn’t stand still long enough, but this time her need to move had nothing to do with how she was wired. The rolled up cuffs of Ethan’s shirt left his tanned forearms bare and the action of crossing his arms had stretched his shirt tight across his biceps. No wonder the brunette he’d been speaking to last night couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Ethan unfolded his arms. “Come on in. Henry’s looking forward to meeting you.”

She nodded and walked past Ethan, catching the faint scent of soap mixed with the clean smell of sunshine dried cotton. Head high, she strode down the long and wide hallway.

As gorgeous as Ethan was she hadn’t come to Marietta for anything other than to meet her half-brother and to mourn for her father. And if she had, the cowboy walking behind her with leisurely steps wouldn’t be potential partner material. They’d drive each other nuts. She’d tried changing who she was to make a relationship work and all that had happened was that she’d lost who she was in the process. Her chin lifted. She’d rather be single than have someone not accept her for who she was.