Big Sky Vs. Big City
With a high-flying career in the big city, Paige Barclay rarely finds her way back to the homestead in Bear Lake, Montana. But then a terrible accident leaves Paige in charge of her orphaned nephew. She’s prepared to take Bryan back to Seattle, far from the home he loves. Wrangler Jay Red Elk loves Bryan like a son and knows the boy belongs in Montana. He won’t let Bryan go without a fight. But as Paige grows closer to the handsome, determined cowboy, she begins to wonder whether she, too, belongs here—in Bear Lake by Jay’s side.
“Krissy wanted you to raise him, child. Raise him like he
was your own,” Grandpa said.
Paige’s mouth opened. Not a sound came out. She’d been named Bryan’s guardian?
Why in the world—
She’d always assumed Grandpa would be there if anything—
She couldn’t possibly—
Looking to the other end of the table, she realized Jay and Bryan were as shocked as she was. Mouths gaped open. Both of them struck dumb.
As if the words Grandpa had spoken had finally registered, Bryan’s eyes widened. His face turned red. He leaped to his feet.
“I don’t want her to be my guardian!” he screamed. “I want my mom!” Knocking over his chair, Bryan raced from the room and out the back door.
Stunned, Paige sent up a heartfelt prayer. Please, Lord, what am I supposed to do now?
CHARLOTTE CARTER
A multipublished author of more than fifty romances, cozy mysteries and inspirational titles, Charlotte Carter lives in Southern California with her husband of forty-nine years and their cat, Mittens. They have two married daughters and five grandchildren. When she’s not writing, Charlotte does a little stand-up comedy, “G-Rated Humor for Grown-ups,” and teaches workshops on the craft of writing.
Montana Wrangler
Charlotte Carter
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.
—Proverbs 3:5–6
I want to express my appreciation
to the readers on the Harlequin Forums who helped me to “grow” Bear Lake, Montana, with their creative ideas: Loves 2 Read Romance, who suggested Loves 2 Read Romance Bookshop & Bakery, and Valri, who envisioned the chatty postmistress in town.
Special thanks to my editor, Emily Rodmell,
who makes me write better books.
Contents
Chapter One
Tears blurred Paige Barclay’s vision as she stood on the wide plank porch of her grandpa Henry’s house in the high country of western Montana not far from Glacier National Park.
She hadn’t cried at her sister’s funeral that morning. Their mother had always said crying was a waste of time and energy. Now, alone with her thoughts and her sense of guilt and regret, Paige’s tears were hard to hold back.
Paige eyed the horses shifting around in the nearby corral—her grandfather’s stable of horses used in his Bear Lake Outfitters operation. Their tails flashed as they flicked flies away. They stomped their feet. Occasionally they snorted or tossed their heads from side to side as though warning Paige to keep her distance.
Even from several hundred feet, she caught the earthy animal scent, which almost overwhelmed the more pleasant perfume of pine trees.
She wrinkled her nose. Did everyone in Montana have to own a horse?
She’d been terrified of horses almost as long as she could remember. Their size. Their big teeth. And that she’d been dumped from the saddle when she was five years old. A memory she couldn’t forget and one that still gave her nightmares. A broken leg. Pain. Surgery that left a scar she could still see.
Her mother upset and angry because she had to stay home to take care of Paige instead of working at the family’s hardware store.
Everything about Bear Lake and the outfitting business was entirely different from Paige’s life and her career in Seattle. In the same way, Paige and her younger sister Krissy had had little in common.
Krissy had loved horses, loved riding them, the faster the better. Four days ago, not far from here, riding a horse too fast, jumping the horse too far, had killed Krissy.
Growing up, everyone had said Krissy was the pretty sister. The fun-loving sister. Paige was the good sister. The plain sister.
Being pretty hadn’t done Krissy much good.
“My sister shouldn’t have died so young,” she said aloud, as though accusing the horses in the corral.
“If she hadn’t been riding so recklessly,” a smooth baritone voice announced, “Krissy wouldn’t have died, and I wouldn’t have had to put a good horse down.”
Thinking that she’d been alone, she started. Turning, she discovered Jay Red Elk had walked silently up onto the porch and was now looming over her. Considering she was a good five foot seven or eight, depending on which pair of high heels she wore, that was quite a feat.
Of course, her grandfather’s wrangler and trail guide stood well over six feet. His unreadable expression and more than a hint of his Blackfoot heritage in his chiseled cheekbones made him an intimidating figure. Not that she had any intention of backing down to