A Rancher's Return
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Jen Gilroy
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CHAPTER ONE
NOWADAYS, MOLLY CARTER didn’t belong in High Valley, Montana. Maybe she didn’t belong anywhere else either, but she couldn’t hide out in one of the community center’s restrooms all evening. As her late dad would have said, she had to put on her game face and “fake it till you make it.” With a smile on her face, if not a spring in her step, she straightened her shoulders, opened the door and made herself return to the party room.
Decorated with orange pumpkins, yellow squash, colorful fall garlands and twinkling white lights, the venue was festive. And while she’d lingered in the restroom, the spacious area had filled with people here to celebrate Molly’s mom’s engagement and upcoming marriage to rancher Shane Gallagher. Her mom and Shane were having a double Thanksgiving wedding with Molly’s brother Bryce, the sibling nearest her in age, and his fiancée, champion barrel racer Carrie Rizzo. Although this party hadn’t initially been planned for Bryce and Carrie, when they’d decided to get married at Thanksgiving as well, it, like the weddings, became a joint celebration.
Country music echoed from the sound system, and the caterer directed staff setting up buffet tables. Her mom’s friends, members of a local women’s group called the Sunflower Sisterhood, darted here and there, lending a hand where needed. And beneath yellow-and-white bunting festooned with hearts and their intertwined initials, the engaged couples greeted their guests.
“Hey, stranger.” Molly’s eldest living brother, Zach, found her at the edge of the crowd and wrapped her in a hug. “When did you get in?”
“Late this afternoon. I only had time to shower and change before coming here with Mom and Shane.” Molly returned Zach’s hug, breathing in frosty late-October air mixed with the crisp scent of his aftershave—one their late dad had also worn. The backs of her eyes smarted. She liked Shane and he made her mom happy, but she missed her dad and thought of him daily.
“It’s good to have you back, but you look tired.” As Zach studied her, Molly’s cheeks warmed. Of all her family, Zach was the one who was most likely to see behind her happy facade. But since his wife, Beth, was expecting their first baby soon, Molly counted on him being too preoccupied to notice much of anything else.
Molly brushed away his concern with a light laugh. “Even though I took my time, it was a long drive.” She’d packed up her studio apartment and handed over the place she’d called home for the last three years to a medical student from Kentucky, as wide-eyed and eager as Molly had once been. Then she’d made the cross-country trek from Georgia, hauling a rented trailer filled with boxes behind her old but reliable SUV. For now, she’d left the trailer by the barn at her family’s ranch, but it only held her visible baggage. The rest she planned to keep hidden and pretend she was the same Molly she’d always been.
“I still wish you’d let one of us fly to Atlanta and drive back here with you. Dad would have—”
“I’m an adult.” Molly stopped Zach. “I know you worry but there’s no need. I hardly saw any people, and no animals bigger than a desert cottontail.” But those five days alone had given her too much time to think about things she usually buried deep.
“There she is.” The women of the Sunflower Sisterhood came over in a group to greet her, and Molly was enveloped in more hugs. Questions quickly followed.
“Atlanta’s nice but it’s great to be home. I’m taking an extended vacation to be here for the holidays, the weddings and, of course, Zach and Beth’s baby.” Molly gave Zach a brief smile before turning back to Rosa Cardinal, her mom’s best friend who owned the local craft center. “Between graduate school and contract work, the past few years have been busy. I’m glad to have a break before starting a permanent job.” That job, a clinical research position in pediatric nursing, would be waiting for her in early January and she should be thrilled about it. She was thrilled. Molly smiled harder as she answered more of Rosa’s questions.
“Where are Beth and Ellie?” As Rosa and the others dispersed, Molly glanced at Zach before scanning the crowd for her sister-in-law and teenage niece.
“They’re here somewhere.” Zach’s grin was resigned. “I dropped them at the door and went to park the truck, but they probably got waylaid by folks. You know how it is.”
“Yeah.” That was small-town life. You stopped and chatted with people even if you’d seen them the day before. “There they are.” Molly waved and moved toward Beth, who was with Molly’s middle brother, Cole, his wife, Melissa, and several excited kids.
There were more hugs and greetings, and Molly embraced Zach’s adopted daughter, Ellie, Bryce’s kids, Paisley and Cam, and Melissa’s daughter, Skylar.
Although neither of them had grown up in High Valley, Beth and Melissa seemed at home here, whereas Molly was now the outsider. She’d wanted city life and she’d gotten it, but at what cost? She pushed the thought away. She was here to spend time with her family, and then she’d go back to Atlanta. She’d ignore those prickles of unease that had become increasingly insistent on her cross-country drive. She was living the life she wanted. The life she’d been planning from the time she was eight years old, the same age as her niece, Paisley.
Cole grinned and said, “Look at you, Jellybean. I hardly recognized you in that fancy dress and shoes.” He picked Molly up and swung her around like he’d done when she was a kid.
“Put me down!” Molly squealed in protest. “And don’t call me Jellybean either.”
“Sorry, Mol.” Cole lowered her gently to the ground. “I’m teasing. Even grown up, you’ll always be my baby sister.” His tone was apologetic. “I love you, and I’m glad you’re home is all.”
Molly smoothed her blond hair away from her face. “I love you too.” Like their dad, her brothers were good men who set a high standard. Although she’d dated a few guys in Atlanta, they hadn’t matched the ones she’d grown up with.
As Molly turned around, she stilled, and her heart gave a painful thud. It couldn’t be. She blinked, and heat rushed to her face.
“Molly?” His voice was deeper, but she’d have recognized that rich timbre anywhere.
“Yeah. Hi, Troy.” She’d also have recognized him anywhere. Troy was older, they both were, but if anything, he looked even better than he had at twenty. Tall, broad-shouldered and with the same dark brown hair and vivid blue eyes, he was also somehow bigger, with a new air of confidence and leadership. “I didn’t know you were in High Valley.” The last Molly had heard, he’d left the area when she’d gone to college and, unlike her, he’d never come back.
“You two already know each other?” Cole glanced between them.
“I was still living at home the summer Troy worked for us as a hand,” Molly said through numb lips.
“That’s great.” Cole beamed, oblivious to any undercurrents. “Troy and I didn’t cross paths then, but I met him a month ago at a livestock auction. He’s on board as an investor for my stock contracting business. He’s back in town because he bought the Bitterroot Ranch.” Cole looped an arm around Molly’s shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze before turning to Troy. “While she’s here, Molly’s giving me a hand with the business.”
As Cole’s words washed over her, Molly could barely take in what her brother was saying. Troy here? It should be impossible. But, as Cole talked on, a quick glance at Troy assured here he was all too real. So many ranch hands passed through the area, and he was just one more. At least, that was what she’d tried to make herself believe. She’d put her memories of that summer before she left for college out of her mind and heart and thought she’d succeeded.
“Good to see you again, Troy.” Liar. He was the last person she wanted to see. “I should get going. I told my mom I’d help set out the...food.” Another lie, but it was the first thing she thought of. Although she’d offered, the food and everything else tonight was taken care of. All Molly had to do was have fun—which had suddenly become a lot more complicated.
“I should head out.” Troy’s beard-shadowed cheeks reddened. “I only came by to drop off a set of keys. My Realtor forgot them in my car earlier. He said he’d be here tonight, and since I was coming to town I offered to drop them off. I didn’t know it was a party for your mom and brother.”
“No worries. Stay.” Cole clapped Troy’s shoulder. “There’s plenty of food, and some folks will remember you and be glad to catch up.”
“You’d sure be welcome.” Zach echoed Cole’s invitation. Like all the Carters, her brothers were hospitable. Molly usually appreciated having a welcoming family but not now.
She made her way toward her mom on shaky legs. She’d only be here a few months. She’d avoid Troy when she could, but even when they happened to cross paths, they were both adults. It would be fine.
It didn’t matter how a guy like Troy had managed to buy a ranch like the Bitterroot or what he’d been up to in the past nine years. Although, her stomach churned at the memory of his stricken expression as she’d left him in the barn that night.
Back then, after that brief and secret summer romance, she’d thought pursuing anything more with Troy would be the biggest mistake of her life. But now she was older and wiser. Maybe he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Except, she couldn’t admit it because if she did, she’d have to admit other things as well.
She’d made a life in Atlanta, and it was her real life—one Troy Clayton wasn’t part of.
MOLLY CARTER. Troy had been back in High Valley less than twenty-four hours. It figured that the one person he didn’t want to see was who he’d bump into. From everything he’d heard, Molly was long gone and only returned to High Valley for occasional visits. He’d planned to slip into the community center, return the keys to his Realtor and slip out again. Instead, he’d ended up at a Carter family party with a glass of fruit punch in one hand and a plate of food in the other, being welcomed by folks he hardly remembered like he was a long-lost friend.
He ate a cheese puff and tried to pay attention to Mr. Kuntz, a white-haired man who’d owned the town’s feed store before he retired.
“You hit the jackpot buying the Bitterroot Ranch.” Mr. Kuntz nodded approval. “Apart from the Carters’ spread, you won’t find better land between here and the Canadian border. The barns are in good repair, and there’s excellent breeding stock to build on.”
“That’s the idea.” Although Troy had dreamed of owning the Bitterroot Ranch since he and his dad had milked cows there one winter, he’d only made an offer on it because the place was profitable and could become even more so. Along with investing in Cole Carter’s stock contracting venture, buying the ranch was part of Troy’s strategy to diversify his business interests. As a kid on those cold early mornings in the Bitterroot’s milking barn, he’d vowed that he’d take care of his family when he grew up. He’d make sure he and his folks and younger sister would never have to worry about losing their home or where their next meal came from. He’d kept that vow and more, achieving his goals even earlier than he’d planned.
Mr. Kuntz gestured to the crowd, where Molly was crouched among a group of children, her back to Troy. “Molly Carter’s sure grown up into a fine-looking woman. She reminds me of my Theresa. My late wife was a nurse.” Mr. Kuntz’s eyes got misty. “You’ll need a wife and family at the Bitterroot. How many bedrooms does that house have? At least five, right?”
“Yeah.” It had been built when most people had large families. However, Troy wouldn’t let himself think about having a wife and family. While he’d gotten the ranch he wanted, he’d set the rest of his dreams aside to focus on work. Once, he’d imagined sharing that ranch house with Molly, and them having a family to fill those bedrooms, but that was in the past. “I’m happy as I am. I like my own company.” The ranch house, and the acres of land it sat on, were an investment. He’d use the primary bedroom, kitchen and living room and a smaller bedroom as an office. Or maybe he’d rent the house out and move into the bungalow that used to be grandparent accommodation.
Troy stepped aside to let a family group reach the buffet table and got a better view of Molly. Still with her back to him, she now stood in the center of a circle as the children ran around her playing some game. Her honey-blond hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders. In a navy blue dress that skimmed her knees, her outfit was simple, conservative even, but it had gauzy sleeves and a tailored look that drew his attention to her soft curves. It wasn’t the clothes, though. She’d look as good in jeans and a T-shirt mucking out barn stalls. Despite time and the sting of hurt that Troy had buried deep, no other woman matched her and maybe never would.
“You can manage on your own, but why would you want to?” Mr. Kuntz’s voice was wistful. “I used to joke with Theresa and the kids about my ‘man cave’ in the basement. But Theresa passed way too soon, only in her late thirties, and now with our kids grown and gone, having the whole house to myself gets lonely. I cook for myself and have a cleaner, but love and companionship are important.” He patted Troy’s arm. “I hear Molly’s sticking around for a few months. You should make a move before some other fellow does.”
Troy had made his move long ago. Although at first Molly had seemed as keen on him as he was about her, she’d sent him packing at the end of the summer. Wounded, Troy had made sure that kind of rejection would never happen again. Apart from his family and business partner, Pete, he didn’t give his trust easily or depend on others, and kept his relationships casual. Money talked, as the saying went, and he was never sure if people liked him for himself or his bank account. And although his heartbreak over Molly had almost destroyed him, it had also made him more determined to reach his goals.
As several men drew Mr. Kuntz into a conversation about golf, Troy glanced toward the hall’s exit. The speeches were over, and dancing had started. He’d already congratulated the happy couples. If he slipped out now, nobody would notice. He made it as far as the buffet table to set his plate of almost untouched food down when he heard Mr. Kuntz’s booming voice.
“I appreciate the compliment, but you should ask one of the young fellows to dance, not an old geezer like me. What about Troy over there?”
Troy turned and saw Molly standing by the man’s side. Her cheeks went pink when Troy caught her gaze.
“Come here, lad.” Mr. Kuntz waved. “Don’t be shy.”
Except for Molly, Troy had never been shy with women or anyone else. “I’m sure Molly has lots of guys wanting to dance with her.” The color on her cheeks deepened to red. “Besides, I’m leaving.”
“You see?” Molly’s voice was choked.
“Nonsense.” A gray-haired woman came around the table and looked between Molly and Troy. “The party’s only just gotten started.” She extended a hand to Mr. Kuntz. “Let’s show the young folks how it’s done, shall we, Werner?”
“But, Mrs. Shevchenko, I... You...” Molly looked around as if searching for someone to rescue her.
“I’d be delighted.” Mr. Kuntz gave the woman a courtly bow and smiled at Troy. “Nina and I went to school together. We used to compete for who’d get the highest marks in math.”
“I usually won.” Although Nina Shevchenko’s voice was smug, she gave Mr. Kuntz a warm smile. “Welcome back, Troy.” She turned the full wattage of her smile on him. “I’ll drop by this week with a few meals so you don’t have to cook while you’re getting settled. How does lasagna and chicken potpie with a batch of my sunflower cookies and chocolate brownies sound?”
“That would be great, but you don’t need to—”
“It’s no trouble.” She waved away Troy’s protest. “If you’re not home, I’ll leave the food in a cooler on the porch.”
She and Mr. Kuntz joined the dancers, leaving Troy and Molly alone. If he was smart, he’d make his apologies and head right over to that exit. However, when it came to Molly, he’d never been smart. He held out a hand. “Shall we?”
She took it, and her smooth skin against his palm sent shivers up his spine.
“I’ll only dance with you because folks are staring. I don’t want to cause a scene.” As they moved onto the floor with other couples, Molly kept her head bowed.
“I don’t either but...” He swallowed. Of course, it was a slow dance. The romantic waltz, “Harvest Moon Heart” by Rob Georg, with lyrics about true love, was like a knife to Troy’s heart.
“Congratulations on buying the Bitterroot.” As she moved to the music, Molly kept a careful distance between them. “I remember you liked that ranch.”
“I did.” And buying it proved to himself and everyone else that Troy Clayton had made it. He wasn’t the kid whose folks lost the family ranch because of two years of crop failure and his mom being laid off from her town job. He wasn’t a ranch hand any longer either, with most of his meager paycheck going to help his family, or a student juggling school, loans and multiple jobs. He’d worked hard, put himself through college, paid off those loans, sacrificed to be a success and never questioned his choices. “Cole said you live in Atlanta.”
“Yes.” She finally raised her head, and looking into her blue eyes still about winded him. “It’s a great city.”
Although she didn’t say it, there was a “but” there. Maybe what she hadn’t said was even more important.
He nodded. “Before moving here, I was based in California, Silicon Valley, but I’ve been to Atlanta a few times on business.”
“What kind of work do you do?” Her voice was cool, almost as if they were strangers.
“I’m a technology entrepreneur. I start companies and then, after a few years, I sell them.” There was a lot more to it than that, including creativity, a savvy strategy and luck, but Troy loved building something from nothing and seeing it flourish.
“That’s...great.” Molly’s voice hitched. “You were always interested in technical stuff. How are your folks doing? They must be really proud of you.”
“They’re fine. They live in San Francisco.” In a condo Troy bought for them after he sold his first company. Although his folks were proud, sometimes he caught them looking at him with matching concerned expressions. Maybe no matter how much he achieved in business, they worried about him the same as ever, as if he’d somehow failed in life. “My parents are done with Montana winters, but they want to spend their summers here with me. When the Bitterroot came on the market, it was good timing. Real estate’s an excellent investment.” Maybe he’d buy his folks a house in town where they’d have a better chance to make friends and be part of things than out on his ranch.
His gaze caught Molly’s again before he made himself look away. His focus was on the ranch and the climate change start-up he and his business partner had launched a few months ago. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by Molly’s blue eyes or looking for her sweet smile. Even if she hadn’t directed that smile toward him tonight.
“A ranch is more than an ‘excellent investment.’ It’s a place to put down roots from one generation to the next, to care for that land for the future.” As Molly exhaled, her warm breath brushed Troy’s cheek. “You grew up living and working on ranches. I thought... It doesn’t matter. It’s none of my business...” Her voice trailed away.
“It does matter.” Guilt curled in the pit of Troy’s stomach. Had he moved too far away from those roots he’d once cherished and forgotten what land and environmental stewardship meant in reality, as opposed to theory? Even at eighteen, Molly was passionate about what she believed in, and that was one of the things Troy had loved about her. If, at twenty, he’d even known what love was.
The song ended, and Molly dropped his hand. “I promised Cole I’d pitch in with his stock contracting business, and I’d never let him down. But since you’ve invested in his venture, I don’t want it to be awkward.” She hesitated. “I’d rather people didn’t know...about us.” She fiddled with a silver bracelet on her right wrist.
“Of course.” Troy wasn’t about to blab to folks that the only woman he’d ever loved had dumped him.
“Great.” She slid the bangle bracelet up and down her forearm. “We can be colleagues and friends.”
“No, we can’t.” Molly was still way too appealing, and Troy had to keep his distance. “Since I’m the biggest investor in Cole’s business, as well as his partner, technically, that means I’m his boss. Yours too.” He flinched. Even to his own ears, he sounded pompous.
“Oh. Of course.” She backed away.
Troy mentally berated himself. He’d never been a heavy-handed boss and he wouldn’t start now. However, Molly still had a way of breaking down the walls he’d put up and reaching the hurt kid deep inside. The one who was scared, vulnerable and wanted to make his mark in the world but hadn’t yet figured out how. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” Her voice was brittle and her smile artificially bright. “I’m going back to Atlanta in a few months anyway. Until then, you’ll do your job, and I’ll do mine. For Cole, right?”
“Yeah.” Troy stuffed his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out to touch her, to hold her like he once had. Back then it had felt as if, with her in his arms and by his side, he could take on the world. “Cole needed extra capital. In a year or so, I’ll have my investment back and more, and he’ll be on his own again. I believe in him and that he’ll succeed.” Like he’d once believed in Molly, although it wasn’t really the same thing. “I won’t be the kind of boss who breathes down your neck.”
“I never thought you would be. Anyway, I should...mingle.” Molly’s smile was so tight it was more like a grimace.
“Go on, then.” Before she turned away, Troy made himself give what he hoped was a neutral, professional smile while trying to ignore the powerful rush of attraction that drew him to her.
Maybe coming back to this part of Montana was a bad idea. But it was too late now, and Troy wasn’t a quitter. He’d just have to avoid Molly for the next eight or nine weeks. How hard could it be?
