Chapter 11

It was still dark when Mike Paul fell out of bed. Half asleep and in need of coffee, he headed for the kitchen, set the machine to brew, and then stumbled into the shower. He was running on zero sleep. His mind was too keyed up, and damned if he hadn’t stared at the ceiling all night, listening to the dogs snore.

He let it run cold for a couple of minutes, and when his eyes didn’t feel like they’d been poked by a thousand fire ants, he turned up the heat and let the water work its magic.

By the time he was done showering, the smell of coffee permeated the air. He got dressed, noting the time was just before five a.m. Weiner raised his head from his spot on the bed and yawned while Bun stretched his legs in the air, letting pretty much everything hang out. The dogs gave him a curious once over and settled back to sleep.

“Nice life,” he said as he headed to the kitchen. He needed caffeine, some eggs and bacon, and then an early start if he was going to be at Ivy’s at seven o’clock. He grinned at the thought and whistled to himself as he got busy in the kitchen. Half an hour later, he pulled on winter boots, his coat, and a wool hat, then let himself outside.

It was quiet. And big. And like so many other mornings before, it took his breath away. Stars still clung to the night sky, ignoring the shot of amber that teased from the horizon, and with snow crunching underfoot, he hunched his shoulders against the cold and headed for the barn. He had animals to look after and then a day to organize. Once he fed and watered the animals in his care, he dispensed meds, pulled some blood for the lab, and wrote a quick note for Jacob, who was due to come and clean out the stalls, pens, and kennels before school. By now, it was just after six. Mike Paul closed up and strode over to his office. Once inside, he made a fresh pot of coffee—Arlene was the kind of woman who needed caffeine as much as she needed air. While it brewed, he had a look over his day planner.

He smiled and nodded. It was a full day, which meant he had at least eight hours to work on thawing out the cold wind that whispered in Ivy’s ear. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked forward to the challenge.

With fifteen minutes to spare, Mike Paul tossed back another cup of joe and listened to his voicemail. He made a note to call a couple of folks back, then went and got his road kit ready. He was about to head outside when the door opened, and Arlene walked inside, shaking snow from her boots. She was small, round, and fierce—ran his office better than anyone could.

She was also nosy as hell, most certainly a spy for his mother, and had no qualms about putting her two cents into his business without him asking.

“You’re headed out early,” she said, doffing her hat. Her silver curls stood out in crazy spirals, electrified and static, and she smoothed them back into place before hanging up her coat.

“So are you.”

“I wanted an early start because I’m leaving at three-thirty. It’s my grandson’s Christmas play at school.” She practically beamed. “He’s one of the Wise Men.” She moved toward the coffee machine. “What’s your excuse?”

“I have to pick up someone before I head to my first call.”

“That so.” Arlene planted her glasses onto her face, poured a full cup, then added four sugars and a dollop of cream. “I hope you know what you’re doing, my boy.” She faced him, her eyes soft and kind of concerned. “You’re playing with fire, and if you’re not careful, you’ll feel the sting of it.”

There was no use denying anything. Hell, most of Big Bend probably knew today was the day that Mike Paul was going to take his shot. But still, a man had pride, so he did what he did best. He deflected. “It’s a charity thing, Arlene. Nothing more.” His words were even, and he opened the door, not in the mood for a lecture.

“If you say so.”

He ignored the comment. “Can you let out the dogs for me in a bit?”

“Sure can.”

“Oh, and Weiner needs his allergy medication. It’s?—”

“In the cupboard by the fridge.”

“Right.” He took one step forward. “You don’t need to make my bed.”

“No, but I will.” She winked and made a shooing motion.

Mike Paul closed the door behind him and jogged over to his truck. It was already running and warm—thank God for automatic starters—and once he tossed in his road kit, he slipped inside and tried to relax despite the nervous ball of crap inside his stomach.

You got this.

Shit, he thought. This was too important to give in to nerves. He rolled his shoulders, cranked his neck, turned up the music, and hit the road.

The ride out to Millie Sue’s old place took a bit. There’d been more snow overnight, but so far, the backroads hadn’t been cleared properly. He took his time and pulled up to her driveway at ten minutes after seven. A large SUV was running, the exhaust a plume of smoke that billowed in the cold. Light spilled from the large bay window, and he could see two shadows moving inside.

The thought of Lafferty and Ivy sharing the same space made his gut roil, and he wished he hadn’t had all that bacon. Putting his game face firmly in place, Mike Paul headed up onto the porch and gave a quick knock. Muffled sounds came from inside, and he was about to give another knock when the door opened, and the Yank he didn’t much care for, stood back and gave a sly grin. Lafferty had been good enough to accept his apology the week before, but they weren’t exactly friends. The weird thing was, Mike Paul was generally good at reading people, but this one, he couldn’t figure out.

“Morning,” Lafferty said.

Mike Paul gave a small nod and stepped inside. The two men were of similar build, though he had at least an inch on Lafferty. That might not mean much to most, and at six foot five, it wasn’t something Mike Paul normally thought much of, but right now, he would take any kind of win over the man who’d put a ring on Ivy’s finger.

He noted the guy was dressed for travel, and there was a small bag next to the door.

“You headed back to the city?” Mike Paul gave a nod to the bag.

“Japan.”

Interesting. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “That’s a bit of a hike.”

“Twelve-hour flight.”

“You gone for long?” The question slipped from his mouth before he had a chance to think properly, and he swore silently. He didn’t want to come across as pathetic, even though he kinda was.

“Long enough.”

“You seem like a busy guy.”

A slow grin crept over the man’s face, and Mike Paul’s hands fisted. He squared his shoulders.

“Hey.” The soft voice came from behind Lafferty, who took a step back as Ivy came into view. Her hair was loose, just the way Mike Paul liked it, and her blue eyes, amplified from her glasses, sparkled. Her skin was fresh, her cheeks as rosy as her lips. Dressed in a plain white T-shirt, blue and white plaid button-down, and a pair of jeans that fit her curves the way God intended, she literally took his breath away.

Mike Paul cleared his throat and worked hard to appear sane. “Hey, yourself,” he managed to say without sounding like a buffoon.

“Cold out there?” she asked, moving closer.

“The wind’s not too bad.”

“Oh, good.” An awkward silence fell, and he shuffled his feet.

“Okay, babe, you two have fun.” Kip turned around, and Mike Paul’s jaw clenched tightly when the man leaned down and kissed Ivy. He murmured something so low, Mike Paul couldn’t hear it, and then grabbed up his bag. “Take care of my girl,” he said lightly, then over his shoulder. “I’ll call you when I land, and I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

“I’m counting on it.” Her voice had some rasp like she hadn’t been up for long. Kip gave one last nod to Mike Paul and then left the two of them alone.

“We’re really doing this?”

“We are,” he replied lightly.

She sighed and shrugged. “Okay, well, I should, um, grab my coat.” She pointed to the hall that led to the bedrooms, and Mike Paul nodded. She wasn’t gone more than a minute, and she scooped up a bag from the counter on her return. “Lunch.”

“Right. Good call.”

Ivy stopped a few inches from him, a wary look on her face. “I’m not going to have to deliver anything, am I? Having babies is messy, and I don’t do well with all that bodily fluid stuff.”

Mike Paul grinned. “Not on the agenda.” Then he winked. “Though I might have to get your help with a castration.”

“I can handle a castration,” she said, pulling on her boots. She grabbed a white fluffy hat and pulled it over her head. “Or two, depending.”

“Yeah?” He opened the door. “Depending on what?”

“If you behave yourself.” She sailed past him. “I mean it, Mike Paul. No funny business today. This is only for charity.”

“Noted.”

“Give me your word.” She yanked on the passenger door of his truck and paused. “I’m fulfilling an obligation. That’s all this is. Any ulterior motives need to disappear. Got it?”

There was no point in denying his reasons. “Then why did you agree to come along?” he replied.

“To prove a point.”

“What’s that?”

She held his gaze a few seconds longer and then climbed into his truck without answering. Mike Paul walked around his rig, whistling a tune. He was gonna pull out all the stops today. Use every trick in his considerable bag.

And if that didn’t work? He’d dig for more.

He put the truck into gear and backed out of her driveway. Then turned it north, heading toward the mountains.

“We’re headed to Dal’s place first.”

Ivy’s reply was a grunt, and Mike Paul had to turn his head so she wouldn’t see his?—

“I know you’re smiling, so you can cut it out.” She pulled out her phone, put in earbuds, and began to scroll through her apps.

She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, but Mike Paul was okay with that because, like his grandfather—God rest his soul—had told him once, nothing worth anything in life is easy. Told him it was the hard stuff that mattered because the hard stuff lasted. Ivy was hard.

He turned up the music and settled in for the ride out to the Henhawk place. The sun made the snow sparkle, and as they climbed higher up into the mountains, Ivy began to take more of an interest. Montana was especially beautiful this time of the year, and the sight of all that new, pristine snow transforming the treetops and valleys into a winter wonderland made a man feel small.

It was big out here. Took a certain kind of person to call this state home. It bred strength because it had to. You didn’t survive a Montana winter unless your roots were strong. His family had lived in Montana since the early 20s when a young buck by the name of John Darlington and his young bride had come from England to make a new life. They’d put down the kind of foundation that held, and as he glanced over to Ivy, he knew he wanted the same thing.

“What?” she asked, catching his eye before he could turn away. She pulled one of her earbuds out and raised an eyebrow.

“We’re here,” he said, pulling into Henhawk’s driveway.

“Oh.” Her reply was quiet. “Right.”

Mike Paul pulled in behind Dallas’s truck, and the two of them hopped out of the rig. He grabbed his bag and headed for the barn, figuring Dallas would be there.

He was right.

But the man wasn’t alone. He was busy kissing his wife and had her up against the wall when he and Ivy walked inside.

“Woah,” Mike Paul said with a grin. “Do you guys need us to leave and come back?”

Vivian peeked her head over Dallas’s shoulder. “Shoot, you’re early. And you brought Ivy.”

“It’s an auction thing,” Ivy said quickly. “I’m just along for the ride.”

“I heard something about that.” Vivian grinned and shot her new husband a quick look.

“Guess you’re still in the honeymoon phase.” Mike Paul set down his bag.

The couple had been married the week before. A small affair at the courthouse attended by Vivian’s pal Jack, the rest of the Bridgestones, and Dallas’s sister.

“Will be for as long as I can make it last,” Vivian said, pulling on a piece of straw that was stuck in her hair. “We decided to officially go away after the holidays.”

“Where you headed?” Ivy asked.

“We’re not sure. I think we’re just going to pack light and see where we land.”

“Trust me,” Dallas said, “this one doesn’t know how to pack light.”

Vivian laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to her guests. “Have you had coffee yet? I was going inside to brew a fresh pot.”

“I’m good,” Mike Paul replied.

“I never turn down a fresh cup.” Ivy smiled.

Dallas came over while the woman chatted near the door. He looked at Mike Paul, then back at the women. With a shake of his head, the man ran his hands over his beard and winced. “I hope like hell you know what you’re doing.”

Mike Paul glanced over his shoulder. Ivy was laughing at something Vivian had said. The dimple on her right cheek was pronounced, and there were tears in her eyes.

“Sometimes a man has to listen to his gut.” She was so damn beautiful it hurt to look at her.

“And what’s your gut saying?”

“I have to see this through no matter what.”

Dallas frowned. “I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but the lady is wearing another man’s ring.”

Only a hundred times. “I’m aware.”

“There’s a line a man doesn’t cross.”

He glanced up at Henhawk. “If I thought Lafferty could make her happy, I’d back off. He’s not right for her.”

“She might disagree.”

“She might. I guess time will tell.” His reply was clipped. This was all or nothing. Either he won her back or lived half a life.

“Bring the heifer over,” Mike Paul said to Dallas.

He didn’t plan on living half a life.