Merry & Wild (The Wilds of Montana #0.5)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

JOY

“ I don’t even know how you can tell where the road is, the drifts are so bad.” I glance over at John and feel my stomach tighten with worry. I sincerely don’t want to get stuck out here.

“Like I said, I know this property inside out. Don’t worry, it’s not too deep right here.” He reaches over and takes my hand, lifts it to his lips, and kisses my knuckles, all without taking his eyes away from where he’s sure the road is. “So, my great-grandparents bought this land close to a hundred years ago.”

“How many acres do you have?”

“About fifty thousand,” he replies, and my mouth drops.

“That’s a lot of property.”

He nods and releases my hand so he can maneuver the truck around a fallen tree. “I’ll come back later and saw that up. It’ll be good firewood for next year.”

“Why not this year?”

“It has to dry out,” he says with a smile. “Anyway, yeah, it’s a lot of land. That’s why I need ranch hands because it’s pretty much impossible to keep tabs on everything on a piece of property this big. Look over there.”

He points to what looks like abandoned buildings in the distance.

“We can’t get over there today, but that’s the original barn from way back.”

“Why did they build it so far from the cabin?”

“I’m not sure. The walls gave out on it about twenty years ago, and it collapsed, but I’ve been thinking about salvaging the wood from it and using it for something else.”

“That would be cool.”

There are black cattle in the center of a field, all together in a big huddle.

“They must be keeping warm,” I say, pointing to them.

“Yep, and keeping their babies warm. The calves are in the middle.”

“It’s a wonder they don’t freeze to death.”

“Some do,” he says, and I glance over to see a sadness in his eyes. “I can’t control the weather, and I can’t keep them all in the barn. We usually get one or two fatalities each winter.”

“That would make me so sad.”

He nods and then shifts the truck into four-wheel drive and proceeds to drive up the side of a hill.

“Oh, God, we’re going to die.”

John laughs at that and shakes his head as we level out at the top of the hill.

“No, ma’am. It’s perfectly safe. Open your eyes.”

“No way.”

I feel him take the truck out of gear, and then he reaches for my hand. “Joy. Open your pretty eyes for me.”

I comply, but I turn to look at him, not down the hill.

“Are you afraid of heights, sweetheart?”

“Maybe a little.”

“You’re safe with me. Nothing will happen to you up here. Look, the snow has let up, and the view is just fine.”

I take a deep breath, working up my courage, and then turn my gaze to the windshield, and feel myself gasp. “Holy Toledo,” I mutter. “John, this is gorgeous. You can see all the way into Bitterroot Valley from here.”

“We’re technically part of the Bitterroot Valley,” he says. “It’s funny because they named the town the same as the valley.”

“That’s the ski mountain,” I exclaim, pointing. “Wow, this is an incredible view.”

“Are you glad you opened your eyes?”

“Definitely.” I smile over at him and then look out around us once more. “Do you get a lot of wildlife out here?”

“Of course. Deer, moose, bear, lions, badgers, you name it.”

“Bear?”

“Grizzlies and black bears. This is Montana, honey.”

“I know,” I reply with a chuckle. “I just don’t like running into bears.”

“Have you before?”

“Yeah.” I nod but don’t take my eyes off the view. “I went hiking once with a friend, and we were talking and laughing, being kind of loud, the way you’re supposed to when you’re hiking in the woods. But we turned a corner, and there was a mama grizzly with two cubs.”

“Oh, shit,” he mutters.

“Yeah, that’s what we said. We didn’t panic, although I kind of did on the inside, and we just slowly started backing up, never turning our backs on her. She watched us, and the cubs started walking toward us, and we definitely didn’t want that.”

“No,” he replies and reaches for my hand. “You didn’t want that.”

“So, I started talking, like I am right now. Saying things like, ‘We’re not going to hurt you, but you can’t come any closer, or your mom will be mad, and we don’t want to make her mad.’ They kind of stopped and watched us, then ran back to their mom. And we kept walking away.”

“You were lucky.”

“Oh, I know it. So, I won’t be walking anywhere on this ranch alone.”

“Excellent idea. But we usually carry a firearm.”

I gasp and turn to him in horror. “You kill them?”

“No.” He shakes his head and smiles. “No, we fire a warning shot in the air, and that usually scares them off.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

We’re quiet for a long moment, and I glance at the radio. “Does that work?”

“Sure. What would you like to listen to?”

I reach down and turn it on, then grin when I hear that it’s tuned to the local rock station. “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi comes through the speakers, and John and I both start singing along.

“I love Bon Jovi,” I say when the song is over, listening for the next. And when it’s Journey, I sigh in happiness. “Love this one, too.”

“Come here,” John says and flips the sound up super high, rolls down his window, and steps out of the truck, motioning for me to join him.

“It’s cold as hell out here,” I say with a laugh as I walk right into his arms.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he assures me and opens his jacket and wraps it around me so I’m cocooned in him, and then he starts to sway, dancing with me to “Faithfully” on the top of this hill, with our home spread out around us.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more at peace than I do on this ranch. Maybe it’s the land, maybe it’s this man—I’m not sure—but I do know that I’ve never felt more at home anywhere else in my life. It’s as though what I was searching for all along was right here.

I just had to come home to find it.

“I’m forever yours,” he sings along with the song, “faithfully.”

“Such a dreamy song,” I say with a happy sigh.