Page 24 of Storm in Montana (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #3)

Brodie guided his horse through the fresh powder as the early morning sun danced off the icy crystals. His breath formed clouds in the morning air, his thoughts divided between the woman he was riding to see and the threats that still lurked in the shadows of the territory.

The ranch house emerged from the morning mist, smoke curling from its chimney into the pale sky.

Annalee stood on the front porch, wrapped in a heavy shawl, as if she’d known he was coming.

Perhaps she had. Their connection had always run deeper than words.

She descended the steps as he dismounted, her boots leaving delicate impressions in the fresh snow.

“Brodie.” His name on her lips carried warmth enough to chase away the winter chill. “I hoped you’d come.”

He tossed the reins over the rail and met her on the porch, conscious of propriety even as his heart urged him closer. “Sleep well?”

“Better than you, I’d guess.” She studied his face, noting the shadows under his eyes. “The outlaw give you trouble?”

“Not the kind involving fists.” Brodie stepped within feet of her. “He takes pride in what he’s done with those wolves. Refuses to help stop them.”

“Then we’ll find another way.”

“We?” The corner of his mouth lifted.

“Aren’t we? Or did yesterday’s conversation mean something different to you?”

Before he could respond, the sound of boots on packed snow drew their attention. Cody emerged from the barn.

“Brodie. Can’t say I’m surprised to find you here.”

“Cody. I came to discuss the man you mentioned. The one who trained wolves when you were hunting bounty.”

“Figure that’s our best lead now?” Cody joined them on the porch, positioning himself so he could watch both the yard and the trail.

“The outlaw’s not cooperating.” Brodie outlined his morning interview, watching Cody’s expression grow darker with each detail.

“Sounds like he’s enjoying the chaos he’s created,” Cody said.

“You mentioned someone in Helena?” Annalee prompted.

Cody nodded. “Met him on the trail. He worked with wolves. Trained them for good purposes. Tracking and herding, the same as those dogs do for the sheepherders. He might know how to undo what’s been done to these. I could send a telegram. Don’t know if he’ll respond.”

“It’s worth a try. I’ll ride with you to send the telegram,” Brodie offered.

“Both of you will ride with me,” Annalee interjected. When they turned to her, she lifted her chin, daring either one to object.

Cody and Brodie exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them before Brodie spoke.

“I have no objection. Besides, three rifles are better than two if we meet trouble.”

“I’ll saddle Cricket.” Annalee touched Brodie’s arm as she passed and hurried to the barn, the contact sending warmth through the thick layer of his coat.

“I, uh… should help her.” Brodie rushed down the steps, ignoring Cody’s unconcealed snicker.

They prepared to ride in silence, sending glances at each other until Annalee took the reins and led Cricket outside. As they mounted, a distant howl echoed across the wide expanse of pristine snow.

“They’re hunting early today,” Cody observed, checking his rifle.

“Not just hunting,” Brodie replied, his eyes scanning the tree line. “Watching. Waiting.”

Annalee guided Cricket between them, her presence a reminder of what they stood to lose if they failed. “Then we’d better move fast.”

They rode out together, three figures against the winter landscape, while behind them, the howls grew closer. In the distance, storm clouds gathered over the mountains, promising more snow and darker skies to come.

The wolves’ cries followed them toward Mystic, a reminder their time was growing short.

The Golden Griddle glowed in the early afternoon light, its windows frosted at the edges from the winter chill.

Inside, Brodie and Annalee sat across from each other at a corner table, the scarred but clean wood between them a neutral zone neither dared to breach.

Steam rose from their coffee cups, twisting upward until disappearing.

Annalee wrapped her fingers around her cup, drawing warmth from the ceramic. The savory aroma of her chicken pot pie mingled with the scent of his medium-rare steak, yet neither had taken more than a few bites.

“It’s been three days since Cody sent the telegram to the man in Helena, and we haven’t heard back,” Brodie said, his voice low enough to avoid the attention of nearby diners. “I don’t think he’s going to respond.”

“The pack’s getting bolder.” She leaned forward. “Grayson said they came within a hundred yards of the ranch house last night.”

“Joshua spotted them near the edge of town yesterday when he returned to Mystic. He estimated there were at least eight of them.”

“Eight?” Her fork stopped midway to her mouth.

“Could’ve been more. Joshua didn’t stop to count them.” He smiled, even though the circumstances didn’t warrant it.

Annalee pushed a flaky crust around her plate, her appetite diminished by worry. “What if you’re right, and we don’t hear back from Helena?”

“Then we’ll handle it ourselves.”

“The way you and Cody used to handle everything when we were kids?” A smile tugged at her lips despite her concern.

“As I recall, you were usually right there with us, no matter how many times we told you to stay behind.”

“Someone had to keep you two out of trouble.”

Their shared laughter softened the tension, and Brodie reached across the table. His hand covered hers, rough calluses against her smooth skin. “You were something else back then. This tiny whirlwind in pigtails, determined to keep up with us after school, during roundup, any chance you got.”

“I wasn’t so tiny.” Annalee’s protest held no heat, especially with his hand still warming hers.

“No bigger than a minute, as your ma would say. Remember the time you tried to saddle your own horse? You couldn’t even reach the horse’s back, so you dragged that heavy saddle up onto a fence post first.”

“I got it done though, didn’t I?”

“That you did.” His thumb traced a small circle on her wrist. “Always did admire your spunk. You never let anything stop you once you set your mind to it.”

Her breath caught as their eyes met again. “Can I tell you something?” Annalee’s voice emerged softer than she intended. “Back then, I wasn’t following Cody around at all.”

Understanding dawned in Brodie’s expression. His fingers tightened gently around hers. “No?”

“No.” She shook her head, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks. “It was always you, Brodie. From the very first day you moved to Mystic.”

The confession hung between them like morning mist, delicate yet impossible to ignore.

Brodie’s thumb stilled against her pulse point, and the din of the restaurant seemed to fade away.

His slow smile broadened to reach his eyes.

Annalee felt years of unspoken feelings crystallize into a single perfect moment.

“Seems I’ve been a fool twice over then,” he said quietly. “For not seeing it back then and for taking so long to see it now.”

Their hands remained linked across the table, neither willing to break the connection. Around them, the everyday sounds of the diner continued. Yet they existed in their own pocket of time, where decades of friendship teetered on the edge of something more.

The moment stretched, sweet and fragile, until their waitress approached with a dented coffee pot. They drew their hands back, fingers trailing apart with reluctance. Yet even as they returned to their cooling meals, something definitive had shifted between them.

The bell above the Golden Griddle’s door chimed as Brodie held it open for Annalee. Outside, the afternoon sun had lost its warmth, though its light still heated the boardwalk.

Annalee adjusted her shawl against the chill, aware of Brodie’s presence beside her. The boardwalk creaked beneath their boots as they stepped away from the restaurant’s entrance. Before either could speak, voices carried from around the corner of Jennings Mercantile.

“—should be enough flour to last the month.” Naomi Beckett’s familiar tone preceded her appearance. She rounded the corner with Nathan in tow, his arms laden with paper-wrapped packages. “Annalee. What a pleasant surprise,” her mother called out.

Naomi’s keen eyes took in her daughter’s flushed cheeks and Brodie’s protective stance. Her smile deepened, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of her eyes. “Brodie, I trust you’re keeping my daughter out of mischief?”

“More like the other way around.” Brodie touched the brim of his hat. “Though I doubt anyone could keep her from whatever she sets her mind to.”

“You’d know better than most.” Naomi’s gaze flickered between them. “Nathan, stop shifting those packages around before you drop them all.”

“They’re slipping,” Nathan protested, readjusting his grip on the parcels. His auburn hair caught the sunlight, so similar to Annalee’s own chestnut waves. “And my arms are going numb.”

“Then you should have let me carry half, like I offered.” Naomi took two packages from him, then turned back to Brodie. “You’ll join us for supper tonight, won’t you? I’m making beef stew with dumplings.”

Brodie hesitated, his gaze finding Annalee’s. She gave him a slight nod, hope brightening her expression. “I’d be honored, ma’am. Though I need to finish my rounds first.”

“I thought I might stay in town for a bit,” Annalee added. “I’ll visit with Faith at the newspaper office. Maybe ride back with Brodie later, if that’s all right?”

“Of course it is.” Naomi’s tone held volumes of understanding. “Though mind you don’t stay too late. The wolves have been bold lately.”

“I’ll see her home safe,” Brodie promised. His hand brushed Annalee’s elbow, a touch so brief it might have been accidental. Might have been, if not for the way his fingers lingered against the fabric of her sleeve.

“I know you will.” Naomi’s smile carried echoes of her youth when she’d first arrived in Montana Territory as a Philadelphia bride. She glanced at Nathan. “Let’s get these supplies to the wagon before your arms fall off.”

“Finally,” Nathan muttered, though his complaints held no real weight. He winked at his sister as he passed. “Don’t be late for supper.”

They watched Naomi and Nathan continue down the boardwalk, their footsteps creating a rapping against the wooden planks. When Brodie turned to Annalee, his expression had softened into something rarely seen by anyone in Mystic.

He lowered his voice. “I’ll finish my rounds quick as I can. Meet you here at four?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Her smile carried the warmth of summer despite the winter chill. “Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They parted, each stepping in opposite directions. Yet before they moved out of sight, both turned back for one final glance. Their gazes met across the distance, holding a conversation without words.