Beneath Montana Skies

This cowboy is back home to start over...

but two adorable surprises wait at Mustang Ridge

After one wild ride too many, rodeo star Tyler Wilkins is back in his Montana hometown starting from scratch. But he sure didn’t expect to find that he and Morgan Whittaker—the feisty rancher he left behind—have two adorable daughters. Can this reckless cowboy become a man Morgan will trust enough to earn the title of daddy…and possibly husband?

MIA ROSS loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at miaross.com.

Also by Mia Ross

Mustang Ridge

Beneath Montana Skies

Liberty Creek

Mending the Widow’s Heart

The Bachelor’s Baby

His Two Little Blessings

Oaks Crossing

Her Small-Town Cowboy

Rescued by the Farmer

Hometown Holiday Reunion

Falling for the Single Mom

Barrett’s Mill

Blue Ridge Reunion

Sugar Plum Season

Finding His Way Home

Loving the Country Boy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Beneath Montana Skies

Mia Ross

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09045-2

BENEATH MONTANA SKIES

© 2018 Andrea Chermak

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“Allie and Hannah are my daughters, aren’t they, Morgan?” Tyler asked.

“No, Ty, they’re my daughters.” Tapping her chest for emphasis, Morgan went on, “They’re Whittakers, end of story.”

Folding his arms, he scowled down at her. Then his demeanor shifted, and he grimaced as if she’d sucker punched him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a quiet voice laced with regret.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” she shot back. “You walked out on me with no explanation, no forwarding address. I didn’t think you were exactly father material.”

Tyler absorbed that in silence, a woeful look settling into an expression she’d never seen on him before.

Gazing out the door toward the house, he turned back to her with the firm jaw she recalled so well. “I would’ve found a way to make it work for us. You know that. You never even gave me a chance.”

Morgan had to acknowledge that he was right, and the twinge of guilt she felt grew more insistent even as she tried to reason it away...

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Mustang Ridge!

I’ve always wanted to write a story set out West somewhere, and I had an absolute blast with this one. The idea came to me one night while my family and I were watching a documentary about a small town in Montana that was fighting against planned mining and energy development. What struck me was that the people waging this battle were everyday folks: farmers, ranchers and small business owners. They banded together to keep those changes from destroying the wild beauty of the land they treasured.

Morgan Whittaker stepped onto that same stage, strong, determined and ready to meet any challenge. Or so she thought. As capable as this rancher and single mom had always been, she quickly realized that her latest effort would require a team dedicated to keeping her hometown the way it was meant to be. She had plenty of courage when it came to animals and hard work, but taking on a challenge this huge required her to lean on her strong faith and trust in someone she’d long thought was out of her life forever.

After all he’d been through, Ty Wilkins needed some of that faith himself to start his life over. He found it in the smiles of the daughters he met for the first time. Forging a connection with them instantly, he was willing to do whatever it took to be part of their lives. Forgiving himself for past mistakes was another story. Once he did, he was open to embracing a future with Morgan, creating the kind of family he’d always longed for.

This is just the beginning of the story of Mustang Ridge. I’m looking forward to finding out what happens next!

If you’d like to stop in and see what I’ve been up to, you’ll find me online at www.miaross.com, Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads. While you’re there, send me a message. I’d love to hear from you!

Mia Ross

Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.

—Luke 6:37

For all the people fighting to keep our wild lands wild.

Acknowledgments

To Melissa Endlich and the dedicated staff at Love Inspired. These very talented folks help me make my books everything they can be.

More thanks to the gang at Seekerville (www.seekerville.Blogspot.com), a great place to hang out with readers—and writers.

I’ve been blessed with a wonderful network of supportive, encouraging family and friends. You inspire me every day!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

“Hey there, cowgirl.”

Holding a fifty-pound bag of sweet feed balanced on her shoulder, Morgan Whittaker froze in midstep. It couldn’t be, she thought, before it occurred to her that was just wishful thinking. The once-familiar voice behind her could only belong to one person, and although she hadn’t heard that smooth tenor in ages, she’d recognize it anywhere.

Very slowly, she turned halfway around and let her eyes confirm her suspicion. Thankfully, she was wearing her mirrored aviator sunglasses, so he couldn’t see the contempt she knew must be plain in her eyes. “Tyler Wilkins. What’re you doing here in Mustang Ridge?”

Under the brim of his cream-colored Stetson, the gold tinting his hazel eyes sparked with a bit of his infamous temper. But it quickly mellowed, replaced by one of those easygoing grins that had charmed her—and countless other women—for so long. “Well, now, last time I checked, this was my hometown, too. I haven’t been to Montana in a while, so I figured it was time for me to make a visit.”

“I’d say seven years is more than a while.” For her, it was a lifetime ago. She was almost thirty now, and for her those days were a distant memory. From the look of things, nothing had changed for him, except that his rangy, athletic build had filled out a bit. He was more solid now, but she knew from hard-won experience that was just an illusion. There had never been anything solid about Ty. Unfortunately for her, she’d discovered the truth about him too late. “And since it’s June, shouldn’t you be headed to Reno for that big roundup I read about? The article said the humongous rodeo purse is drawing every able-bodied cowboy west of the Mississippi.”

Something flashed across his weathered features, and for a brief moment she thought it almost looked like regret. Then again, the cocky bull rider had never been prone to remorse, even when he was clearly in the wrong. The look vanished quickly, and she decided it had just been a trick of the sunlight and shadows underneath the overhang that shaded the sidewalk in front of Big Sky Feed and Seed.

“Not goin’ this year,” he said simply, hooking his thumbs into his wide leather belt.

She noticed that he wasn’t wearing his prized silver champions buckle because, really, you couldn’t miss one of those if you tried. Something about him wasn’t adding up for her, and while she shouldn’t care, she had to admit that she was suddenly curious about what had brought him home. Figuring it couldn’t hurt to ask, she dove in boots first. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer, and when he took a step toward her, she instinctively pulled away. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking that bag of feed before it caves your shoulder in.”

Suddenly aware that she’d slumped a bit under the weight, she straightened up and glared back at him. “I’m perfectly capable of handling it myself.”

“Suit yourself.”

He didn’t retreat, but he did drop his hands. Realizing that people were beginning to stare at them, she ignored his helpful gesture and heaved the bag into the back of her 4x4. She turned to catch him wearing an expression that struck her as being almost mournful before a half grin rushed in to replace it. “To answer your question about the rodeo, I’m just taking some time off. No big deal.”

Any idiot could tell there was more to the story than that, but she didn’t have the time or the patience to drag anything more out of him. Besides, he was obviously not keen to talk about it, or he would have spilled his guts to her already. She still couldn’t believe he’d approached her in the middle of the street this way. Then again, he’d probably been hoping that a meeting in public would keep things between them more or less civil. Apparently, he’d gotten smarter since the last time she saw him.

She’d mostly recovered from the shock of seeing him, so she called up her backbone and opened the driver’s door. “Well, enjoy your vacation. Bye.”

She climbed into the cab and reached out to pull the door closed, but he stopped it with a strong hand scarred from years of rope burns and broken bones. Glancing down at the door and then up at her, he asked, “What’s this decal for the Mustang Ridge Conservancy about? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a new organization in town,” she explained as patiently as she could. “There’s a group of local residents working to make sure this area stays the way it is and out of the clutches of a big energy developer that’s been sniffing around the last few months.”

“Looking for what?”

“Natural gas and oil. That may or may not be under the ground, and may or may not be feasible to pump out of where it is.”

A slow grin worked its way across the face that was still way too handsome for the good of any woman within ten miles. “You sound mad.”

“I am,” she spat. “What they’ve got in mind will destroy the environment, and the idea of it makes me furious. My family’s been here on our original homestead for generations, and so have plenty of others. If we have anything to say about it, that land will stay the way it’s always been.”

“Sounds like a tough job.”

“We’ll figure it out.” They had to, she added silently, because the alternative wasn’t even worth thinking about.

“Speaking of your family, I was hoping to stop by and see JD while I’m in town. Ya think that’d be okay?”

Her father would probably take one look at his visitor and start choosing a shotgun from the rack in his den. In all honesty, Morgan thought that would be entertaining to watch. “It’s fine with me. If he doesn’t want to see you, I have no doubt he’ll tell you so.”

Ty stared at her through narrowed eyes, the brim of his hat adding an old gunslinger effect to the look. After a moment, though, that infernal grin was back in place. “We’re neighbors, so we’re gonna have to deal with each other at some point. No time like the present, right?”

Morgan didn’t really care if he dropped off the face of the earth and was never seen again. But that sounded childish, even to her, so she went with a noncommittal shrug. “Whatever.”

“My truck’s over there,” he commented, nodding to a flashy silver extended cab model parked across the street. It made her keenly aware that the mud-spattered vehicle she was driving was looking pretty ragged these days. “Mind if I follow you out there?”

“Whatever.”

This time, he wisely let her close the door. She gave it a little more muscle than was strictly necessary, and the slam echoed off the two-story buildings that flanked both sides of the small Main Street business district. She started the engine, then noticed that he was still hanging in the open window, arms spread wide as if he was reluctant to let her go. Tamping down her impatience to be free of him, she glowered up at him. “Was there something else, Ty?”

“Yeah.” After a deep breath, he grimaced and said the words she’d given up on ever hearing. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she demanded, his remorse only adding fuel to her temper. “Slinking out of Houston in the middle of the night, or never having the guts to tell me why?”

“Both, and all the other things I did wrong with you. With us,” he added in a somber tone. “You deserved better than what you got from me, but I want you to know that I honestly loved you.”

A flood of long-buried emotions was threatening to swamp her good sense, but Morgan ruthlessly shoved them back into the dark recesses of her heart where they belonged. The boy she’d once loved had let her down in the worst conceivable way, and no matter how handsome or contrite the man standing in front of her seemed to be, she had no intention of letting him off the hook now. Or ever.

“Thanks. You know the way.”

As she started the engine, he gave her the kind of lost-puppy-dog look that she’d never seen from the arrogant cowboy she’d known most of her life.

“Can you forgive me?” he asked.

Angling a look at him from behind her sunglasses, she cocked her head in a show of considering his request. And then, because he totally deserved it, she brought the hammer down on him. “No.”

With that, she shifted into Reverse and backed out of her spot, not caring whether she ran over his fancy riding boots or not. She caught sight of him in her rearview and tried not to be jealous of him as he strode across the street and beeped his truck open with one of those fancy new key fobs that did everything but order pizza for you.

Who did he think he was, anyway, she fumed while she sped out of town and toward the sanctuary of her family’s ranch. Ambushing her like that, apologizing as if what he’d done to her was no big deal?

It had been an enormous, life-altering deal for her, and while things had turned out well enough, she resented the fact that he’d been able to blithely go on to enjoy a fabulous career when she’d had to sacrifice her own.

That was in the past now, she reminded herself, feeling the wind pick up as she increased her speed outside the town limits. Not far from the quaint shops and vintage theater, the scenery changed dramatically, and she felt her temper subsiding as she looked around her at the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. Mile after mile of wild beauty and rolling free-range pastureland flew past, broken up by ranches and small farms that seemed to be part of the landscape instead of built on top of it. Off in the distance the sun reflected off the southern face of the Bridger Mountains, giving them a cloud-like appearance that was still unlike anything she’d ever seen.

During her rodeo career, she’d traveled all over the country, racking up one barrel-racing trophy after another because she and her half-mustang palomino, Sadie, were just a tick crazier than their competition. But no city or town she’d ever been to could hold a candle to home. That was what made it home, she supposed as she turned into the long drive marked by a hand-carved sign that read Whittaker Ranch—1882.

Driving between long lines of board fence, she caught sight of her mare and smiled for the first time since Ty had rattled her in town. She pulled over and was mildly annoyed when he followed suit. Determined not to let him ruin her moment, she grabbed some dried apple slices from the stash she kept in the glove box and got out.

Sadie’s ears perked up when Morgan came around the car and headed for the fence. Nickering a greeting, the gorgeous horse tossed her head like the diva she was and pushed against the top rail, craning her neck to reach the treats.

“Hold on to yourself,” Morgan teased, using her father’s equine version of hold your horses. Sadie angled a look at her, and she laughed as she held out a handful of Sadie’s favorite snack. They were gone in an instant, and while she was snuffling around for more, she noticed Ty.

Blowing out an excited breath, she danced along the rail to where he was standing, arms spread over the top as if he’d been waiting for her to notice him. He showed her his empty hands, but apparently she didn’t mind that he didn’t have anything for her. Nosing under his palm, she nudged him into petting her cheek, then ruffling her forelock the way she liked.

“Traitor,” Morgan grumbled, but the horse didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t happy.

“How are you, Sadie girl?” their unwelcome visitor cooed, a bright smile lighting his face. “It’s been so long, I wasn’t sure you’d remember me. Clyde’s on his way, should be here day after tomorrow. Maybe we’ll come by and you two can get reacquainted.”

“If Clyde’s coming, you must be planning to stay,” Morgan said, hoping she sounded casual about the prospect. She’d assumed he was on vacation, and learning that he was planning to stick around awhile didn’t exactly thrill her.

“Not sure right now,” he hedged, rubbing Sadie’s cheek in a pitifully obvious attempt to avoid Morgan’s gaze.

Typical Ty, she thought bitterly. Look up commitmentphobe in the dictionary, you’d probably find his picture. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She didn’t want to care, but there was a teeny tiny part of her that still did. Stupid, but true.

A bit of compassion for him bubbled free of her control, and she heard herself saying, “Well, I’m sure you’ll get it all figured out.”

Glancing up from under his hat, he gave her the kind of sheepish look she’d never seen on him before. “Thanks.”

He’d stopped petting Sadie, and the spirited animal snorted her disapproval. Clearly out of patience, she gave another head toss before wheeling away from the fence and galloping off in the stunning burst of speed that had made her—and her fortunate rider—a champion many times over.

“Still gorgeous,” Ty murmured, his gaze tracking the mare as she seemed to float over the ground. Then he looked over at Morgan, and his mouth crinkled in the boyish half grin that had first buckled her knees as a teenager. “Both of you.”

It was a blatant attempt at getting on her good side, making her forget that he’d abandoned her after one of their infamous fights and had never looked back. Scowling at him for all she was worth, Morgan turned on her heel and stalked back to her car. That’s what she got for showing him some sympathy, she railed silently as the engine roared to life and she jammed the transmission into gear. The sound of gravel spitting out from under the tires perfectly matched her mood as she flew up the driveway toward the house.

If Ty Wilkins thought a few sad looks and canned compliments were going to undo what he’d done to her, that cowboy had another think coming. Once he left town, everything would go back to the way it was before he showed up. She just wished he hadn’t taken it into his head to make a detour to Mustang Ridge.

She could have happily lived the rest of her life never laying eyes on him again.

Still a spitfire.

The thought flew through Ty’s mind almost as fast as Morgan’s 4x4 was speeding away from him. During his long drive up from Texas, he’d spent a lot of his time picturing what it might be like when he encountered the fiery cowgirl again. Some of the scenarios had been downright frightening, to the point that he’d almost reconsidered the wisdom of his approach.

Then it had occurred to him that he owned nothing in this world except a few acres of land, some rodeo trophies and his truck.

Although the truck wouldn’t be his much longer, he reminded himself grimly. He’d be delivering it to its new owner tomorrow, and then he’d start hunting for something he could afford. After hitting rock bottom a few months ago, he’d come dangerously close to being forced to sell his horse. By sheer, stubborn will, he’d managed to hold on to the prized cutting horse, but it had been a near thing. He’d gotten some insane offers, but even for a down-and-out cowboy, some things were priceless.

He might have lost everything else—including his dignity—but he still had Clyde. It was one of the few victories he could claim recently. Actually, he amended as he eased himself into the cab to follow Morgan, it was the only victory. That was the unexpected advantage he’d discovered in losing pretty much everything you once considered important. Whatever you had left meant a lot more to you.

At the end of the driveway was the same sprawling farmhouse he recalled from his childhood. Driving toward it, he admired the menagerie of animals grazing in the two pastures that flanked the gravel lane. While they came across as gritty ranchers, in truth the Whittakers were all softhearted critter collectors who couldn’t seem to turn away anything that needed a home. Among the kaleidoscopic herd of about twenty horses, he spotted several goats, a cluster of sheep and something that looked suspiciously like a miniature camel.