USA TODAY bestselling author Leanne Banks returns to Rust Creek Falls, the setting for the popular Montana Mavericks: Rust Creek Cowboys, where a cowboy is sure to find love—when he least expects it!

Rust Creek Ramblings

Ever since volunteer coordinator Lissa Roarke rolled into town with her fancy luggage and metropolitan attitude, Sheriff Gage Christensen has been fit to be tied. Everything about Lissa seems to rub Gage the wrong way. She talks too fast, she’s too bossy, she’s just too…darned…irritating. And readers, you know what that means. It’s only a matter of time before these two squawking opposites find their way—together!

But there’s a rough road ahead for Rust Creek’s sexy sheriff and his do-gooder girl. Can Big Sky and Big Apple make it past the first frost? Just how much will a city girl sacrifice for the strong arms of the law?

“I’m sorry about what happened last night.

“I had no idea my dancing with someone would cause such a problem.”

“Yeah, well, this is Montana. Not New York,” he said.

His response stabbed at her. “Are you saying dancing causes issues in Montana?”

“A beautiful woman causes issues anywhere,” Gage said.

“I’m not that beautiful,” she retorted.

Gage looked at her in disbelief. “That’s a matter of opinion. Just do me a favor and stay away from the bar the next few days. I don’t have the manpower to handle the riots you cause.”

“Are you saying this is my fault?”

“I’m saying you underestimated your power,” he said.

Lissa felt her frustration build inside her. Her whole body roared with heat. “You’re being a jerk. A complete jerk,” she told him. She poked her finger against his hard chest repeatedly. “If you think I’m so beautiful, why don’t you stop being such an idiot and kiss me?”

Dear Reader,

I’ve always had a fascination with Western sheriffs, and I was thrilled to have the opportunity to write the love story for Sheriff Gage Christensen. He has been totally focused on helping the citizens of Rust Creek Falls get back on their feet after disaster struck. He has been carrying around a lot of unnecessary guilt, too. What he needs is a woman who will get under his skin, bother him a little, remind him he’s a man—a good man.

Volunteer Lissa Roarke from Manhattan hits him, and the town, like a thunderbolt. She’s come to Rust Creek Falls to make a difference and nothing will stop her from accomplishing her goal. Lissa has always been fascinated with cowboys and she decides this is a great time to learn that the myth about them really is just a myth. But what if the reality is more than she could have dreamed?

I hope you’ll enjoy their story. I would love to hear your thoughts. Please email me at leannebbb@aol.com.

Happy reading!

Leanne Banks

www.LeanneBanks.com

The Maverick & the Manhattanite

Leanne Banks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realizes how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance, because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and a four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her website, www.leannebanks.com.

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Special thanks and acknowledgment to Leanne Banks for her contribution to the Montana Mavericks: Rust Creek Cowboys continuity.

This book is dedicated to Susan Litman. Thanks for letting me join the Maverick train again!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter One

My suitcase is packed and I’m ready for my assignment as a lead coordinator for Bootstraps, a charitable organization based in New York City. I’m getting ready to travel from my world to a totally different one. I’m trading subways, theater, high fashion and rush hour crowds for a small town in Montana that’s been nearly destroyed by a flood. No more cushy apartment or paved sidewalks for me. I’ll be facing mud—a lot of it. I expect I won’t find a lot of Wall Street types in a town called Rust Creek. But there will be cowboys—and I’ve always been curious about cowboys....

— Lissa Roarke

Lissa’s roommate, Chelsea, swirled her glass of red wine as she picked up one of the boots from Lissa’s suitcase. Chelsea eyed it with disgust. “I can’t believe you’re actually going to wear something with the label John Deere.”

“Hey, these are great,” Lissa said. “They’re weather resistant and the lining is moisture wicking and breathable. They’ve got removable orthotics, a tempered-steel shank and a rubber outsole.”

“But they’re ugly,” Chelsea said and dropped the boot back into Lissa’s open suitcase. She took a deep sip of wine. “I know you’re into your job and you want to help people, but are you sure this is a good idea? There must be plenty you can still do here.”

“This is a huge opportunity for me. I’ll be the lead coordinator. Besides, my rent will be covered and you’ll get to rule our little roost,” Lissa said, giving her roommate a hug.

“But I’ll miss you,” Chelsea admitted. “And I’ve worked so hard to improve your style quotient.”

Chelsea worked for a women’s fashion magazine and believed one of her missions in life was to help everyone dress with more style and flair. She glanced in Lissa’s suitcase again and gave a disapproving sniff. “Couldn’t you at least include a Givenchy or Hermès scarf? A Burberry sweater? Remember what I’ve told you. Just a few stand-out pieces can really make a difference.”

Lissa smothered a chuckle. “Chelsea, I need to be ready to work. I need to give these people a strong impression that I’m there to help them if they’re going to take me seriously. They haven’t received enough national attention or help. No rock stars are holding concerts for them, and most of their town was practically wiped out, from what I’ve heard.”

Chelsea sighed. “True, I suppose,” she said and took another sip of wine. “You’re such a good soul. I really will miss you.”

“You won’t have to share the bathroom,” Lissa reminded her.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Chelsea said. “Ciao. I’m putting a little prezzie in your suitcase for a time you may need it. Probably tomorrow night,” she muttered under her breath. “No peeking.”

“You don’t need to give me any presents,” Lissa said.

“Oh, I do. I have very little conscience, but I can’t ignore true north on this one.”

While Chelsea moved through the small apartment wearing a morose expression, Lissa double-checked her list and made last-minute preparations for her trip. She was halfnervous and totally excited. Her first assignment as lead coordinator. She’d never be able to explain it to Chelsea, or her family of high achievers, for that matter, but Lissa had grown weary of life in the city and she was looking forward to being in a totally different environment. Her daily journal entries had grown stale and depressing. Her parents had always cautioned her not to put too much energy into her passion for writing. They thought she should focus on something more practical. Working for Bootstraps had offered her the unique opportunity to help people and also blog about her experiences on their website.

Although she knew her temporary stay in Montana would be challenging, she was looking forward to fresh air, big blue skies and wide-open spaces.

And cowboys. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but she’d had a fascination with cowboys for a long time. She wanted to know more about the real kind of cowboy, and apparently Montana was full of them. Lissa felt a twinge of guilt when she thought that Chelsea believed Lissa was being so self-sacrificing by going to Montana.

Lissa closed her eyes and brushed the unwelcome feeling aside. Her first duty was to help the community of Rust Creek Falls, and she was determined to make a difference. Cowboys were just the cherry on top of the assignment.

* * *

In his office, Sheriff Gage Christensen took another sip of coffee as he prowled the small area and listened to Charlene Shelton, a volunteer senior deputy, give her weekly report on how the elderly in his jurisdiction were faring. As soon as he’d begun serving as sheriff, Gage had learned it was a lot easier to appoint a volunteer to check on folks than wait for calls. “I’ve made all my calls. Everyone is mostly fine. Teresa Gilbert may need a ride to the doctor next week, so we’ll need a volunteer driver for that. The only one who didn’t answer or call me back was Harry Jones, but you know he’s a stubborn one. Always has been. Ever since his wife died last year, he’s just gotten worse.”

“I’ll get Will to check on Harry,” he said, speaking of his deputy. “He won’t mind.”

“I’m still worried about all the people still stuck in trailers since the flood,” she clucked. “Winter is coming and I can’t believe those cheap trailers will withstand our blizzards.”

Gage felt his neck tighten with tension. He didn’t disagree with Charlene, but it would take time to put the rural town back together after the flash flood they’d experienced. “We’re all working on it, Charlene. In fact, we’ve got a charity-relief woman coming in from the East. She should arrive this afternoon.”

“From the East?” Charlene echoed, clearly enjoying receiving this bit of news. Gage figured she would be burning up the phone wires as soon as they finished the call. “How is someone from the East going to know what to do here? Where’s she from?”

Gage hesitated. “New York.”

Silence followed. “Well, I suppose they have experience with flooding, but we don’t have subways or high-rises.”

“I know, but we’re not in a position to turn down help. I’ve been tapping every connection I can find. Some people are responding. Others are already booked. We need to get as much done as possible since winter will hit early.”

“Yes, we’re in hard times. If only Hunter McGee was still with us,” she said.

The mention of the former mayor’s name stabbed him. There was never a day that passed that he didn’t think about the mayor’s death during the storm. Gage blamed himself. His parents had talked him into taking a quick trip to a rodeo out of town and Hunter had agreed to cover for Gage. The flood hit and Hunter had rushed out in response to a call. A tree had fallen on his car and he’d died of a heart attack.

“No one can replace Hunter,” Gage said.

“That’s true, but we’re lucky we have you as sheriff, Gage. You’ve been working nonstop to help us,” Charlene said.

“There’s always more to do,” he said.

“Well, I’ll bring you a pie the next time I come into town. A single man needs a pie every now and then,” she said.

Gage looked at the baked goods piled on a table next to the dispatcher’s desk. “You don’t have to do that, Charlene. We all appreciate the work you do with the calls you make each week.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said. “I can bake a pie in my sleep.”

Gage swallowed a sigh. “Thanks for making those calls. Take care, now.”

At that moment, he heard the sound of a husky, feminine laugh and wondered who it was. It was a sexy sound that distracted him.

Gage glanced outside his office and saw his twenty-one-year-old deputy, Will Baker, walk into the office with a slim redhead by his side. The woman was a head-snapper with her fiery hair, long legs and confident air.

“Hey, uh, Gage, this is Lissa Roarke, the relief worker you told me to pick up from the airport. She needs someone to show her around town. I can do it.”

Gage tore his gaze from the woman’s eyes and bit back a smile. He wasn’t at all surprised that Will was volunteering to show the pretty New Yorker around. He was practically drooling all over the woman. “That’s okay. Vickie,” he said, referring to this dispatcher, “needs to leave early, so I’d like you to fill in at the dispatcher desk for a couple hours.”

Disappointment shadowed Will’s face. “Oh, well, if you need me for anything, Lissa, give me a call. I wrote down my cell number for you. Call me anytime.”

“Thank you, Will, and thank you for picking me up from the airport and taking me to the rooming house before bringing me here. You’re a much better driver than most of the ones I deal with in the city.”

Will stood a little taller. “We take our driving seriously out here.”

Gage cleared his throat. “Will, thank you for picking up Miss Roarke. Vickie’s waiting, okay.” He moved toward the New Yorker and extended his hand. “I’m the sheriff, Gage Christensen. We appreciate your help.”

“Please, call me Lissa,” she said in a voice that held a hint of a sexy rasp. She returned his handshake. Her hand was small and soft. He had a hard time imagining her smooth, uncallused hand doing hard labor. Her long red hair fell in a mass of curls to her shoulders and he liked the fact that she didn’t seem to care about taming it. Maybe she wasn’t as high maintenance as he feared. He’d met a few city women and most of them had seemed obsessed with their hair and nails. Her blue eyes glinted with curiosity and intelligence.

“Call me Gage,” he said. “Do you need something to eat before I show you around?” He cocked his head toward the table near the dispatcher’s desk. “People are always dropping off food for us. It’s generous, but if I ate everything they bring in, I’d be as big as a barn. Sometimes I wonder if they’re secretly trying to kill me,” he joked in a low voice.

Lissa gave a light laugh. “I’m sure they’re just showing their appreciation. I’m not hungry, though, because I ate during my layover. I’m anxious to see Rust Creek Falls. I visited Thunder Canyon when one of my cousins got married and it was beautiful.”

“I better warn you that Rust Creek is a lot different from Thunder Canyon. Thunder Canyon has a first-class resort and a lot of shops. We have the minimum requirements here. For everything else, we have to head out of town. Things aren’t nearly as picturesque since the flood here, either.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I have some experience with floods myself after living in New York City.”

“I can’t deny you that. You’ve had some natural disasters that looked like real messes on the news,” he said and led her outside to his patrol car.

“Trust me. They were worse in person,” she said and slid into the passenger seat.

Even though he wasn’t all that confident that a lady from Manhattan was going to be able to help Rust Creek much, Gage was determined to be gracious. He had a hard time believing this city girl would really understand the needs of a small town. He drove down the street, pointing out the businesses that had mostly survived the flood. “We got lucky that some of our important buildings didn’t get hit by the flood. The Masonic Hall,” he said, gesturing to the structure as he turned onto North Main Street. “And thank goodness Crawford’s General Store dodged that bullet. We get everything from feed to groceries there. And the church is still intact. By the way, the reverend is a good man and he’ll be a good resource for you.”

“That’s good to know,” Lissa said. “I’ll try to meet him as soon as I can.”

Taking a turn, he headed in a different direction. “One of the biggest losses was the elementary school. Teachers are holding classes in their homes. The town just doesn’t have the money to rebuild.”

“That’s terrible,” she said, making notes in a small notebook. “I’d like to make that a priority in terms of raising funds.”

“This is the flood zone. Most of the houses were lost or damaged on these streets, including my sister’s house.”

“Can we stop so I can take a look inside the homes?”

“Sure,” he said, pulling his car to the side of the road. He took her inside an unlocked house.

“Wow, the door isn’t locked. Have you had trouble with looting?” she asked.

“Not so much. People took their valuables when they moved in with family or into the area where most of the trailers are,” he said.

She nodded as she stepped inside and looked around. She tapped on the wooden floor with her foot. “This is good,” she said as she looked around the bare room. “They’ve pulled out most of the sources for mold. Furniture, draperies. Even pulled out the dry wall and insulation.”

“Some people cooperated and others just took off. We moved out the furniture next door, but the owners haven’t touched the drywall.”

She bit her lip. “That makes things more challenging, but I have some mold specialists coming in during the next few days. They’ll make assessments and start work on our top priority places.”

“I was wondering how you were going to get any professionals here since we’re in the middle of nowhere. We’ve taxed our contacts in Thunder Canyon and Kalispell to the max, but those folks need to make a living, too. They can’t work for free forever,” he said.

She looked at him and nodded. “That’s why I’m here—to fill in those gaps. I remember reading about the trailer village. I’ve been able to get a few more for the specialists to share since they’ll be around for a while. I’m going to have weekly volunteer groups staying at the church. Can you show me more of the damaged areas?”

“Sure,” he said as she walked past him to leave the house. Despite her work boots, he noticed she had a nice little wiggle in her walk and she smelled more like a woman than a girl. Her dark and spicy scent was at odds with her fresh face and natural hair. She was more practical than he’d expected, Gage thought. She could be distracting and he didn’t need that.

Gage drove out toward several ranches that had been damaged and had lost animals and he noticed Lissa continued to take notes. “Such a shame, but we’re here to make it better. It’s amazing how this seemed to happen in an instant. When New York flooded, at least we got some notice. Did you have any damage at your ranch?”

“My first floor was pretty much ruined. I lost a lot of personal papers and some photographs. I’m living in a temporary trailer at the moment,” he said.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, sympathy sliding through her voice like cool water on hot skin. “That must have been horrible.”

Gage thought of the mayor who’d died in the flood and everything inside him refused her kindness. “I got off easy,” he snapped. “Some people lost their lives.”

“Yes, of course,” she said in an apologetic tone. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I think you’ve probably seen enough to get you started. I’ll take you back to the rooming house,” he said tersely. As much as Gage wanted help for Rust Creek, he hadn’t expected that being around the relief worker would remind him of all he’d been unable to do to help the people stranded by the flood because he’d been out of town. He’d spent every spare minute since the flood trying to help citizens get back on their feet, but the process was slow. Too slow for him.

* * *

Lissa climbed the creaky wooden steps to her room, feeling as if someone had taken the wind out of her sails. She’d started out the day filled with hope and determination, and even though the lingering devastation from the flood tugged at her, she’d felt optimistic as the sheriff showed her around.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was tall and lean with muscles in all the right places, and he walked with a sexy, confident stroll that she suspected could turn into a fast run at the right moment. She liked his deep voice. Everything about him seemed sure. He might have his doubts and regrets about a few things, but Lissa sensed that Gage was okay in his own skin and didn’t waste time wondering what people thought of him.

At the same time, his brooding gaze suggested a bit of sadness. She could tell he felt the burden of helping his community since the flood. She just wished she hadn’t set him off with her sympathy for his own property loss. She should have known better. Rust Creek Falls had been suffering for months and Gage had a firsthand view of most of it.

Opening the door to the bedroom that would be her home for the next month, she glanced at the comfy-looking bed, chest of drawers, minifridge and coffeemaker. She was surprised to see a sandwich, chips and water on a tray for her with a note. “Thought you could use this after your long day. Let us know how we can help. Melba.”

Lissa smiled. The thoughtfulness of Melba Strickland, the boardinghouse’s owner, soothed her. This never would have happened to her in Manhattan. That was for sure. She tugged off her boots and went to the tiny bathroom to wash her hands and splash her face. All she wanted was to jump into her pj’s, gobble down that sandwich and hit the sack. She opened her suitcase on the luggage rack and decided she’d unpack some other time. Digging down into the bottom, she found a box she couldn’t remember packing. She pulled it out and opened it: two bottles of red wine. Lissa laughed. This must have been her roommate’s gift.

Shaking her head, she put the box in her suitcase and pulled out her pj’s. She didn’t need wine. She needed a good night of sleep and the shot of optimism she hoped it would bring.

* * *

Gage didn’t pull into his dirt driveway until after eleven o’clock. He stopped by the Martins’ ranch, where he was helping Bob Martin redo the kitchen floor. The family hoped to be back in the house by Thanksgiving, but it was going to be close. Gage wasn’t a certified plumber or electrician, but growing up with his dad had provided him with a lot of practical do-it-yourself knowledge.

He would ask Lissa Roarke if she could send her mold specialists over to the Martins. He thought of her and her long, curly hair and upbeat attitude. Inhaling deeply, he could almost smell her perfume.

Gage scowled at himself. What was he thinking? He’d just met Lissa and he could tell she was city through and through. Not at all his type. He’d dated a couple city girls during his early twenties who’d visited relatives in Rust Creek Falls, and he’d quickly learned that the women didn’t have any staying power and needed more amusements than this small town could offer.

Stepping out of his car, he felt a chilly wind sweep through him. He shivered and hustled to the trailer he was living in now. If Gage had devoted himself to repairing his own home, he could have been in it a month ago, but it just didn’t seem right to him. Entire families had been uprooted by the flood, so he spent most evenings trying to give those most affected a hand. Even though people were in need, they were more than willing to help their neighbors. That was a fact of life in Rust Creek and it was one of the reasons he’d allowed himself to be talked into running for sheriff.

There may have been times when he’d thought about leaving Montana, but his roots here ran deep. His family and the people were important to him. Ranching was in his blood. Gage stepped inside the trailer and felt the wind shake and rattle through his metal home. Chuckling to himself, he rubbed his hands together before he turned on his coffeemaker. Sometimes he felt like he was living in a tin can. He would get around to fixing his own home after he’d helped more of the families who were suffering.

Gage pulled off his hat and grabbed a pair of pajamas out of one of the few drawers in the trailer. Still cold, he stood over the coffeemaker until the brown liquid made its way to the carafe. Even with the long hours he was pulling he still sometimes had a hard time falling asleep, so he’d started drinking decaf at night. He sure as hell didn’t need one more reason to keep him awake.

He poured a cup of the hot coffee then sank onto the sofa that sat across from his television. Turning on the TV, he prepared to lose himself in a ballgame. For a few minutes before he fell asleep, he would think about something besides the way so many of his people were suffering. He watched for several moments before his eyes started to drift closed. He blinked, realizing he was more tired than he’d thought.

Gage brushed his teeth and washed his face, then pulled out the sleep sofa and sank onto the bed. It wasn’t the best bed, but it felt good at the moment. He listened to the game with his eyes closed for a few moments then turned off the TV. Sighing, he forced himself not to think about what he had on his plate tomorrow. Instead, a vision of a red-haired woman sneaked into his mind like smoke under a door.

Gage shook his head, willing the image away.

* * *

Lissa dragged herself out of bed, started the coffeemaker in the room and stumbled into the shower. It would take a few days for her to get used to the time zone change. It might only be two hours different from New York, and she might be an early riser, but five-thirty a.m. was a little too early for her. Inhaling a cup of coffee, she pulled on a set of long underwear, jeans and a sweater, as she ran through a mental list of what she wanted to accomplish today. Hoping she would succeed after riling the good sheriff, she brushed her teeth and put on a little lip gloss, then headed out of her room.

She smelled the scent of fresh coffee brewing along with something cinnamony baking in the oven and bacon frying. Lissa drooled. She’d planned to grab some yogurt from the local store.

A woman’s voice called out to her. “Breakfast is almost ready. Come on in to the kitchen.”

Lissa stepped into the warm room, catching sight of Melba Strickland, the eighty-something-year-old owner of the rooming house, removing crispy bacon from a cast iron skillet. “How do you like your eggs, honey?”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Lissa said, noticing a couple of men at the breakfast table. “I planned to grab a bite on my way to the sheriff’s office.”

“No need for that when you can eat the best breakfast in town,” Melba said, then shot Lissa an assessing glance from behind her glasses. “Besides, you look like you could use a little fattening up, and breakfast is included with your room. Sunny-side up or scrambled?”

“Scrambled, thank you,” Lissa said, smiling at the take-charge woman.

“Go ahead and get yourself some coffee,” Melba said, nodding toward the coffeemaker with mugs beside it. “There’s orange juice, too, if you like. What do you have up your sleeve today?”

“Getting more information about the damage from the flood and trying to get a better feel for the layout of the county. I have a mold specialist coming in tomorrow. I’m hoping that since Montana is usually dry that it won’t be the kind of problem we had with Hurricane Sandy.”

Melba shook her head. “Trouble is, not everyone was willing to give up their furniture. If I said it once, I said it a hundred times—you have to get all the wet stuff out of the house, or you’re just asking for more trouble. But I’m an old woman. I don’t know anything.” Melba plopped the scrambled eggs onto a plate along with a large portion of bacon and a huge cinnamon roll. “There you go. Eat up.”

“Oh, that’s entirely too—” Lissa stopped at the hard glance Melba threw at her. “Looks delicious. Thank you,” she said, wondering if there was a hungry dog close by with whom she could share all the food.

She sat down next to an older man who had cleaned his plate. “Hello. I’m Lissa Roarke.”

The man nodded. “Nice to meet you. I’m Gene Strickland, Melba’s husband.”

“I don’t suppose you’re still hungry,” she said in a low voice.

He shook his head and chuckled. “No chance. But I’ll distract her when you’re done. You might wanna fix your own plate from now on. Melba thinks women are too skinny these days and she’s on a mission to change that.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Lissa said. She hadn’t wanted to offend the rooming house owner the second day she’d arrived in the state.

While Gene drank his coffee, Lissa finished her eggs, a slice of bacon and a few bites of the delicious cinnamon roll. When she could eat no more, she nodded in Gene’s direction.

He nodded in return. “Hey Melba, I think we might have a leak in the roof. You want me to fix it?”

Melba frowned. “We don’t have a leak in the roof. We better not have a leak in the roof,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Even if we did, I wouldn’t let you go climbing on top of the house at your age. Have you gone crazy? You show me what you’re talking about, Gene.”

Gene smiled and rose from the table. “I think it’s on the northeast side,” he said. “Let’s take a look.”

“Bless you, bless you,” Lissa whispered and quickly rose and wrapped the rest of her cinnamon roll to eat later.

Walking out of the rooming house, she felt a hint of moisture in the cold air. She glanced up at the sky. She hadn’t checked the weather, but she supposed that with those clouds, anything was possible. Shrugging, she headed down the street to the sheriff’s office. The weather wasn’t going to stop her today.

As she stepped into the building that housed the sheriff’s office, she saw Gage putting on his Stetson and looking as if he were preparing to leave.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Mornin’,” he said in return. “I just got a call about an accident, so I won’t be able to show you around today.”

Will immediately piped up. “I can do it,” he offered.

“You have to give the home-safety class for the school kids. Remember? You’ll be busy all day going to all those different places they’re holding class since we lost the school.”

Will made a face. “I forgot.”

“Good thing I didn’t. Those teachers would have been ticked off at both of us if you hadn’t shown up,” Gage said.

“Well, what are you going to do with Lissa?” Will asked. “You can’t just leave her stranded.”

Gage sighed. “Maybe I can get Gretchen Paul to cart her around today.”

Mildly offended by the word cart, Lissa shook her head. “Oh, I don’t want to be any trouble. Perhaps I could rent a car.”

Gage and Will glanced at each other. “Not unless you want to go back to the airport and get it,” Gage said.

“I don’t know. Melba at the rooming house might let Lissa use her car. She might not even charge her,” Will said.

“Not a good idea since she doesn’t know her way around the country. Will, you need to remember Lissa isn’t used to being in a rural place. No telling what might happen if she doesn’t have someone to help her,” Gage said.

Lissa’s stomach knotted at his inference that she couldn’t handle the job she was sent to do. “I think you’re exaggerating. It’s not as if this is Antarctica or outer Mongolia. Most of the roads I’ll be driving on will be paved, and Rust Creek Falls isn’t known for its violence.”

“That may be true, but it’s still a lot different than Manhattan and you just got here. You just sit tight. We’ll figure out something by this afternoon. I need to head out,” Gage said and left her staring after him.

Sit tight? I don’t think so, Lissa thought. “Thanks for the tip, Will.”

“Hey, maybe you better not do that,” Will said. “Gage made a good point. You don’t know your way around,” he said, a worried look crossing his young face.

“I can read a map,” she said, although she would have been much more comfortable with a reliable GPS. “I’ll be fine.”

Chapter Two

Lissa had been just fine until snow had started to fall and the roads turned slippery. After visiting a mom of three on the list Bootstraps had provided for her who needed new carpet and furniture, Lissa wobbled down the winding side road in Melba’s eighteen-year-old Buick. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, but Lissa wondered how Melba could possibly use such a vehicle with Montana’s treacherous winters.

The snow pelted against the windshield and Lissa gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. The car veered to the center of the road and she immediately pulled it back into her lane. If she could just get to the main road, she thought she would be okay.

Suddenly, a deer appeared in front of her. Her heart jumped and she instinctively slammed on the brakes. The car went into a spin that seemed to go on forever. She struggled to gain control then felt the sickening sensation of the massive Buick tilting toward a ditch.

“No, no, no,” she pleaded, willing the car back on the road.

Gravity won and the car slid headfirst into the ditch, stopping with an ugly jerk that yanked her head forward before the seat belt wrenched her back against the seat. It took a few seconds for Lissa to remember to breathe. As she gasped for air, willing her heart to stop pounding, she took inventory of herself, wiggling her shoulders and legs. Everything seemed okay, although the seat belt was holding her so tightly it felt like a vise. Pushing aside the discomfort, she glanced around and tried to figure out how to get out of the ditch. She opened the door to get out, but there wasn’t enough room between the side of the ditch for her to open it all the way. Lissa glanced at the other side and grimly noticed that she had succeeded in wedging herself perfectly in the ditch, a feat she wouldn’t have been able to accomplish if she’d intentionally tried.

She groaned. Lissa really didn’t want to call the sheriff. She could see the scowls and disapproval coming and she couldn’t blame him. If she’d followed his advice, she wouldn’t be in this mess. Frowning, she realized Gage wasn’t the only lawman she could call. Will had given her his number. She could call the deputy and deal with Gage’s displeasure another time. She was sick enough at the thought that she’d damaged Melba’s car.

Lissa pulled Will’s card from her purse and punched in his number. The call went directly to voice mail and she remembered Gage had said something about Will speaking about safety to the elementary children. Lissa reluctantly left a message and decided to wait for him to return the call.

She cut the engine and pulled out her tablet to make notes, but she glanced at the time every other minute. It was just after three o’clock. If Will didn’t call soon, she was going to have to call Gage. She couldn’t stay out here all night. Who knew how much more snow would fall in this surprise storm? She was already starting to feel trapped.

Her cell finally rang after eighteen minutes. She immediately answered. “Will?”

“Yes, Miss—Lissa,” he said. “You said you’ve had a problem. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m in Melba Strickland’s car on Route 563,” she said and swallowed her pride. “And I’m stuck in a ditch.”

Will gave a low whistle. “Are you injured?”

“No,” she said. “But I’m going to need some serious help getting out of this ditch.”

“Okay, sit tight. We’ll take care of you. It may take a few minutes to get there since I’m on the other side of the county.”

“Thank you,” she said, relief spilling through her. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s what I do,” Will said. “See you soon.”

Lissa slumped back against the seat and took a deep breath. As soon as she got out of this mess, she was going to rent an SUV with the best GPS available. She just hated that she’d let Melba down by wrecking her car.

Twenty-five minutes later, a male voice called to her outside her window. “Will. Thank goodness,” she whispered and started the car. She pushed the button to lower the window. “Will?” she called, pleased that the snow had slowed to a slight white drizzle.

“It’s Gage,” the man said as she craned to see him.

“Oh, great,” she muttered to herself.

“I guess you decided not to wait until this afternoon,” he said.

“I didn’t want to waste time,” she said. “I’m going to need a giant can opener to get out.”

“Not quite,” he said, as he jumped in front of the car. His facial expression no-nonsense, he waved his hand. “Put it in Reverse and don’t gun it. Steady pressure,” he said.

“Okay,” she said and attempted to do what he’d told her. All she did was spin her wheels.

“Okay, now I want you to rock it. Put it in Drive, then Reverse.”

She followed his instructions and rocked the car. She was still spinning, but she tried it again and suddenly, the car made several inches backward. “Yay,” she cried.

“Good job,” Gage said, jumping to the side of the car. “Rock again a couple times then I’m going to give you an extra push.

She followed his instructions. “Reverse,” he shouted.

Lissa slammed into Reverse and gunned the pedal while Gage pushed and suddenly she was halfway out of the ditch. “Turn the wheel hard and brake,” he said.

The car miraculously didn’t slide back into the ditch. Gage tapped on the door. “You ready to get out of there?”

He had no idea, she thought. Lissa released the lock and scrambled from the car so quickly she lost her footing.

“Whoa,” Gage said, pulling her to her feet. She felt his brown gaze assessing her and something inside dipped. “You okay?”

She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of leather and a hint of cologne. “Of course,” she said breathlessly. “I’m just embarrassed and I hate that I probably messed up Melba’s car. And I couldn’t get out—” She broke off when she realized her words were running together and took another quick breath. “I’m fine.”

His lip twitched. “Okay. What I’m gonna do now is pull the car the rest of the way out of the ditch. I tow stuff all the time, so this shouldn’t be any different.”

Ten minutes later, Gage was pulling the car behind his truck. Lissa sat beside him as he slowly made his way toward the main road.

“I’m sorry I caused you extra trouble,” she finally said, glancing at him.

“It happens. It could have been worse,” he said with a shrug. “You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt.”

“I really do know how to drive in the snow. I just haven’t done as much driving since I’ve been living in Manhattan,” she told him.

“You’re just a little rusty. You’ll get better with practice. You just might want to take it easy heading out into the snow. We can’t be digging you out every day,” he said with a chuckle.

“That won’t happen,” she said a little more sharply than she intended. “I’m not here to cause problems. I’m here to help.”

He shot her a quick glance. “Rust Creek Falls needs that help. You just need to remember you’re in a different place. This isn’t Manhattan.”

“I know that,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Then check the weather and take it seriously the next time you decide to head out into the far parts of the county,” he told her.

He was right. She hated it, but he was right. “Will do,” she muttered.

“Good. Things will go better that way.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Gage pulled into the driveway behind the rooming house. Because of all the snow on the vehicle, Lissa wasn’t sure how much damage she’d caused. Hopping out of Gage’s truck, she rushed to look it over and was shocked to only find a few dents.

“Good grief,” she said. “I was sure I totaled it.”

Gage walked to stand beside her. “Not Melba’s Blue Bomb. It’s lasted through floods, blizzards, bumps, wrecks. Everything.”

Lissa shook her head. “Do you think Melba will be upset about the scrapes and bumps I left on it?”

Gage chuckled. “She’ll be hard-pressed to find ’em. Once you tell her about your little bump with the ditch, she’ll be more concerned about your safety than her car.”

Melba waddled toward them from the back of the house. “Glory be, thank goodness you’re alive,” she said, wrapping her arms around Lissa. “I heard all about it from Nanette Gilbert. She heard from Sadie Brown. I think one of the teachers told her when she overheard the conversation with Will. I was sure you would end up in the hospital after such a terrible wreck.”

Gage covered a chuckle. “It wasn’t all that terrible. She just fell into the ditch and couldn’t get out. Everything’s okay now.”

“Well, you can be sure I’m not going to let you drive if there’s any chance of snow. If you’d been hurt, I don’t know what I’d do. Come on in and let me give you some soup. You can come, too, if you want, Sheriff.”

“That’s mighty tempting, Melba, but I’ve got to get back to the office.” He glanced at Lissa. “I’m sure she’ll take care of you now.”

Lissa met his gaze. “Thank you again for getting me out of the ditch.”

He touched his hat. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Gage walked to his car and drove to his office, the whole time thinking about Lissa and the spark in her eyes. He could tell she felt bad about driving into the ditch. He just hoped like hell she wouldn’t do the same thing again. When Will had called him with the news, it had given him a jolt. Will had wanted to go after her, but Gage had insisted, and now he was glad he had. Lissa had been well wedged in that ditch.

Lissa’s combination of determination and humility got to him. She had a twinge of pride, but it didn’t keep her from going after her goals. She made something inside him rumble and burn, and he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t have time for any sort of attraction or distraction.

Frowning, he strode into his office building, where a young blonde woman stood. “What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to place her. “You look familiar, but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Gage Christensen, the sheriff,” he said and extended his hand.

She smiled and accepted his grasp. “I’m Jasmine Cates. I’m from Thunder Canyon. I’ve been helping my brother-in-law Dean with some construction projects here in town.”

“Thank you for your help,” he said.

“I’m trying to get in touch with someone by the name of Ann Gilbert. Someone brought some of her furniture in for repair, but the phone number they left is disconnected.”

Gage felt a shot of loss. “Some people have left town. The flood was too hard on them. Annie Gilbert fell and broke her hip just after the flood. I think she’s been staying in Livingston while she gets back on her feet. I can probably find a way to get in touch with her.”

“That would be great,” Jasmine said, an expression of relief crossing her face. “Her furniture was beautiful. We really want it returned to her.”

“Will do,” he said. At that moment, Gary Culbert brought in a casserole dish. “What’s up, Gary?”

“Edith made some extra chicken potpie and she wanted you to have it. She really appreciated you helping us get our cattle back last week,” the thirty-something-year-old man with a cowlick said. He glanced at Jasmine and tipped his ball cap. “There’s more than enough to share.”

A moment of silent awkwardness passed and Gage finally met Jasmine’s gaze. He shrugged. “You want to join me for dinner?”

She bit her lip. “It’s a little early, but...”

“It’s early for me, too,” Gage said.

“Well, you could heat it up in the microwave,” Gary said. “This is good stuff. I appreciate you helping us with the cattle, but I was disappointed when Edith insisted I bring you half of what she was baking.”

Gage chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to tell her I refused her kind offer so you can take it back home with you?”

“She’d skin me alive,” Gary said.

“I can come back in an hour or two,” Jasmine said, shoving her hands into her coat pockets.

Gage paused a half beat. Well, hell. Maybe Jasmine would keep him from thinking about Lissa. Jasmine didn’t talk as fast as Lissa and she didn’t make his gut twist into a knot. “Yeah,” he said. “That’ll work. I’ll see you later, then.”

For the next two hours, Gage took care of paperwork, answered calls and touched base with Will. It had been a hell of a day. He raked his hand through his hair as Jasmine walked into the office.

“Rough afternoon?” she asked.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“You don’t look—” she smiled “—happy.”

“Every day is an adventure,” he said, rising to his feet. “Are you ready for that chicken potpie?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

Gage put the potpie in the microwave and heated it. He pulled out two plates and poured himself a cup a coffee. “We have hot chocolate, coffee and cider. What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

“Hot chocolate sounds good for tonight. Thank you,” she said.

“Have a seat,” he said, motioning toward the chair across from his desk. He spooned the chicken potpie onto the plates and set her plate across from him then served himself. “So, how does Rust Creek Falls compare to Thunder Canyon?”

She chuckled. “Rust Creek is a little more rustic, but the people are great. We have a bit more shopping, but the truth is we still do a lot of shopping online.”

“It’s nice of the folks from Thunder Canyon to come and help us,” he said and took a bite of the potpie. It was delicious, just as Gary had said.

“We’re connected in many ways,” Jasmine said. “Why wouldn’t we help?”

He nodded and continued the conversation and the meal, but he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to thoughts of Lissa. Damn the woman. Images of her red hair and sparkling eyes slid through his mind. Her determination bumped through him. What was going on, he wondered. This was ridiculous.

Finally, both he and Jasmine had finished the potpie, although he couldn’t have recalled much about their conversation if asked.

She stood. “This was fun,” she said with a sweet smile.

“Yeah. It was,” he said, knowing there wouldn’t be a repeat. He couldn’t mislead a nice girl like Jasmine until he got Lissa out of his head. He extended his hand to Jasmine. “Thanks for all you’re doing for us.”

She blinked and shook his hand as if she weren’t quite sure how to take him. “Um, you’re welcome. Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“I’m the sheriff,” he said. “Everyone sees me at one time or another.”

He sensed her immediate withdrawal and wished he wasn’t so distracted by Lissa.

She nodded. “Have a nice night.”

Fat chance, he thought.

* * *

Lissa leaped off her bed in shock as her alarm sounded the next morning. She still hadn’t made the adjustment to Mountain Time. Plus it didn’t help that she had driven Melba’s car into a snowy ditch yesterday. Even more embarrassing was that Gage had rescued her. She didn’t want him to view her as incompetent or a pain in the rear. She hadn’t helped her case by going out in the snow yesterday, but she was too impatient to wait to be chauffeured. There was too much to be done.

Taking a quick shower, she pulled on her clothes and sneaked down the back steps. Avoiding the temptation of Melba’s full breakfast, she scarfed down a granola bar. The temperature was higher than yesterday, but still cold. She blew into the air and saw her own vapor. In Manhattan, she would have worn a hat, gloves and scarf. Today, she wore the same, but it felt more freakin’ freezing. The subway was a lot warmer than the great outdoors of Montana.

She made her way to the mayor’s office and was surprised to find it open at such an early hour. Stepping inside, she glanced around and saw an elderly woman focused on paperwork. Although Lissa has never seen the woman, she suspected this was Thelma McGee, the mother of the late mayor.

“Good morning. I’m Lissa Roarke,” she said, approaching the counter.

The woman looked up from behind her glasses. “Good morning to you. I’m Thelma McGee.”

“I’m honored to meet you,” Lissa said.

Thelma’s eyes softened. “Thank you. You must know about my son.”

“I do,” Lissa said. “Everyone talks about what a wonderful man he was.”

Thelma sighed. “He was,” she said. “And I’m just trying to help keep his office running. But it’s not easy.”

“Everyone appreciates your effort,” Lissa said. “I’m here with the Bootstraps organization to help the town get back on track.”

“I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your help,” Thelma said, rising from the computer. “Rust Creek Falls is a bit remote, so it’s hard for us to get enough help. Thank you for coming. We all thank you.”

Lissa shrugged. “I’m not sure everyone is all that excited about me being here to help.”

Thelma lifted her eyebrows and set a cup of coffee on the counter for Lissa. “Are you talking about Gage?”

Lissa felt a rush of heat rise to her cheeks. “I guess you could say that.”

“Gage blames himself for everything. He doesn’t understand that he doesn’t have the power to prevent a flash flood. He’s been through a lot. We all have, but he will come around. It just may take a bit longer.” Thelma put her hand over Lissa’s. “Give him time. Don’t pay attention to his crankiness.”

Lissa couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll work on it. I’ve heard so many good things about you. Now I understand why.”

Thelma waved her hand in dismissal. “Don’t flatter me. I just want to honor my son.”

Lissa’s heart twisted at the woman’s words and she felt her determination rise inside her even more strongly. She would help Rust Creek Falls. She would make a difference.

No matter what Gage Christensen thought about her.

Before he’d had his second cup of coffee, Gage saw Lissa Roarke walk through the door of his office. His stomach rolled. He wasn’t ready for this.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve thought about the day and I would like to do a little more research on the north side of the county. Do you think you could take me? Or should I ask Will?”

Gage’s head was spinning. “Whoa, whoa,” he said. “Why do you have to talk so fast? Talking fast isn’t going to get anything done faster.“

“I just want to get things done as quickly as possible for your town,” she said. “They’ve been waiting a long time.”

“True, but unless you have recruits ready today, there’s no need to rush,” he said.

Frustrated beyond measure, she barely resisted stomping her foot. “Why are you fighting me on this?” she asked. “Is this personal? Do you dislike what I’m trying to do? If I’m the one who’s causing a problem for you, then maybe I should just call my boss and ask for a replacement.”

“Why are you jumping off a cliff? I just said you talk way too fast. You just need to slow down,” he said.

“You haven’t done anything but give me a hard time. Maybe you would be happier with someone else heading up this project,” she said.

“You just don’t understand what you’re getting into. Your degrees may work in New York, but they won’t do much here,” he said.

“How dare you?” she asked. “I’m just trying to help and all you can do is criticize. You act like I personally made it rain here in Rust Creek Falls. I’m calling my boss so he can have someone else come here to help.”

Shaking all over, but trying to hide it, Lissa turned and headed for the door. She reached for it, but Gage’s hand covered hers.

“Don’t,” he said in a low voice.

She glanced back at him and he lowered his head toward her. He pressed his mouth against hers and her head and heart began to spin. She felt a crazy mix of anger, frustration, desperation and attraction, and her knees buckled from the force of the kiss.

Gage gripped her waist and pulled her against him, his breath heavy. Lissa’s stomach dipped. She couldn’t remember a time she’d felt like this.

Her gaze clung to his for a long moment. Finally, they both took a breath and she stumbled away from him. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head.

She couldn’t take her eyes from his.

He shook his head and exhaled. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said and walked away from her.

Lissa’s mind swirled. She locked her knees to keep from falling. She forced herself to pull herself together. How was she supposed to deal with all of this? How was she supposed to conquer her attraction to Gage and help the people of Rust Creek Falls? He’d been prickly enough that she’d been able to resist thinking about him all the time, but she knew there was something under Gage’s surface that she found way too compelling. It was more than his cowboy boots and his Stetson. She just couldn’t ignore the strength he emanated.

She steeled herself against her feelings. She just had to do it. Nothing, not even Gage Christensen, could or should keep her from her goal.

Lissa kept herself occupied at the desk she’d been given at the sheriff’s office with plans for repairs for the next day, but thoughts of Gage plagued her. She had never been kissed like that before. She’d never had such powerful feelings before. Lissa was trying to regain control. She tried to tell herself that Gage hadn’t shaken her to her bones, but it was hard.

At the end of the day when she went back to her room, she decided to give her cousin, Maggie, a call. Maggie was a lawyer and was working hard to negotiate a release for Arthur Swinton in Thunder Canyon. Although she was swamped, Maggie answered her cell phone. “How is it going, sweetie?” Maggie asked. “I hope you don’t feel like I got you shipped to outer Mongolia.”

“No. It’s not that bad,” Lissa said, laughing at Maggie’s reference to the rural nature of where she’d been assigned.

“I hope you don’t feel like you got pushed into this, but Rust Creek Falls needed some serious help and I thought you could give it,” Maggie said.

“It’s okay. Besides, you didn’t send me—my boss at Bootstraps sent me. You just used your influence to get Bootstraps involved. I’m glad to be the project coordinator for this job. Plus, you know what they say about cowboys. It’s all true. I have to say I have never been so thoroughly kissed,” Lissa said, giving a big sigh over the kiss she’d shared with Gage.

Maggie chuckled. “Well, congratulations on finding your real-life cowboy.”

Lissa rolled her eyes. “No congratulations necessary. This cowboy still acts like he can’t stand me.”

“What? How can that be?” Maggie asked.

“I can’t focus on it. I have a job to do,” Lissa said.

“Well, I hope your cowboy will help instead of hinder,” Maggie said.

“Me, too,” Lissa said. “How’s the trial going?”

“Well, they don’t call it a trial for no reason,” Maggie joked.

Lissa laughed. “Seriously, how’s it going?”

“We’re making progress,” Maggie said. “I’m hopeful.”

“Spoken like a true lawyer,” Lissa said.

“Yeah, well, that’s my job,” Maggie said.

“And you do it well,” Lissa said.

“Thanks,” Maggie said. “Take care, cuz. Call me if you need me.”

Lissa sank onto her bed at the rooming house. She definitely felt as if she had bitten off more than she could chew. Dragging her tired body to the bathroom, she washed her face and brushed her teeth then fell into bed. Tomorrow would be a better day.

The next morning, Lissa rose early and indulged in Melba’s breakfast—with limits. She spooned her own portions onto her plate instead of letting Melba do it. Afterward, she took a brisk walk toward the sheriff’s office. What she really wanted was her own wheels, but after her disaster of driving in the snow, she didn’t want to cause any more trouble.

Walking into the office, she heard Gage talking on the phone. She took a deep breath and tried to figure out what to do. She didn’t want to interrupt, but she wanted to get to work.

A few seconds later, Gage stopped talking. Lissa chewed the inside of her lip and walked toward Gage’s office. She peeked inside. “Hiya,” she said.

Gage glanced up at her, his expression clearly displeased. “You’re up early.”

“So are you. We’ve both got a job to do,” she said.

He nodded reluctantly. “True,” he said. “I’ll get Will in here. He can take you around this morning.”

Lissa felt the chill from five feet away. “Thanks,” she said.

“He’ll be here in a few,” he said.

“Okay. I’ll wait in the outer office,” she said.

He shrugged. “Not necessary. You can get some coffee and sit anywhere you like. I have to check in with a few people, so I can’t give you my undivided attention.”

His comment nettled her nerves. “I would never expect your undivided attention,” she told him. “I’ll sit outside until Will arrives, thank you.” And thank you for being a pain in the butt.

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