His Reckless Heart (The Montgomery Boys Book 1) Read online

  Maybe the alternate route my life was supposed to take involved being a magician. Or at least a magician’s assistant. But I’d taken a different turn somewhere along the line and I ended up in my father’s mechanic shop instead.

  I readied myself to add another car to the long list already on tap for repair and was surprised at the face I saw staring down at me. Cassidy Montgomery leaned against one of the support columns, his arms over his chest and his ankles crossed casually.

  I sat up and grinned at him. “Hey, stranger.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Need a hand?”

  I shook my head and wiped sweat from my brow with the back of my arm. “I’ve got it. Thanks, though.” I got to my feet and took the rag out of my back pocket to wipe my hands. “What brings you to the shop? Do you need a quote on something?”

  It felt strange asking him that question, but I couldn’t figure out any other reason why he would come to the shop. It could only mean he was there on mechanical business. Otherwise, I figured he would just wait to see me in town. This would mark the one and only time Cassidy Montgomery went out of his way to swing by the shop just to say hello to me.

  As it turned out, he wasn’t just coming by to say hello.

  “No,” he said. “This isn’t about fixing a car.”

  “All right,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  “I came here to talk to you,” he said.

  I nodded, the realization of what actually brought him here finally dawning on me. “About Jesse?”

  “How’d you know?” he asked with a hint a smile.

  “Because. You’re a Montgomery. You look out for your own. And you have that concerned crease in your brow that’s only ever there when something is bothering you.”

  Though Jesse and I were obviously the closest, the time I spent with him also meant getting very familiar with the other Montgomery boys. There was a whole gaggle of them, so I knew a couple better than others, but there were a few characteristics of each that stood out to me.

  For Cassidy, it was the quiet, steady way he tried to handle everything, internalizing everything that happened so he could stay calm. He wanted to be the strong, dependable leader his brothers could rely on. He was their hope, the light that was going to guide them through. And even when he tried not to show that he was worried or that his mind was trying to work out something difficult and painful, the furrow of his brow told it all.

  He arched his eyebrow at me. “Am I that transparent?”

  “Yes,” I answered simply.

  Cassidy chuckled. “I guess you’re right. I am worried about him.”

  “Me, too,” I admitted. “I haven’t spent any real amount of time with him, but he’s different than I remember. There’s something darkened about him. Closed off. Like the real Jesse is buried somewhere beneath it all.”

  I didn’t know if that made sense, but if it was going to sink in and resonate with anybody, it was going to be Jesse’s brother. He had seen Jesse when he first came home, well before I got a chance to talk to him. He would have noticed the change that came over him. By the way he was nodding, I knew he understood what I was saying, even if he had the same uncertainty about it.

  “I want you to keep an eye out for him,” Cassidy said. “Just, when you get a chance to see him, pay attention. He went through a lot over the years since he’s been gone, and it’s really affected him. I’m going to be doing the same. I’m going to keep an eye on him at home and on the ranch, but you know him differently. When you see him again, just watch out for him. Like you said, he’s different. I just want to make sure he’s getting through this.”

  “I can do that,” I promised. “I’ll actually have a chance to tomorrow night.”

  “You’re going to be seeing Jesse tomorrow night?” he asked.

  I nodded. “When I saw him the other day, I suggested he come up to The Junction to hang out with us Friday night. Sara and a few of us go up there every week. I figured it would be a nice way for him to try to settle back into town.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Cassidy said. “I know he hasn’t seen a lot of people and maybe it’ll make him feel better to realize he still has a place around here. That everybody didn’t just forget about him when he left.”

  “I think some dancing could be good for him, too,” I said.

  Cassidy looked me up and down and smirked. “It’s not the dancing that would be good for him.”

  Before I had a chance to come up with some sort of response, Cassidy turned and walked out of the garage with a quick wave over his shoulder. I stood there staring after him, a little bit dumbstruck.

  Dad came out of his office and walked up to me. “Did I just hear somebody out here talking to you?”

  “Yeah,” I told him.

  “Not another job, is it? Not that I should be complaining about getting too much work. Much better than everything drying up and seeing crickets around here. But I would sure like to get rid of a couple of these before we tacked on anything else too difficult.”

  “Not a new client,” I told him. “It was Cassidy Montgomery.”

  Dad looked at me questioningly. “Cassidy Montgomery? I didn’t know he was in the habit of stopping by to say hello to you while you were at work.”

  “He’s not,” I told him. “He was coming by to talk about something specific.”

  I didn’t want to get into a conversation about Jesse with my father. It wasn’t the topic either one of us liked to discuss with the other one. My father would never come out and say something awful about him or try to forbid me from seeing him. He knew I was a grown woman and could make my own decisions. But he also knew just how much pain I’d gone through and what it would mean to me to have Jesse back in my life.

  I was relieved when Dad just nodded.

  “Well, seems like you helped him,” he said. “I have a craving for a roast beef sandwich. I’m going to go out and grab one. Can I get you something?”

  I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  “Be right back.”

  A few moments later, he drove away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  Chapter 17

  Jesse

  I was careful not to make any definite commitment to going out on Friday night when Shannon first invited me. As soon as she did, I knew I wanted to go. I wanted to spend more time with her, and it sounded like fun to go out to one of my old haunts and enjoy myself a bit.

  But something I’d learned, something I ground into myself, was not to make any promises. I didn’t want the possibility of disappointing her again. My sense of honor and honesty never left me, even after everything I saw and the things I had to go through that I never wanted to think about again. But the way I handled it shifted. I couldn’t just be open anymore.

  Growing up in a deeply traditional town like Green Valley meant there were certain truths I was expected to live by. Most of those came in the form of adages and snippets of wisdom that seemed to trickle down through the generations with as much emphasis and significance as hardened facts.

  One of those that all of us had heard a thousand times was that “tomorrow was promised to no man.” Depending on the circumstances during which it was said and who was saying it, that sentiment could mean any number of things. It could be an inspiration to try something you are afraid of or hadn’t built up the courage to do. It could be an admonition for procrastinating or keeping silent when you should speak. It could be a reminder to not say or do things you might regret because there may never be another chance to fix it.

  Whatever the original intention or what it meant to any given person at any given time, those words stayed with me for a long time even after I left Green Valley. But overseas, I began to think of them in a different way.

  It wasn’t just about not being promised another day. It was about not being promised another hour, another minute, another breath. There was never a single second when I could be absolutely confident I would be alive to see my next step, so I learned not to pr
omise. I learned not to commit myself or put myself into anyone’s hope. I never wanted the time to come when one of those had to go unfulfilled.

  Even without the promise to be there, though, I knew I would. I thought about it for the rest of the week, and when Friday came along, I spent the day working the ranch with anticipation swirling in my belly. Finally, it was quitting time and I got to go inside and get ready. A hot shower and shave later, I dipped into the new wardrobe of civilian clothes I’d picked up the second day I was in town.

  My old clothes didn’t fit me and the stuff I had from days off during my tours didn’t exactly fit in around Green Valley. If I was going to be here for any time, I needed to settle in again. I needed to do what I jokingly told Cassidy I was going to do. Find myself. That started with looking not like a soldier, but like a rancher out for the night.

  I dressed in black jeans and a black button-up, then pulled on a pair of black cowboy boots. I tucked my dog tags down into my shirt so they couldn’t be seen and looked in the mirror. After a brief consideration, I decided to opt out of wearing a hat. I walked downstairs and ran into Clayton.

  He looked me up and down and gave me a grin. “Playing dress up tonight, little brother?” he asked. “You sure look slick.”

  “I’m going out,” I told him.

  “Make sure you’re careful on those boots. They look like they’ve never seen a lick of dirt. You’ll be sliding all over, and you don’t want to fall on your ass at the ball.”

  I nodded, taking the ribbing that felt like it was a long time coming. “I’m breaking them in. They have to start somewhere.”

  “And where are they starting?” he asked.

  “I told you I’m going to The Junction to meet up with Shannon,” I said.

  “Oh, that’s right, going on a not-date,” he teased.

  “Goodnight, Clayton,” I said.

  “Be real careful out there. Maybe you should put a bell around your neck or something. You might just become one with the night.” He dramatically swept his hand through the air in front of him like he was adding mystery to his words.

  I’d made it to the front door and I swiped the keys from the hook on the wall beside it. Holding them up in front of his face, I gave them a jiggle. “I’m taking your truck.”

  I didn’t give him a chance to respond before leaving the house and jumping in the truck to head into town. Driving along Main Street brought a smile to my face. It looked like it always had, like a postcard. This was what people thought of when they imagined a small town in Montana.

  Rustic heritage buildings took up the majority of the space, with newer refurbished shops nestled in among them. But even the newer shops had been there for years and seemed to have taken on the energy and personality of the old-fashioned surroundings.

  Here, people knew who owned every shop, every restaurant, and those owners knew the names of their customers. Maybe not every single person who walked through the door but the vast majority of them. And those who they couldn’t think of their name right off the tops of their heads, they could still remember them just by their faces.

  This was the type of place where old vehicles parked up along the curbs weren’t trendy. People didn’t buy decades-old trucks and massive behemoths of mid-century cars to seem retro or to fit in with a persona. Earning those vehicles came honestly. They were driven by the same people who bought them new or by the children or grandchildren who had them passed along to them.

  There was no shame in driving a worn, weathered old pickup into town and parking it behind a shiny new compact. Every ding and dent, every weathered hatch and area of chipped paint was real. It was a bit of the story for the person who drove that. They were earned and respected.

  Driving along that street reminded me of the life I thought I wanted to build in that place. When I was young, I always assumed I’d start a family of my own. I was going to grow up and buy a piece of land to build my dream home on, and I’d live there with the woman I loved. We’d be happy there together and fill it full of kids like my parents did before me.

  Even when Shannon and I talked about going out and seeing the world, going on adventures and experiencing far more than what the endless landscape of Montana had to offer us, there would be part of me that always knew I’d come back here. I just assumed this was where I was tethered, and it would be where my roots kept growing. When it came time, this was where I would settle down and where my family would grow up, just like I did.

  But that never happened.

  I arrived at The Junction and drove into the parking lot. It looked just about full and it took me a couple of minutes to find somewhere to fit Clayton’s truck. I finally managed to park, and as I did, I spied Shannon sitting on the front steps of the bar. Sara leaned on the railing, looking around and occasionally saying something to Shannon, who nodded at her.

  “Hey,” I called when I stepped out of the truck.

  Both women looked over at me, and Shannon’s face brightened, a huge smile breaking out across her face. They came rushing across the gravel lot to meet me and I couldn’t help but check Shannon out as she came.

  Her jean shorts accentuated the curve of her hips and strength of her legs, and red cowboy boots were a sexy touch. Tiny yellow flowers on her white flowy blouse were just feminine enough without looking like she was trying to be someone she wasn’t. She had loosened her hair and it fell down around her face, bringing out her eyes and the softness of her lips.

  “You look incredible,” I told her when she got close to me.

  I meant it wholeheartedly. Back when I had the dream of starting a family, there was never anyone I imagined in the place of the woman who would be by my side through it all but Shannon. It was always her, and looking at her now, I wondered how I ever had the strength to leave her in the first place.

  “You’re not looking so bad yourself,” she said, eyeing me appreciatively.

  I liked the way her eyes felt on me. I knew I looked different than all those years ago. Time and intense years of military service had hardened and shaped my body, making me bigger and stronger. She not only noticed it, but I could tell by the glint in her eyes when I stripped down by the water that she more than liked what she saw.

  Now she looked at my clothes like she wished they weren’t there as she reached out and took my hand so we could go inside.

  The Junction was just as I remembered it. Walking through the front door was like going back in time and stepping into a memory. Nothing had changed about it since the last time I was there, and I was glad for that. I wasn’t in the mood for anything new or unexpected.

  That night, I was looking forward to feeling at home. We walked into the place and I looked around at the wood floors and cow-printed seats all given a bit of a soft haze with the dim lighting. The entire place smelled like beer and old carpet with just the slightest undercurrent of perfume when we walked by groups of women. Almost every person in the place turned to look at us as we walked through, and I recognized their faces.

  They recognized me, too. A few of them only stared, looking at me like they were seeing a ghost. Others were far more excited at my return and called out to me, waving and holding up their beers in salute. It didn’t take long before someone at the bar sent a beer over to me, and even before I was able to get a few sips of it down, somebody ordered a round of shots.

  “In celebration of Jesse Montgomery’s triumphant return to Green Valley,” Clint, an old high-school buddy called, holding his shot glass high.

  I looked around, taking it all in. It was hard to believe I was really back. But not only was I back, but I was being welcomed so much. I figured a lot went around about me when everybody realized I was gone. There was no notice, no announcement. Not even a note. Much of that was because I didn’t even know myself where I was going or where I would end up. The rest was because I didn’t know if I wanted anybody to know.

  Over the years, I made it a point not to pry too much into the goings-on of Green
Valley when I talked to my brothers. I got the general rundown, of course, but I didn’t want to know what they were saying about me. The judgment didn’t bother me. Possibly having another reason to never go back did.

  “Welcome home, Jesse,” Sara said, then gave Shannon a sideways look I pretended not to notice.

  Shannon looked at me with a smile and clinked her shot glass of tequila against mine. “Bottoms up.”

  Chapter 18

  Shannon

  Another guy from the bar came up to us offering Jesse a second shot of tequila, but I steered him away.

  “We need to pace ourselves a little better,” I said. “We don’t want you getting sloppy before we’re even able to have any fun.”

  Jesse laughed. “You think I forgot how to drink in my years in the military?” he asked. “I think I’m going to be just fine with one beer and one shot of tequila.”

  “Still,” I said. “I’d like to have you coherent. At least for a little while.”

  I took his hand again and brought him over to the booth Sara and I had claimed when we first got there. It was the same one we sat in every week, and the group of regulars we sat with was already distributed around the table. They lifted their glasses and cheered as Jesse approached. He grinned at them and waved.

  “Good to see everybody,” he said.

  “Sit down,” Andrew said. “Do you want something to eat?”

  “You know what?” Jesse said, sliding into one side of the booth. “I could absolutely go for some greasy bar food tonight.”