LITMIR.BIZ

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did understand as she expertly delivered the Chad jab. “But if you change your mind, give a call. We’re in the book.”

      “I’m sure I can find your number.”

      “Just look under ‘horse training’ in the Yellow Pages,” Marti said with another bright smile. “I think we’re the first entry.”

      * * *

      “SHOT DOWN. HOW UNUSUAL.”

      Gabe smirked at his assistant, hoping the full effect came across on the FaceTime phone connection, even though Serena Anderson Widmeyer was impervious to both his charm and his temper.

      “I’m not trying to date her. I’m trying to get to know her. Make friends.” Then offer her a fair price for a piece of land he needed. He had it on good authority that there were stability issues on the Lightning Creek Ranch and that it had come close to being put on the market a few months ago. He planned to capitalize on that instability as soon as possible.

      “Hard to do if she shuts you down,” Serena said with a wicked smile that came through clearly, even though she had the airport terminal window at her back.

      “You’re a rotten assistant.”

      “That’s what happens when you hire the boss’s family.”

      “You aren’t family,” he muttered.

      “I was at one time,” she reminded him with a serene smile.

      And then she’d come to her senses. She and his best friend, Neal Widmeyer, had been ridiculously unhappy in their marriage, but after the divorce, both had continued to work for Widmeyer Enterprises in different departments. Oddly, they now seemed to like each other much better than when they were married. Good thing, because Stewart Widmeyer did not take well to dissension in the ranks.

      “What do you think of the place?” she asked.

      “Potential. A lot of potential.” Nestled against a mountain with a fishing stream running through it and within shuttle distance of a ski resort, it was a gem of a property, nicely protected from the rest of the valley by Lightning Creek Ranch acreage.

      “Enough to compete with Timberline?” Timberline was the resort on the opposite side of the valley that Stewart’s former partner had essentially stolen before parting ways with Widmeyer Enterprises.

      “I think so. Eventually,” Gabe said. But they needed more land, first to insulate the proposed resort from the possibility of encroaching housing developments and, more important, to make a world-class golf course. Timberline didn’t have a golf course and had no hope of procuring the acreage at this point in the game.

      That was Stewart’s trump card.

      He planned to make a bigger, better, more exclusive resort than Timberline, steal Timberline clientele and make his duplicitous partner, Mark Jeffries, pay. The trick was keeping the plans under wraps while Gabe investigated the possibility of buying the Lightning Creek. If anyone associated with Timberline figured out that Widmeyer Enterprises was looking at property, land prices would go up astronomically. That was where Gabe came in. Jeffries, of course, knew all the family members who worked for Widmeyer. He didn’t know Gabe, who acted as an independent consultant. His name was on no company rosters—he was identified only as Process Resources, Inc. He was nameless and faceless, and was thus able to lease the Staley property with no fear of word leaking out. He’d even drummed up a few side contracts so that he had something to do while he “vacationed” in his new house.

      “They just called my flight,” Serena said, “which means you have to do without me for the next two weeks because I’m turning off my phone.”

      “Right.”

      “No, really. I’m doing it.”

      “I’ll expect you to call for an update tomorrow.”

      Serena made a rude noise. “Won’t happen. Good luck with Ms. Brody,” she said. “Gotta go.”

      “What if I need you?” he asked, just to be a dick.

      Serena made a face and then the screen went blank. Gabe smiled to himself as he set the phone down on the table.

      Good luck with Ms. Brody. He was going to need it.

      Temporarily moving to Montana from his home base in Bloomington, Illinois, getting to know Danica Brody and then introducing the idea of a sale had seemed a logical approach, but now that he’d met Dani, he sensed that he’d have to move carefully. Take his time, collect information. Refrain from pushing too hard and spooking her.

      He could play it that way. And in the meantime...

      Yes. In the meantime.

      Gabe strode through the house, paused and looked out the window at the spectacular view, then walked back into the living room and unrolled a map. His side contract was a simple project designing a small park for a town in Idaho. He’d put in a low bid just to get something to work on and now he didn’t feel like working on it. For the next few days, until the service providers had time to work him into their schedules, he had no internet, no TV. No company. He wasn’t one for big gatherings and a lot of social interaction, but he wouldn’t mind hearing the sound of a human voice, either.

      When was the last time he’d been lonely? Or ever considered the possibility of being lonely?

      After an hour of staring at his project and listening to music on his phone, Gabe finally walked out of the house and headed for his car. If nothing else, he’d go eat somewhere, soak up some local atmosphere.

      An hour later he had to concede defeat. Atmosphere soaking had not gone well. He’d hit a small tavern that served food, ate a steak dinner by himself, then wandered into the bar for a drink. Obviously McElroy’s was a very local establishment, since no one tried to make conversation with him, with the exception of the bartender, and that was duty talk.

      Gabe didn’t mind. He conversed with the bartender until he finished his lone beer, then tipped the guy decently and hit the road back home again. He’d learned nothing of value, but he’d made the guy laugh a few times and considered that a decent inroad.

      On the drive home, he was debating about the best way to make contact with Danica Brody without getting shot down again, when he rounded a corner and something white and large—no, huge—appeared in the road in front of him. He jerked the steering wheel to the right and mud flew as the tires spun, then caught, yanking the car sideways and slamming it into the ditch. Gabe’s forehead smacked the steering wheel and then he slumped back into his seat, checking his forehead for blood. His hand came away clean and he dropped it into his lap.

      Well, shit.

      Gabe let out a long breath, shoved the door open and got out to assess damage. In the distance, he could hear the hollow thud of hooves on the hard-packed road.

      A horse.

      A black-and-white horse.

      And Gabe was pretty darned certain he knew where to find the owner.

       CHAPTER TWO

      GABE WALKED ACROSS the field toward the lights of the Lighting Creek Ranch, hunching his shoulders against the wind. The distance was deceptive and what he’d thought was at the most a ten-minute walk through the tall grass took well over twenty, but finally he climbed through the fence onto the driveway and made his way to the house.

      Deep booming barks followed his knock on the front door and a few seconds later Dani glanced through the window, frowning as she realized who was on the porch. Instead of pulling the door open, she cracked it a few inches, hushing the giant dog behind her as she did so. She did not look happy at seeing him on her porch.

      “I almost hit a horse with my car. I think it was the one you just bought.”

      The color drained from her face. “Are you

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