The Rancher's Prospect

Digging a little deeper

Running his family’s ranch has always been Josh McGregor’s dream. Dealing with his feisty grandfather, however, is not. Josh is struggling to maintain control, and ranch manager Tara Livingston doesn’t help. The only thing they agree on is ignoring the attraction between them.

Tara has a special bond with his grandfather, but she won’t stay in Montana forever. Yet her bold nature challenges Josh, making him question his goals. When Tara takes his grandfather on a treasure-hunting trip to the mountains, Josh has no choice but to go along. They may not find jewels, but they could come back with something even more valuable...

Heat crept up Josh’s neck.

“What kind of person do you think I am?”

Tara shrugged. The gesture was elegant, and he couldn’t help thinking that she’d look more at home at a French château than in Montana. “All I know is what I’ve seen between you and Walt, and the way you acted at the clinic,” she said. “Oh, and the way you’ve done your level best to get rid of me. It hasn’t been impressive.”

She had a point. He’d never expected things to turn out this way. Sometimes he didn’t recognize himself when he was arguing with Walt or pulling his hair out over a cowhand quitting.

As for Tara?

On one matter they totally agreed—they didn’t care for each other. That was okay, although he was fighting an undeniable attraction to her, a response that was purely chemical.

Dear Reader,

I have always been interested in geology, but lately the variety and beauty of this planet’s stones have been a particular passion. It may sound funny, but in many ways, rocks are like people. Some are harder, some softer, and each have their own particular beauty. Of course, as with people, it may also take a little work to discover the beauty inside. One of my favorite rocks is moldavite, a glass-like stone that was created when a meteor hit the earth. Love can be like that. It lands with unexpected force and creates something new.

My hero and heroine in The Rancher’s Prospect are both strong, stubborn, independent people who’ve set a course for their lives that isn’t necessarily the best for them. A world traveler, Tara has developed a cool outer shell to protect herself, but she isn’t nearly as tough as she appears, while Josh is working single-mindedly to achieve his dream of raising organic beef cattle on his own ranch.

It was interesting to pit these two very different people against each other, with the beautiful state of Montana as the backdrop to their story. Montana, by the way, has some very interesting geologic history, some of which naturally found its way into Tara and Josh’s story.

I enjoy hearing from readers and can be contacted c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON M3B 3K9, Canada.

Callie Endicott

The Rancher’s Prospect

Callie Endicott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CALLIE ENDICOTT’s life refuses to slow down, but lately she’s taken a small amount of time to indulge her interest in rock hunting...in various rock shops. She still doesn’t have enough hours to do everything she wants, but Callie figures life is a juggling act and practice makes perfect. She’s interested in everything, but her particular passions include history and nature, which fits perfectly with her love for writing, reading, hiking and walking on a beach. Between her cats, her guy and everything else, boredom is never a problem.

To Carol, and in loving memory of Joe

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Extract

Copyright

PROLOGUE

JOSH MCGREGOR REINED in his horse when his satellite phone rang. He pulled it from his saddlebag and saw his parents’ phone number on the display.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answered.

“Josh, can you get to Montana right away?” asked his mother in a trembling voice.

Alarm went through him. Mom would never sound so shaky unless something terrible had happened.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s...your...” She stopped and he could hear her crying and saying something about how she’d thought she could handle it.

His stomach twisted.

A moment later his father came on the line. “Josh, there’s been a car accident. Grandpa Walt and Grandma Evelyn. A drunk driver...”

Gripping the phone so hard his fingers hurt, Josh tried to sound calm. “How bad?” He couldn’t bring himself to ask if they were still alive.

“Bad. They were airlifted to the hospital in Helena and are both in surgery. You should get here as soon as possible...just in case.” The last words were very soft, as if that would keep them from reminding his wife that her parents could be dying.

“I’ll be there, whatever it takes,” Josh promised, his throat tightening unbearably. He loved both his grandparents, but he had a special bond with Grandma Evelyn.

“Just get here safely,” said his father. “Hear me?”

“I hear. Don’t let Mom worry.”

“All right. We love you, son.”

Josh urged his stallion into a gallop and they quickly covered the three miles back to the large barns of the Texas ranch where he worked. He tossed the reins to a ranch hand. “Take care of Lightfoot for me, will you? I’ve got a family emergency.”

“Sure, boss.”

He stopped at the ranch house to let the Gordons know he was leaving, and also to phone Mark Eisley, his second in command. A call to the airline got him on the next flight leaving for Montana.

* * *

A FEW HOURS LATER Josh charged into the reception area of the hospital.

“Josh,” a soft voice exclaimed. Emily, his new sister-in-law, jumped up from one of the seats and gave him a fierce hug. “Come on,” she said. “They’re in intensive care. It’s this way.”

Grateful, he followed her through the hallways.

“How are they?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No change in their conditions in the last couple of hours. They’re still critical. I get updates now and then, but I told Trent to stay with your mother while I waited for you. She needs all the support she can get right now.”

Until Trent had gotten together with Emily, Josh wasn’t sure his brother’s presence would have been much comfort. She’d softened his edges in ways no one else had been able to do.

The rest of the family was in the intensive care waiting room. Mom was leaning against Dad, and Trent was on the other side, holding her hand. His sister, Madison, who lived in Seattle now, was already there, as well. There was a pained stillness around the room. Even DeeDee, his brother Jackson’s lively stepdaughter, was unnaturally solemn.

His dad got up and gave him a fierce, silent hug; Parker’s embrace alone would have told Josh, if he hadn’t already known, how serious the situation was.

Sarah McGregor also stood and put her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re here, son,” she murmured. “You can see them next.”

Josh understood the drill at ICUs. Only two visitors, at limited intervals.

Ten minutes later an aide came into the room. His father nodded, and Josh went with her through a wide door. His grandmother lay in the first cubicle.

Agony shot through him as he saw the bandages on Evelyn Nelson’s head and left shoulder.

He leaned over the bed, took her right hand and whispered, “It’s Josh, Grandma.”

Her fingers tightened for a moment.

“She squeezed my hand,” he whispered to the nurse who was adjusting an IV.

The woman gave him a kind, sad look. “It’s likely just a reflex,” she said gently, but Josh didn’t believe it.

He turned back to his grandmother. “I’m going to see Grandpa now,” he whispered and felt her thumb press against his palm. “I love you.”

If possible, the nightmare got worse when Josh saw his grandfather. Walt’s face was bruised and swollen, and a machine was breathing for him. His leg was swathed with bandages, blood staining through, and Josh wondered how extensive the damage might be. Lord, Grandpa would hate to be disabled; running his ranch was everything to Walt Nelson.

“Hey, Grandpa, it’s Josh,” he said, slipping his hand around the slack fingers. But this time there wasn’t any response, not even something his imagination could build upon. “I...I just saw Grandma. She sent her love.” It was possible to say that much, given the pressure of her thumb when he’d spoken about seeing her husband.

A moment later the aide nodded toward the door and Josh reluctantly left the ICU.

Back in the waiting room, Trent silently stood and gave Josh his place beside their mother. No one was talking. His sister-in-law Kayla lay on the floor with her feet elevated, probably related to her being seven months pregnant. But she seemed all right otherwise. Jackson sat next to her, holding her hand.

Sitting and waiting was hard for Josh; he was used to long days of vigorous activity, the same as the rest of the family. But it was good to be together at a time like this, even though all they could do was wait and pray.

CHAPTER ONE

TARA LIVINGSTON LOOKED through the taxi’s window at Notre Dame and other familiar Parisian landmarks as they headed for the airport. She would miss France, and it seemed especially hard to leave as spring approached, though Paris was wonderful in every season, despite its ever-growing traffic problems.

In a rare email exchange a few months before, an old college roommate had claimed Tara was living the dream life. Maybe she was—her Facebook album contained photos of everything from Stonehenge, the Bavarian countryside and her climb up Mount Fuji to scuba diving off the Australian coast. She’d lived in five countries over the past ten years, with visits to others, and had thoroughly enjoyed each of them.

But now she was headed back to the United States...to Montana, of all places. Her few belongings had already been shipped to the temporary apartment she’d asked Lauren to find for her, though there was no telling when they would arrive.

The butterflies in Tara’s stomach had nothing to do with returning to the States, and she kept telling herself there was nothing overly significant about seeing Lauren again. Their initial meeting had been awkward, but that was to be expected when twin sisters were reunited for the first time since they were babies.

If they couldn’t find a way to connect...?

Well, Tara had always managed by herself, and the world wouldn’t fall to pieces if she continued that way. Things would be simpler, at any rate. It had often seemed that family complicated the lives of her coworkers and tied them down. She wanted to be free to live different places and do all the traveling she wanted to do.

At the airport she checked her suitcases and settled in to the first-class seat paid for by her employer—a reminder that they wanted her to sign another contract as soon as possible. They’d even given her a choice of countries. She tucked her purse under the seat while wondering if she should pick somewhere new or go back to one of the places she’d loved so much.

A decision could wait until she began negotiating with her company about a new contract. She planned to be in Montana for three months. Lauren had invited her to stay in her spare bedroom, but Tara had wanted her own place. Lauren Spencer might be her twin, but she was still a stranger, and Tara wasn’t ready to live with another stranger. Her entire childhood had been spent living with strangers, being shuttled from one foster home to another.

The trip went well, albeit with a few layovers and transfers, but Tara was used to travel and made the connections to Helena without a problem.

“Tara,” called a voice as she arrived at the baggage claim area after landing. It was her sister, smiling tentatively, and their alikeness surprised Tara all over again. They had the same long blond hair, the same blue eyes with tiny flecks of gold, and the same height and build.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she said. “I have to get a rental car, anyway.”

“I caught a ride with someone so we could travel back together—I couldn’t let you fly in without being met.”

“That’s nice.” Tara was far more accustomed to disembarking alone than she was to having someone greet her. Still, it was a nice gesture from her sister, and the effort was appreciated.

“Is this all you brought?” Lauren asked, looking at Tara’s two bags when they arrived on the carousel.

“I mailed a few boxes, but I travel light. I’ll buy anything the apartment lacks and leave it behind when I go.”

“Hopefully the apartment will be all right. It’s just a block from where I live and fully furnished the way you wanted, but the landlord said he’d understand if you decide to find somewhere else. He was surprised you didn’t want to choose your own place.”

“I’m used to it,” Tara explained. “The company I work for makes my living arrangements, which saves time. Besides, I’m not fussy. It’s just a place to sleep.”

After picking up the vehicle she’d reserved, Tara set the GPS and headed for Schuyler, a small town a couple of hours away.

“How was the flight?” Lauren asked after they’d passed the Helena city limits.

“I slept part of the way, which made it shorter.”

“Even so, you must be exhausted. The jet lag got me pretty bad when I flew back to California after visiting you in Paris.”

“Right. I’ll probably go to bed almost as soon as we get to the apartment.”

It was a good excuse to cut the day short. They ate supper on the way, and there was a second hug after they arrived at the furnished apartment, which was much nicer than Tara had expected in a small town in the wilds of Montana.

“I’ll come to the clinic tomorrow and take you out to lunch,” Tara promised. She didn’t want things to be uncomfortable with Lauren, but she didn’t know how else to act. Her twin was obviously better with people than she’d ever learned to be.

Lauren brightened. “That would be great.”

So Tara had the evening to regroup and unpack her bags, and she could sleep late the next morning. She reminded herself that nobody could expect to build a sisterly relationship overnight. After all, anybody who believed twins automatically connected had never spent more than thirty years apart from their sibling.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN the order was canceled?” Josh barked into the phone. “I was expecting it to arrive this week. I’ve got heifers ready to breed.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. McGregor, but that’s what our records say,” explained the woman on the other end of the line. “We received a call that you didn’t need it.”

“Who called?” Josh demanded, though he was certain who was responsible.

“Walt Nelson is the name on my form. He had the purchase order number as confirmation.”

“Thank you,” Josh said crisply. “In the future, please note that I’m the only one who can cancel orders.”

“Very well.”

He slammed down the receiver and strode out to the yard where his grandfather was sitting.

“Why did you cancel my order from the Double J Ranch?” he asked.

Walt set his jaw. “Because we don’t need any frozen bull semen. Especially from Texas.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Texas,” Josh returned, trying not to lose his temper. Grandpa was an old-school rancher and had never forgotten the remark from a visiting Texan about Montana’s “little ole cows.” He’d never forgiven it, either. Josh supposed it hadn’t helped when he’d taken a job in the Lone Star state. Fifteen years ago, he’d tried working on the Boxing N during first his summer break in college but had been treated like a peon with no horse sense. Things weren’t much better now.

“Huh.” Walt crossed his arms over his chest. “They might have done mail-order breeding at that fancy-dancy ranch where you worked down there, but my cattle are already first-rate. If we want to vary it up, we make arrangements with our neighbors.”

Why couldn’t he understand? Josh wanted to produce top-grade organic beef. He had started the process of getting the Boxing N’s grazing land certified as pesticide-free, but even in the parts of the ranch that couldn’t be certified, he wanted to improve the stock. And borrowing a bull from a neighbor’s ranch wasn’t the improvement he had in mind. The Double J Ranch had prize-winning bull semen for sale, and it was exactly the upgrade he wanted.

Of course...he could go to his brother. Jackson’s breeding program was well-known, but Josh didn’t want to slide in on his family’s coattails. It already felt as if he was behind the curve since Grandpa had delayed his retirement so long.

The thought sent a mix of sorrow and guilt through Josh.

Twenty-five years ago, Grandpa Walt and his brother had made plans for the futures of their respective ranches. Since Mitch was older and didn’t have children and Walt had two grandsons, Jackson and Josh, they agreed that Mitch would retire and give his ranch to his great-nephew once Jackson got out of college. Walt, in turn, would give the Boxing N spread to his younger grandson, Josh. Except Walt Nelson hadn’t retired when Josh graduated college, he’d kept working...until the accident.

“I have a plan for the Boxing N, and bull semen from the Double J is part of it,” Josh said as calmly as possible. In the four months since Grandpa had given him the ranch, he’d danced around, trying to be considerate and respectful, but the situation was wearing on him.

“Fancy-dancy nonsense,” Walt proclaimed. “That isn’t the way we do things here.” He stood. “I’m going to see how Grasshopper is doing. It’s her first foal.”

As Walt Nelson limped toward the foaling barn, Josh held back a howl of frustration. Grandpa couldn’t let go of being boss, but you couldn’t have two bosses on a ranch, especially two with such dissimilar ideas.

Perhaps it harked back to the old rivalry between the Nelsons, Josh’s mother’s family, and the McGregors, his father’s. It hadn’t been a blood feud, but it was fierce nonetheless, and it must have been a terrible blow to Walt when his only child fell in love with someone from the enemy camp. Walt still didn’t really approve of the McGregors.

Needing space, Josh went to the barn, saddled Lightfoot and rode toward the north section of the ranch.

His frustration doubled when he saw slack wire on a fence. One of the ranch hands should have found the problem and taken care of it, but they were confused about whose orders to follow, who was doing what and when to do it. And they were also shorthanded since several men had quit, telling Josh that they’d return once Walt was out of the picture. Between the two problems, things were getting missed.

Taking the tools from his saddlebag, Josh began repairing the fence. Grappling with wire was preferable to the tug-of-war he was having with his grandfather. He would have used his trust fund to buy a different ranch years ago if he’d known everything would turn out this way. Now he was stuck—Walt couldn’t handle the Boxing N alone, and Josh couldn’t abandon the old guy, no matter how crazy the situation made him.

Distracted, Josh felt his hand slip. The wire cutters slashed across his palm and blood immediately welled from the ragged slice.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

* * *

TARA WALKED DOWN the street, following the directions to the clinic that Lauren had given her. It was almost surreal to see so many people dressed in jeans, boots and cowboy hats, as if she’d walked onto the set of a Hollywood Western.

Just three days before she’d been at the Chartres cathedral, brushing shoulders with visitors from around the world. It had been a farewell trip to one of her favorite French landmarks since she didn’t know how soon she’d be back. Now she was living in the land of cowboys and hitching posts. She only knew they were hitching posts because she saw a horse tied to one.

Stopping in front of the Schuyler Medical Clinic—a modest title since apparently it covered a vast array of services—Tara straightened her shoulders. The drive from Helena with her sister had been filled with awkward silences and even more awkward bursts of conversation. Still, it was too early to draw any conclusions about how well they would get along.

It didn’t help that she wasn’t good at relationships in the first place. Her most serious boyfriend, Pierre Montrose, had made her failures in that area abundantly clear.

Pushing the memory away, she entered the clinic.

The receptionist’s eyes widened. “You must be Tara. The two of you really do look alike.”

Tara tried to smile. She would probably hear that often while she was in town.

The other woman looked at the clock. “Lauren should be ready soon.”

“Thanks.”

Lauren was a physician’s assistant and had moved to Schuyler the previous year. She’d come for a friend’s wedding and had immediately decided the small town suited her much better than Los Angeles. It wouldn’t have been Tara’s choice, but to each their own, she supposed.

As she perused a rack of magazines, the outer door opened. A man stomped inside, his left arm wrapped in a bloodstained towel. He was attractive, with dark brown hair and intense blue eyes, but his face was flushed and scowling.

“Good, you’re here,” he said, thrusting his injured limb at her. “I need this stitched up, and please skip the lectures.”

Tara raised her eyebrows. “I’m afraid you—”

“Give me a break, Lauren. Just do it without one of your speeches.”

His manner was startlingly abrupt...surely all Montanans weren’t this rude.

“I was trying to explain that you’ve mistaken me for my twin sister, Lauren,” Tara said, keeping her tone as even as possible. It wasn’t easy. She’d never had a cat, but she knew it annoyed them if you rubbed their fur backward, and that’s how she felt...as if she’d literally been rubbed the wrong way.

“What the hell?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“I’d like to point something out, however,” she added smoothly. “Declaring you don’t want a lecture suggests you may need one.”

“You’ve got one hell of a nerve saying that,” he snapped.

“Didn’t I get it right?” she asked. “Tell me what happened and I’ll try to tailor my lecture.”

“Hell.”

“You seem to have a limited vocabulary. That was your third ‘hell’ in less than a minute.”

He glared and turned to the receptionist. “Is Lauren available?”