“Resting,” he answered quietly after lifting a hand in response to Will’s greeting. “She’s been better, hearing that you’d decided to stay like she’d hoped.”
She looked up at her parents’ window. The curtain wasn’t drawn today. Her heart did a funny lurch in her chest. “I’m glad she’s better. I called to check.”
His heavy sigh filled her with compassion. “Yes, I— Thank you for that. Things were busy with taking care of her and my patients.”
“Of course,” she answered woodenly. “Well, I?—”
“Hannah,” her father began, clearing his throat. “I’m glad you stood up to Taft by staying.”
Emotion swamped her. She could hear a glimmer of pride in his voice. Going with that, she gave a rueful smile. “I’m a Montgomery, aren’t I?”
He finally looked up and met her gaze. Yes, there was paternal pride—along with a hundred regrets she was neversure they’d overcome. “Your mother would like you to come by.”
Her heart was suddenly beating faster. Was this a peace offering? “When?”
“Anytime you wish,” he only said, touching her arm and starting back toward the house.
He didn’t say goodbye or anything, but even after he’d disappeared inside, she felt the urge to almost smile.Smile. At something related to her parents. Who would ever have imagined it?
When they were finally inside the Prentice house and horsing around with the boys, she noticed the window to her mother’s bedroom was open. Hannah wondered if it was so she could hear their laughter. Being the only woman, her mother would have no trouble making it out. The thought warmed her.
Later that night, she slipped out while Neil was making travel arrangements to head back to Scotland and close down his affairs. With the concrete foundation almost dried and cured, he was sorry to miss helping in the construction, but Will assured him the center would be ready for him to hit the ground running when he returned in a few weeks.
Hannah planned to be as ready as she could be, but an equally important consideration was Ben.
An owl called as she arrived in front of his house, making her jump a mile. Frowning, she crouched down to pick up a handful of pebbles. Sighting the windows of his room, she lifted her hand and let it rip. Moments later, the window was lifting.
“Is that hail I hear? Or Hannah Montgomery?” a deep masculine voice asked.
She gave a lighthearted laugh. “Don’t you know, cowboy?”
“Oh, I know.” His velvet reply had her skin tingling. “I might have even conjured her up. I was just thinking aboutthat little spitfire now that my boy’s tucked up tight in his bed after we had a fun night of horsing around. Be down in a hot second.”
Wrapping her arms around herself, she swayed in the quiet night. The crickets were giving the night their best symphony, the stars were bright overhead, but more than anything, she could feel the warm summer breeze reminding her she was home. In Montana.
Where she belonged.
The screen door creaked as Ben let himself out of the house. She heard his boots thump on the porch steps, and then he stepped into the muted light, looking as broad and strong as Wild Mountain herself.
Running toward him with all the joy in her heart, she jumped and threw her arms around him.
“Now that’s a welcome,” he mused, securing her body against his. “Someone must be in a celebratory mood.”
So he was going to call it out. Good. She didn’t want to pussyfoot around. “I am. Should I say thanks?”
He gave an amused snort and tapped her nose. “It was Will’s idea.”
If that’s how he was going to play it, she could play along. Peppering his face with kisses, she shared all the love in her heart. “Ben, I’m so happy.”
His hands settled around her waist. “I see that. Only your aim is off.”
When he pointed at his mouth, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him senseless.
“You know,” he said in a silky voice, inches from her lips when he pulled back, “we’re making a spectacle of ourselves.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know. I’ll bet Ghost is somewhere with his paws over his face to keep from watching us.”
“Indeed,” he mused, kissing her in small little passes that had her yearning for more.
