Summer Angel

Chapter 1-2

Luke nodded. “Yup. Straight A’s, Mom.”

She happily hugged him again. “I am so proud of you! But we’ll have to be smug about it later because we need to get out of here. I have to work at the Ramshorn tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“Mary called about an hour ago. Damon quit.”

“That sucks. Need any help? I don’t have much homework, and isn’t that group coming in tonight? Besides, it’s better than sitting around the cabin by myself.”

“I’d appreciate it, and I’m sure Mary will be all right with that.”

By the time they reached the cabin, it was already five o’clock. It took only a couple minutes for June to change and let Cheyenne out, though the golden retriever was not pleased to be left home alone again. They made it to the lodge by five-thirty and were greeted by a harried but relieved Mary Struthers. The thickly lacquered log tables were empty at the moment, but the lull wouldn’t last long.

“June, thank you so much. Marvin was going to give you a hand tonight, but he had to help Matt Carlyle unload. The cows he bought at the auction in Great Falls will be here tonight instead of tomorrow, and everyone else is enlisted to help elsewhere. So, Luke, if you wouldn’t mind helping your mom—after you finish your homework, of course—we’d be very appreciative. Make sure you put your time down. Oh, the party from Oregon called a little bit ago. They should be here within an hour. I was running chicken-fried steak as the special, but if you want to do something else, you go right ahead.”

“Chicken-fried steak is fine. Anything else?”

“I hate to ask, but would you mind doing a little dusting if you get a chance? I was going to earlier, but it was busy, and then I got side-tracked by bookwork….”

“We’ve got it covered, Mary,” June replied. “Go home.”

“I’m so sorry to take your grading night, but—”

“It’s okay, Mary. Go.”

The pepper-haired older woman smiled gratefully, jotted down her time on the sheet behind the bar, grabbed her lightweight jacket, and zipped out the door.

June took the duster out from the storage closet and went to work, and Luke promptly took up residence on the couch to finish what little homework he hadn’t gotten to during the ride home from Devyn.

She dusted her way efficiently around the lodge’s dining area, making better time than she’d thought she would. Rustic was a fitting term for this place, which had first been imprinted in her mind the summer after her freshman year of high school. The walls were paneled with vertical, hand-peeled log halves, the carpet was a durable gray-blue, and the light fixtures were simple wrought-iron chandeliers with six lights each.

When she got around to the mantle over the fireplace, she paused to peruse the dozen photographs Mary had placed there to give the lodge a homey feel. There was a picture of her and Luke that the Ramshorn’s owner had taken last year at the high school state championship game. Luke looked so handsome in his football pads and navy-and-gold home jersey with his blond hair mussed from his helmet and a brilliant smile igniting his entire face. He had his arm around her shoulders. In the photo, she’d still been a couple inches taller than Luke, but she wasn’t anymore. In fact, he was beginning to make her feel rather short.

At the moment, Luke was still stretched out on the couch in front of the dark fireplace, diligently finishing his homework. Life had changed a lot with him around and definitely for the better. She leaned against the mantle and studied him for a moment with a frown furrowing her brows, wishing that having him in her life hadn’t come with the price of losing a friend. Often, her musings about how she’d come to adopt Luke were entwined with thoughts of the man whose bullet had set the process in motion. Ah, Ben.

Half a decade removed, the grief and self-loathing in his face the last time she’d seen him—an hour or so before the initial meeting regarding Luke’s fostering—still pained him, as did the memory of that moment he’d turned from her. As she’d watched him walk away, she realized she had to let him go, that nothing she could say would ease the guilt that engulfed him until he was ready to open his heart and forgive himself.

Sighing, she set her worries aside and went back to work, clinging to the fading hope that he’d someday find his way out of the darkness and come home. She finished the worst of the dusting and walked behind the bar to pull out the guest log and get the packets ready. Mary had left her notes about who was staying where and what activities to explain to them for their week stay; she was a little disappointed she couldn’t go on the trail ride on Monday. Luke should be done with his homework by the time the party arrived and could show them to their lodgings.

No sooner had she put the guest log back in its place than seven people walked in the door for dinner. She glanced briefly out the window when she heard more vehicles and saw several Northstar ranch hands pull up. It was going to be a hectic evening, but she wouldn’t trade it or anything in her life for the world.

“Welcome to the Ramshorn Lodge,” she greeted the diners. “I’m June. Have a seat wherever you like and I’ll bring over some menus.”

And so it begins, June thought as she grabbed the menus from the bar.

Four years ago, JP had been certain his prize was lost when Adam Winters had strolled through the doors of the Bedspread Inn to confront Aelissm Davis and Patrick O’Neil. He’d spent a tense hour standing in the back corner of the dining room, waiting to be singled out as the events that had brought Winters to Montana simmered to a conclusion. Alternately shaking his head at Winters’s spineless forfeit and praying the man would continue to ignore him, JP had finally found the opportunity to escape the crowded dining room. He’d spent the rest of the night in a cold sweat, fighting to maintain control. He couldn’t shrink away like a coward again. If he did, he’d lie down and let his chance to claim his woman roll right past him like he had before. He was damned if he was going to let that happen again, but right then, there had been too many variables. So he’d stepped back to wait and assess the situation.

In the intervening years, he’d slowly come to realize there was no danger. Adam Winters had either forgotten about the man with whom he’d spent so many nights drinking in the lounge of the Paradise Motel in Devyn or had kept his promise. His deluded companion had since moved to Bozeman, married the young woman who’d diverted his attention from Aelissm, and if the rumors he’d heard were true, they’d recently added a little girl to their family. Perhaps things hadn’t turned out so badly for Adam Winters. A wife and daughter were nothing to complain about, certainly. But JP still thought Winters had taken the coward’s way out by settling for Amber instead of fighting for Aelissm.

That was something JP refused to do. He wanted June Montana, and no one was going to stop him from getting her. Besides, there was no Amber for him. June was the only woman who could fill the gaping hole in his heart. For that all too brief time years ago, she had. He smiled at her as she brushed past on the way to the Ramshorn’s kitchen, shivering a little inside when her lips curved in response. Taking another sip of his coffee, he watched her saunter out of sight around the corner into the kitchen. Damn, she was beautiful. Tall and graceful with an athletic build and slim, elegant curves. And oblivious of her appeal.

Beside him, Austin McGuire, a fellow Northstar ranch hand, shook his head and let out a low whistle. “If only I were a younger man,” he said.

His son Shane lifted his brows in amusement. “Good thing you aren’t. She’s my best friend’s mom!”

“So?”

“Luke’ll pulverize me at football camp this summer if I don’t defend her honor from my lecherous old father.”

The other ranch hands sitting at the counter with them chuckled in amusement. Austin’s eyes glittered with laughter.

It wasn’t long before JP’s companions went back to their meals. From the corner of his vision, he watched June glide through the dining room to check on her customers.

When she’d seen to everyone, she settled behind the thick log bar and again picked up her schoolwork. Frowning, he turned his attention more fully to her. She was a dedicated, talented teacher. Even Shane, who hated science, loved her classes. The same qualities that made her such a great educator also made her difficult to get close to. JP tried not to sneer. She put her job and her students before all else, including—or especially—the few men she chose to date, and she’d told him as much, once.

Shaking his head, he corrected himself. There was one person who came before even teaching in June’s life.

Her adopted son, Luke.

His gaze shifted to the young man now striding through the front door after showing the party from Oregon to their cabins. Luke McKindel, as he’d been back then, was now Luke Montana and had grown from a short, skinny, scared-of-his-own-shadow pre-teen to a tall, strong, and charismatic sixteen-year-old with far too much confidence. Everything else he had—June’s undivided devotion, an athletic ability that made JP seethe with envy, and a sharp intelligence—was topped off with hair the color of late afternoon sunlight, laughing blue eyes, and a boyishly-handsome face. He had it all. And he deserved none of it. Not after he’d stolen June from JP.

It wasn’t June’s fault. She was only doing what came naturally to her. It was the boy who had turned her from him, and he deserved to suffer for it.

JP’s fingers clenched around his coffee mug as mindless rage consumed him. Only by momentarily allowing his weaker side to flicker to the front was he able to swallow his hatred. As soon as his pulse slowed and his grip on the mug loosened, JP subverted that spineless part of him, effectively wrapping its fragile nature in a cocoon of sweet vengeance. His gentler half was pained by June’s rejection and her declaration of loyalties but couldn’t find the strength to right the wrongs anymore than it had been able to bear the horror of his brother’s suicide, an event that had irreparably fractured him. JP, on the other hand, hadn’t balked at the splatter of blood and brain matter on the walls of Paul’s bedroom nor gagged at the gaping hole in his beloved sibling’s skull, and he wouldn’t hesitate to spill a little more blood to get his satisfaction, either.

He lifted the coffee mug to his lips and sipped. He couldn’t let his anger get the best of him. Anger led to mistakes, and he couldn’t afford any more mistakes.

“Well, c’mon, boys. We ought to get down to the C Diamond and see if Old Matt needs a little extra help before we head up to Andy’s for poker,” Austin said. He grabbed the check off the bar and paid. “June, thanks for the coffee and the grub.”

She lifted her head and smiled. “You’re welcome. Don’t work or play too hard tonight, boys.”

“Never,” JP replied with a laugh.