Hunter's Montana Bride (Montana Ranchers and Brides #8) Read Free Page A

pulled up next to them.
    Gretchen felt herself freeze. She was sure that the blood had drained from her face. Looking up at the startled rider she managed to force his name out of her suddenly dry throat.
    "Trent!"
    From his vantage point atop his mount a very startled looking Trent McIntyre looked down into the carriage with a look of complete disbelief on his face.
    "Gretchen. It's you," he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion.
    There was a stunned silence between them which was only broken when Trent's horse shifted nervously, sensing the rider's tension. Trent tugged on the reins and glanced quickly at Beatrice and Gideon. Gretchen's father was still holding onto the reins with a tight fist.
    Gretchen felt the sudden need to take control of the situation. "Mama. Papa. You remember Mr. Trent McIntyre," she said.
    Trent straightened in his saddle. He raised his hat and smiled weakly at Gretchen's mother. "Ma'am. I recall we met at the..." he started to say. However his words immediately trailed off at the near mention of the wedding.
    "I do recall, Mr. McIntyre. It's so nice to see you once again," Beatrice said.
    Gideon tipped his hat and leaned across the long wooden front seat. "I recall you are a neighbouring rancher to my..."
    "It's so nice to see you, Trent. How is your lovely wife?" Gretchen said, interrupting her father.
    Trent's eyes widened and he paused, glancing from Gideon to Gretchen. "Chloe? She's fine."
    "And your lovely little one?" Gretchen asked.
    "Evan's great. And we have a little girl too, now."
    "Really? That's wonderful. What's her name?"
    Trent smiled at the mere mention of his recently born daughter. "Lily."
    Gretchen cooed with delight. "That's so lovely. I am so happy for you," she said enthusiastically.
    Trent nodded and his chest seemed to swell with pride. "She's got us both run off our feet. But she's adorable," he said.
    Trent leaned on his pommel and tipped the front of his hat up. "Where're you folks headed?" he asked. Gretchen could see Trent's eyes narrow slightly. She could tell he already knew where she and her parent's were headed. There was nowhere else they could possibly be going.
    "We're on our way to the ranch," Gretchen said.
    After a moment Trent uttered one word which made something shift in Gretchen's middle. Something she'd felt so many times these past months. It was a feeling she'd tried so often to ignore, but had failed to do every time.
    "Hunter's?" Trent asked, his voice deep and serious.
    The word hung in the air like a challenge, demanding an answer. At first neither Gretchen nor her parents could respond to the word.
    But after a long pause Gretchen spoke up: "Of course," she said, a tinge of defiance creeping into her voice. She immediately regretted taking that tone because one thing she knew about Trent McIntyre was that he didn't deserve to be spoken to with any kind of harshness. Trent was a good man. She recalled how Hunter had spoken about his friend. And the times she and Trent and Chloe had socialized had always left Gretchen with pleasant memories.
    Gretchen wondered for a moment whether she should ask how Hunter was keeping. Was he well? Was he even happy? Was he alone?
    The fact that Trent hadn't said anything must mean that Hunter was still at the ranch.
    "Have you just come from Hunter's ranch?" Gretchen asked.
    Trent paused and Gretchen saw him settle back into the saddle. He looked as if he were debating whether to answer. After a moment he nodded. "I was just there this morning, helping out with some of his improvements to the ranch house," he said.
    "Improvements?" Gretchen asked.
    Trent smiled. "Hunter likes to keep himself busy. He's making some extra room at the house."
    "Why ever for?" Gretchen asked.
    Trent's lips tightened into a thin line and he said nothing for a moment.
    Gideon spoke up. "I'm pleased to know Mr. Sinclair is in today. We have some important business to discuss with him," Gretchen's father said gruffly.
    "Papa. Why must