The Rancher's Prospect Read Free

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.
    * * *
    T ARA 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.”
    â€œThanks.”
    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.
    â€œGood, 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—”
    â€œGive me a break, Lauren. Just do it without one of your speeches.”
    His manner was startlingly abrupt...surely all Montanans weren’t this rude.
    â€œI 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.
    â€œWhat the hell?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
    â€œI’d like to point something out, however,” she added smoothly. “Declaring you don’t want a lecture suggests you may need one.”
    â€œYou’ve got one hell of a nerve saying that,” he snapped.
    â€œDidn’t I get it right?” she asked. “Tell me what happened and I’ll try to tailor my lecture.”
    â€œHell.”
    â€œYou 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?”
    â€œI’ve already paged her, Josh. She’ll be out in a minute. Has the bleeding