A Match Made in Montana. Joanna SimsЧитать онлайн книгу.
made her jump.
Startled, Josephine let go of the screen door handle and it slammed back into place. Her heart gave one hard thud in her chest; she placed her hand over her heart.
“Sorry,” Logan said in a loud whisper. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
“Your attempt to not scare me scared me,” Josephine whispered back.
“Sorry,” he repeated.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Josephine hesitated for a second before she decided to join him. It wasn’t ideal; she wanted to be alone. But she wanted to sit outside in her favorite rocking chair more than she wanted to go back upstairs. She sat down in the rocking chair, glad that Logan wasn’t occupying it, and sighed more loudly than she had intended.
“Taking a break from your studies?” Logan asked.
Obviously, he’s going to insist on talking.
“Insomnia. Chronic.”
“It takes me a while to get comfortable in a strange bed.”
Josephine nodded silently.
“I wanted to get to bed early so I could get up early to hike. I suppose I’m going to have to plan on covering less ground tomorrow.”
For the first time since she had joined him, Josephine turned her head his way. “You like to hike?”
Logan moved over to the rocking chair next to her so he could talk to her in a quiet voice. “Hiking, mountain climbing, rock climbing, anything outdoors...if you can name it, I’m probably into it. How about you? Growing up in a place like this, you must love to hike.”
“I used to hike all over these mountains when I was a kid. No matter how old I get, I think I’ll always love these mountains the most.”
“Well...” Logan stood up. “I think I’m gonna give sleep another try. But if you want to join me, I’m thinking about heading out around seven, seven-thirty.”
“There’s so much to do around here with the wedding. But thank you, though.”
“Sure.” Logan headed down the porch stairs, using the light of the moon to light his footing. At the bottom of the steps, Logan paused to look back at her.
“If you change your mind, I wouldn’t mind the company.”
“I’ll let you know. Good night, Logan.”
“Good night.” Hands in his pockets, Logan strolled in the moonlight the short distance back to Tyler’s bachelor cabin.
She had wanted him to go; she had been relieved when he got up to leave. But now that she was alone on the porch, and alone with her thoughts, Josephine suddenly regretted that Logan had left. He had distracted her, temporarily, from her melancholy and now it was back. Instead of staying on the porch, as she intended, she crept back inside, popped some over-the-counter sleeping aids, and took a steaming hot bath. If she could just get herself to sleep, if she could just demand that her body go to sleep, things would most likely appear less crappy in the morning. Josephine got into bed with that hope. She punched her pillows, kicked at her sheets and blanket, and finally, stiffly, flopped onto her back, hugged one of her pillows to her chest, and closed her eyes. She had already made up her mind that she was going to stay right where she was until she fell asleep. Even if it took all night.
* * *
The next morning, Josephine wasn’t surprised when she awakened before the alarm went off. Even with insomnia, she had always been an early riser. Ranger had meowed at her bedroom door until she had finally relented and let him in. Why he had picked her, she couldn’t be sure, but he had curled his body around the top of her head and she had fallen asleep to the rhythmic sound of his loud purring. After she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, Josephine sat up slowly, scooped Ranger into her arms, and hugged him. He started to purr again, and she kissed him on the head before she set him gently on the bed. She could hear her family already stirring downstairs and she wanted to join them.
“Let’s go see what everyone is up to,” she said to Ranger.
Josephine got dressed quickly and headed downstairs.
“Good morning.” Josephine walked into the kitchen with Ranger trotting along beside her.
The smell of homemade biscuits, sizzling butter, sweet bacon, and eggs permeated the kitchen. Mom was at the industrial-grade stove, frying up more eggs. Her father, Hank, was in his usual seat at the head of the long rectangular table that could seat up to twenty ranch workers if necessary. The family dog, a German shepherd named Ilsa, was sitting to Hank’s left, patiently waiting for her father to sneak her a piece of bacon. Tyler was at his father’s right hand, guzzling down a large mug of coffee loaded with cream and sugar. Logan sat to Tyler’s right, quietly eating his breakfast. It was strange for her to see someone else occupying what had been Daniel’s favored seat at the table. Logan nodded his head and smiled at her; she gave him a quick smile in return.
“Good morning, sweetheart, did you sleep well?” Barbara Brand tilted her head a bit so her daughter could give her their customary kiss.
“Once I finally fell asleep, I slept like a rock.” Josephine wrapped her arms around her mom’s shoulders from behind, gave her a quick hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
No matter what time in the morning, Barbara was always put together. Her mom smelled faintly of her signature perfume; her hair, blond streaked with silver, was pulled back off her classically pretty face into a chignon, and her makeup was light and flawlessly applied. The woman never gave up. She had lived with dirty cowboys and cows for over forty years, but she had refused to let go of her sophisticated, big-city Chicago roots. Her mottos were Simplicity Is Elegance and A Woman Can Be Stylish Anywhere. And she lived those mottos on a daily basis.
“Orange juice is on the table. Scrambled or fried?” Barbara pointed to the eggs with her spatula.
“I think I’m just going to grab coffee and a banana.” Josephine put her hands lightly on her mom’s shoulders. “Can I help?”
“No, honey, I’m just doing my thing. Go spend some time with Dad before he disappears for the day.” Barbara started to flip the eggs over one by one.
Next, Josephine greeted her father with a hug and a kiss.
“Mornin’, Princess. You’re up with the rooster.” Her father squeezed her hand affectionately.
Henry “Hank” Brand had Montana ranching in his blood. His family had owned the Bent Tree Cattle Ranch for four generations. Raising cattle was what Hank loved to do; he was in his early sixties, but he was tall and lean and could still sit straight in the saddle with the youngest ranch hands. He had thick silver hair, usually hidden beneath a cowboy hat, and he had bright blue trademark Brand eyes, deeply set, that stood out in contrast to the tanned skin of his narrow face.
“Sit right here next to me.” Hank leaned over and pulled the chair out for his daughter to join him.
Josephine grabbed a cup of coffee and then headed back to the table. Before she sat down, she hugged Ilsa around the neck; the shepherd was definitely starting to show her age. Ilsa was graying around her muzzle and eyes. Josephine took the seat next to her father and reached for a large ripe banana from a bowl of fruit. Tyler stopped chewing for a second to smile at her with closed lips; he nodded to the pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice. She held out her glass for Tyler to fill it for her.
“So what you were saying, Logan, is that we might be able to relocate the chapel?” Hank pushed his plate forward and reached for his mug full of steaming black coffee.
“I don’t know why we’re even discussing this.” Barbara walked back over to the table, her hands resting firmly on her hips. “We aren’t changing the venue for the wedding. I’ve been killing myself for over a year with all of these arrangements. We’ve paid the deposit, the invitations have been sent out...” Everyone in the kitchen, including the dog, was focused