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  But that was Wes’s problem.

  She felt so much better now that she had a plan of action. She was sick of waiting and praying for Wes to get in touch, being on edge to see what he would do or say next.

  Nat insisted that he would drive, and that they’d be taking his truck. She didn’t argue, knowing there would be no point.

  He was waiting for her out there, now, checking the address she’d given him for the Wilkinson’s on his GPS.

  On her way out the door, Mattie paused for a final check over her shoulder. She didn’t often leave her home unattended, but she knew she could count on Nat’s men to watch over everything.

  Snow pelted the exposed skin on her face as she dashed from her door to the passenger side of Nat’s truck. Gratefully she jumped up to the heated seat and stared out the windshield to an almost complete white-out.

  “Sure you don’t want to wait this storm out?” Nat’s hands were on the steering wheel as he turned to look at her.

  “I’ve driven in worse.” And she knew he had too. You couldn’t live your entire life in Montana without driving in less than optimum conditions a lot.

  But she did feel guilty for taking Nat away from his comfortable home. “I can handle this. Really. You don’t need to drive me.”

  She didn’t expect him to capitulate, and he didn’t. He just eased the truck out of park and pushed through the snow drifts toward the main road. What was normally a seven hour drive was going to take a lot longer today.

  But she didn’t mind. Nat had his iPod hooked up so they could listen to tunes. And despite the raging storm outdoors, it was warm and cozy in his truck.

  Surreptitiously Mattie studied the man beside her. Nat had a gorgeous profile, with his straight nose, firm jaw and chin and perfectly proportioned lips. Despite the dreadful conditions he seemed perfectly at ease behind the wheel.

  She had to laugh at the incongruity of the situation. “Three months ago—if someone had told me you and I would be driving to Billings in a blizzard, I never would have believed it.”

  “Yeah. Life can turn on a dime. I’ve experienced it, myself.”

  Was he talking about his ex-wife? “Do you and Julia keep in touch?”

  “She sends me an e-mail every now and then. It’s usually about three pages long, telling me everywhere she’s been and all the people she’s met. She never did marry again. But she keeps looking.”

  “She’s a beautiful woman.” Mattie wasn’t insecure about her own appearance, but being around Julia had always made her feel like plain, beige wallpaper.

  “I once thought so.”

  “Not anymore?”

  “Disillusion warps a guy’s perspective. Not that I blame her for what went wrong between us. I was a fool to marry her. It was like I’d made a list of qualities I wanted in a wife, then went out and looked for someone who had none of them.”

  The rhythmic swish, swish, swish of the windshield wipers, blended with the sweet voice of Alison Kraus singing about not letting go, now that I’ve found you. Mattie leaned her head back and thought about what Nat had said.

  “What were those qualities you wanted?

  “Someone who could be happy with the simple things. That’s a key one. Love animals. Nature. Not afraid of hard work, or getting her nails broken.”

  “I see those kinds of people every day.”

  “Me, too,” Nat agreed. “One in particular is so beautiful, she puts Julia to shame.”

  Mattie felt a zap of pleasure, tinged with surprise... and sexual awareness. Was he talking about her? He smiled, but said nothing further. And she didn’t dare open her mouth, either.

  Neither one of them was compelled to fill every minute with chatter. Yet, about ten minutes later, it felt completely natural to Mattie to continue their conversation.

  “I was so young when I met Wes. I never gave a thought to what qualities would make a good husband. My dad told me I should insist Wes give up the rodeo and focus full time on the ranch. I ignored him, but it was pretty good advice. Of course, I never dreamed that nineteen years later Wes would still be bulldogging for his living...”

  Now she couldn’t help wondering if the reason Wes had stuck with the rodeo for so long was because he hadn’t been happy at home.

  With her. The ranch. The girls.

  Was it one of those things more than the other? Or all three that he’d tired of?

  Mattie felt anger heating up in her midsection again. Wes could quit ranching. He could divorce her. But he couldn’t opt out of being a father. It would kill her to see him hurt the girls that way.

  But of course, they’d already been hurt.

  And it might get worse...

  * * *

  At Missoula they stopped for coffee and sandwiches. The little local coffee shop had Wi-Fi, and seeing all the customers with their laptops and smartphones, made Mattie think of something.

  Wes must have been paid a lot of money for those horses he’d sold.

  Had he deposited the funds into their bank account?

  “Nat, did you pack a laptop with you?”

  “Need to check your e-mail?”

  “Actually, I want to access my online banking. I’m wondering what Wes did with the money he got for our horses.”

  Nat’s eyes narrowed. “Hang on. I’ve got an iPad in the truck.”

  Five minutes later, Mattie was logged in and able to see all of her and Wes’s account balances, checking account, as well as savings. The balances were just what she’d expected.

  “The money isn’t here.” She logged out, then handed Nat back his iPad.

  “That isn’t right. Half of that money belongs to you.”

  Suddenly not hungry, Mattie tossed the crust of her tuna sandwich, then picked up her to-go coffee mug. Nat was ready, as well, and soon they were back on the road, listening to Blues Traveler Legend sing about mountains and not doing much talking. Mattie sensed Nat was just as angry as she was.

  They needed gas and a bathroom break by Butte. All the while, the snow never gave up, not even for a minute, and Nat refused Mattie’s offer to share in the driving.

  “I’m not tired. Besides, I make a cranky backseat driver.”

  “Yeah, you and every other male over eighteen in the state of Montana,” she muttered.

  “What was that?”

  She just smiled. Actually, she didn’t mind being a passenger. She’d already had a few naps and the extra rest had helped clear away the fog from the previous night.

  “I’m embarrassed about last night. Thanks for rescuing me. I can’t believe I had so much to drink. I must have looked ridiculous.”

  “No. That’s not the word I’d use.”

  She waited to see if he’d supply an alternate descriptor. But he didn’t. She used a mitten to wipe away a patch of fog accumulating on her passenger side window. It didn’t help. She still couldn’t make out a thing, even though it was three in the afternoon. She figured they’d be in Billings by seven. Despite the poor conditions, Nat was making decent time.

  “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “So you let your hair down for a couple of hours. Don’t beat yourself up about it. A few drinks. A little dancing. A lot of folks would call that a normal night on the town.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Making me feel better about myself. My life has been in such a deep rut I didn’t even realize that stepping out of it now and then might actually be a good thing.”

  “That’s the attitude.”

  “Of course, we’re really out of the rut now, aren’t we? I couldn’t read that last sign. How many more miles to Bozeman?”

  “Just hit city limits,” Nat replied, easing off the gas and letting the truck slow to the reduced speed limit. “We’re good with gas. Want to stop for something to eat?”

  “I stocked up on some trail mix and candies at that last gas station. Unless you want a break from driving?”

  Frown lines crea
sed Nat’s forehead. Was he tired? If so, he didn’t let on. “Let’s push through.”

  Mattie shared her snacks with him, and forty minutes later they were approaching Livingston. She thought longingly of Sage’s Chocolate Shop in nearby Marietta. But if she suggested a stop, she and Sage would start chatting and they’d lose precious daylight hours.

  “We’re less than an hour from The Circle C.” She peered past Nat, out his window. The clouds had lifted a little and snow was falling in lazy flakes now instead of driving ice pellets. She could just make out the distant peak of Copper Mountain, one of Marietta’s key landmarks.

  In the other direction lay the road that cut through Paradise Valley. She imagined Callan and her father holed up in the house, impatiently waiting for the storm to break so they could go about their usual routine. It never ceased to amaze her that their youngest sister had chosen to stay at the Circle C with their father. How could she take being around all that negative energy on a full-time basis?

  Mattie sometimes wondered if she would have married Wes so quickly if she’d had a happier home life.

  “Want to stop in and visit? Stay the night, then carry on to Billings in the morning?” Nat suggested.

  “No.” She’d never sleep. Not when she was this close. Her palms were beginning to sweat as she imagined finally facing down Wes. He had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

  * * *

  As the weather improved, they were able to make better time, and they pulled onto the access road that led to Peter and Marg’s acreage at quarter to seven. Nat stopped his truck on a rise, from which vantage point they could see the Wilkinson’s sprawling, ranch-style home, a huge detached garage, and what seemed to be a small guest cottage.

  Two vehicles, a truck and a mid-sized SUV were parked outside of the Wilkinson’s home. Neither one of them belonged to Wes.

  “I wonder what they keep in the garage,” Nat said.

  “An RV. And a boat.”

  “Do they have any livestock?”

  “Nope. They both work at Peter’s family’s lumberyard. Peter’s a manager and Marg does the accounting. A long time ago Peter had a few horses, but when he quit the rodeo—probably ten years ago now—those were sold.”

  “Well. Should we go knock on the front door?”

  “I’m not sure. At one time Wes said he was staying at their guest cottage. But I don’t see his truck.” She felt nervous, almost scared. But that wasn’t her reason for hesitating. She didn’t want the Wilkinson’s warning Wes and giving him yet one more chance to avoid her.

  “Let’s just pull in on this side road and sit for bit.” Nat had spied a small turn-off that once must have been used as access to a field. There were lots of trees on either side, that would block their truck from view of the lane and house while they pondered their next move.

  Once the truck was tucked out of sight, Nat switched off the headlights.

  “Wes might not be staying here anymore.” Mattie tried to think through the possibilities. Having arrived in the early evening of a Monday, she’d fully expected to see Wes’s truck here.

  “Or maybe he sold his truck and bought one of those two vehicles we saw?”

  “That could be.” After all, he’d changed out his phone.

  “Whatever the answer is, we have to go talk to these people,” Nat said. “We don’t have any other leads.”

  She was about to agree with his plan, when lights flashed on the road in front of them, a few seconds later, Wes’s truck bumped past them on the gravel road.

  “That was him, right?” Nat checked with her for confirmation.

  “Looked like his truck,” Mattie agreed. But there’d been two people in the cab, not just one.

  “Drive up behind him, Nat.” Even as she said the words, Nat was putting his truck back into gear. Slowly he turned onto the lane and followed the other vehicle as it coasted past the main house, then stopped by the smaller one.

  Mattie felt her throat tighten and her stomach clench as her husband got out from the driver’s seat. Their headlights shone straight into his face when he tried to look at them. He brought his arm up to try and shield the light.

  And then, from the other side of the cab, a woman descended, a bag of groceries in one hand, her purse in the other. She turned to stare at their truck, eyes squinting into the lights, and giving them a full look at her. She was tall, pretty, with long, wavy dark hair.

  And kind of familiar looking.

  Five seconds later Mattie realized why. This was Dex Cooper’s widow.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Talk to me, Mattie.” Nat had been afraid another woman might be in the picture. He’d debated trying to prepare Mattie for the possibility. But he hadn’t had the heart.

  She was staring out the windshield, as still as if she’d been turned to ice. Her breathing so quiet, she might not be doing any.

  He put a hand on her shoulder. And squeezed. “Are you okay?”

  With a whoosh of air, she exhaled. And turned to him. “That woman? She’s Dex Cooper’s wife. He was a bull rider, killed on the circuit in Texas last spring. I met him and his wife a few times. He and Wes were friends...”

  Her mind turned over the fact that her husband now seemed to be pretty good friends with Dex’s widow. In fact, it looked like they were shacked up here together, if the one vehicle and those groceries were anything to go by.

  A tap at the driver’s side window interrupted her thoughts.

  Nat unrolled the window and Wes stooped so he could see inside.

  “Nat Diamond?—” He leaned a little further so he could see the passenger side. “Jesus—Mattie? What the hell is going on here?”

  “Your wife wanted a few words, so I offered to drive her out here.” Nat’s voice was calm, but not friendly. Not even close to friendly. “Step back, Wes, so I can open my door.”

  Mattie got out of the truck, too. Her legs shook a little as she walked around to the front. Dex’s wife—she wished she could remember her name—was watching her, but didn’t move any closer.

  “Are you crazy, driving in this weather?” Wes had removed his hat. Now he was combing through his dark hair with his free hand, as if there was an itch somewhere that he couldn’t calm. He looked good. He was wearing a new sheepskin jacket that fit him well. And his hair looked like it had finally been cut by someone who knew what they were doing.

  She knew he wouldn’t be noticing any improvements in her appearance.

  “If I’m crazy, it’s because of you,” Mattie said. “All I want is a little honesty, Wes. After nineteen years you’d think I deserved that much, at least.” Her gaze drifted to the other woman and a name suddenly popped into her head. Suzanne.

  “Hey, Suzanne.” Mattie changed course, moved away from the men and headed for the woman. Suzanne was wearing fashion boots and skinny jeans, and a double breasted black jacket with a coordinating scarf looped around her neck. “Have to admit—I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Hi Mattie.” As soon as she spoke, Mattie recognized her voice. Suzanne glanced from Mattie, to Wes, then to her bag of groceries. “I should get these in the fridge.”

  She all but turned and ran inside, at which point Nat said, “So Wes. Going to invite us in?”

  Wes glowered and Mattie half expected him to tell them to hit the road.

  If he had, she didn’t know what she would have done. Maybe started beating his chest with her fists?

  But then Wes capitulated and led the way to the front door. Inside was a cozy kitchen and sitting area. Two doors on the far wall were open just enough for Mattie to see a bedroom and a bathroom. “Isn’t this sweet,” she said.

  Suzanne pushed the entire bag of groceries into the half-sized fridge, then ran to the bedroom, without a word to anyone.

  The sound of the slamming door reverberated for several seconds.

  All three of them were left standing in the kitchen. Wes’s arms were folded over his chest, while Nat glared down at him, t
aking advantage of his extra four inches of height.

  “So how long, Wes?” Mattie could hear the anger vibrating in each of her calmly spoken words. Never in her life had she felt this furious. She wanted to hurl her fists at Wes’s chest, then shriek at Suzanne and kick her out of the house.

  “What?” Wes went to the fridge and pulled out three beers. He set two on the table, some sort of invitation, Mattie supposed, though he didn’t say anything. He twisted off the cap of the third and took a long drink.

  “How long have you and Suzanne been... together?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “We’re still married. We haven’t even been legally separated. So, yes. It matters.”

  “Okay, so if I say, like, forty-two days that’s going to make you feel better than if I say fifty-nine?”

  “Stop it.” Nat brought a hand up to his face, in a gesture that betrayed how tired he was feeling. “Mattie’s had a long day. Do you suppose you could cut the bullshit Wes and be straight with her?”

  “What the hell are you doing here, anyway?” Wes’s voice was contemptuous. “You always were a little quick to step in and be the hero when I was out of town.”

  “You’re not just out of town now, though, are you?” No mistaking the anger in Nat’s tone. “You’ve moved out on Mattie. You’re having an affair with another woman. And you’re selling communal property without a word of consultation. So don’t blame me for being Mattie’s friend.”

  “Friend. Is that all?”

  Both men looked on the verge of throwing punches, so Mattie had no choice but to move between them. “Nat, would you wait for me in the truck, please. This won’t take long.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded.

  “I hear any trouble. I’m coming back in.”

  “Okay.” She waited until he’d left and closed the door before she turned to face Wes. She didn’t say anything, just studied his eyes, tried to see in them and past them, to his very heart and soul. It was something she’d been longing to do for a very long time. Hearing his voice on the phone wasn’t enough. It didn’t feel real. This did, though.