Read Online Sleepless in Montana by Cait London - Free Book Online

ago by a terrified little
boy who had been living in the streets; the boy had thought Mitch
wanted more than to comfort. The couple who took the boy knew how
to handle him; he’d be safe. “Watch it.”
    “I thought old Ben would faint when he saw
Carley’s spiked orange hair. But he didn’t. He just said, ‘Fix it,’
and walked out the door.”
    Aaron hefted his brew, toasting Jemma’s
escapades. “Remember that time she wanted to be a chef? And if she
starts on that ‘relate and express your feelings’ psychology
crap—”
    Mitch lifted his glass. “To Jemma. Aren’t we
glad she’s adopted our family? Aren’t we all just looking forward
to her schemes to bring us closer together? To make us better men?
To make us hug? Come on, men, let’s do a group hug.”
    “Sorry, but if I’m going to be hugging, it’s
going to be a woman. I’ll be damned if I’ll take up knitting as
therapy, and I’m not into visualizing flowers in fields and
harmony. They should bar booksellers from selling any self-help
books to her— everyone suffers,” Aaron muttered.
    The brothers groaned in unison and unspoken
memories filled the silence. They’d called each other through the
years, but building lives and careers had taken time. Now they had
Carley to protect.
    Mitch studied Aaron and Hogan. “I’ve been
working with street kids. Hugs can do miracles— if they’re not too
terrified that you’re out to hurt them.”
    “Sissy,” Aaron sneered.
    Hogan’s thoughts ranged outside his brother’s
conversation. In his arms, Jemma had felt like a fragile little
shaking bird. He resented how he had tilted his head just so to
feel that untamed river of fiery silk on his skin, catching Jemma’s
scent— elusive, exotic and far more beckoning than expensive
fragrances. Damn her.
    “Have you seen the old man, Hogan? I came
back about three years ago and he wasn’t pleasant. I caught hell
about being a city-sissy when I didn’t want to shovel manure.”
Aaron didn’t want to show how anxious he was about returning to the
old house.
    Hogan shook his head. He wasn’t looking
forward to seeing Ben so soon, either. He’d wanted to wait and
think. He’d been too busy remodeling the house to include a studio
and office, transferring his business equipment to the ranch— to
script the head-on meeting, that first dialogue. Or harden the
shields of his heart.
    “I’ve been back, last spring. I needed to see
the fields and the new calves in them, replenishing life, spring in
Montana where the air wasn’t gray with exhaust. I meant to send a
note to you both, but forgot,” Mitch said.
    He studied the amber shade of his brew and
added, “Dropped in on Ben because I missed his sweet temperament.
He gave me a life, and I respect him, because I know what could
have happened to me if he hadn’t. He’s rawhide rough as
always.”
    He looked at Hogan. “You’re like him, Hogan,
in more ways than one. Arrogant, keeping to yourself, and hard
clear through. Old Ben went to bat for me, pulled legal strings,
and I hated his guts.”
    Mitch’s gaze returned to his brew. “Old
Aaron’s portrait still hangs over the fireplace with old Jubal’s
sprawling horns and that old bear-stopper buffalo gun. Dad says
that Jubal was the first Kodiak Texas longhorn bull that made the
Bar K.... But the place is run-down. He and old Joe Blue Sky can’t
manage. We’ll be working our butts off.”
    Aaron shot a sharp look at him. “Run-down?
Kodiak ranch? Twelve thousand acres and six hundred baldies? How’s
that possible?”
    Mitch nodded grimly. “Twelve thousand minus
the two-hundred acres that Hogan just bought. The old man probably
knew that the family wouldn’t stay in boring old rural Montana.
Carley and Jemma didn’t want to ask us for help, because Ben
wouldn’t have it. But we’re here now, and he’s low on cash. He’ll
lose the place if he doesn’t get help.”
    “He won’t ask for it.” Hogan hated that
tenderness for Ben,