Free Montana Homecoming by Jillian Hart

Brooke’s voice broke the silence between them that had settled into the house once they’d returned. He wanted to attribute it to the long day and the fact they had a daunting task ahead of them, but he wasn’t sure. She’d been quiet before they left the park.
    After they met Roger and his wife.
    He glanced at the mantel clock, put down the instruction sheet and stood, his back protesting. “It’s nearly nine. We got a lot done in the past two hours. You were phenomenal.”
    “Not so much. The cleanup looked worse than it really was.” She didn’t meet his gaze as she stowed the broom in the entry closet. “Poor Oscar. He must have been so upset worrying you wouldn’t come back.”
    “He’s worn himself out. Look.” The dog snoozed on his bed in the corner, legs sticking straight out, snoring like a truck downshifting on the freeway. “The more I think about that day care idea, the more I like it.”
    “We’ll try to work on his anxiety again next time. If you want.” All business, she tugged the bag of dog treats from her purse and left them on the coffee table. Eyes down, polite, distant.
    “Sounds good. You made a real difference today. Thanks. Plus, Oscar has taken a liking to you.”
    “I’m not falling for that. Oscar adores everyone.” A hint of a smile touched her lips but she still didn’t look up. Keys in hand, she faced the door. “Looks like you got the kennel figured out?”
    “Yep, it’s all in one piece. I have faults but I’m great at following directions.” Another quip, but she didn’t smile. She didn’t banter back. She just slipped her purse strap higher on her shoulder. Her attention arrowed to the door, once again like the serious woman he’d first spotted in Lil’s yard.
    He remembered Tasha Brown rushing her in the corridor. He didn’t know what that was about, but it probably had something to do with when Brianna was in the hospital over in Seattle. Brooke lived in Seattle. He had no idea what all had gone on there because he’d been out of the country. But it struck him now that she’d asked a few questions about his job after meeting Roger.
    “I’ll walk you out.” Tension tugged tight in his chest, growing worse with every step. A war waged inside him—to keep his distance versus the unexplainable hold she had on him. He cared about her. He couldn’t help it. Truth was, she was a hazard to him. Her gentleness, her quirky humor and now the quiet pull of her spirit got to him.
    Even when he’d sworn no woman ever would.
    The brass doorknob felt cool against his palm as he gave it a twist. Lukewarm night air washed over him as he held the door open for her. When she whispered past, a gust of wind carried her vanilla scent. A few strands of her long hair brushed against his jaw.
    Caring rolled through him with such force he had to brace his feet and steel his spine not to give in to it. A hazard? The woman was a live minefield. He tripped down the steps after her, reeling. A smart man would say good-night and retreat into the house while he could, but was he a smart man?
    Well, that had always been in debate. He trailed after her down the shadowed walkway, unable to take his focus away from the lithe silhouette she made.
    “You didn’t know I was a reporter, did you?” His question made her turn around in the darkest part of the yard. He couldn’t see her but he didn’t need to. He felt her gaze on him and heard the intake of her gasp.
    “No, I didn’t. No one thought to inform me. Even you.” No accusation in her soft tone. Steady, solid, unemotional, as if she’d already retreated too far to come back.
    Maybe he should be glad for that. Maybe he should be shouting out a cheer, jumping up and down in relief because the bid to keep her from affecting him just got easier. But he couldn’t let it go. She might not admit it and she refused to show it, but she was hurting.
    He hated that.
    “I thought you knew. It’s a lame excuse, I know. I shouldn’t