Page 1 of Lonesome Moon

GRANT AND LUCI

1

GRANT

December 1

Arrivals & Christmas Tree Lighting

Cold · flat gray · first dusting expected overnight

Supper: Standing rib roast

I’d been in love with my best friend’s sister for three years. I’d gotten pretty good at acting like a man who wasn’t. But I’d never had to do it for thirty-one days in a row.

We were all gathering at Crescent Moon Ranch for Jack and Ivy’s Christmas Eve wedding. There would be other people around, plenty to do. I had my own cabin. Surely I could manage to be happy for my best friend without making myself miserable over his sister.

Outside the Bozeman airport, snow blew under my collar as I searched for the car that would take me out to Crescent Moon Ranch. I’d left Tennessee wearing a jacket that had seemed warm enough in my driveway but now proved to be entirely inadequate.

I spotted a man holding a sign that said Grant. Just Grant, as requested. Being Jack Wilder’s drummer brought more attention than I knew what to do with, particularly from women who seemed to mistake my inability to answer them for some kind of charm. Before we hit the big time, I hadn’t understood what it felt like to be hunted for all the wrong reasons. It gave me special insight into what women must experience.

“Grant?” the driver asked as I approached.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for being here on time. It’s cold here.”

“That it is. I’m Jerry.” He gestured toward a black town car with the trunk open. “Let me get your bag.”

I’d expected a truck.

“Thank you, I can do it myself.” I said. “I packed enough for a month, which means this thing barely made the weight limit. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself on my account.”

“This is Montana, Mr. Walker. We don’t get hurt lifting a suitcase.” Jerry reached for it, but I got there first, lifting the suitcase into the car and easing it down beside an even larger one. Had the ranch sent the car for more than one guest?

“All set,” I said. “Thank you again.”

“Suit yourself,” Jerry said under his breath.

Great. I’d been here two minutes and already offended a local.

I opened the back door, looking forward to an hour in which nobody needed me to say anything.

“Hi, Grant.”

Luci Wilder sat on the far side of the back seat. Her blonde hair fell over the collar of her coat, fawn colored eyes searching my face as if she couldn’t quite believe it was me. That full, very kissable mouth curved into one of her beautiful smiles. “Surprise. I hope you don’t mind I’m hitching a ride.”

“Hey, Luci. No problem.”

I stayed where I was, one hand on the door, staring at her.

“Are you getting in?” Luci asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m just surprised. I didn’t expect you.”

“Jack suggested it, since we were getting in at the same time. I hope you don’t mind?”

Was that a hint of hurt in her voice? Not that I would blame her. I hadn’t exactly handled things well.

“Not at all. Good to see you.” I ducked into the car and folded my six-foot-two frame into the space beside her, keeping one shoulder angled forward so I wouldn’t crowd her, my knees pressed against the back of Jerry’s seat.