Montana Dreaming: Their Unexpected Family / Cabin Fever / Million-Dollar Makeover

He shook his head. “I don’t have anything pressing to do.”

“That’s not true,” she countered. “You’ve got a news article to write.”

“The story, as I’ve told you before, is a joke. And the article can practically write itself.”

“So, what’s the verdict,” Dr. Hart asked. “Do I sign these release papers or not?”

Mark crossed his arms. “Sign them.”

“All right,” the doctor said. “I’ll have the paperwork processed. Then I’ll send an orderly to take you out in a wheelchair.”

When Dr. Hart left the room, Mark ran a hand through his hair. Juliet’s back might feel much better this morning, but his hurt like hell.

What he really needed to do was get out of here, shower and maybe take a nap.

He glanced at Juliet and saw reluctance in her expression. Resentment, too? He wasn’t sure. But she’d been overruled, and he had a feeling it didn’t sit well.

Strangely, for a guy who liked to come out on top himself, he wasn’t feeling too happy about winning this argument.

And he hoped to hell he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew.

Thirty minutes later, Mark brought his rental car to the curb at the main entrance of the hospital. Then he helped Juliet into the passenger seat.

He was taking her home. And that fact brought on a flurry of other concerns, things he hadn’t considered when he’d volunteered to look after her.

There was no way around it. He would have to put in a significant amount of time with her. He’d told the doctor he’d take care of her, not pop in and out several times a day.

What if something went wrong in the middle of the night?

He’d have to stay there until she was no longer at risk for premature labor.

But how big was her place?

Where would he sleep?

On the sofa, he supposed.

The crick in his back, the one he’d woken up with, ached all the more, just thinking about being camped on her sofa for the next week or so. Damn. He was going to have to see a chiropractor when this stint in Thunder Canyon was over.

As they drove past the newly constructed Ranch View Estates, Juliet peered out the window, studying the pine tree-lined entrance, the bright, colorful flags and a sign announcing that Phase I was now available.

“That’s a nice housing development,” she said. “One afternoon, on my day off, I looked at the models.”

Mark nodded, but didn’t comment. He didn’t have any inclination to set down roots, to purchase a home and landscape a yard. Especially not in Thunder Canyon.

At thirty-eight, he’d yet to buy a place of his own. And why should he? He was always off on assignment, living in hotels that the news service paid for.

He turned left onto Main and followed it until they neared The Hitching Post.

“Can you drive around to the rear entrance?” Juliet asked. “I don’t feel like going through the dining room looking like this.”

“Sure.” He didn’t think she looked bad at all, not after what she’d been through. But he didn’t argue. He swung around to the back, where a black Chevy S-10 pickup with a vinyl cover on the bed was parked next to a trash bin.

Mark nodded toward the custom truck with a lowered chassis. “Whose is that?”

“It’s mine.”

“You drive a pickup?” He chuckled. The lady was full of surprises. “Somehow, I figured you would drive a racy red sports car or a flashy white convertible.”

“Hey, that little truck is special to me. It was my brother’s pride and joy.”

Was?

She’d told him the baby was her only family.

Unable to quell his curiosity, he asked, “What happened to him?”

“He died about eighteen months ago, and since he’d listed me on the title, I inherited his truck.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark said, the words feeling inadequate but necessary.

“I’m sorry, too.”

A heavy silence filled the interior of the car, and Mark wanted it to end, wanted to lighten the mood. To make her feel better. But it was hard to know what to say to someone who’d lost a loved one. He knew how impotent sympathetic words could be. No one had been able to ease his grief after his sister died. Not when her death had been his fault.

His parents had never forgiven him for what had happened that stormy evening. But he supposed that was to be expected. He’d never forgiven himself, either.

“It’s tough not having a family,” Juliet said, breaking the stifling stillness that had nearly choked the air out of the sedan. “But I focus on the memories we had. It’s what Father Tomas, our parish priest, advised me to do. And it helps.”

Mark was glad she had memories to rely on. He didn’t. At least not the kind that made him feel better. In a way, he’d lost his entire family, too, even though his parents were still alive and kicking.

When his mom had learned he was in town, she’d called him at the Wander-On Inn. She’d sounded hurt that he hadn’t chosen to stay at the motel she and his dad had owned and operated for the past twenty-five years.

Mark had told her it was because the company had prepaid his room without knowing his family could provide him free lodging. But to be honest, Mark had been very specific with the company’s travel agent when they’d talked about where he wanted to stay—anywhere but The Big Sky Motel at the edge of town.

After parking beside Juliet’s pickup, he spotted the stairway that led to the second floor.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that The Hitching Post didn’t have an elevator, not when the county land office was just beginning to convert their records to a computer system. He bit back a swear word, but couldn’t stop the grumble that slipped out.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I’m going to have to get you upstairs.”

She opened her mouth, as if to object, then closed it again. Apparently, the recent bout of premature labor had made her realize how vulnerable she was.

He slid out of the driver’s seat, circled the car and opened her door, intent upon carrying her.

She put her hand up to stop him. “Maybe if I take the steps really slow—”