Her heart thudded in her chest. Another one of those giddy waves of joy passed through her, even as the lump in her throat returned. The Cowboy! Sheâd wished for him and he was here, so soon after sheâd made her personal vow that she could hardly believe he was real.
Yet there he was, a man sheâd never seen before, holding the bridle and calming the lead horse. The Cowboyâher cowboyâwas the most physically appealing man sheâd ever seen. Tall, dark and handsome barely began to describe him, inadequate to cover the physical confidence he possessed, that aura of calm and control about him as he talked with the other men and kept the horse calm at the same time.
Who are you?
He looked right at her, as if heâd heard her ask the question. Right at her. Over the nose of the white horse, across the dozen people who milled between them, their gazes met and held.
Across the crowd, they shared a slow smile. If it was true that like attracted like, then she and this man sure were alike. When people said âtwo peas in a podâ to Kristen, they were invariably referring to her twin, but on this special summer day, Kristen knew that she and this man were a match, too. That smile said it all.
* * *
Montana Mavericks: What Happened At The Wedding? A weekend Rust Creek Falls will never forget!
Chapter One
Fourth of July
âDo you see them?â
Kristen Dalton shaded her eyes with one hand as she looked up the road, but she couldnât see any hint of a horse-drawn carriage. âSorry, sis. No sign of the bride and groom yet.â
âI canât wait to see her wedding dress. The rumors have been all over the place. Iâve heard everything from country casual to Kardashian craziness.â
Anything could be true. Although Kristen and her sister lived in a small town surrounded by ranches, technology made the world itself a small place. Even to the far northern edge of Montana, a gown from glittering Hollywood could be shipped overnight. Since the wedding dress possibilities were endless, the speculation around town had been, as well. For weeks, Kristen had been patiently listening to her twin, Kayla, list the pros and cons of every type of gown. Although today was the Fourth of July, her twinâs excitement was closer to that of a kid on Christmas morning.
Kristen handed her sister her paper cup, then hopped up to perch on the top log of the split-rail fence that bordered the town park. She held out her hands for her cup and Kaylaâs. âCome sit with me. It could be a while. That photographer has to take pictures of a million Traub family members at the church.â
Kayla climbed up to sit beside her on the railing, settling in for the wait. âWhat a beautiful day for their wedding.â
Kristen thought it was a little too warm, nearly eighty degrees, which was as hot as things got this close to Glacier National Park. As she handed back Kaylaâs cup, Kristen took a healthy drink of her ice-cold wedding punch.
Thank goodness theyâd decided to wear sundresses. They didnât match, of course. She and Kayla looked as identical as two peas in a pod, a phrase Kristen had been hearing for as long as she could remember, but they hadnât dressed like twins for as long as theyâd been choosing their own clothes. From a distance, she supposed they looked like twins in blue dresses, but up close, they werenât alike at all.
Kaylaâs dress had an all-over print of tiny flowers. Her spaghetti straps were delicate, and she wore their grandmotherâs earrings. The shiny filigree drops were shown to their advantage on Kayla because she swept her hair up most of the time.
No one would ever see those earrings if Kristen wore them, because her hair was nearly always down. And long. And wavy. Andâokay, Iâll admit it, Momâalways blowing in the Montana breeze and getting tangled. Their mother had despaired of keeping it neat and had given up trying somewhere around kindergarten, when Kristen had become quite adept at removing barrettes and bows.
Kristen could also admit that sheâd deliberately worn blue because it made her eyes appear their bluest. Her denim halter dress always made her feel like she struck the right balance between sweet and sexy. She got smiles from the townâs mavens and mavericks both. Rather than sandals, she wore her western boots. Not the solid, broken-in ones that she wore to do chores around the family ranch, but the ones with the hand-scrolled swirls in the leather. These were the boots she wore for two-stepping, waltzing and square dancing, all of which she hoped to do before, during and after tonightâs fireworks.