Home for Good

By Terri Reed

Follow her dream…

After making a deathbed promise to her father, Joelle Winslow is ready to seize the NYC business opportunity to take her jewelry designs global. All she needs to do is cash out her inherited half of the family ranch in Montana—which means convincing her childhood rival, and now co-heir, to sell or buy her out. Sparks fly when Matt, no longer a gangly, solemn teenager, but a tall, handsome cowboy with work-hewn muscles, is unwilling to give up on the legacy he’s worked so hard to keep without a fight. And part of his bargain includes Joelle staying at the ranch with him through Homecoming Weekend.

The son her father never had…

The Winslow ranch rescued Matt Locke from a life in the foster-care system. As an orphan boy adopted by Clark Winslow and groomed to take over the ranch, he wants nothing more than to marry, raise a family, and continue the legacy of the man who became a father to him after his parents’ tragic deaths. Matt can’t imagine a life anywhere else, and he definitely can’t afford to buy Joelle out. Can he convince the dark haired beauty to not walk out on him and her home a second time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tule Publishing
• Release date: Oct 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781942240013

Terri Reed

Award winning, multipublished author Terri Reed writes heart-warming romance and heart-pounding suspense. Her books have appeared on Publisher's Weekly top ten, Nielsen's Bookscan top fifty, Amazon Bestseller and featured in USA Today.  You can visit her online at www.terrireed.com or email her at [e-mail] 

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Dedication

Writing is never done in a vacuum. Thank you to Jane Porter for asking me to write a story for Montana Born Books. I enjoyed stepping into your world. Thank you to Leah Vale for all your input and advice. And a big thank you to the whole Tule Team for your hard work and support.

Dear Reader

Dear reader,

When I was asked if I wanted to write a story set in the fictional town of Marietta Montana I couldn’t resist. I fell in love with the town and the community, both real and fictional.

I hope you enjoyed Joelle and Matt’s journey as they realized that what they were longing for was right in front of them.

You can learn more about me and my books at www.terrireed.com.

All my best,

Terri Reed

Prologue

The doors to Marietta Hospital swooshed open, the sound mimicking Joelle Winslow’s panicked exhale. She hesitated on the threshold, the warm sun of a Montana spring at her back. She was too scared to walk forward and too afraid not to. Somewhere inside the walls of this large brick and mortar building lay her father.

A heart attack, she’d been told. One he’d ignored until he’d collapsed. So like him to not seek help.

From the moment she’d received the call, an invisible hand had clamped around her throat. The choking sensation worsened with each mile that brought her closer to home.

She prayed for strength and stepped inside the hospital. Chilled, air-conditioned air prickled her skin. The sedate, hushed voices of those moving through the lobby created an eerie, almost surreal atmosphere. After the harried pace of New York City, her home for the past seven years, the foreign peacefulness made her feel out of place.

But then again, she’d always felt out of place in Montana. At least the second time she came to live in the state.

At the nurses station, she asked for her father’s room and was given directions to the cardiac care unit. Not a fan of enclosed spaces, she bypassed the elevator and took the stairs. She easily found her father’s room. For a long second she stared at the white, unremarkable door, bracing herself for what waited on the other side. Would he live? Would he be happy to see her?

She hoped and prayed so.

She knocked lightly before turning the knob and stepping into the room. The beeping of monitors hooked to her father echoed in her head. Her heart constricted, setting off a throbbing pain that radiated outward, making her shake. He lay propped on the bed, his handsome face gaunt. His eyes were closed and she was grateful to have a moment to collect herself as the reality of his condition stole her breath and tears burned her eyes.

She would not cry. He would not like that. Crying was a sign of weakness. She would not be weak. Not in front of him. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, forcing back the tears.

Once she had herself under control, she took a shuddering breath and moved to the side of the bed where a chair had been pulled up, most likely so that Ava, Dad’s housekeeper, or Matt could sit with him. She was grateful neither was here now. She wanted this time alone with her dad.

She sat and gathered her father’s hand in hers, careful of the IV protruding from the blue vein on the backside of his rough and weathered hand.

Not sure whether he could hear her, she spoke softly, Please, don’t die. I love you, Dad. I wish you knew that. Why was it so easy to say those words with him unconscious?

There was no response, just the beeping of the monitors gauging his heart rate and his breathing. She watched the little squiggly lines of the monitor, mesmerized by the pattern as it began to change, the rhythm increasing along with the beeping of the monitor. Concern flooded her. What was happening?

Joe?

Startled, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her gaze yanked from the monitor to her father to find his gray, unfocused gaze on her.

I’m here, Dad. She gave him her bravest smile.

You came.

She hated the stunned note in his tone. Did he really think so little of her? Yes. As soon as I heard. I’m going to stay until you’re better. You are going to get better. He had to get better.

Follow your dream, his voice came out hoarse and weak, nothing like the strong, bold and larger-than-life man she knew.

What? She leaned closer unsure she heard him correctly. He’d never said anything like that to her before.

Promise me. His fingers curled over hers, his grip surprisingly strong. A good sign, she hoped. Promise me, you’ll follow your dream.

Of course, Dad. I am. Emotion clogged her throat, increasing the choking sensation. She sucked in a breath, fighting for oxygen. She wanted to tell him about her life, her work. About the things she’d accomplished. There was so much she wanted to say yet the words were held captive inside, as they always were when it came to him.

He licked his lips. Water. She spied a pitcher on the counter. She moved to pour him a glass and held it to his lips. He drank then turned his head away from her. Where’s Matt?

She stiffened. I don’t know.

Go find him. His eyes closed. I need him.

A fist of pain slammed into her chest. Of course he did. It was always Matt he needed. Never her, his own flesh and blood.

And once again she was being sent away. Why did that hurt so deeply? She should be used to it by now.

On wooden legs, she left the room to do his bidding and headed to the nurses station at the end of the hall, confident they would know how to reach Matt.

Before she reached her destination, the elevator doors opened and a tall, dark-haired man stepped out.

She froze, struck by the sheer beauty of the man Matt Locke had become. Dressed in jeans and a plaid work shirt, he exuded a rough and tough masculinity that had her female senses jumping to alert mode. She stepped back as if putting more distance between them would temper her involuntary reaction.

His dark eyes widened a fraction before his features settled into wary welcome.

The sudden, loud shrill of an alarm coming from her father’s room pulsed through her in shocking waves. Doctors and nurses rushed into the room.

Matt barely spared her a glance as he brushed past her and followed the doctors. She hurried after him, stopping in the doorway. A crushing weight settled on her chest as she watched the doctors work to save her father from crashing.

Were heart attacks contagious? She put a hand over her aching heart.

The heart monitor attached to her father’s chest screamed with one long static beep until someone flipped off the switch. The silence descended, deafening in its completeness.

The doctor called her father’s time of death.

An all-consuming, soul-deep sorrow gripped Joelle.

She sank to her knees and cried.

Chapter One

Six Months Later

Coming home to say goodbye.

Joelle Winslow halted inside the big red barn that housed her late father’s prized thoroughbred horses and let her eyes adjust to the dim interior. High wood beams stretched the length of a football field. Bridles hung from hooks at each metal stall door where thousands of dollars of horseflesh munched away oblivious to the turmoil about to be thrust into their lives. Her life.

A frosty breeze coming in from the pasture brought the hint of winter. In a few short weeks, the crisp, dry fall Montana air would give way to piles of snow and drive the inhabitants of Marietta inside. But not today.

On this late September morning, Joelle intended to spend a few moments alone with her horse and her memories one last time before returning to the life she’d made for herself in New York City. If the day went as she planned, she’d be heading back to her apartment on the Upper Westside by nightfall.

Awareness shimmied up her spine. She wasn’t alone. She spun around, her gaze landing on the man emerging from the shadows. Matthew Locke.

Her heart hiccupped. She hadn’t seen him since the funeral last spring. Even through her fog of grief, she’d noticed how handsome he’d become over the years, from cute teenager to grown man. That day he’d worn a tailored navy suit that had emphasized the width of his shoulders. She’d been surprised by his attire since she’d never seen him wear anything but ranch clothes, like he had on today.

His jeans fit snuggly on his long, lean legs and his wide shoulders filled out the navy flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled forearms, liberally covered with dark hair. Her gaze lifted, bypassing his eyes, not ready to see his disapproval, to the well-worn cowboy hat on his head and the tuffs of dark hair peeking out from beneath. She’d always thought he had great hair.

The corner of his mouth twitched, drawing her attention to the hard set of his jaw, emphasizing the unyielding angles and planes of his face. Her heart thumped in her chest, but she ignored the jolt of attraction. This was not the time or the place. Never would be. Not with him.

Her father’s pet project.

Her childhood nemesis.

Okay, that probably wasn’t a fair moniker. Matt had never done anything overtly mean to her.

Only crushed her tender heart with what he’d said in confidence to his friend, RJ, that summer day long ago. Matt hadn’t known she was hiding in the hayloft.

His words had cut her deeply, to the marrow of her being. Even now, in the very place where her world had shifted, the echo of his words rubbed at the raw wound, threatening to reduce her to a quivering mass of hurt.

But none of that mattered now. Or wouldn’t soon.

Once she accomplished the task that had brought her back to Montana, she’d be done with the past. She had a promise to fulfill. A nervous flutter hit her tummy. Matt would not like what she’d come here to do, but she couldn’t let him derail her plans. Her father had rarely asked anything of her. He hadn’t needed to. He’d had Matt.

But she’d given her father her word, made him a promise and to honor her father’s last request hinged on accomplishing today’s goal, despite the turmoil she knew it would cause.

Self-consciously, she dragged a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She hadn’t taken the time this morning to do more than dress in jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt, her old barn coat and worn boots. She’d barely brushed her hair before throwing the tangled mass into a rubber band at her nape after brushing her teeth. At least her breath would smell minty.

She smiled. Hello, Matt.

We weren’t expecting you. Matt’s smooth voice rubbed at the edges of her frayed nerves.

And just like that the old hurt surfaced, making her back teeth grind together with irritation. What? I’m not welcome? I do own half the estate.

Her father, bless his soul, left equal shares of the ranch to his only child—Joelle, and to Matt. Even in death her father had made it clear he thought of Matt as the son he had always wanted. Her father hadn’t known what to do with a girl.

She scuffed the toe of her riding boot into the dirt, wishing she could scrape away the hurt flooding through her as easily.

Of course you’re welcome here. This is your home. Matt’s placating tone inched her annoyance up a notch. I only meant that I would have driven to Bozeman and picked you up at the airport.

She bit the inside of her lip. When would she learn to control her response, not to mention her tongue? Matt always brought out her claws. Contrite at her jab, she softened her voice. It was late. I didn’t want to bother anyone. I rented a car.

She’d also wanted a way to quickly and easily escape back to New York without having to rely on anyone else. Once she told Matt why she’d returned and what she wanted, he’d probably chase her off the ranch with a pitchfork.

Ava will be happy to see you.

Affection for her father’s housekeeper and cook filled Joelle. Ava had stepped in to be a surrogate grandmother to both Joelle and Matt. She’d been devastated when daddy passed. They all had been. She stayed on after Daddy’s death?

Of course she stayed on. As well as Chuck, Randy and Mick.

The hands who had been with the Winslow Estate before she was born.

Guilt for not keeping in contact with those at the ranch pricked her. Her gaze slid away from Matt to stare out the weathered barn doors. The grassy meadow layered in shades of gold glistened with dew in the morning sun. Her decision would affect not only her and Matt, but also everyone who worked on the ranch.

But what choice did she have? She had a promise to keep.

In the horizon, Copper Mountain stood sentinel in all its majestic glory over Paradise Valley.

From the stall to her right Star snickered. The pungent odor of hay crunching beneath his impatient hooves assaulted her senses. The horse could sense her mood. They’d always been in tune to each other. She missed him so much. She wished she could take him with her but the city was no