Slow Hand (Hot Cowboy Nights, #1)(56)

“For a while. I didn’t have anything pressing. I also had Iris move a few appointments to next week so I can help you settle your father’s estate.”

“Estate?” She laughed. “Is that what they call a pickup truck and travel trailer in Montana? The last I heard that was the sum of his worldly possessions.”

“That so? Well, there may be a bit more than you think,” he answered vaguely.

“What do you mean?”

“While I wish I could, I can’t put this off any longer.” He pressed his hand to the small of her back. “C’mon. Let’s take a drive. There’s something you need to see.”

As they drove north on Highway 287 toward Sheridan, Nikki lost herself again in the majesty of the snowcapped mountains and endless acres of grassy pastures where cattle and horses contentedly grazed. She wondered what it would be like to make a life in such a rugged place. Could she be happy in a place like this? Alone, probably not. But with Wade? That was another question completely.

He’d implied that he’d like her to stay, but how could she even consider ditching her life? Not that there was so very much worth returning to but it was the principle of the thing. They barely knew each other. Maybe it was something the young and stupid Nikki would have done, but she was older and wiser now, right? She tasted the salty tang of blood on her tongue and realized she’d chewed through her lip.

“Are you completely surrounded by mountains here?” she asked, more to distract herself than anything else.

“Yeah,” he replied, “but the winters are surprisingly mild. The Ruby Valley is insulated by seven ranges. That’s the Tobacco Root range.” He pointed to the craggy white peaks to the east.

“Where are we going?” she asked when he turned off the main highway and onto what appeared to be a service road.

“You’ll see soon enough. We’re almost there,” he answered cryptically. “That’s the Ruby River, known for some of the best angling in the country.”

“Angling?”

“Fly fishing,” he explained. “People come to this part of the country from all over the world for our prize sport fishing. The Ruby produces rainbows, cutthroats, and graylings in abundance because access is so limited.”

“Limited? Why’s that?”

“Most of this section of river is privately owned. Like this prime piece right here.”

They continued driving almost parallel to the river, then lost it for a few miles until the road abruptly ended. Wade turned into a private drive, came to a stop, and then killed the engine. He gestured toward the river and mountains. “This tract stretches north for two miles, along the riverbank, then extends just as far in that direction.”

Nikki gazed over the wide expanse of treeless landscape covered with grass that stretched for miles. The beauty touched her. “Is this someone’s farm?” She noted the log cabin and old pickup truck parked out front. “There’s no cattle here. Is it abandoned?”

“You might say that. This place used to be a fishing and hunting retreat, but no one’s using it anymore.”

“Is it yours?” she asked, wondering why they were here and where this was going.

“No. It’s not mine.”

“Then why are we here? Who owns it?”

“You do.”





Chapter 16


“Me?” Nikki gasped. “How? I don’t understand.”

Wade turned to face her, his eyes sober, his expression stern. “Pursuant to the execution of Raymond Powell’s will, you, Nicole Marie Powell, are the sole owner of over twelve hundred prime acres in Madison County, Montana.”

“This was my father’s place?” Nikki was at first stunned, then fury set in. “Damn you, Wade! You knew all this time and said nothing?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know all of it until this morning when I reviewed the will. The property is yours free and clear, by the way. I pulled all the real estate records and checked for liens.”

“You’ve let me fret and worry for days!” she accused. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“I couldn’t. I swear my hands were tied. Legally, you had no claim to any of it until you could prove your identity, and now you have.”

Nikki was still shaking her head in disbelief when Wade came around to open her door. She hopped down from the SUV and Wade followed, retrieving a thick envelope from his breast pocket. He pulled out a bundle of documents from inside. “According to the plat, there’s two full sections here.”

“Sections? What’s a section?”

“In farming communities land is generally parceled in sections and quarter sections. A section is a square mile.”

Nikki stared dumbfounded over the river, the grassland, and the mountains. “You’re saying I own two square miles of this? How on earth did my father come by all this land? He was a heavy equipment mechanic, for goodness’ sake! You are really telling me that he owned this cabin and twelve hundred acres?”

“Yup. According to Evans, who closed the deals, your father fell in love with the fishing here twenty years ago and bought the first quarter section when land was still cheap as dirt. He added to the property over time when his investments started to pay off.”