always looked up to. He sure did hope he could find someone as amazing as Sammy or Oakley, and he took a moment to close his eyes and offer up a simple prayer.
Thank you for showing me what true love is.
Bishop got his quiet solitude that evening. The next day too, as it was the Sabbath, and everyone seemed exhausted from the previous day’s events.
On Monday morning, Bishop had just set the coffee to brew when the doorbell rang. He whipped his attention that way, wondering who in the world would be out this way this early. Arizona hadn’t gotten up yet, and if it was anyone else, they’d have just come in the house.
Bishop wasn’t worried as he padded through the enormous kitchen, under the wide, arched doorway, and into the foyer. He pulled open the door to find a beautiful blonde woman standing there.
His mind said hello, but his voice stayed mute. He could only stare at her, taking her in piece by piece.
Pretty face, with plenty of personality in those vibrant blue eyes. She wore a black jacket over her shirt, which looked to be pink, red, and white plaid. She wore jeans and work boots, but the thing that caught Bishop’s attention the most was the tool belt strapped around her waist.
His mouth turned dry.
She was an angel straight from heaven, crafted just for Bishop Glover.
“Good mornin’,” she drawled, but he could tell instantly she wasn’t from Texas. Doesn’t matter, he thought. It’s a minor negative. Very minor.
He still couldn’t get his voice to work, and the woman slid her eyes down his chest, immediately bringing her gaze back to his. “Uh…I’m Montana Martin, and I’m wondering if you have any need for an extra hand with any construction projects. I have a certification in cabinetry, as well as a decade of experience with one of the biggest builders in San Antonio.”
Bishop nodded, his vocal cords unknotting. Finally. “I could’ve used you three months ago,” he said.
“Oh.” Montana’s face fell. “You’re all caught up now?”
With the cabin remodels, the whole barn renovation, and the Ranch House set to get work done too, Bishop had hired multiple temporary workers to get the jobs done.
“We’re never caught up,” he said, curling his fingers over the top of the door and leaning into the frame. “I’m sure I can find something for you to do.”
And if he couldn’t, he’d invent something. Maybe a new chicken coop needed to be built. No matter what, he needed to keep Montana nearby so he could get to know her better.
Montana’s face burst into a smile, and it dang near made Bishop groan. She was stunning, the morning light streaking toward her across the front porch. When it touched her, she’d light up like a flame, and Bishop really wanted to see that.
“Do you have a minute to talk?” he asked. “I don’t have to be out on the ranch for a bit.”
Montana swallowed and nodded, her fingers tightening around that sexy tool belt. “Do you live alone?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “My sister’s here with me. I’ll get her to come down.” He was a proper gentleman, after all.
Montana relaxed, her hand releasing the tool belt, and she nodded. “Okay. I can stay for a few minutes. Could you, uh, maybe put on a shirt?”
Bishop’s eyes widened. Horrified, he looked down at himself. Sure enough, his torso was bare, and a bomb of heat exploded through his body. Still, he thought he sounded pretty cool when he said, “Sure. C’mon in and help yourself to a cup of coffee while I get dressed.”
Chapter Two
Montana Martin entered the house after the tall, muscled man, realizing she hadn’t gotten his name. She knew where she’d come though, and she knew the Glover family owned Shiloh Ridge. She didn’t know all of their names, or even if they all lived here. She’d come to the first and biggest house on the ranch, assuming she’d get the owner.
She couldn’t believe she’d made it through the front door. None of her other solicitations at other ranches had earned her more than a, “Sorry, we’ve got all the help we need,” and a sympathetic smile.
Everyone in Texas sure was polite, she’d give them that.
She looked around the house, taking in the enormity of it. The ceiling here in the foyer stretched for two stories. The work on the banister leading up the double-wide stairs was custom and hand-made. Montana frowned at it, because she recognized the superior craftsmanship.
“Micah Walker,”