he had no idea how to have a conversation with a teenager about dating, so he hadn’t asked again.
“I was late, cowboy, because you wouldn’t stop kissing me.” her voice dropped to a whisper, and she giggled quietly.
“You liked it,” Bishop said, laughing with her.
“I did like it,” she said. The moment sobered, and Bishop slowed his step. “I really like you, Bishop.”
“I like you too, Montana.” And he did. Oh, he did.
“Anyway, I got home, and I knew she was here, because her backpack was right inside the door. Her shoes. Everything. You never have to guess where she’s been. She leaves a trail of stuff.” Montana’s frustration coated every syllable. “Anyway, in the kitchen, I saw an extra can of soda on the counter, and I was like, who else is here?”
“Mm hm.” Bishop got going again. She’d said all of this in the text. “You went and checked by the front door, and there was another backpack.”
“Yes,” Montana said. “So I called for her, and she didn’t answer. I called her phone, and she didn’t answer. I was going upstairs to her room, seriously praying out loud.”
“She’s smart,” Bishop said. “She wouldn’t take a boy up to her room.”
“Think of yourself at fourteen,” she said. “Girls are just as hormonal as boys.”
“Okay,” Bishop said. “I’m just repeating what you’ve told me. You said she’s smart.”
“She is.”
“Okay, then. Where were they?”
“Thankfully, they weren’t in her bedroom, but I looked out the window and saw her and Oliver in the hammock together.”
“Oh, the hammock,” Bishop said. “That’s not bad.”
“Have you ever laid in a hammock with another person?” Montana demanded. “She was practically on top of him. I swear my heartbeat flew up my throat.”
“What were they doing?”
“Reading.”
“Reading?” Bishop burst out laughing.
“Bishop, this is serious.”
“I know,” he said through his chuckles. “I know it is. So you went down there, hopping mad, and….”
“She—I don’t want to say now.”
“Come on,” he said. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I was just expecting you to say they were making out. Reading felt so…tame.” He remembered what he and Montana were doing right before she left, and reading a book was nowhere near Bishop’s mind.
“She reacted the same way you did,” Montana said miserably. “She said they weren’t doing anything wrong. He was reading the book they have to do an analysis on for English, and she was taking notes so they could get the assignment done.”
“You were just surprised.”
“I forgot he was coming home with her,” Montana admitted. “You distract me, Bishop Glover.”
He started to laugh again but cut it off quickly. “In a good way, right?”
“Depends on what I need to remember and how late I am.”
“I won’t do it again,” he teased.
“Mm hm,” she said dryly. “That girl needs a job.” She sighed. “I just don’t know what to do for her. She’ll be fifteen in a few weeks, and who’s going to hire a fifteen-year-old?”
“Lots of people,” Bishop said.
“Really?’
“If she’s willing to work,” Bishop said. “There are tons of farms and ranches who are always looking for hands.” He entered the equipment shed, and Bear turned toward him with a growl on his face. He needed to wrap up this conversation quickly. “I’ll ask Bear and Ranger, okay? They always know stuff like that.”
“Would you?”
“Of course,” he said. “And you don’t need to come back up tonight. There’s nothing to do at the Ranch House, and the floors are done at the cabins.”
“You sure? I can just work on the cabinets.”
“It’s up to you,” Bishop said. “I’m good either way.”
Montana fell silent for a few moments, and Bishop opened his mouth to say he had to run when she said, “Would you come to a family dinner party for Aurora’s birthday?”
A strange, strangled noise came out of Bishop’s mouth. He quickly coughed and turned his back on Grizzly Bear. “Of course,” he said. “Absolutely. One hundred percent yes.”
Montana laughed and said, “Okay, Bishop. I got it.”
He pressed his eyes closed and begged the Lord to know what to say. He opened his mouth, still hoping God would just put the right words there. “Does this mean you’ll come to my family dinner birthday party thing next week?”
“Yes,” Montana said. “We’re all going to be there…just as soon as I figure out how to tell my daughter—who I just told she needed to be smart with boys and not be alone with them—that I’ve been kissing you.”
“She knows we’ve been out, right?”
“Sort of?” Montana hedged, and Bishop didn’t like that.
Behind