A Cold Montana Christmas- Chapter Five

A Man Don’t Get Many

COLD MONTANA CHRISTMAS: A CROSSFIRE CANYON NOVEL

A Cold Montana Christmas is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Copyright © 2021 by Mina Beckett

ebook ISBN: 978-1-7375127-0-7

Print ISBN: 978-1-7375127-1-4

Published by CurtissLynn Publishing

Cover and internal design by Shiver Shot Design

Editing by The Killion Group, Inc.

All rights reserved.

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Behind the Words: A Cold Montana Christmas- Chapter Five

Chapter Five didn’t show up loud. It didn’t rush the door with dialogue shouting to be typed. It wandered in slow, kicked off its boots, and waited for me to catch up.

I knew it had to carry weight, but not the kind that crushes you like the ones before. This chapter needed a different kind of gravity. The kind that settles into your chest and stays. The kind where goodbye and second chances exist in the same breath. And then Jack Reid, God rest his meddling soul, delivered a plot twist so bold it might actually work.

I knew I had to shift the speed of the novel, give it the bump it needed and let the readers relax just a little before the next beat started.

This chapter widens the lens a little. We meet the crew at the Lucky Jack: Mac and Duce, all tenacity and heart; Ian, the ramrod with good manners and strong opinions; and Martin Dane, the fresh-out-of-law-school pup with a tie he can’t quite wrangle. They walk on stage with nervous hands, dust on their boots, and secrets in their eyes. I wanted them to feel like real people, not just background noise.

But this chapter also gave me the chance to slow down and let readers feel the quiet beauty of something else, Sue and Jack Reid. Their history. Their love. The kind that lasts through divorce, stubborn pride, and too many years apart. It’s not flashy, but it’s deep-rooted and full of the kind of affection that doesn’t go away just because life didn’t go to plan. I wanted readers to feel that kind of enduring connection. Because not all great loves come with a perfect ending. Some just stay, even when the marriage doesn’t.

Lauren and Colton? They’ve done the hard part. The gut punches. The sharp-edged truths. Now they’re standing in the wreckage, trying not to trip over each other in public. There’s history in every glance, unresolved tension in every too-long pause, and more between them than either one is ready to admit.

Lauren thinks she’s ready to move on. Colton’s wrestling with the loss of his dad and the woman who still holds every part of his heart—while stuck beside her in a room full of ranch hands, family, and one very inconvenient will, courtesy of a father who’s still matchmaking from the grave.

This chapter wasn’t written in heat. It was written in restraint. A slow, deliberate build. And yes, I smiled while writing it. I teared up too because that’s how real relationships go. They’re messy and painful and sometimes hilarious in their timing. Love, grief, guilt, remorse—they all showed up for this one.

And Colton? Well, he’s finally seeing that love doesn’t mean much without effort. Without truth. Without showing up, even when it’s hard.

So here we are. One room. Two exes. A funeral. A will. And just enough snow in the air to make trouble feel inevitable.

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CHAPTER FIVE

Lauren woke dreading the day ahead, but embraced it as a new chapter in her new life. Colton had agreed to the divorce. He wouldn’t try to stop her. It would be a smooth transition.

With that in mind, she showered and dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans, a long sleeve flannel top and a pair of cowboy boots. Plain, without fancy stitching, worn at the bend and slightly scuffed at the toes.

She packed her bags and set them on the bed. Checkout wasn’t until noon, and she estimated the reading of the will wouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.

Zipping her coat, she walked down the hall and out the front entrance. Tiny snowflakes dotted the wind, whirling around her whimsically, and added to her fear that the weather might deteriorate before they made it to the airport. Or worse, their flight would be cancelled, and she’d be stuck in Crossfire Canyon until the storm passed.

There was a time in her life when she’d loved snow. But now, it reminded her of how close Colton had come to dying. Shoving her hands into the pocket of her coat, she dipped her head to fight off the wind and shivered as she thought about how he must have felt lying in that snowbank, alone and desperate for warmth.

Cutting across the street, she headed for the rental place to return her keys. Crossfire Canyon was a small town with a population of less than a thousand people. Business owners had trimmed the quaint shops and restaurants with merry Christmas bows, wreaths, and garland. Gretel Gillespie, the proprietor of GG’s Curl Coral and Beauty Salon, outdid the other shop owners along Main Street, trimming the front window with lights, tinsel, and plastic icicles.

The flashing bulbs of the casino sign down the street couldn’t outshine Gretel’s handiwork.

Lauren smiled, thinking of the people she’d considered as family. She’d loved living in Montana and missed the beauty of the mountains, the caring people of Crossfire Canyon. A part of her heart and soul would always be here.

After she returned the keys, she continued down the street.

The Humphry and Dane Law Office was nestled in the middle of a set of historic buildings. Over the years, the buildings had been renovated, then bricked in the seventies, and dreadfully needed another renovation.

Lauren stood in front of the door and took a deep breath, reminding herself that the hard part was over. A few more hours and her failed marriage and Montana would be behind her.

She tugged the door open and walked across the vacant waiting area to the conference room where Sue had instructed her to go. She could hear deep male voices on the other side of the double doors. Her intention was to ease quietly through the door and find a place in the back of the packed room without bringing attention to herself. She twisted the knob and tried clearing the door, but a set of broad shoulders clad in a blue and black checked flannel shirt blocked it. “Pardon me.”

“Oh.” The cowboy did a side-step and opened the door for her. “Sorry about that.”

Lauren didn’t recognize the man, but replied with a smile as she searched the room for Little Jack.

“You’re Lauren Ritter.” He winced and corrected himself. “I mean Mrs. Ritter.”

Not for long.

He greeted her with his huge right hand. “I’m Ian Moore, the Lucky Jack’s forman.”

She accepted his handshake. “Call me Lauren. Have you seen my son?”

He raised his head to peer over the crowd. “I think J. D. is in the front row.”

J.D.?

“Yeah, I see him.” Before Lauren could ease to the wall, Ian laid a hand on her shoulder and parted the wave of cowboys with a deep, commanding voice. “Let’s make a path for the lady.”

“That’s unnecessary,” she said as he moved her forward.

“Oh, yes, it is,” he insisted. “They’ve saved a seat for you.”

Two columns of metal folding chairs had been arranged in rows of four. Colton was sitting on the left side next to the aisle. Her reserved seat was next to him.

Perfect.

She and Colton were expected to sit together. Sue was seated to the left of Lauren’s vacant seat, and Mia casually occupied the chair at the end of the row.

How cozy.

Contempt swathed Lauren. If it weren’t for making a spectacle of herself, she would have marched past Colton and properly unseated Aunt Mia. But this wasn’t the time or the place for a clash with a rival.

Rival?

Good grief, Lauren. You’re not a brawler.

If the woman wanted Colton, she could have him. Lauren would not fight for a cheating husband. She’d keep her peace, preserve her dignity, and respect Jack Reid’s last words to his family. She owed that to her in-laws.

Seated in the second and third rows were some of the same faces she’d seen last night. The empty chairs on the right, she guessed, had been reserved for the men clogging the doorway, the Lucky Jack cowboys.

Colton did a double take when he saw her and Ian coming up the aisle. He stood. A stiff guise took hold of his face as he stepped back so she could get to her seat.

“She had trouble getting through the crowd,” Ian explained, without acknowledging his boss’s furious scowl. “Nice to meet you, Lauren.”

“You too, Ian.”

Once she was in her seat, Colton sat down beside her and set his Stetson on his thigh. She noticed he still wore the wedding band she’d placed on his finger.

“Since when are you on a first name basis with my ramrod?” he demanded, his tone hushed but sharp.

Colton wore a plain olive drab flannel shirt and jeans but was, by far, the handsomest man in the room. She’d never had eyes for any other man but him, and that hadn’t changed. “I didn’t see the need for formality. I won’t be Mrs. Ritter for much longer.”

His brown eyes cut into her with a haughty stare. “But until that damn divorce is final, you are my wife.”

He had the gall to act possessive now when his mistress was sitting two seats down from them?

The nerve.

Lauren pointed to Mia, smiled sweetly, and wrinkled her nose. “She’s so cute. Like an accessory you take everywhere.”

“For the last time. I’m not having an affair.” He leaned forward, positioned his elbow on his thigh, and studied down at the floor. “Why can’t you give me the benefit of the doubt, Lauren?”