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“You said you’ve worked in housekeeping at a hotel?”
“Yeah. I’ve done that a ton of times. Hotels, motels. You name it. I’ve cleaned it.”
“Okay, make the rounds on the cabins today. The supplies are in the mess hall, where we just came from. You can start in a few hours. Get some rest.”
She nodded. “I don’t... I don’t really have much in the way of—”
“Toiletries should be in the bathroom. You can use the washer and dryer in Wyatt and Lindy’s place.”
He hadn’t verified that with his brother and sister-in-law, but he figured if they were going to start giving homes to strays he could give their washer and dryer.
“So.” She looked at him. “Is he your younger brother?”
“Who?”
“Wyatt.”
“No. I’m his younger brother.”
She made a musing sound. “You seem older than him.”
He had to laugh at that. He probably did. “No.”
“You have other brothers?”
“One,” he said. “And kind of a surrogate brother. And a younger sister. She’s around. If you need anything, and you see the girl with dark hair, that’s Jamie. She’ll be happy to help out.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I guess I’ll leave you to it, then.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He lifted his hand, brushing his fingertips against the brim of his hat, and their eyes caught and held. She was pretty. He wasn’t sure if he’d realized that yet. Well, he noticed she was pretty in that way he tended to find women pretty. They were female—he liked that, and he generally liked looking at them.
But McKenna Tate was something more. With her large brown eyes and delicate, pointed chin. Her dark hair was tangled, but still glossy, hanging around her face in a wild mane. And her mouth...
Pale pink with a deep curve at the center of the top lip, the lower one round and full.
He felt...hungry.
Dammit all. That wasn’t new. Not really. But he wasn’t used to that hunger hitting hard and specific, with a woman standing right in front of him.
General craving he was used to. It was part of him. Part of his life. Wanting sex and not having it was printed on his DNA.
This was specific. Sharp and focused.
He didn’t want a mouth.
He wanted that mouth.
Those lips.
Hell. No.
He forced himself to turn away. It was that or do something stupid he couldn’t take back. Dammit, he wasn’t one for guilt or pity but the woman had asked him outright if she was going to end up owing him anything and now he was staring at her lips like a sex-starved beast.
Because he was.
He walked out the front door without saying anything, taking in a deep breath of the cold early-morning air. Hoping it would do something to jolt him. To get rid of the deep, dark need that was coursing through his veins, ten times more potent than any alcohol.
He had work to do, and he was going to focus on that.
And he wasn’t going to give one more thought to McKenna Tate’s mouth.
CHAPTER THREE (#u22deb780-f134-5093-9308-9c6dc72d2054)
MCKENNA EMERGED FROM the cabin a few hours later feeling strangely numb. Like she might be wandering through an alternate dimension and wasn’t quite connected to her body. The cabin was so cute and neat, and she had felt weird putting her old, threadbare clothes away in the solid wood chest of drawers. Like they might dissolve the pretty cedar.
She wished that she had something warmer than what she was wearing, but her spare few items were what they were. And only what she could fit into a backpack.
A free promo phone she got on a pay-as-you-go plan, pajamas, two pairs of pants, two shirts, one pair of boots, some scattered and nearly used-up toiletries.
There were no warmer clothes in her possession at all. So she went ahead and braved the chilly afternoon, which didn’t seem like it was going to thaw at all, judging by the textured gray of the sky.
She followed Grant’s instructions and found the cleaning materials, then went to the first cabin and knocked. No one answered so she used the code he had provided for her to get inside. It was laid out similarly to her cabin, and she found cleaning it was a lot more fun than cleaning usually was. Mostly because she was used to cleaning whatever terrible apartment she lived in, or gross hotel rooms that were never going to lose the general film of seedy filth no matter how much elbow grease McKenna applied.
She moved through the row of cabins quickly and easily, feeling strangely accomplished by the end.
She was also hungry again. It had been hours since breakfast, and she had been running on empty, anyway. Of course, breakfast had been better than anything she’d had in a couple of months, so she would have thought it might sustain her. But no. It had just reminded her what it was like to have a full stomach. And now she wanted one again.
She wandered outside, wondering if it would be all right for her to go to the mess hall. Grant had mentioned that the ranch hands ate there during off-hours, and she wondered if two o’clock constituted off-hours.
She decided she was going to chance it, because she was really hungry.
She opened the door cautiously, peeking around before stepping inside.
The coffee station was still set up, and she decided that whatever there was to eat she was going to have caffeine with it.
There didn’t seem to be anyone around, so she went to the kitchen and helped herself to a bowl of soup, taking it out to the tables and sitting next to the window, bathing herself in the anemic light that was trying to get through the cloud cover. She felt warm. Warm and...safe.
She hadn’t really been aware of feeling like she was in danger, but that was partly because there had been nothing for her to do but soldier through. But now, now that she had a little bit of respite from the truly horrendous situation she’d found herself in, she could fully acknowledge how awful it had been.
She blinked, her eyes stinging slightly. She wasn’t going to cry. She didn’t do that. At least, not without a reason. Tears could be useful. They could soften your look, make people feel sorry for you.
Tears, on a personal level, were pointless.
Her thoughts drifted back to her tour guide. Grant Dodge.
Just thinking his name made her stomach tighten a little bit. And that was stupid. He was handsome. But she’d quit caring about how handsome a man was quite a while ago. Handsome didn’t mean anything.
The door to the mess hall opened and McKenna jumped, every reflex inside of her getting ready to run if she had to. Like she was in here stealing soup, instead of eating like Grant had said she could. But she felt like an outlier. An interloper.
It was her default setting, and it was difficult to just turn it off at a moment’s notice.
The woman who walked through the front door had wild, carrot-colored curls, and pink, wind-chapped cheeks. Her smile was cheery and friendly, and McKenna was taken off guard when it was immediately aimed at her. “Hi,” she said. “Are you one of the guests?”
“No,” McKenna said, reflexively wrapping her hands around her soup bowl and pulling it closer to her. “I work here.”
“Oh,” she said. “I work with Bennett Dodge. At his veterinary clinic.”
“Oh,” McKenna said. She had no idea that Bennett Dodge worked at a veterinary clinic. She could only assume that he was one of the brothers Grant had talked about. She didn’t like being caught off guard, and she didn’t like looking ignorant, so she chose not to ask any follow-up questions.
“I’m Beatrix,” she said. “Beatrix Leighton. I’m also Lindy’s sister-in-law. Well. I’m her ex-sister-in-law. She used to be married to my brother. But now she’s married to Wyatt.”
“That seems complicated,” McKenna said, somewhat interested against her will.
“Not really,” Beatrix said. “My brother was a terrible husband. And I love Lindy, and all I want is for her to be happy. Damien didn’t make her happy. Wyatt does. That’s about as simple as it gets.”
“I guess so.”
“How long have you been here?”
“About twenty minutes,” McKenna said, lifting another spoonful of soup to her lips.
Beatrix laughed and walked over to the coffee station. “No. I meant at the ranch.”
McKenna laughed. “Not much longer than that. I got here this morning.”
“Wow,” Beatrix said, filling up a coffee mug and, much to McKenna’s chagrin, taking a seat at the table across from her. “Where you from?”
“Out of town,” McKenna said.
“Okay. How did you find out about the ranch?”
“Oh, I kind of... Stumbled upon it.”
“I think you’ll like it here. They’re all great.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” From a total stranger. But McKenna wasn’t going to say that, because she was going to do her best not to alienate anyone in this place. It was warm, it was dry, there was food and coffee. While she planned her next move, there was no better place she could be. She had gone and stumbled into some kind of Hallmark Christmas movie, and she wasn’t going to question it. She was just going to accept the hospitality while she figured out how she was going to approach the Daltons.
She needed an idea that was a little bit better than wandering onto the property and announcing that she was a secret half sister.
If all else failed, she would definitely do that. But she was going to try to come up with something a little more sophisticated first.
“Have you met Jamie yet?” her chatty new friend pressed.
“No,” McKenna said.
“She’s the sister. The only sister. She’s one of my best friends. I’m here because we’re going to go riding. You can come along.”
McKenna shifted uncomfortably. “Thank you. But I have to keep working.” She also had no idea how to ride horses. She wasn’t sure she had ever been within thirty feet of one.
“Some other time,” Beatrix said. “Jamie is a great guide. That’s what she does here.”
For a moment, McKenna let herself wonder about the kind of alternate reality that might have existed where she could have... Lived on a ranch and ridden horses for a living. This whole place seemed like a sanctuary of some kind. And the whole family was just... Here. Not moving around. Not wondering where they might stay next. Not waiting for the other shoe to drop, or worrying about what might happen if a sour relationship went so sour that they had to leave it, and lose the roof over their head.
“Sure,” McKenna said, but there was basically no way in hell.
Still, she didn’t want to say that. She wasn’t sure why.
But this was such a strange, easy connection made with someone who wasn’t afraid to smile at her, and didn’t seem to want anything from her. Those kinds of connections were few and far between. McKenna wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever had an experience quite like it. So the last thing she was going to do was ruin it by being unfriendly.
“I’m sure I’ll see you around. I come by quite a bit.”
“Okay,” she said, “see you around.”
Beatrix stood, taking her coffee with her, offering a cheerful wave as she walked out the door, leaving McKenna alone with her soup.
“What the hell is this place?” she asked the empty room, obviously not expecting an answer.
She finished her soup and stood up, walking back to the kitchen. Right then, the back door opened, and Grant came in. She froze, her empty soup bowl in hand, as she stared at him for a moment, then blinked and looked away. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he returned, his voice gruff.
“I was just having lunch.”
“Good,” he said.
“Do I just...wash the bowl... Or...?”
His face remained immovable, taciturn, but he reached out and took the bowl from her hand, walking over to the sink. It was one of those large, commercial sinks with a detachable nozzle right on the spout. She wasn’t sure what they were called. Because she had certainly never lived in a place nice enough to have a kitchen that would have one. He set the bowl and spoon down in the sink, and then he did something truly unexpected. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, and turned the water on.
She just stood and watched while he filled the sink partway up with water, adding a little bit of soap. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, one dark brow lifting slightly as he did. He didn’t say anything.
So she just watched him.
His movements were direct. He didn’t waste any, she noticed. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy. His profile was strong, his jaw square. The dark whiskers that covered it only enhancing that sense of masculinity.
Her eyes dropped down to his forearms. They were strong, the muscles there shifting and flexing as he moved. She imagined he lifted objects over fifty pounds often. At least, his physique seemed to suggest that he did.
“Thank you,” she said, because she realized it was weird that she was standing there staring at him, and neither of them were saying anything.
“Not a problem,” he said.
“I could wash the bowl,” she said.
“Yeah, but I would’ve had to show you how it all worked. So I might as well do it. Anyway, you can learn for next time.”
