by Em Petrova
He started to walk off. “Follow me. I’m the white truck.”
She lifted her head and called after him. “I don’t even know your name!”
“It’s Bellamy. Aidan Bellamy.”
* * * * *
He never could stand to see a woman cry.
He also might have made a rash decision.
Hell, now he was saddled with a ranch hand. Did she even know anything about horses, cattle or running a spread?
“Damn,” he drawled out to himself. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw her battered pickup that’d seen better days and her face above the steering wheel.
Pretty little thing.
No, beautiful. Blonde wavy hair streaked with red-gold that glinted in the sun caught his attention straight away. A second glance at her had revealed eyes shaped like almonds without the makeup he usually saw on women, they were a striking shade of golden brown.
Add in that patch of freckles across her nose and cheekbones—not to mention her toned forearms…
Crap, he’d noticed too much, and all the wrong things. Were those arms of hers toned enough to sling around bales of hay?
Seeing those big fat tears pouring down the woman’s face had twisted him up good. Maybe it was the fact he’d purchased the land where his great grandmother had been born and reared along with her six siblings that made him extend the offer to the woman. He couldn’t help but think this was what Gramma Helen would want—a chivalrous great-grandson to lend a hand to a woman in distress.
Liberty Baker. Mizz Liberty Baker.
He could only guess at her past if she insisted so strongly on his use of Ms. That alone threw all kinds of red flags into his path. From his experience, women of her age were looking for husbands. A day didn’t go by when he didn’t get hit on at Meyers’ Supermarket or simply walking down the sidewalk in Crossroads. Hell, he hadn’t stepped foot in the coffeeshop in months because one waitress made him so uncomfortable with her advances.
Just because he was a bachelor didn’t mean he didn’t like it that way. In fact, he loved his solo life. Nobody to answer to and he didn’t worry about ticking anybody off. He worked his ranch alone, ate alone and went to bed alone.
Okay, so maybe he didn’t love all the aspects of the bachelor life, but he did appreciate good company more when he exposed himself to it.
He glanced in the rearview mirror again. Liberty stared ahead, at the rear of his truck as she followed him down the road to the short lane leading to his place. Across the fields would take no more than five minutes on horseback to go between his old ranch and the newly acquired one.
Now he had all of two minutes before he parked in front of his house to figure out what to do with this woman who’d gotten thrown into the deal.
After he parked and climbed out, he watched Liberty drive in next to him and cut the engine. While the truck appeared old, the engine sounded in good repair at least.
She hesitated, sitting behind the wheel, and he could only imagine the things going through her head. She might be a crazy, emotional nutter, and if that was the case, he wouldn’t have a problem sending her on down the road. Sometimes things didn’t work out.
If she proved to be remotely helpful, he would appreciate the help to join the ranches’ borders and create one large spread where he could expand his operation.
When she opened the door and stood, he saw she took some effort to mop her face and collect herself. While her eyes were still red-rimmed and her cheeks flushed pink, she wore a new determination on her face.
Their gazes met. God, could the golden-brown depths of her eyes look more pitiful?
He couldn’t turn her out right now. He didn’t know her situation, but any woman who accepted an impromptu job offer from a stranger must be desperate.
He waved a hand. “This is my place. Hundred acres plus. I’ve got a cattle herd I recently added to and plan to move between this and the Windswept.”
She swallowed hard. “What do you call this ranch?”
“Don’t call it nothing at all.”
“Oh, I thought it might be the Bellamy.”
“Nah, that’s my uncle’s ranch. He’s got a big outfit he and my cousins work with him. I’m more of a solo guy.”
She didn’t respond to that, only pivoted in a circle to look at the nearby house, shed, barn and a new outbuilding.
He pointed to the building. “I planned to put the tractor in there, but I guess that wasn’t meant to be today.”
A soft sigh trickled out of her, and her shoulders seemed to deflate like a balloon with the air released. “Guess a lot of things weren’t meant to be today.”
On one hand he felt sorry as hell for the woman. On the other hand, he needed the land that his ancestors had lived upon and worked to feed them and keep them all thriving. He might not have a family of his own, but there wasn’t anything stronger than blood ties in his eyes.
“I’m guessin’ if you were in the market to buy a ranch that you have some knowledge?” he asked.
She nodded. “I grew up riding from a young age. I always had a dream of owning my own place and raising horses.” Her voice didn’t break again, but it did waver. A wrong word would make her snap again.
He had to keep that from happening. “Let me show ya around. Introduce you to my horses.”
When he set off toward the barn, she kept pace. Her legs were longer than he thought. They were also outlined by the jeans she wore in all the right ways. Since he was a leg man, this could become a problem. He didn’t want to be caught staring, so he turned his attention aside.
“I’ll show ya the barn now. The horses are out to pasture.” A big hand-cut field stone acted as a step up to the barn door. He’d rescued the rock from the old foundation of the house where his great-grandma grew up and hauled it all the way here.
He pushed the door open to the silent, shadowed space. Dust swirled in the patches of sunlight seeping through a few cracks in the wallboards, and the scent of fresh straw made his nose tingle.
He stepped inside, and she followed.
“It’s big,” she noted, looking around. “How many horses do you keep here?”
“Right now, only a dozen. I recently sold some newly broken ones at auction. Fetched good prices too.”
“What breed?” The sadness in her eyes was replaced with a bright interest.
“Quarter horses.”
“Good stock.”
“Yeah.” Seeing he wouldn’t be mired down with a woman who completely lacked knowledge, he led her through the barn. “I clean these daily as needed. Here, I keep one horse who likes to chew.” He pointed to the side where the horse had gnawed the wood board.
“He’s bored,” she said at once.
Aidan arched a brow. “Pretty sure that’s the case. I’m thinkin’ about turning him out to run with the herd.”
“Herd?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a dozen more in the smaller of the two fields and a solid shelter for them. These are separated because they’re my breeding stock.”
Her eyes lit at that, shining in the dimness. Caught off guard, he stared at her a beat too long.
He twisted and continued out the big double doors. After a sweeping tour of the horse pasture and the dry shed where he stored hay and some other types of feed, he pointed to the cattle in the farthest field.
“You take care of all this yourself?” Her voice held a note of awe.
“It’s my life. Got nothin’ else.”
Her eyes shifted to his hand, and he knew she was looking for a wedding band.
Finally, he took her to the house. All during their walk, he’d been thinking about where she’d stay. Since there wasn’t a bunkhouse, and the old house built later on the Windswept had seen neglect from the past few owners and wasn’t habitable at the moment, only one option remained.
First he showed her the deck and hot tub.
Her brows shot up. “I didn’t expect this.”
“Sore joints from pla
ying football in my younger days.” He offered her a smile and took her inside through the sliding glass door. As he roamed through the rooms of his home, he wished he’d cleaned up better. There were dirty dishes in the sink and the laundry room smelled faintly of cows.
Liberty trailed behind until he stopped at the door of the bathroom. Several towels were draped over the shower door and even the vanity.
She gripped the doorframe and shook her head so her buttery blonde hair brushed her shoulders. Her stare latched onto the toilet seat, left open. Who did he have to close it for?
His momma’d taught him better, that was true, but after years of living alone, he’d stopped hearing her words of warning that someday he’d live with a woman who’d want the toilet seat down.
Liberty turned to him. “No way,” she said.
He blinked at her. “No way?”
“Yeah—no way am I staying here to become your maid!” She spun on her heels and stalked through the house.
Chapter Two
The old saying about desperate times and desperate measures wasn’t adding up in this case.
Liberty had lost the ranch and might not know where she’d sleep that night, but she sure as hell wasn’t sticking around to be Aidan Bellamy’s maid.
Ranch hand? Hah! He had more dirty socks balled up on the bedroom floor than most people had in their drawers. From the kitchen to the dusty floors to the state of the bathroom, the house was a mess.
“Mizz Baker! Wait.” He caught up to her at the front door.
She stepped outside and caught a whiff of the fresh breeze carrying a hint of grass and nature. That was the only thing stopping her in her tracks and making her face him again.
Her stare landed on a chest so chiseled he looked like one of those Olympic swimmers or gymnasts. And looking up at him didn’t help. That angled jaw appeared to be sharp enough to cut oak. The creases around his hardened lips might have been put there by smiling, but she saw no evidence of such an expression now.
And those eyes. Damn, did the man need to look directly into her soul? She didn’t want him to see that bruised-up shit.
“Thank you for your offer, Mr. Bellamy, but I won’t be staying.”
He straightened. “Look, I know my house isn’t always the cleanest, but I didn’t know I was bringing somebody in today. I’ve had sick cows and I’ve spent a coupla nights in the field, which means I got behind on laundry and dishes and…”
He trailed off and pulled his hat into his hands. For the first time, she saw all of Aidan Bellamy.
She sucked in a breath. Mussed, warm brown hair that curled at the ends and fell in a swoop across his tanned forehead.
“I’m not lookin’ for a maid. I’d offer other living quarters, but this is all I got for now. At some point, when I fix up the house on the Windswept—”
She stopped him. “What’s wrong with living there now?”
His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, which only made him look more attractive and broody. Mr. Rochester of the cowboy world.
“You didn’t walk through the house before putting in a bid on it?” he asked.
“I looked at photos,” she admitted.
“That explains why you didn’t see that there’s no working bathroom or kitchen in the place.”
“Wait a minute.” She threw up a hand. “The fixtures are all intact in the photographs.”
“But the plumbing’s shot and so’s the electric. The house was neglected. It needs gutted and redone. No one offered to show you the inside?”
“I was told the keys were unavailable.”
Her stomach swirled with fury. Vanessa, the real estate agent, hadn’t clued her in to these problems. Why? Liberty paid her good money for a consultation and to give her opinion on the property’s worth so she could educate herself before putting in her bid. A bid she’d lost on maybe for the better. She didn’t have the means to fix up a house to make it habitable.
“I…” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I need a little time to think about your offer to work here and share the house with you.”
He dipped his head in a nod. “That’s only right. Take the time you need. I’m gonna make some calls.”
He disappeared inside the house, leaving her alone on the front porch of a stranger’s house. A house she’d live in with said stranger. Why was she even considering his offer at all? She only needed to climb into her truck and drive on down the road. Crossroads wasn’t the only quaint small town in America, and she still had her inheritance stashed in her account.
After running her ex’s computer sales empire, she could work in any corporate office, get an apartment and wait for the right property to come up for sale. If the Windswept wasn’t it, then she’d saved herself some headaches.
Walking to the porch railing, she leaned against it and sank her fingers into her hair. God, what a long day, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. She looked over the land that was on offer to her. Living here and helping unite two properties into one massive ranch went along with her life-change goals, where her idea of finding an apartment and job did not.
Hadn’t she fled that life once? It all came down to her soul. She’d sold it once before to a husband who sucked it dry. She’d barely got it back, but it still lay there like a limp, deflated child’s ball. Needing a breath of air. Only doing what she loved would nurture it a state of whole.
Maybe this arrangement wasn’t ideal, but it would offer her the peace she sought. Working with animals, especially horses, using her hands and brainpower for finding solutions to new problems she never encountered before, would make her happy.
The living situation left something to be desired. She didn’t want to live with a slob who wouldn’t clean up after himself. He probably burped and farted too.
It’s only a place to sleep when I’m not outdoors enjoying the ranch life.
Staring at the field, she knew it would be lit up with fireflies at night, and she easily pictured herself sitting in the grass, watching them blink on and off as they flitted around.
That peaceful image made up her mind more than anything else. A silly thing to cling to, but it was hers, and she’d grab it while she could.
After all, if things didn’t work out, she still owned her truck and had enough money in the bank to continue on down the road to find something different.
Now to consider her “boss.” A bachelor with too much work on his hands. A man who slept in the field with his sick cows.
A shiver of excitement slipped into her belly. Why that sounded so good to her, she had no idea. Of course, it had nothing to do with the picture painted on the canvas of her brain, of Aidan Bellamy stretched out in the grass under the star-spangled sky, his hat over his face and his long legs stretched out.
She realized she pressed her fingertips to her mouth to still the fast breaths panting out at the image and dropped her hand. So her boss would be easy on the eyes.
Question was could she live with another man who gave her orders?
With no strings attached, maybe it wouldn’t feel like being ordered around. Plus, she was no longer the pushover she once was—her ugly divorce forced her to stand up for herself. Therapy taught her that she was a people pleaser, and it took her six full months before she could assertively recite aloud, “I will not be walked on.” Now she meant it.
She shielded her eyes with a hand to gaze at the fields. Cattle grazed, and in another pasture, the horses swished their tails.
Liberty sighed. If she couldn’t own the Windswept right now, she could still work with animals and learn. Surely that would help fill up the hole inside her and refresh her soul until her time came to move on.
She turned for the messy, dusty house to find her new boss and tell him she’d stay—but she wouldn’t be picking up his damn dirty socks.
* * * * *
“Did you always deal with cows and horses?”
Liberty’s voice held a breathless note as she jumped into the passenger seat of t
he truck. Aidan tossed her a look. If she was already breathing hard from exertion, she wouldn’t last a day. They hadn’t even started the feed routine.
“Pretty much from the start, yeah.”
“That’s unusual,” she said.
“What is?” He rubbed his fingertip along his jaw. He wasn’t much of a talker. Spending most of his days alone, his only chance to converse happened when he visited the Bellamy and spent time with his uncle and cousins.
“Most ranchers focus on one or the other.”
“That’s true enough, but I’m not most ranchers.”
Her stare landed on him and skated away. “Well, it seems like you’re making a go of it. Must be difficult on your own. You don’t have any workers?”
“My cousins lend a hand now and then. In fact, they’ll be up tomorrow bright and early to separate some mommas from their calves.”
“Why do you do that?”
“That time o’ the summer to vaccinate them.”
She nodded. At some point after making her decision to take him up on his offer, she’d implanted her things in the spare room, changed into faded jeans and a T-shirt and boots. She also pulled her hair off her face in a ponytail and added a wide-brimmed cowgirl hat. He’d been looking at her in that hat a few times too many and that was only while loading the truck with supplies.
The hat softened her features, taking her from pretty to stunning. Or maybe it was the other way around—she was stunning without the hat and pretty with it on.
He drove the dirt lane between pastures. As soon as the cows heard his truck, they started to move. “They know it’s feeding time,” he told Liberty.
She watched with interest, looking left and right. “You said there’s a hundred head?”
“Give or take, yeah. I lost one the other night before I realized it was sick. It’s why I slept in the field—to keep watch over them.”
Her head swayed in a slow shake. She didn’t speak, so he had no clue what that gesture might mean. He braked as he reached the end of the pasture, and some empty water bottles rolled out from under the passenger seat and hit Liberty’s feet.
She looked down.
“Sorry. I’m not much of a clean truck guy.”