by Elle James
While Mrs. McKinnon scrambled eggs, Parker helped by buttering the toast and laying out forks and knives on the large kitchen table.
Molly poured another cup of coffee and handed it to him.
Their fingers touched briefly, sending a spark of awareness up his arm and into his chest.
Her eyes widened, and she jerked away her hand as if it had been burned. Had she felt it, too?
As they settled in at the table, each with a plate full of fluffy yellow scrambled eggs, Molly said, “I don’t think Duncan, Fiona or Caity will be joining us.”
Her mother sighed. “Caity was fussy all night long. I hope she’s not coming down with something.”
“Me, too. She’s such a sweetie,” Molly smiled. “I love my little niece. I’m so glad Fiona and Duncan are together, now.”
“Me, too,” Mrs. McKinnon said. “My first grandchild to spoil. Your father will be ecstatic when he learns about his first grandchild.”
Molly’s jaw firmed. “And he will get to see her and hold her.”
Her mother nodded. “Yes, he will. I just know it.”
Parker admired Mrs. McKinnon. She reminded him of his own mother. Strong, self-reliant and optimistic.
For the first few weeks her husband had been missing, the woman had been a tower of strength, convinced her husband would be coming home soon. Her confidence seemed a little more shaken after learning her husband had been tortured.
He couldn’t imagine the stress she was under. Hell, he couldn’t imagine the stress her husband was under.
The McKinnons were working with Hank Patterson and the Brotherhood Protectors, researching the origins of the money paid to the men who’d tortured Mr. McKinnon. When they finally sifted through the many layers of corporations, they should come up with the individual responsible for James McKinnon’s disappearance.
Parker hoped they’d find the man soon. His family was holding out hope. He didn’t want to see them lose that hope. And he didn’t want them to lose Mr. McKinnon. The elder McKinnon had been the glue that held the Iron Horse Ranch together. Since his disappearance, his sons and daughter had stepped up to the plate to see that the ranch continued to run smoothly.
Not so worried about losing his job, Parker was more concerned for the welfare of Mr. McKinnon. He liked the man’s structure and work ethic. He suspected James had had the basis of his strength and discipline even before he’d entered the Marines as a young man. The Marine Corps had cultivated even more discipline and self-control, making him the man he was today.
As a PJ, Parker had had to prove his strength and skills. He recognized and admired those qualities in others—which included all the McKinnon family.
Duncan McKinnon appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, his hair rumpled and with shadows beneath his eyes. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Wow. I didn’t know babies could stay up all night long.” He headed straight for the coffeemaker and poured some of the rich brew into a mug. Then he headed for the door. “This is for Fiona. I don’t know how she managed all alone when Caity was a newborn.”
“I take it the three of you won’t be able to follow me into town to drop off my truck for maintenance?” Mrs. McKinnon asked.
Duncan frowned. “Is that today?”
“I can call and reschedule. Your father had it on the calendar today. It’s no big deal. The factory recall can wait. It’s just the side airbags, and I’ve turned off the functionality.”
Still frowning, Duncan looked at the coffee in his hand and back to his mother. “If it could wait, that would be better for us.”
“I’ll call in a few minutes,” Mrs. McKinnon said.
“No. You can keep your appointment, Mom,” Molly said. “I can follow you into town.”
“We can follow you into town,” Parker amended. “Better yet, Molly can drive, and I’ll follow you both into town. That way I can keep an eye on you both.”
“You sure?” Duncan asked. “I’d hate to take out Fiona and Caity when the little one’s not feeling her best.”
“You keep Caity and Fiona here at home,” Mrs. McKinnon said. “Go, give that poor mama her coffee. We’ll handle things.”
“Keep an eye open for trouble,” Parker reminded the second oldest McKinnon brother.
“I will. And thanks.” Duncan left the room.
“What time is your appointment?” Molly asked. “Do we have time to take care of the animals first?”
Her mother smiled. “Plenty. It’s not for a couple more hours.”
Molly’s lips pinched. “Will you be all right while we take care of the animals, with Duncan upstairs?”
“We’re just going to the barn,” Parker said. He turned to Molly. “After we drop the truck, we can head out to take care of the rest of the fence that needs repair.”
Molly nodded. “We’ll be within yelling distance. And when we go out this afternoon, Duncan can stay downstairs to look out for you and his little family.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Mrs. McKinnon took one more bite of her scrambled eggs and rose from the table, carrying her plate to the sink.
“Mom, you didn’t clean your plate,” Molly said softly.
Her mother chuckled. “Oh, so now we’re switching roles?”
“You haven’t been eating enough to keep a bird alive,” Molly said.
“I eat enough,” her mother said. “Now, you two quit worrying about me. Those animals need to be tended. As for that matter, I can help.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Parker assured her. “We can handle it.”
“Unless you want to get outside,” Molly suggested.
Her mother shook her head. “I’d really like to go check on my granddaughter. I worry about her.”
“Then check on her,” Molly said. “I can clean up the dishes.”
“But you need to take care of the animals,” Mrs. McKinnon argued.
“They can wait a few more minutes,” Molly smiled. “I’m pretty fast at washing dishes.”
“And I’ve pulled my share of kitchen patrol,’ Parker said with a smile. “I’m pretty good at drying.”
Molly frowned, and then forced a smile. “We’ve got this. Go check on Caity.” Molly poured another mug of coffee. “And take this to Duncan. He looked like he could use it.”
“He did, didn’t he?” Her mother smiled. “Thank you, dear.” She cupped her daughter’s cheek. Then she turned to Parker. “Both of you. Thanks.”
Parker dipped his head. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
Mrs. McKinnon cocked an eyebrow. “Please, don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old.”
“Yes, ma’am—” Parker grinned. “Yes, Mrs. McKinnon.”
“And don’t call me Mrs. McKinnon. That was my mother-in-law.” Her face softened. “You can call me Hannah.”
Parker shook his head. “I’m sorry. I respect you too much to call you Hannah. How about Mrs. M or Mrs. Mac?”
She smiled. “That would be better,” she said. “Thank you.”
“No,” Parker said. “Thank you. You and Mr. McKinnon have been amazing by welcoming me to this ranch and letting me do the work I do here.”
“We’re lucky to have you, Parker,” she said. “James speaks highly of everything you do.”
Parker dipped his head. “I try to do right by him. I have nothing but admiration for the man and this ranch.”
“You and Molly make a good team. I’ve been after James for a while now to take a back seat to others when it comes to working the ranch. He’s worked hard for so long that he doesn’t know how to relax.” Mrs. McKinnon chuckled. “I’ll bet right now, he’s not thinking about how miserable he is so much as what’s not getting done.”
“We’re taking care of things,” Molly said.
Her mother nodded. “He’s so proud of you, Molly.”
“He had a funny way of showing it,” she said, tipping her head toward Parker.
Her mother gave her a soft smile. “I told him you wouldn’t be happy when he h
ired Parker. But your father had a reason for doing what he did. He didn’t want you to be saddled with all the responsibility of the ranch. Especially with all his sons serving in the military.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Molly’s lips thinned. She turned to Parker. “These dishes aren’t getting done on their own.”
Her mother gripped her arm. “Molly, your father wanted you to have a choice of what your life would be. If you became too entrenched in the ranch, you might not consider marriage and children. You were always so intense about doing everything here at the Iron Horse Ranch. He was afraid you wouldn’t give yourself a chance to fall in love.”
“I’m as good a rancher as any one of the boys,” Molly said, her mouth tight.
“Better,” her mother said.
Molly stared at her mother. “Dad didn’t feel that way.”
“He did,” her mother insisted.
Molly’s chin lifted, her eyes suspiciously shiny. “Can we talk about this another time?”
Parker shifted uncomfortably. He felt like he’d been caught in a conversation the two women should have had without him present. “I’ll wait outside.”
“If you want,” Molly said. “I’m going to do the dishes.” She turned back to her mother. “I’ve always done what I love doing. No man will ever change my mind about that. I just wish Dad would have understood that.” She headed for the sink. “Are you going to dry, Parker?”
Parker gave Mrs. McKinnon a twisted grin. “We’ll lock the doors behind us on our way out, just to be safe. We won’t be far.”
Mrs. McKinnon touched his arm and whispered, “Now, you can understand why she might not have been too happy about your coming to work at the Iron Horse Ranch. And now, she knows why her father did what he did. I’m just sorry he didn’t explain it to her at the time.” She dropped her hand to her side. “I hope I didn’t make things even more awkward between the two of you.”
“I can hear you, Mom,” Molly said.
“Nothing I wouldn’t say to your face,” Mrs. M said. “Going to check on my grandbaby.” And she left the kitchen.
Parker cringed. He didn’t like being the person who had taken the job someone else deserved, no matter how well-intentioned Mr. McKinnon had been.
Chapter 4
Molly couldn’t believe her mother had outed her in front of Parker. For the past five years, she’d gone about ranch work, trying not to show her anger over her father’s choice to hire a foreman. She’d figured that, eventually, the foreman would leave, and she’d get the job.
“Look, I’m sorry your father chose me over you to be the foreman,” Parker said as he lifted a hand towel from the countertop.
“I’m over it,” Molly said. “I can wash and dry. You don’t have to stick around. It’s women’s work, anyway.”
“I do my own dishes in my quarters,” he pointed out. “I don’t consider it women’s work.”
“Men only do it when they have no one else to dump the task on.”
“That’s a very sexist thing to say,” he said, taking a wet plate from her hands. “If I’d said that, you’d have been all over me.”
Molly sighed. “You’re right. That was uncalled for. My brothers have done almost as many dishes as I have. My mother made sure of it. And my mother has cleaned as many stalls as any of the men who’ve worked on this ranch. She can pound a T-post with the best of them, and she’s a better horseback rider than all of us.” Molly handed him another plate. “I just wish my father would’ve talked to me before...”
“Before he hired me.” Parker wiped the plate dry and stacked it in the cabinet.
“Yes.” Molly washed another plate and handed it to him.
“You missed a spot,” he said.
“Now, you’re a critic?” She grabbed the plate from him and dunked it back into the sink.
He chuckled. “When I met you, I thought you were a young, cranky tomboy who wanted her daddy’s attention.”
Molly glared at him.
Parker held up his hands. “Don’t blame me. You were angry, and I didn’t know why. Now, I get it. But even before your mother set me straight, I knew you were more concerned about how well the ranch was run. You didn’t counter anything I did that made sense.”
“But I did tell you when you were doing something wrong,” she admitted.
“Yes, you did.” He reached around her, dropping a cup into the sink.
Soapy water splashed up on her, and she backed up quickly, bumping into his chest.
Heat spread up her neck into her cheeks.
“Sorry,” Parker said. He turned her to face him and dabbed at the suds on the front of her shirt.
Molly’s breath caught in her throat. The heat in her cheeks spread downward, filling her chest and sinking lower to her very core.
She clutched his hand with the towel. “It’s just water,” she said, her voice gravelly, so unlike her usual clear tone.
He raised the hand holding the towel.
Molly’s eyes rounded. Was he going to kiss her fingers?
“I need the towel to dry the dishes,” he said.
She let go of the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Oh. Of course.” Molly let go of his hand and the towel and spun back to the sink. She had the rest of the dishes washed quickly, her hands shaking, her mind whirling with Parker standing so near. Twice, she nearly dropped glasses while handing them off to Parker. He’d caught them both times.
“Are you okay?” he asked as she drained the soapy water from the sink.
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem a little jumpy.” He hung the towel on the oven handle. “Did last night leave you a little punchy?”
“Yes,” she said, a little too quickly, glad for any excuse other than Parker being near as the reason why she was so off balance. “Ready to take care of animals?” She spun to find Parker standing right behind her.
He rested his hands on her arms. “Are you all right? I can take care of the animals myself. You can stay in the house with your mother and Duncan, if you’re anxious about going outside again.”
“No. I’m fine. Working with the animals always calms me. They don’t usually argue or talk back.” Her lips quirked. “Except when Rusty gives me attitude about his grain. He thinks I don’t give him enough and tells me about it when I feed the other horses.”
Parker let go of her arms and smiled. “I noticed that about him. He’s got a healthy appetite.”
Molly stepped around Parker. “He’d get fat if I fed him as much grain as he wanted.”
“That’s why he looks so good.”
“Were you the one who put him up last night?” Molly’s brows furrowed.
“No, your brother Bastian did.”
“It’s all a blur,” she said.
“I don’t doubt that,” Parker frowned. “Whatever they gave you knocked you out.”
“How did I get into the house and up to my room?” she asked. “I don’t remember any of that.”
“You had a little help.” He held the door for her.
Molly stopped halfway through. “You carried me?”
He shrugged. “Someone had to. You weren’t getting there on your own. Besides, I feel a little responsible for you now that I’ve saved your life.” He winked and twisted the lock on the door handle.
“You know you’re not responsible for me,” she said.
“Uh, yes, I am.” He raised his eyebrows. “Your brothers seem to think you’ll listen to me over them.”
Molly frowned. “They think I don’t listen to them?” She snorted. “If they had something useful to say, I would. But bossing me around isn’t useful.”
His lips twitched. “Like they said, you don’t listen to them.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So you say.” He followed her down the porch steps and out to the barn.
The horses inside their stalls whinnied impatiently.
“Sorry, boys,” she called out. “I slept i
n.”
Molly and Parker quickly went to work feeding the horses. Once they’d finished giving the horses their grain and hay, they turned them loose in the pasture beside the barn and mucked the stalls. It was dirty work, but needed to be done, since she hadn’t cleaned them the day before.
When they finished mucking out the stalls, Molly and Parker shoveled in wood chips and put fresh sections of hay in their mangers for later that day when the horses would come in from the pasture.
Once they were finished taking care of the barn, Molly grabbed a bucket of chicken feed and a fishnet and headed for the chicken coop.
“What’s the net for?” Parker asked.
“For Red.”
Parker’s brow wrinkled. “The rooster?”
She nodded. “Yup.” As she reached the chicken coop, Red the rooster charged her.
With one quick swoop, she caught the rooster in the fishnet and hung the net, rooster and all, on the side of the coop.
Parker laughed. “He doesn’t usually attack me.”
“For some reason, he doesn’t like women,” Molly said. “I learned that trick from my mother. We’ve had several roosters who liked to sink their spurs into our legs. This method saves our legs and the rooster from the cookpot.”
Parker entered the coop with Molly.
While she poured grain into the chicken feeder, Parker collected eggs from the nests.
Between the two of them, they collected a dozen eggs, placing them in the now empty grain bucket.
Parker filled the small water trough for the chickens.
Molly left the coop with the eggs.
When they were done with the chickens, Parker emptied the fishnet, releasing the rooster into his harem of chickens.
The rooster ruffled his feathers and strutted several steps, keeping a close eye on the man who’d turned him loose.
“Genius,” Parker murmured, carrying the fishnet back to the barn where he hung it on the wall inside the door.
“Not so much genius as experience,” she said. “Ever have a rooster sink his spurs into you?”
Parker shook his head. “Never got close enough.”
“He waits until you’re busy collecting eggs and attacks you from behind. I have scars on my calves.”