by Joyce, T. S.
She swayed at the door, but a firm hand gripped her upper arm. In a worried tone, Ian asked, “Are you feeling poorly?”
“I think I’m in shock,” she admitted as she allowed him to guide her into the giant coop. “I thought you’d left for good.”
“Well, you were stubborn and asking for it.”
She would’ve been offended if it weren’t for the teasing edge in his tone. She set the squawking, scratching box down with an unintentional thud.
“I’ll get the rest of them,” Ian murmured. “You go fill their water dispenser.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded dreamy and strange to her own ears, as if it belonged to someone else.
She wasn’t used to being bossed around, and it should’ve rankled her, but by his worried tone, she got the distinct feeling Ian was asking her to do the easy job. She wasn’t making a good impression on him. She was much tougher than she looked and had made it through much bigger than a little engagement shock.
The coop was tall enough for her to stand to her full height. It was lined with nesting boxes along one wall with roosting polls, and there was a small door at the bottom of the opposite wall that allowed the chickens into the outdoor pen when it was open. It seemed she had cleaned this place just in time.
Elyse hauled water from the pump with a pair of buckets that sloshed against her legs with each step and filled the two water dispensers while Ian hauled another three boxes of chickens into the coop. Then he filled the grain storage box with bags of chicken feed while Elyse opened the cardboard lids and set the poultry free. They were all different colors. Browns, reds, and black with white speckles and oh, they would make a lovely array of colored eggs for them to eat. They were mostly grown but still young chickens, and she laughed as the last box revealed four adolescent turkeys that were just getting their adult feathers in.
When she turned, Ian was staring at her lips with the most peculiar look on his face. Another wave of heat burned her cheeks, so she busied herself with breaking down the boxes to save for later use. Nothing went to waste around here.
With the chickens, turkeys, and one mean-ass rooster fed and settled, Elyse turned to offer Ian help with unloading his belongings, but the man had vanished like a ghost. And when she peeked outside the coop, he was backing his snow machine off the trailer and onto a ramp as though he’d done it a million times. Then he turned it for the barn and disappeared through the open sliding doors.
Okay then. Elyse meandered to his truck, pulled open the back door, and guffawed at what he’d brought. There were a couple of trash bags of what must be clothes, sure, but most of his belongings seemed to be old, second-hand tools. Limb cutters, a chainsaw, an ax, and a giant silver metal box of what was probably wrenches and the like, along with a tackle box and a pair of fishing poles.
When Cole had moved in last year, he’d brought a duffle bag with him. That was it.
Pleasure unfurled in her stomach as she enjoyed the difference of this time with Ian. He was bringing his get-shit-done belongings, as well as clothes. She could already imagine his ax near the chopping block and his tools in the barn. He was about to imprint himself into this place as surely as his ring was imprinting itself onto her finger.
With an emotional smile, she pulled the hard case of his chainsaw out of the back and hefted it toward the barn. Wait, what if he got mad at her for touching his stuff? Did men get possessive of their tools? Uncle Jim hadn’t, and she’d never seen Cole lift a hand to help so he wasn’t any indicator on normal male behavior. Josiah hadn’t ever minded her touching his stuff, but he was her brother and the patient sort. Maybe she should rush back and put this where she found it.
Ian strode from the barn and nodded to her. The corner of his lip lifted, and he said, “Thank you,” as he took the burden from her hands.
As he sauntered off, Elyse froze there with her empty palms out, then turned and went back for another load. And when the tools were all in the barn and she’d settled the ax blade into the chopping block, she rushed inside to do a speed clean while Ian was still busy in the barn. At least she’d found the energy to wash the dishes this morning, but she hadn’t set foot in the guest bedroom in months. She dusted the dresser, swept the rustic wooden floors, and then replaced the bedding with fresh linens. After angling and re-angling the rocking chair in the corner just so, she turned and let off a yelp as Ian stood right behind her with a quirk to his lips.
Her heart threatened to leap from behind her breastbone. How was a man so big and powerful so silent when he wanted to be? He stepped around her, so close she could smell his piney, masculine scent and feel warmth radiating off his skin.
Ian set his trash bag luggage on the bed. “This’ll do. I’ll unpack later, but I think you should eat.”
She thought about her now empty freezer, and shame, not shyness, heated her cheeks.
Ian narrowed his eyes and cocked his head suspiciously at her hesitation, then turned and strode out of the house, his heavy boots echoing against the floors. The creaking of the freezer sounded a moment later, and a muttered curse directly followed. And now Ian was back in the mouth of the room, his lips pursed in a thin, angry line. “Woman, what did you plan on eating today if I hadn’t a shown up?”
She ran her tongue over her teeth, stalling and debating whether to lie or not.
“The truth,” he demanded, as if he could read her mind.
“I picked some carrots.”
“Carrots?” The volume of his voice made her hunch her shoulders to her ears. “Why haven’t you been hunting and fishing?”
Anger snapped through her like a rubber band popped against her skin. “If you must know, I have been hunting and fishing, but I’m pretty shitty at it, so I haven’t got anything. Yet. And when I’m not out in the woods failing epically at hunting, I’m racing daylight running this place. None of this has been easy on me, you judgmental beast.”
“Judgmental beast, am I?” His animated eyebrows quirked up. “Fine. Since you have me so pegged, you’re too damned skinny.”
Elyse let off an offended sound. “Well, you’re too muscular and probably require eighteen thousand calories a day. I do not. I’m not skinny. I’m efficient.”
“Horseshit. I can see your bones poking out through your shirt, and your stomach’s been growling since I got here.”
She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest like a shield. His words hurt. There. There it was. Him calling her skinny burned her pride. Oh, she knew she’d lost weight. She was the one who saw herself withering away in the mirror, but Cole had taken all of her damned seed potatoes, bartered them for God knows what, and left her so low on everything she was struggling to get ahead. And she hadn’t lied. She was shit at hunting. That was one lesson Uncle Jim failed to teach her before he passed, and Josiah had never offered to show her how to track animals. She had more pride than to beg people to teach her something a good Alaskan woman ought to know by instinct.
Furious at Ian for being harsh, and even angrier with herself for caring, she brushed past him, knocking against his irritatingly firm arm, and strode for the living room. The rifles were hung on wall pets in the front corner beside the door, and she picked the one that recoiled the least, then stomped out of the house.
She made it deep into the woods before Ian’s voice called out from behind her. “Where are you going?”
She bit back a curse that he followed her. “Hunting. Obviously.”
“No, not obviously. What the fuck are you planning on taking with that pea shooter? It’s good for muskrat and ptarmigan. Rabbits maybe. And you’re rushing off pissed with no supplies and no pistol.”
“Why would I need a pistol, Ian? I have a rifle.”
“If you can call it that. And as to why you would need a pistol…slow down. Elyse Abram!”
“Stop calling me that!” she fumed, rounding on him. He backed up from her, step for step. Wise man.
“It’s your name.”
She s
hoved her ring finger in the air like she was flipping him off. “We’re engaged. You can drop my last name.”
A low rumble emanated from his chest.
“Did you just growl at me?”
“No.”
“Yes you did!”
“Give me the gun, and let’s go back to the house before you find a pack of wolves.”
“Piss off. I’m going to bring home dinner, honey.”
“I brought food with me. We don’t need to do this tonight and, anyway, it’ll be dark before you find any game. Just…” Ian grabbed the barrel of the gun over her shoulder and yanked. Only she wasn’t ready. He startled her, and she jerked the trigger.
A deafening boom echoed through the woods.
Ian’s bright eyes looked downright terrifying as he yanked the gun from her grasp. “Are you fucking kidding me? You had it loaded with the safety off? You could’ve killed yourself or somebody else.”
“I wasn’t pointing it anywhere near you or me. It was up in the air.”
“Gun safety basics, Elyse Abram. Safety on until you’re ready to pull that trigger, and furthermore, your finger shouldn’t even be on that trigger unless you have your intended target in the crosshairs. Now get your ass back to the cabin before I carry you my damned self. I’m mad enough to do it right now.”
Elyse gave him a slit-eyed glare. “You aren’t the boss of me.”
“I offered you the protection of my body when I gave you that ring. You aren’t going out into the wilderness when it’s this late in the day on a fool’s errand. Your kind can’t even see in the dark.”
“My kind? My kind? I suppose you mean women.” She poked him in the chest, but jammed her finger painfully, which only pissed her off more. Irrationally, she growled out, “I’ll have you know I was doing just fine before you came along.”
“Bullshit. You’re skin and bones.”
“Stop it!” Her lip trembled, and she bit it hard. “Don’t you know anything about being nice? If you have something mean to say, swallow it down, man. I get it. I’m too skinny for your liking, but this is the only body I have, and insulting it isn’t helping. You think I want to look like this? Do you even know what it’s taken to get this bad? I was pretty once, you arrogant sonofabitch.” Stupid tear as it tracked down her cheek and stupid tremor in her voice. Furious that he’d gotten her so riled up, she made her way around him and stepped over the knee-high grass, headed back home.
She used to be strong before Cole mishandled her. She never cried or worried over the opinions of men, and now she’d been reduced to tears by a stranger.
“Fuck,” Ian muttered from behind her, but if he was following, she couldn’t tell.
At the water pump, she dragged over the biggest bucket and began pumping the handle to get the water flowing. She filled the bucket nearly to the top and hauled the insanely heavy burden toward the horses’ shelter.
“Here, let me,” Ian said in a resolved voice as he slid his hand over hers to take the bucket.
“I can do it on my own. I have been for the past three years. Don’t worry. You don’t have to have a dick to do this kind of work, Ian. Women can do it, too.”
He released her hand and walked beside her. “I was wrong for the things I said.”
“Great. Forgiven. Fight one down, only sixty more years of me pissing you off to go.” Water sloshed all over the leg of her jeans and, great gads, it was cold, but she was used to it. She always fatigued at the end.
Demon and Milo waited at the fence for her as she hoisted the water bucket to her hip and dumped it through the fence into their trough. “And just so you know,” she said, clutching the bucket handle to steady her shaking hands. “I have goats. I was working my way up to…you know…killing one.”
Ian ghosted a glance toward the barn where the goats lived, then nodded his head. “I shouldn’t make snap judgements on things. I just don’t like how thin you’ve become.”
“How thin I’ve become? You’ve only seen me one other time, and I assure you, I’m not much worse off.”
Ian opened his mouth as if to say something, then snapped it closed again. He ran his hands through his hair and admitted, “I don’t know how to talk to girls.”
“You never had one before?”
He shook his head, and if she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn his cheeks were turning red.
“Well, you’ve just shocked me to my bones.”
Ian leaned on the fence and watched the horses drinking deeply. “How so?”
“Because I thought a man who looks like you would’ve been with a dozen girls, at least.”
Scrunching his face up, he glanced over at the sunrise and murmured, “I didn’t say I haven’t slept with women. I just mean that I haven’t had one of my own.” He turned those bright eyes on her. “To keep happy. You understand?”
“Are you backwoods?” Being raised in the wilderness without access to girls was the only thing that explained why a big, strapping, sexy-as-hell man like Ian Silver hadn’t held down a relationship with a woman.
He huffed a soft laugh. “You could say that. And just so you know, you aren’t too skinny for my liking. I think you’re pretty enough. I just don’t like thinking you’re hungry. I’ve been hungry before. It sucks.”
“Yeah it does,” she said on a sigh as she rested her chin on the fence and watched the sinking sun beside him. “And thanks for saying that. You didn’t have to.”
“What, that you’re pretty?”
She nodded slowly, her chin rubbing her protruding wrist bone.
Ian shook his head, whatever that meant, then said, “Come on. I’ll put a few more buckets of water in the trough. You go wash up, and I’ll get dinner on.” He picked up the bucket, then turned and walked away. “You smell like chicken shit,” he said over his shoulder.
Elyse snorted, but bit her lip to hide her amusement. She really did smell rough after cleaning out the coop. Ian was one lucky man to have landed such a fine woman as herself. “Sorry I almost shot you!” she called.
She couldn’t tell for sure from here, but his cheeks looked like they swelled with a smile as he walked away. “Forgiven. Only sixty more years to go.”
Chapter Seven
Ian had hurt her.
A few hours here and, already, he’d made her tear up. Even though she’d let him off the hook, his guts still felt all ripped up that he was the cause of any more hurt. This is why men like him had no business taking on a woman. They were soft, and he was all claws and teeth and grizzly moods.
He dumped a second giant can of beef stew into the pot and stirred.
The woman had taken to nesting worse than he did right before hibernation. While he’d unpacked the pallets of food he’d brought with him from the bed of his pickup, she’d swept the floors and thrown out the dead flowers from the vase that decorated the kitchen table. He was pretty sure she’d even cleaned the outhouse. There was running water here, but just barely since, according to Elyse, it was fed by a natural spring that wasn’t a huge producer. There was enough for a quick, trickling shower, but not enough for toilet flushes, so the outhouse was going to be part of life now.
“Is your heat oil?” he asked. Lame. God, he didn’t know how to talk to women.
Elyse bent down with the dust pan and scooped a mound of dirt into it. “I couldn’t afford the three thousand a year to do oil, so I’m all wood burning. I mean we’re. We’re all wood burning.” She stood, cheeks flushed in the soft glow of the lanterns hung around the room.
“I’ll need to start cutting as soon as possible then. You only have enough chopped to last you the first couple of weeks of snow. And I think we’re going to have to butcher at least one of your cows.”
“What? Why?” she asked as she dumped the dustpan’s contents out the back door. “I need those to sell. That’s where my money comes from. I’m not totally off the grid or subsistence. I buy some of the things I need, and I only have fifteen head of cattle left, if n
o predators have run off with any of them.”
“I thought you said your brother was watching them.”
“Part of the time. More like checks on them, but Josiah’s no range rider. He has a life of his own and a little piece of land he’s managing close to the summer grazing range.”
“Hmm,” Ian said low in his chest. That wasn’t good. Predators were thick around here, thanks to all the wilderness around them. Galena was nothing like Anchorage. It was population five-hundred, and other than sitting on the bank of the Yukon River, it was surrounded by the Alaskan wilds. It was a wonder Elyse had any cattle left.
As if she could hear his thoughts, she said quietly, “When my uncle was alive and running this place, he had eighty cattle. It’s hard thinking about losing any more of his herd.”
“It’s not about the meat, Elyse.” Ian banged the extra stew off the spoon on the side of the pan and moved the boiling meal off the burner. “I looked at your hay, and if we cut it at peak time, when it will give the most nutrition to your animals—”
“Our animals.”
Ian sighed and leaned against the natural wood counter. “It won’t be enough to get a herd that big through the winter. Honestly, we need to butcher one or two and maybe even sell off a couple more. If you want to build the herd next warm season, then we need to figure out how to purchase more later, but we can’t feed what we have now. Not with that little hay.”
“I worked my ass off to plant that. Josiah helped, but most of that was me.”
Ian hated the disappointment on her face. He got it. Right now she was thinking about how hard she’d worked. She’d probably bled and sweated all over that field, and here he came, telling her the work wasn’t enough. “Next year will be different,” he said softly. “If you still want me around after this winter, we’ll get more hay planted, and I’ll buy you more cattle, okay? Between you and me and Josiah, we’ll get you where you want to be.”