by Ari McKay
Stone had been at the ranch for almost a month now, and things were really starting to make sense to him. He might lack a bit on book learning, but he could balance ledgers and write letters just fine, especially with Luke’s help.
The thought of Luke made Stone frown, but not because the man had done anything wrong. On the contrary, Luke was the very model of a perfect ranch foreman; he could do anything the hands could do, and he could give the men orders and they’d listen to him. He could charm even the most sullen cowboy into smiling, and where Stone might have been tempted to get angry, Luke was patient and humorous, and it had a much better effect on the men.
The problem was that Luke made Stone feel things he had no business feeling.
It was hard enough being a quarter Pawnee in a white man’s world, but being a man who didn’t care for women, well, that was a crime in most folks’ books. He couldn’t let it get out of hand, because they both had too much to lose.
As Stone turned down one aisle, he stopped suddenly, having almost run into a tall, thin woman with mousy brown hair. She was dressed well, but nothing could hide that she wasn’t padded the way most men preferred women to be, and her face was plain and freckled. Yet she smiled at him with sweetness, and Stone nodded to her, recognizing Mrs. Wilson’s daughter, Agnes.
“Morning, ma’am,” he greeted her, hoping she wasn’t about to gush an invitation to dinner at him the way her mother had. So far, Luke had managed to keep all the matrons and their daughters at bay, but he was outside getting the supplies loaded in the wagon, and Stone was on his own.
“Good morning.” Agnes held out her hand, her gaze direct and friendly, without any of the coy simpering he’d seen from some of the local gals. He took her hand, and her grip was firm and surprisingly solid. “You’re Mr. Harrison, of course. And no doubt you know I’m Agnes Wilson.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Stone released her hand and fumbled for something to say. “Luke pointed you out to me at church.”
Agnes nodded. “I do hope Mama has stopped pestering you about dinner.” Her smile became slightly crooked. “She’s a darling, really, but she just won’t give up until she finds me a husband, whether he wants to be found or not. I’m sorry if she’s bothered you.”
The directness surprised Stone, but he was comfortable with people who didn’t play games with words, and he found himself comfortable with her. “Well, Miss Agnes, a lot of the mamas in town seem to be of the same mind, so you don’t need to apologize.”
That made her chuckle, her brown eyes dancing in genuine amusement. “I hope they haven’t overwhelmed you. You’re a ranch owner, and that makes you a prime target. Just hold your ground unless you find a girl you really do like. If you give an inch, you’ll probably find yourself standing in front of the preacher before you know what happened.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “To be honest, I’ve seen more than one groom at the altar on his wedding day looking a little confused about how he got there.”
Despite his innate reserve, Stone grinned. “Serenity ain’t the only place it happens,” he confided. “I reckon mamas are the same all over.”
“I reckon they are.”
Luke strolled up to the two of them, regarding them curiously. “Mornin’, Miss Agnes,” he added, touching his hat politely. “I beg your pardon for interruptin’, but we got the wagon loaded up, and I came to see if Mr. Harrison needed an extra hand.”
Stone looked at Luke, unable to help noticing the curve of his lips as he smiled at Agnes Wilson. “I’m about done.” He tore his gaze away, looking back to Agnes. “Miss Agnes and I were just havin’ a little talk.”
“Good morning, Luke.” Agnes smiled in a friendly fashion. “I hope you’re doing well.”
“Can’t complain much, although my new boss here does run me ragged,” Luke teased, and as he turned to look at Stone, the polite friendliness he showed to Agnes deepened into warmth, and his smile widened.
Stone felt his face heating up, as it usually did when Luke teased him in front of other people, and his reply was gruff. “Only because I have to keep you busy and out of mischief.”
Agnes glanced between the two of them, one eyebrow raised in surprise, but then she smiled. “He’s got you there, Luke,” she said primly. “Which shows Mr. Harrison is a very insightful man.”
Luke laughed, obviously not taking any offense to his teasing being turned back on him. “That he is,” he agreed, eyes alight with amusement. “He may not say much, but he don’t miss nothin’.”
“I can see that.” Agnes nodded to them. “Well, I won’t keep you, gentlemen. I know you must be anxious to get back to the ranch.” She rested her hand on Stone’s arm. “And don’t worry, Mr. Harrison. Mama won’t be bothering you about dinner again. I’ll make certain of it.”
Stone was surprised, but he wasn’t about to look at a gift horse in the mouth. “Why, thank you, Miss Agnes. I—um—I mean—”
Agnes shook her head and patted his arm before stepping back. “Oh you haven’t hurt my feelings, Mr. Harrison. As it so happens, I’m not looking to get married, at least not right now. I suspect I’ll know the right man when I see him, if I ever do. No amount of wishing and hoping by my mama is going to make you interested in me anyway, and I’d rather have you as a friend, like Luke, than dreading the sight of me. Now then, I’ll see you gentlemen on Sunday at church.”
With another sweet smile at them, she gathered her skirts and turned away. Stone looked after her in surprise, and then he turned to Luke. “That’s one smart lady.”
Luke watched her go, his expression speculative. “That she is,” he agreed, glancing at Stone. “Some man’s goin’ to be right lucky to have her one day.”
Stone nodded. If he had been interested in women, Agnes Wilson would have been at the top of his list, no matter what she looked like. There was something wrong with the men in this town if they couldn’t recognize what a catch she was. “Guess we’d better get back to the ranch. Still a lot to do before the snow flies.”
They headed toward the counter, and Stone had the feeling he’d somehow managed to make a friend in Agnes.
7
LUKE was tired after a long day in the saddle, but it was a good sort of tired, one he welcomed as a respite from all the necessary bookwork he and Stone had been poring over of late. They were on the back end of November, which meant the grazing season was over, and the ranch wouldn’t have a steady income for a few months, not even from the copper mine. The bank account was padded comfortably enough they wouldn’t have to quibble over pennies, but Luke was thrifty, and he never liked seeing more money going out than was coming in. He’d be a lot happier when spring rolled around and they would sell cattle and horses at the market and begin working in the mine again.
Stone didn’t seem happy about it either, but Luke explained winter was a time to hunker down, trying to reassure himself as much as Stone. It was a time to make sure the fences held, and the livestock survived, and not much else. It was too cold and dangerous to send anyone into the mines, and riding the fence was more dangerous at this time of year than any other, considering how a storm could blow in and take a man unawares.
Today, however, they’d put the ledgers aside and ridden out to check the fence near the lake. It had been repaired over the summer, and Luke wanted to make sure it was holding up. If there were repairs to be made or patching to be done, he wanted it done sooner rather than later to prepare for the long, cold months ahead.
Together, he and Stone had covered more ground than he thought they would, which pleased him. They made a good team, he thought as he glanced over at Stone, who was working in silence, as usual. If he’d learned anything over the last few weeks, it was that the two of them definitely weren’t two peas in a pod. To his mind, they were more like salt and pepper: different flavors, but both necessary to make a good meal. And he thought they would be spicy as hell in bed, but so far, it was wishful thinking on his part.
He grabbed a hoof pick and
lifted Mist’s left foreleg, focusing on cleaning her hoof before he got caught staring at Stone like a calf-eyed idiot. He’d been teasing and flirting a little, trying to show Stone how interested he was without pushing too hard, but either Stone didn’t see it or he didn’t want to see it. Sometimes, Luke thought he saw a glimmer of awareness in those dark eyes, but it never went anywhere, and Luke had been a lot friendlier with his right hand lately thanks to Stone Harrison.
Sometimes, he wondered if it would be worth the risk to grab Stone, kiss him, and see if maybe that got the message across loud and clear since being subtle hadn’t worked worth a damn, but as skittish as Stone was, he’d probably bolt. No, Luke would have to be patient and wear him down until he was ready to see how good it could be between them. Until then, Luke saw a lot more buckets of ice-cold well water in his future.
“Doin’ all right, boss?” He knew if there was going to be any talk between them, he’d have to start it. “I didn’t work you too hard today, did I?” he added with a grin to show he was teasing.
“That’ll be the day,” Stone replied mildly. He was brushing Raider’s coat, taking his time about it as though he really enjoyed the task. “I’ve ridden more miles of fence than I care to think about, and most of it was in far worse shape.” He looked over his shoulder at Luke. “You do a good job keepin’ things fixed up. I bet my aunt would be pleased.”
Luke paused to watch Stone run the brush along Raider’s side and follow it with his hand, his long fingers caressing the horse with obvious affection, and Luke tried hard not to feel jealous of a damned horse. But if Stone liked touching enough to enjoy brushing a horse that much, Luke could only imagine what he’d be like with another person.
“I hope she would,” he replied at last. “But Copper Lake is my home, too, and I take pride in what’s mine. My name ain’t on the deed, but as long as I’m foreman here, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
“True.” Stone stopped brushing Raider, turning around to face Luke, his expression pensive. “I sure couldn’t run this place without you. I just hope I’m pullin’ my weight.”
“You’re doin’ fine.” Luke lowered Mist’s foreleg carefully. “Especially for someone who didn’t know beans about running a ranch a couple of months ago. You can’t expect to learn it all in a few weeks.”
Stone shrugged, but his lips quirked up in a tiny smile Luke had come to recognize meant he was pleased. “I’m tryin’. Guess I never thought I’d ever be nothin’ but a cowboy.”
Luke thought Stone had probably been more than just a cowboy even when he was a cowboy. Though Stone had been tight-lipped about his past, Luke had picked up on enough to understand Stone hadn’t had an easy time of it. He was a smart, hard-working man who’d never had the chance to show what he was capable of, but Copper Lake was changing all that, and Luke aimed to help him use the untapped potential he’d been carrying around.
“Well, I guess you were wrong about that,” Luke replied. “But you’ll do all right. You ain’t afraid of gettin’ your hands dirty, and that’s good. Too many men would feel like they’d been dropped into the lap of luxury, but runnin’ a place like this takes hard work from everybody, not just the hands.”
That earned him a smile. “Wouldn’t know what to do with luxury anyway.” Stone put the brush back on its shelf, picked up a cloth and a bottle of oil, and set about working on his saddle. “Seems it might be dull. Not enough to do.”
“Oh I don’t know,” Luke drawled, deciding he’d gone long enough without teasing Stone a little bit. He enjoyed seeing Stone blush; he’d never seen anything more becoming on a man or woman in his life, and it made him want to nuzzle Stone’s rosy cheeks. “I can think of a few leisure-time activities that wouldn’t be dull at all. Well, if they’re done right, that is.”
Stone looked up, and Luke saw the desired flush rising on his cheeks and the confusion in his eyes. It was as if Stone thought Luke might be hinting at what he actually was, but Stone was either unwilling or afraid to believe it. Or maybe he was afraid to act on it, since he’d been careful not to admit openly his preferences were just like Luke’s.
Finally, Stone made a noncommittal sound and reached for the bottle of Neatsfoot oil, but in an uncharacteristically clumsy move, he knocked it over, splattering it all over the arm and chest of his blue shirt.
“Damn,” he muttered in annoyance as he mopped up the spillage with the cloth he’d been using on his saddle. He put the cork back in the bottle and began to unbutton his shirt. “Mary’s goin’ to kill me.”
And you’re goin’ to kill me, Luke thought dazedly as he followed the path of Stone’s fingers down the front of his shirt, watching eagerly for a hint of bare skin.
“Yeah, that one might have to go straight to the rag bag.” Luke had to force the words past the dryness in his throat. “If the weather’s clear, you can go into town and buy a new shirt tomorrow, though.”
Stone slipped the shirt off his shoulders. Luke saw Stone’s torso was almost as dark as his forearms, and he had very little body hair anywhere in sight. His shoulders were broad, and he had a few scars that stood out prominently, lighter in hue than his skin.
“Maybe I can get it out,” he said, fetching a bucket of water from the trough. He picked up the saddle soap and dipped it in the bucket along with his shirt. “Hate to waste a good shirt.”
“I think there’s an old washboard the hands use around here somewhere.” Luke had to tear his gaze away from the sight of Stone’s muscles working beneath his smooth skin. There wasn’t any sense in torturing himself by looking at what he couldn’t touch, he reminded himself sternly as he went to find the washboard and brought it back to Stone. “Here, maybe this’ll help.”
“Thanks.” Stone had put the bucket on the workbench, and as he reached out to take the washboard, their eyes met. Stone went still, staring at him as though he was reading something on Luke’s face, and for the first time, the awareness in Stone’s eyes was more than just a faint spark. There was no mistaking the sudden flare of heat in that dark gaze or the way Stone’s breathing suddenly sped up.
Luke wasn’t sure he could look away even if he’d wanted to, but he didn’t; he was losing himself in the depths of Stone’s eyes, captive and captivated all at once, and he didn’t want to be set free. Oh Lord, he thought with a silent groan, I’ve gone and fallen for him! It was quite possibly the most stupid thing he’d ever done, but it was too late now. He was well and truly hooked, and he had no choice but to keep on trying to hook Stone in return.
“Any time, boss.” He licked his dry lips as he released the washboard, but not Stone’s gaze. Whatever Stone was seeing in his face, well, it was too late to hide it now, and he didn’t care to try.
There was a flicker in Stone’s eyes, and then Stone took a step toward him, close enough that Luke could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. Stone moved like a wolf stalking his prey, and he lifted his hand and reached out as though he might be about to touch Luke’s face.
The moment was shattered by a sound at the stable door at the far end, a laugh and the dull thud of hooves as some of the hands returned from their chores. A shutter slammed down over Stone’s face, and he abruptly turned away, plunging the washboard into the bucket and scrubbing at his shirt with unusual vigor.
“Damn it,” Luke muttered as he, too, turned away and suppressed the urge to shoot dire glares at the hands who had destroyed the first promising sign Stone was responding to him.
It wasn’t their fault; it was just bad timing, and Luke released a quiet sigh, glancing wistfully at Stone, who seemed intent on ignoring his presence entirely, as if to make up for the momentary lapse. They had a long winter ahead of them and plenty of nights alone in the big house. Luke would be patient and wait, and the next time, he’d make damned sure there wouldn’t be any hands barging in to interrupt.
8
STONE stepped out the kitchen door, his gaze moving to the sky as he scanned the pale gray expanse. He didn�
�t like the look of it or the way the wind was kicking up out of the west. Not at all. They’d had a few light snowfalls in the last three weeks, but nothing had stuck around for more than a couple of days. The hands were glad, since the mild, dry weather made their jobs a lot easier.
He pulled his collar up around his ears to block the breeze and headed toward the wood pile to fetch more for the fireplace. The temperature was dropping slowly, not quite at freezing though the wind made it feel a lot colder. No one seemed too concerned except for Stone. Something about the way the wind smelled warned him a bad blow might be coming.
“Don’t be stupid,” he muttered. He’d spent most of his life farther south and not so near the mountains, so he wasn’t used to the vagaries of the weather in these parts. But he remembered his mother teaching him you could tell when a storm was coming by the way the air smelled: the sharp tang of a thunderstorm or the dry, almost dusty smell of a blizzard. He looked back over his shoulder at the mountains, looming clear and close under the cloud cover. There was snow on their slopes, but not much, and mostly in the shady spots where the sun couldn’t reach. The mountains didn’t look worried, so he told himself to forget the way his nose itched and get on with the chores. He had enough to do with Luke out taking care of a break in the fence where a big tree had fallen on the far side of the lake and taken down a large section of wire.
By rights, Stone should be out there helping, but he’d started going out with different hands on his rounds of riding fence, telling Luke he needed to get to know the other men better. Luke had given him a wry glance but hadn’t protested, although Stone suspected Luke knew exactly why he was doing it. It was why Stone had told Luke he could handle the books on his own now and why he’d started going up to bed earlier in the evenings; Stone was afraid of what might happen if he was alone with Luke too long.