by Maisey Yates
“I don’t see why it’s a relenting thing.”
“Because I have... It’s my winery,” she said. “You just said it. And...”
“And you’re still scared of being unconventional?”
Lindy frowned. “I am not. I married my ex-husband’s former client. I live on a dude ranch. I’m not scared of being unconventional.”
“Just a little bit.”
“Well, you’re afraid of having to sit around here and sort out your feelings.”
It was his turn to scowl. “I’m not afraid.”
“Yes, you are. You’re afraid that if you sit here for too long you might have to sort some things out. Because as long as you keep moving, you get to hook up with women you’ll never see again, stay in motels you’ll never have to sleep in again. You’re running, Dane. And that’s really what you want to do.”
“No,” he said, standing up and shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not running. Any more than you are hiding at the winery. That’s what it’s like. It would be like asking you to give that up. Your life’s work.”
“And the very idea of that used to terrify me,” Lindy said. “Because the winery was everything I was. It was everything I had. I had such a hard time with Mom. She could never let it go. That I had decided to marry Damien. That I was so weak I had to take a man’s money. You know how she felt about that. She thought she was right and good because she refused to take anything from Dad. Because she turned him away enough times that he quit coming back altogether. She thought that I was wrong. And so I clung to all of my reasonings. To everything I had achieved with that marriage, because it was all that I had. But it’s not all I have now. And if I lost the winery tomorrow my life would still be full. I don’t want to lose it. It’s important to me, and it matters. But it’s not everything now. I’m sorry that you’re injured. I’m sorry. But, if you let life around here mean more to you then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much, the fact that you lost that other life. Maybe you wouldn’t need it quite so badly.”
As far as he could tell, life here was a disaster for him. Working at his brother-in-law’s ranch, lusting after the much-younger-and-sweeter Bea and living in his sister’s house. About the only thing that seemed to mean anything right now was the sanctuary. Because at least that was building something. But that was with Bea, and it didn’t feel sane at the moment.
“Next time,” Dane said, turning to head out of the mess hall. “Just ask me about my leg.”
He turned and left his sister sitting there, ignoring the pain shooting through his leg and the heaviness in his chest as he went outside and went to work.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BEA HAD SPENT the day researching permits.
She was going to have to get some in order to start the sanctuary, she knew that much. And she would need building permits for the barns. Also, there were various hoops to jump through when it came to gaining nonprofit status. By the time she was finished looking at all of that she was exhausted.
But she also had studying to do, so that meant she couldn’t be done.
Not for the first time she wondered if she was an idiot for deciding to open the sanctuary before she finished getting her certification.
But the more she thought about it, the more she felt like everything fit together. She was getting her training, and she already knew enough to provide basic medical care. It was a lot to take on, but if she waited, she might miss out on some animals in need.
She had spent a good portion of the morning on the phone with a woman who ran a dog rescue that she had volunteered at in the past. They talked a lot about her start-up costs and the ways that she went about running the facility, and the various grants that she had gotten over the years.
Beatrix felt empowered and determined. But still also a little bit sleepy.
For someone who had avoided this kind of work for most of her life, she’d sure gone and thrown herself in the deep end now.
Like she was making up for lost time.
She flopped down on her bed and opened up her animal anatomy textbook. There was a test coming up on the subject, and while Beatrix had a pretty innate sense for what hurt on an animal and what it might mean, she certainly hadn’t known the scientific names for everything.
She did now.
She read until her stomach started to growl, and she was about to get up when she heard the sound of a hammer coming from outside. She pushed her bedroom window open and looked out, into the trees, where she saw Dane attacking the chicken coop.
“I didn’t know you were coming today,” she shouted.
“It needs to get finished,” he said. “Aren’t your chickens coming soon?”
“Yes,” she responded. “But I thought you might want a day off.” The wind blew straight through the window, crisp pine and earth filling her senses. She pushed her curls off her face and peered through the trees at Dane.
“I’ll take a day off when this is finished,” he shouted back.
Beatrix frowned and shut the window, heading toward the kitchen and snagging an apple. She paused, went back and took another one out of the bowl. Dane might be hungry too. An apple wasn’t going to get either of them very far, but it was better than nothing.
She pushed the front door open and jogged down the path that wound behind the cabin and to the chicken coop. He was studying the door, a level set on top of the door frame. The bubbles were off center and he was tweaking and adjusting, the muscles in his forearms shifting as he did.
She swallowed hard. “I appreciate this. But I really don’t want you to overwork yourself.”
He shot her a deadly glare. “I just need everyone to stop trying to baby me.”
She frowned. “You don’t look so good.”
“I had a rough night. I was hungover. But that’s not really related to whether or not I should take it easy.”
She blinked. “It’s four in the afternoon.”
“I worked at Get Out of Dodge all day.”
“And so you immediately thought you should come attach a door to my chicken coop.” He was a fool. But he was here. She appreciated that.
“Yes,” he said. “I did.”
She sighed and took a few steps toward him, holding the apple out. He jerked backward, his eyes narrowing, chin tilting down as his shoulders rose up. Like she’d held a spider out toward him and not a nice piece of fruit.
“Apple?” she asked.
In fractions, his shoulders lowered, his posture going back to its typical set. “In my remembrance of the story it’s not Snow White who goes around offering apples.”
She frowned, trying to parse the meaning of that. “Do you think I’m trying to poison you?”
He didn’t say anything. He reached out and took the fruit from her, taking a slow, deliberate bite that she felt somehow. “Not poison.”
“Tempt?” She shrugged. “It’s the only other thing I can think of that an apple is famous for.”
He huffed out a laugh, then set the apple down on the top of his toolbox and continued to work.
She watched in silence for a moment, until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Until just looking at his movements had started creating a strange sensation beneath her skin. “I’m going to start applying for permits on Monday.”
He flicked her a glance. “Did Lindy agree to your plan?”
Beatrix bit the inside of her cheek. “Not exactly. But, acquiring permits can be a pretty lengthy process, so I figure I had better get started on paperwork now.”
“Do you need any help?”
She bristled slightly. “Dane, I said that I was moving forward getting permits. You think I need help filling out basic paperwork?”
“I’m trying to be helpful,” he said. “The fact of the matter is I might need to do some work that’s not quite so intense the next few days. I kind
of did a number on myself recently. A little bit of paperwork might be what the doctor ordered.”
Beatrix felt slightly mollified by that. “I suppose that could be helpful. I do have a lot to do.” And more sit-down-and-read time might send her over the edge.
“Just send over the things that you found,” he said, waving a hand. “I’m sure your info is solid, I can just put it all together. Unless you’re afraid the dumb rodeo rider can’t figure it out.”
“Not even a little,” she said. “Thank you.” She felt mildly surprised that he so easily accepted that she knew what she was talking about. What she was doing.
It occurred to her then that Dane never really gave her advice.
It was kind of a stunning realization.
He had never treated her like an adult or a child really. He treated her...well, like no one else. He didn’t talk down to her. He didn’t act like the things she did with the animals were some delightful quirk to be indulged or ignored depending on the moment.
She remembered a couple of Christmases ago when she’d found three baby green herons that had been thrown out of their nest. It had been Dane who had immediately helped her get the supplies she needed to get the poor little birds hydrated.
It had been Dane who had abandoned the conversation that had been going on. Dane who had treated it like a serious situation.
He could also be an ass. Dismissive and stubborn. But not more to her than he was to anyone else.
She cleared her throat, but Dane didn’t look up from his work. “My dad used to talk business over dinner. Constantly. And there were invariably issues with permits during the period of time when they were expanding the winery. My dad is not fond of the way the county runs, and he’ll be the first to tell you that.” She shifted. “I absorbed a lot of that. Even though I thought it was boring at the time. I’m surprised how much of it I remember now, actually.”
Dane shook his head. “I don’t know anything about all that. I’ve never had to...learn about it. All I’ve ever had to do is fling myself around on the back of a wild animal and hope that the thing couldn’t get me off. And then if he did, that he didn’t step on me.”
“Don’t say it like that,” she said. “Like it didn’t take skill. Or determination. It did.”
She realized another thing when those words rolled off her tongue. That Dane was one of the few people she really got to take care of. And even though he was surly about it, he let her.
He picked up the fruit again and took another bite. She found herself captivated by the way his mouth moved when he chewed. The way his Adam’s apple moved up and down. There were so many things in her life that she had wanted. And she had gone about getting them in different ways.
Beatrix had never liked the word impossible, and yet she had stuck it easily onto Dane.
But he didn’t treat her like everyone else did. He didn’t treat her like anyone else did.
And she didn’t feel for him the way she felt for anyone else.
He looked over at her, as if he had just suddenly realized she was staring. The air between them got thick again, and she wondered for a moment why it was that this had happened twice while they’d been eating. It seemed weird.
But she couldn’t explain it away either.
She didn’t want to.
She had wanted to run from it the other day. In fact, she had. She had positioned herself so that she could take shelter by running errands with McKenna and Jamie. Because the moment she had thought the attraction between the two of them might in some way go both ways it had startled her.
Her feelings for Dane had been one of those closely cherished secrets that she liked. One that concerned only her. Because she had decided quite some time ago that nothing would ever happen between them.
She remembered what Kaylee had said. That something would change. Whether with him or not, something would shift. Like the wind turning the tide.
This was a change. Because three days ago nothing like this had ever happened between them. They never had a long, silent moment that felt anything but comfortable. This wasn’t comfortable. It was charged.
Bea had no experience with men, but she had experience with Dane. She had experience in her own body. She was smart enough to know when things were different.
Working with animals meant being conscious of body language. Animals couldn’t speak, so you had to look for signs in other ways. Dane’s body language was different right now.
He was tense. And he was watching her. Like she might be a predator. It was the most abnormal experience of her entire life.
That she, Beatrix Leighton, might seem even remotely predatory to a man like Dane Parker. She was going to need some time to process that.
Or maybe she wouldn’t process it. Maybe she would just look at him.
She took a step forward without really thinking, and he lowered his hand, the hammer still in it. “Beatrix,” he said, his voice taking on a warning tone.
He was warning her. About what? She wanted to know. She very much wanted to know.
“Why don’t I hold this steady while you finish hanging it,” she said, curving her fingers around the door frame and standing there.
A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he cleared his throat. “Right. Sure.”
He moved to straighten out the chicken wire and their fingertips brushed. Beatrix felt it like a kick straight to her stomach, when those rough, calloused fingers made contact with hers. The air seemed to rush out of Dane in one hard gust. And that he had a reaction at all was fascinating.
She looked down at his hands and felt much the same. They were scarred, hard and, she knew now, rough against her skin.
And this time, when they touched, he reacted too. She remembered a couple of weeks ago when she’d handed him that pain pill, and she’d reacted like this to them touching then, but he hadn’t.
Something had changed. Something had shifted.
He worked silently, quickly, and she took the opportunity to stare at him.
The way his forehead creased as he concentrated on getting everything just so.
The way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he concentrated, his sun-weathered skin enticing and fascinating. An endless map of the expressions he’d made in the past. A key to who he was.
She wanted to know him better all of a sudden.
Really know him. Not just the man she had always looked up to and admired. But the man who had fallen off the bull. The man who had been trampled.
The actual man, and not the aspirational figure.
He continued on his work, finishing up quickly, then calling Joe back toward the truck without saying much.
“Are you going?” she asked.
“I better,” he said. “I’m bushed.”
“Do you want to stay and get some dinner?”
He shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“Should I go over to the house with you and help you get dinner?”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“You look like you need someone to bring you a beer.” And frankly, she wanted to keep advancing on him. If she was a predator.
“Beatrix,” he said. “I’m tired. I want to go home. Alone.”
She blinked twice, and watched his retreating figure as he got into the truck and started the engine.
He was running away. He was running away, and that fact would wound her if it didn’t lead her to a couple of different conclusions. The first being that you didn’t run from something if it didn’t scare you.
Bea had never thought of herself as being particularly scary.
Which meant that it wasn’t her. It was that thing that had changed.
And that made her even more certain than she had been before that Dane Parker was attracted to her. And he was...
Well, he was doing something. Protecting her
from it?
Maybe.
She had spent an awfully long time protecting herself from it.
And not acting on it would be a continuation of that. But she was doing things now. She was committing to this sanctuary and advocating for it. She was getting the vet tech certification. She was...
She wasn’t letting all of it live inside of her anymore. She wanted more. She wanted people to see her as more. She’d spent a lot of years being perfectly content with her invisibility, but the problem with invisibility was that it was useful until it wasn’t. If she really wanted to be treated differently then she had to act differently. And ask for something different.
Maybe that would extend to Dane too.
One thing was certain, when Beatrix Leighton set her mind to something she found a way to make it happen.
She just had to decide what exactly she was going to set her mind on.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Here’s a link to the forms I found, plus some other info.
DANE LOOKED DOWN at his texts, his thumb hovering over the link attached to the message Bea had sent, when another message followed immediately.
Also my chickens are coming.
He hadn’t spoken to Bea since last night. He’d just needed a break. From the tension that had sprung up between the two of them. Tension that had gotten so strong and thick that he didn’t think it was even a question anymore.
They both felt it. But God knew there was no point doing a damned thing about it.
She was Bea. Beatrix, for heaven’s sake.
He said that to himself like it should mean something, and for the life of him his body couldn’t figure out anymore why the hell that should dissuade him.
He was saying no. That was enough.
He picked up his phone and responded.
Congrats on the chickens. I’ll look into these permits right away.
He didn’t get a response immediately, so he clicked the link to the paperwork, realizing quickly he wasn’t going to be able to do this work on his phone.
His sister had a computer that was still in the house, and he’d been using it for his own purposes when necessary. Not that he often had use for a computer. He sat down and typed the web address into the browser, and started to go through all the information. It was pretty straightforward. Except they’d need a name for the sanctuary, they’d have to register it, get a tax ID number and get it all registered with the secretary of state. But there was no reason they couldn’t get this started at the same time.
