“I saw how Jonah looked at you. I’m just sayin’.”
She rolled her eyes. “Which bed do you want?”
“Bridge, I mean it, no boys.”
She stiffened her back. “Spencer, you really know how to piss a girl off, don’t you? Trust me, my focus is a little preoccupied at the moment.”
We unpacked as best we could and I noticed there wasn’t a TV or pretty much anything of convenience really.
“We’re going to have to make a list,” I said, stepping back out into the cold.
Bridge closed the door behind her and ran to the truck. We drove back to the main house when Ellie asked us to. The ranch seemed pretty quiet from what we could tell, except for a few guys here and there. One in particular was on a horse and heading toward the barn. He looked like he might have been Native American, but his features appeared mixed. The only confirmation I could get was that he had a long ponytail at the base of his neck wrapped in leather.
“Hummina-hummina-hummina,” Bridge joked.
“No,” I reiterated.
“I can look,” she laughed.
We parked where we had before and made our way up the wood stairs. I dragged my hand over the smooth wooden handrail. I couldn’t believe how smooth the wood was. We knocked on the main door and stood hopping in our boots while we waited for someone to answer. We saw Ellie run toward us and swing open one of the double doors.
“Sorry, we usually enter through the side door. It’s closer to the dining hall.”
We walked in and took in the expanse of the main room. It was larger than our own main room back home. I’d failed to gauge just how large the home was from the outside because it was overshadowed by the surrounding mountains. The walls were covered in Indian blankets and stuffed animal heads. In the middle of the thirty-foot ceiling dangled a large antler chandelier.
It’s all Petticoat Junction and shit in here, I thought as I looked around. I unknowingly slapped my hands together and rubbed them back and forth. I let Ellie think it was about the cold. Now, if I could only find a Bobbie Jo.
Just then, across the main room, entering from some sort of back door, a small figure emerged. She closed the door behind her after a large German shepherd mix shook out his coat and sat panting beside her. Time seemed to stand still as she stomped the snow off her rubber riding boots and removed her large jacket and gloves, revealing the shapeliest body I’d seen in years. She had these long gray socks under her boots that rose to just below the knee over her skintight jeans. My eyes traveled up.
I took in a red plaid button-up fitted to her like a glove. My stomach clenched waiting for her face, but she seemed to take forever unwrapping her scarf. Round and round and round her hand went, but she turned right when I could have gotten a good look. I cursed her under my breath. I felt this inexplicable urge to run over to her and turn her around.
She hung up her scarf next to her jacket and pulled her cap off her head. She shook out chin-length straight dark black hair then ran her hands throughout its length, smoothing out any knots. She bent over, sending me reeling and unzipped the long zippers on the backs of her rubber boots, stepping out of them and landing on the floor in her socks.
I discovered that she was the cutest, sexiest little thing I’d ever seen, and I hadn’t even seen her face yet.
She began to turn and I held my breath in anticipation.
Holy. Shit.
The full sight of her nearly blew me over. I felt this punch to my gut and chest I’d never felt before, not even with Sophie. My hand went to my heart as if I could stop its pounding. This girl was beyond stunning. A French cut bob on a heart-shaped face. Her cheeks glowed a bright pink from the cold, highlighting her high cheekbones. Her eyebrows arched perfectly over big, bright round eyes with the longest lashes I’ve ever seen on a chick. Her mouth formed a perfect moue. Her pouty lips were fuller on the bottom. Her button nose was straight and so soft looking I wanted to kiss it more than anything in the world. I would have paid a million dollars in that moment to do just that. I felt like a perfect tool just for thinking it.
She was pixie-like in her stature as well, standing, maybe, five foot three. She stepped forward, no, stretched forward like a dancer, and smoothed her hands down her hair once more. I sucked in a breath, not realizing I already hadn’t.
That’s when she noticed us and smirked a little, betraying a cleverness I didn’t think could be conveyed with a single facial expression. She stalked toward us looking altogether innocent yet at the same time very dangerous. She was punk met West, like Christina Ricci met Annie Get Your Gun. This girl looked feisty.
“Ah, Cricket,” Ellie said, wrapping her arm around the girl’s shoulders.
This was Cricket?! I felt bowled over. This girl was August’s cousin? I’d always assumed she was a dude. No wonder Jonah laughed.
“Grandma,” she acknowledged, eyeing me with a hooded tiger’s gaze. She had her grandmother’s cerulean eyes.
“Cricket, this is Spencer Blackwell and his sister Bridget.”
“Nice to meet you,” she purred.
Roll that tongue up, buddy. Drool is unattractive. Cricket winked at me like she could read my thoughts and I almost fell backward. I smiled. Cheeky little minx.
Yeah, feisty was a perfect word for her.
I watched her bounce on the balls of her feet, smiling, and fiddling with the bottom hem of her shirt. She gestured with her hands a lot. Her fingers were slender and topped with a deep purple. She kept them short. I liked girls with short nails. They looked more feminine to me than when worn long. Her hair shook back and forth when she talked, her short bangs resting across her brows. She would occasionally blow at them then smooth them back down with her hands. When she laughed, she laughed with her entire body, throwing her head back and revealing dimples at her cheeks.
My God, I was so attracted to this chick. I couldn’t even pin it down to one thing. If you took everything I’d ever found hot, beautiful in a girl and piled them into a corner, you’d get Cricket Hunt...standing in a corner.
I stood, staring at her for God only knows how long until Bridge elbowed me. “Did you hear that, Spence?” she gritted.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, genuinely lost.
Her eyes bugged a little at me, silently telling me to get my head in the game. “Ellie was saying that Kalispell’s close by. I was telling her we’d need to go into town for a few things, find a doctor and a bank.”
“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat, then glancing my way back to Cricket. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. “We need to find a bank and a doctor for Bridge,” I said absently, my eyes finding Ellie then moving immediately back to Cricket.
Bridge rolled her eyes.
“Well, dinner’s right through here,” Ellie added cheerfully. She took Bridge’s arm and guided her down a wide hall, leaving Cricket and me alone.
I smiled idiotically because this girl sucked all the mojo out of me.
“I-uh-I...” Smooth.
Cricket’s eyes widened in disbelief, probably because I couldn’t string a sentence together. She walked the direction Ellie and Bridge had gone.
“Come, boy!” she said, snapping her fingers. I jumped at the order, scrambling to her side as quickly as possible. The large mixed German shepherd fell into stride next to her. She bit her full lower lip to keep from smiling. I nearly facepalmed myself but held back. Now you have restraint? Charming.
“August said you row?” she asked. Her voice spilled over me like warm syrup. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the drugging sensation, then realized she’d asked me a question.
“Yeah,” I answered belatedly. Good. A short answer, but it’s better than mouth diarrhea. “I row...a-uh-boat...with-uh-my teammates.” Superb! Just-uh-superb.
“Do you use an oar?” she teased, biting her lower lip again. I found myself fantasizing I was the one that bit that lower lip. Her mouth distracted me. Answer her!
“Yes, smart ass, I use an oar,” I flirted, grinning from ear
to ear because I couldn’t help it.
She smiled back, making me want to worship at her feet. Stick a fork in me!
“This is Useless Eugene,” she said, patting the side of her dog’s neck. “But I just call him Eugie.”
“Where’d he get a name like that?”
“When he was puppy, he took a liking to me and would only follow me around. We couldn’t get him to work unless I was there, and I was in school then. They’d take him out into the field, but he’d just come running back to the house looking for me. My pa called him a Useless Eugene and it stuck.”
“How old is he?”
“Thirteen.”
I looked down at the old boy and noticed a little hitch in his step. I could tell his bones were aching.
We walked into a large dining area with a long wood table and long benches instead of chairs that could probably sit at least thirty. The ceiling was lower in this room, making it feel more intimate. Along the center of the table laid a banquet. Platters full of chicken fried steak, fried chicken, actual piles of grilled steak and biscuits. There were bowls full of mashed potatoes, creamed corn and green beans with bacon. These people’s cholesterol must be through the roof, I thought, but looked around at the few already seated. There wasn’t a single overweight person there.
“If you worked twelve hours a day, burned approximately three thousand calories in those twelve hours with the sheer labor involved, you’d need dinners like this,” Cricket said with a smirk.
That smirk I could tell was her signature trademark and I loved it already. God! She was feisty!
“I didn’t say anything,” I teased.
“You didn’t need to. Your eyes said it for you.”
“I’m just not accustomed to this. I eat differently is all,” I explained.
She snorted. “Okay, sushi boy, take a seat,” she jabbed, heading off toward what I assumed was the kitchen.
I watched her walk away and thoroughly enjoyed the view.
“Spence, over here!” I heard Bridge call over.
I joined her at the head of the table and sat to her left, on the edge of the bench.
“Oh my God, I’m so hungry,” she said, eyeing everything before her like she hadn’t just eaten a box of crackers in our trailer.
“Chill out, kemosabe,” I laughed.
She glared at me. “This thing in me is like a freaking bottomless pit. It’s always hungry.”
I smiled at her and she smiled back but rolled her eyes.
“Happy?” I asked.
“I have a feeling I will be,” she answered with a smile. She looked down at her hands in her lap then over at me. “Cricket seems nice.”
“Shut it,” I demanded, trying to hide my smile.
“And my God were you smooth,” she teased, furrowing her brows. “I mean, I’ve never seen someone so charming before.”
I laughed. “Was it that obvious?”
“No, coolio, you convinced everyone. The bug eyes were a nice touch.” She clicked her tongue and formed an okay with her hand.
I ran a hand down my face. “How humiliating.”
“I have to admit, I’ve never seen you trip over yourself like that, not even with Sophie Price did you lose your cool. This is a nice side of you or whatever.”
“Maybe I’m tired,” I offered by way of explanation. I don’t know who I was trying to convince—me or Bridge.
“Maybe.”
More people kept pouring in. It felt like a scene from Bonanza. Men and women of all ages came in from the cold, sporting their horse gear. I couldn’t believe people still lived like this. It felt so foreign to me, so fascinating.
Cricket followed her grandma into the dining hall, with another large bowl of potatoes. She looked at me and rolled her eyes but laughed. I watched her set the bowl down. She was so tiny she had to reach a little for the center of the table and it exposed her stomach slightly, sending me reeling. Oh, please God, let her sit across from me.
She moved slowly, painfully slowly, too slowly for me toward our end of the table but chose the part of the bench directly across from me. I tried with much difficulty to settle my rapidly beating heart. I smiled at her and she smiled back. Eugie, who was on her heels the entire time, curled up at her feet.
Emmett and Ellie sat to my left, Cricket’s right, at the end of the table. Everyone sat chatting. I didn’t know what we were waiting for. Every spot was filled at the table except the spot directly next to Cricket. My brows furrowed in curiosity until the door banged open with a cold breeze and the Native American guy I saw on the horse earlier came in. He removed all his gear and threw it on one of the hooks.
No, I realized as he made his way toward Cricket.
He braced a solid arm on the table and leaned into her, kissing her on the mouth before sliding in beside her. She smiled at him, turning toward him as he sat, and threaded her fingers through the top of his hair. They were talking, but I had no idea what they were saying. I was too distracted by the stabbing pain in my gut and chest. Damn. She laughed while he kissed her once more. I wanted to rip him off of her. I was so damn disappointed. I’d never felt more disappointed. I felt Bridge’s eyes on me, but I refused to return the look, too obsessed with watching them.
They turned toward us.
“Spencer, Bridget, this is Ethan Moonsong,” Cricket said, cheerfully introducing the bastard.
“Nice to meet you,” Bridge said, a shiny smile on her face.
I nodded. “Hello.” It was all I could muster.
He returned the nod. “Spencer, Bridget, a pleasure,” his deep lulling voice responded.
Bridget leaned forward a bit and asked Ethan a question. He answered with vigor and my eyes shot to Cricket. She was watching me, gauging me, trying to decipher if my flirting earlier meant anything. I secretly smiled at her and shook my head, letting her know I was crestfallen in that moment but that it didn’t mean shit. I was cocking my metaphorical gun. Her eyes widened for the briefest of moments before cooling. She turned and feigned interest in what Ethan was talking about but she wasn’t fooling me. Click. My eyes never left her face. She periodically glanced my direction, and I knew from experience there was only one reason anyone would do this. She was trying to hide her own interest in me. Click. She turned to face me again and this time I winked, making her visibly squirm.
“Right, Cricket?” Ethan asked her.
Her gaze was riveted to mine. “Hmm?” she asked, shaking her head to focus.
“You okay?” he asked her.
She turned to face him. “What? Yes, sorry, what was the question?”
Click.
“Everyone! Everyone!” Emmett said, standing and clanking the side of his spoon against his tea, a canning glass I’d only seen people in movies drink from. He raised his hands to settle the rowdy table. “’Fore I say grace, I’d like to take this moment to receive the Blackwells.” He turned toward us and the others stared our direction, making Bridge blush. Jonah smirked at her, attempting to ease her, simultaneously making me very nervous. “We are all happy to have you both here and wish that you’ll be very comfortable. We welcome you into the fold.”
“Here! Here!” a few rang out over the clinking glasses.
He sat and leaned toward us. Quietly, he said, “We’ve all been made aware that your security is a priority. None of mine here will ever expose you, my dear.” Bridge’s face fell toward her lap, her eyes turned glassy, her cheeks flashed deep red. She was embarrassed. Emmett chucked her under the chin. “None of that, miss. You done good, girl. No one here thinks any less of you. Fact is, my Cricket’s the product of my middle girl, God rest her soul, in just the same way, and we wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.” Cricket’s mom was dead? He glanced at Cricket and sighed deeply. “Yup, I’d give just about anything to keep her around forever. She’s my sweet angel.”
“Thank you,” Bridge said, raising her head and swiping quickly below her eyes.
Cricket winked at her, a
silent declaration of camaraderie.
Out of respect, no one asked us a single question about leaving our parents. They asked many questions concerning us, but aside from asking when Bridge was due, which we weren’t aware yet, the conversation geared mostly toward what interested us.
“Ethan,” Bridge asked after everyone’s plates were cleared, “if you don’t mind me asking, what tribe are you from?”
“I don’t mind.” He smiled. “I’m from the Echo River tribe. We’ve been in the Bitterroot Mountains for more than three hundred years. We kept the mountains and the mountains kept us.”
“Fascinating,” she said. “I wonder how you survived the cold.”
“We are made for this weather. We were made for those mountains.”
Bridge smiled and nodded.
“What made you want to work here?” I asked Ethan, not able to help myself.
“My dad got me in. He works here,” he answered. Bridge and I looked around. “Him. Right there.” Ethan pointed to a large white man at the opposite end, a solitary-looking figure who didn’t join in much conversation but seemed agreeable enough, grinning occasionally at the others around him. Ethan shared his eyes and nose. “My mom is Echo River,” Ethan explained.
I nodded. “Where is she?” I asked.
Cricket shifted uncomfortably. Ethan’s face fell to his plate. “She, uh, died two years ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” Bridge said.
“It’s okay. She loved and was loved. I miss her, but I know where she is.” He lifted his face toward us once more.
“And who are your parents?” Bridge asked Jonah.
Jonah’s eyes widened as if in disbelief that she spoke to him. “My dad’s Charles or Chuck as everyone calls him. He lives in Butte with my mom.”
“Cool,” she responded. He grinned like a fool.
“My mom was Chuck’s younger sister by a year,” Cricket added, fiddling with her napkin. “I know no one asked, but I figured I’d tell you anyway. Her name was Sarah.” Ethan squeezed her shoulder and she winked at him, making my stomach churn.
“So how is August as a roommate?” Jonah asked.
GREED (The Seven Deadly Series) Page 8
