by Kristi Rose
“Yeah, I couldn’t live anywhere else but here.”
She faced him, her eyes wide. “Four generations?”
He nodded. “It means a lot to me.”
“I can see why. It would to me as well.” She looked from the house to across the yard at the large barn and the three corrals next to it.
He pulled up to the detached garage. A covered walkway led the way to the backside of the house, but this family had traditions and, pretend marriage or not, he was going to adhere to them.
He jumped from the truck with every intention to go around and get her door, but Meredith was already sliding out of the truck from his side, and the sight filled him with longing. What if Meredith were really his girl? Yes, she technically was. But that was in name and not in years. Jace forced the thoughts back. He would not get attached to the idea of Meredith always being around. She liked the house; she didn’t seem put off by the remoteness. Chances of her sticking around until Pops passed were getting better. He wouldn’t ask for more.
Tuck pulled in behind him and got out. He took off his hat and extended his hand to Meredith. “Welcome to Three Peaks Ranch, Mrs. Shepard. It’s a pleasure to have you here.”
“Thank you—”
“Tuck. You can call me Tuck.”
Jace took Meredith by the elbow and steered her toward the front door. “I hate to leave you here to fend for yourself. I’m not sure how long we’ll be.” He led her around to the front and up the stairs, then stopped to faced her. “Listen, I know this might seem weird, but it’s a Shepard tradition to carry the bride over the threshold.” He lowered his voice. “I know our circumstances are different, but would you mind?”
Meredith shook her head. “I believe it’s a tradition for many people in our nation.”
“Yeah, but not like this.” He bent and tossed her over his shoulder fireman-style. Her fabulous fanny in the air, his hands holding her sexy legs at the calf.
“Jace,” she called out laughing.
“Get the bags, will ya, Tuck?” he called over his shoulder as he kicked the door open and stepped across the threshold.
Chapter 13
Jace gave her a quick tour of the house, and following an awkward where-do-I-put-these moment with her bags, deposited them in what looked like a guest room. He then disappeared into the room next to hers, she assumed his, because he stepped out minutes later dressed in well-worn jeans that fit snugly over his back assets, a flannel shirt, a wool jacket in navy blue, and his grey Stetson. She’d nearly drooled openly. Instead, she leaned against the wall to steady her knees lest she jump him like the licentious woman she really was. Their time in the truck proved that.
He guided her to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. Unpack, get settled, and eat anything. I’ll be back as soon as I can. The house is heated, but if it gets too cold, build a fire.” He hesitated. “Sound good?”
She turned away, embarrassed she didn’t know the first thing about making a fire, much less how to cook. “What about you eating? We left the food they gave us at the diner.”
Taking from the pantry a container of what looked to be beef jerky and some energy drinks, Jace held them up. “Don’t hold dinner for me. I’m real sorry about this.”
She moved behind the island and forced a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
He arched a brow. “You sure?”
“Absolutely. I’m going to change out of this dress and snoop through your drawers.”
“All right then. Sounds like a plan. I’ll be back soon.” He nodded as if to reassure her, took one step backward, smiled again, then spun on his heel and bolted from the room.
Sticking to her words, she did as she told Jace and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, It took less than ten minutes to unpack her bags. Downstairs she went through the pantry and fridge but decided on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Meredith hadn’t so much as boiled water in her life, and standing in front of the six-burner range made her feel woefully out of her element. Would she be expected to cook? She supposed it couldn’t be all that hard. Maybe she’d ask Jace for Internet access and could look up some recipes.
The house was quiet with the exception of bugs outside calling on the night. She was a stranger in a strange home and land with nothing to do. She didn’t even have a book to read. She’d tried watching TV but was too restless, too distracted by her thoughts to focus.
Instead, she laid on the couch and thought of Jace.
She ran her hand over the areas that Jace had kissed, touching her lips and the top of her breast, remembering the heat, then scolding herself for being foolish about some kisses, lovely as they were. She and Jace had made a deal to play house, and it would do no good for her to get reality confused with fantasy. Even if the fantasy portion warmed her to her very center and gave her those intoxicating butterflies that made her giddy. Yes, heady stuff indeed were his kisses.
Her father had wanted her to connect with someone like Lyle Brady, a man so cold, ice shivered when he was nearby.
How could a father love his daughter so little to want that for her?
Meredith shook her head. At least she was here. She was getting a chance to figure everything out.
She explored the family home, walls covered with generations of Shepard’s working the land and going to rodeos, at weddings, and family get-togethers. All smiling, happy, with arms flung around each other’s. Sabrina was in a few.
It was stupid to be envious of her, but Meredith was. Not only because Jace had his arm flung across her shoulders and they were laughing, but because Sabrina had a life Meredith had only dreamed about. She was loved enough to be on someone’s wall along with baby pictures and awkward school photos.
All that had ended for Meredith when her mother died.
She touched the wood frames, wiped the beginnings of dust off a baby picture. She'd be stupid to deny she wanted this, a wall that showcased her life and showed love and laughter. But she would have to wait awhile before she opened herself up to the possibility of love and family. She reminded herself there was still time. She was just getting started and, sure, she might find all she wanted here at Three Peaks Ranch. Or she might not. What if she tried to make this place the solution and then his father passed and Jace asked her to leave? Meredith turned away from the wall. No. She shook her head. No. She would not sell this newly found freedom by forcing herself into a family position—all for security.
She would let things happen the way they were meant to.
The doubts ate at her, making sound reasoning hard. She was skewed and more vulnerable after what she and Jace had shared. At least she knew that much.
She moved to the picture window in the living room and pushed back the soft floral curtains. The house had a woman’s touch that Meredith found comforting, like the framed cross-stitched art on the wall, the runner over the buffet in the dining room, and similar cross-stitched pillows on the leather couch. It worked for her just like the view outside of the sun sinking behind the mountains did.
Her exploration of the house ended in a back room that looked to have been the family room but was now a bedroom. Going by the equipment, a bench, adjustable bed much like a hospital one, and the rack of clothes pushed to the corner, this was where his father slept. As comfortable as they’d tried to make it, there was no privacy. Feeling like a trespasser, she backed from the room.
Time passed at an agonizingly slow pace. She found a computer and took a chance that Jace wouldn’t mind if she used it. The speed was worse than dial up. Deciding she should try something, Meredith searched on how to start a fire, but found the instructions too intimidating. She didn’t know if the flue was open, and the off chance it was closed, it was April after all, was a risk she decided against. She imagined Jace coming home to a house of smoke of her doing. No way.
Instead she found a Jane Austen book in the study at the back of the house where the computer was. Clearly Jace’s study. His jacket over the chair, a coffee
cup on the desk corner, and books and papers across the surface. Her gut told her this was where he spent his time when he was in the house. Unlike the immaculate house, this room looked lived in and the space felt private. Much like when she entered his father’s bedroom, she was left with a sense of not belonging. Not wanting to be caught there, she quickly grabbed the novel and scuttled out. Settling on the couch in the front room, she covered herself with a wool blanket and tried to relax. Tried to get lost in Mr. Darcy, but found her mind wandering to what transpired in the truck, and her attention was constantly drawn to the front window. At some point, around when the moon was at its highest, she fell asleep wondering what was keeping Jace.
Chapter 14
It was not unlike fence mending to be time consuming, especially if they were old and deteriorating. The fences that were down were not the oldest on the ranch. That detail belonged to the west side. These looked to have broken under a weight.
Likely from the same grizzly that was determined to cause Jace grief. He considered whether it was time to call in Fish and Game to try to trap him. Every cattle lost was dollars from his pocket, and whereas Jace respected the circle of life and the power of the giant bear, he also liked to eat and had his sister’s college to pay for. This bear was quickly becoming his key problem. Soon the ranch would have the calves running. Letting them range on a wide belt of land was what they’d always done. This year he’d have to rethink that plan.
Jace entered the house from the back, coming into the kitchen. He was sorta hoping there would be a plate of food waiting for him, but the kitchen looked untouched, save for the jar of peanut butter still on the counter.
Well, hell.
Here it was his honeymoon, and he’d spent the evening and better part of the night rebuilding a fence and herding cows back onto his land, not wanting them to roam on the government’s prairies. He had very little recourse there; no one liked a bear killer, even if the beast was stalking Jace’s stock. For Jace, that was asking for more trouble than it was worth. Many activists didn't like the centuries-old deal ranchers had with the government regarding use of public land. Their intention was to preserve the natural resource, and Jace killing a bear would give them fodder. Jace understood that. He believed in preservation and wildlife responsibility, too, but right now he needed to preserve his income.
He found Meredith sleeping on the couch and debated whether to carry her upstairs or leave her. He decided to let her be. She looked peaceful and comfortable, and if he carried her upstairs, that would just open a shit can of awkwardness he didn’t have the energy to deal with. Not feeling right about leaving her, he decided to stay as well. He dimmed the light and stretched out on the overstuffed chair beside her. Kicking off his boots, he slid them quietly to the floor before letting his head fall back with exhaustion. He’d slept many nights here, his father in the next room, Jace on hand to assist should Pops need to use the restroom or something. His mother was exhausted, and he’d tried to offer relief whenever he could. He wondered how this would all work with Meredith here once his parents moved back from town now that Pop's rehab was almost complete. There were no immediate answers as sleep crept up quickly and took him down.
He woke when someone nudged his shoulder. When he jerked upright, Meredith jumped back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Sorry. Normally when someone wakes me, it’s because something is going wrong.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his face cloaked in morning stubble. “What time is it?”
There was a hint of sunlight peaking over the mountains outside.
“I have five on my watch. I heard a truck come up the drive, and I thought I’d better wake you.” She sat on the edge of the couch.
Jace stifled a yawn. He could swear he’d just shut his eyes five minutes ago. “That’s Tuck. We usually get started around now.” He stretched and caught a whiff of something. Sniffing his pits, he grimaced. “Sorry. Not the picture of a magical honeymoon, I imagine.”
“That’s okay, you seem really busy. Are the fences okay?” She shook her head. “That’s a stupid question. I meant did you get the fences worked out?”
Jace laughed. “Yeah, but I knew what you meant.” He sighed, stood, and stretched again. “Looks like I got a wildlife problem. Bear.”
Meredith’s eyes grew large.
“Speaking of which, do you know how to shoot a gun?”
She shook her head.
“Let’s make sure we fix that right away. I don’t want you here alone without being able to protect yourself.”
Meredith looked out the window and scooted down the couch closer to him.
“I’m not trying to scare you, Meredith. I think in my entire life a bear has only come up close to the house twice, and both times we were able to scare it away. But better to be safe and prepared than not.”
She nodded slightly. “Sure. That makes sense.”
“Listen, I’m desperate for a shower. Think you can scare me up some food while I do that? I’ll meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes.” He didn’t have time to wait for an answer and made quick work getting ready. True to his word, he was back downstairs and in the kitchen in the time he said.
Meredith stood at the island with a plate. On it were two slices of bread with peanut butter.
“What’s this?” He wiped water from his neck. Having hurried, he hadn’t fully toweled off.
“It’s protein and the only thing I know how to “scare up.”
Jace nodded several times and then burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said and took the plate. He tried to stifle the laughter when Meredith looked devastated, her face crumbling with every laugh.
“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because I just assumed, and well…you know what they say about assuming. Here I had these fantasies of coming down to a giant breakfast, and you hand me peanut butter bread. It’s not even toasted.” It was priceless really and a good lesson. Oh, how Willow and his mother would love to see him get handed a plate of bread. His mom had nagged him to death about learning to cook, and he’d chauvinistically assumed he’d find a woman to do that. Here he was married to one who didn’t know how.
“I couldn’t find the toaster,” she squeaked, a tear leaking out.
Jace was instantly somber. He put the plate down.
“So, you don't know how to cook?” He scratched his beginning beard. In his haste, he’d forgotten to shave.
Meredith shook her head and swiped away the lone tear. “No, I don’t.” Her chin lifted in defiance.
“Me either,” he said. “Mom’s been up my craw about learning, and I told her there was no need. With her around or if I ever married, that was taken care. That’s why I was laughing. I’m sorry Ma missed this because it would’ve made her day. Not that we're going to tell her or anything.”
Meredith sagged against the counter, her wrecked face now reassembled into a beautiful picture of loveliness. “I thought you were laughing at me.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you’ll find I’ll never do that. Not spitefully.”
He slid the bread from the plate and took a bite. “It’s good.”
When she laughed, it was a light, flirty sound that gave him instant wood. He moved to stand on the other side of the island. He needed to think of something else other than the sweet sounds she made when he touched her because that chain of thought was starting to get him overheated. He looked at the bread.
“I’m guessing then you had someone cook for you. Is it because you have no interest in knowing how to cook or…?” Food. They’d talk about food. How sexy could that be?
She looked to the floor before meeting his eyes and nodded. “We had a cook.”
He glanced at her hands. They were pristine. Smooth. Unlike his mother or Willow whose hands showed their use.
Ranch hands, his mother called them.
Meredith had socialite hands. It was going to be a long, tough y
ear for her polished nails.
“I see a lot of canned goods in the pantry, but not a lot of fresh food in the fridge.” She bit her lip, and he swallowed hard.
Her action instantly brought him back to his attraction to her. Who cared if she didn’t have ranch hands? So long as she put those hands on him, he’d be perfectly fine. She nibbled her lip, and he wanted to do the same. He wanted to be close enough to her that he could suck on her lip and other things his mouth might find.
Jesus H. Christ, he was a horny asshole. Here she was trying to have a conversation with him, one that had made her cry earlier, and he was thinking about breaking their pact and getting her naked. But keeping his mind in the gutter helped him ignore the tiny, nagging doubt she was too pampered and would find this a difficult place to live. That she'd want to leave any day now. He imagined trying to explain that to his parents.
His mood instantly soured. She was here one full day and already it was complicated. Sex, no sex, married but not really married. He needed to focus on something asexual like...cows. He needed to remember why he was doing this––Pops. He needed to not be distracted by her lips...or anything. He shuffled on his feet, ate the last bite of the bread while he tried to remember what they were talking about before he ventured down this tangent.
“I can’t cook either, but I can open up a mean can of beans or soup. And over a campfire, I can grill an insanely good steak. I can flip burgers on a grill without burning them. You know, those sorts of things, and salads probably aren't that hard, my sister makes them all the time. That's just chopping, right? That's not mixing ingredients, but even then, how hard could ingredient mixing be?”
Meredith traced the pattern on the counter. “I don't know. I’d like to try it, though.”
“You should try it. Experiment away. I’m going to be outside for most the day. I can show you real quick where to get the eggs. Did I mention we have hens and chickens?”
She shook her head. “You don’t mind if I mess up your kitchen?”
