Alexis was glad of the warmth of the last glowing embers as she stripped to a pair of woolen leggings and a thin woolen sweater and crawled inside her sleeping bag. She didn’t like to examine it too closely, but she was suspicious that at least some of her pleasure in the day was the feeling that Mason liked her.
After having been dumped so unexpectedly by James, it was a balm to her pride to know that another man found her attractive. Especially when that man was someone like Mason. Someone strong and kind. Fun to be around. The sort of man, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, with whom she could easily fall in love.
The following day, Alexis was up with the sun, feeling remarkably well-rested. A quick look around the room ascertained that Mason was nowhere to be seen so she quickly clambered out of her sleeping bag and threw on yesterday’s clothes and boots and headed outside. If he had gone out early without waking her, she was going to be sooo disappointed.
Her mood improved as soon as she stepped outside and caught the smell of breakfast cooking on the barbecue. Mason thrust a plate loaded with scrambled eggs and bacon at her, while he poured her coffee into a tin mug. “Eat,” he said, as she looked at the mountain of food with appreciation, wondering how she could eat even a quarter of it this early in the morning. “You’ll need the energy.”
Alexis gave a small grimace as she sat on an upturned log to eat. After yesterday’s trek, her thighs burned worse than they ever had before.
As if he could hear what she was thinking, Mason gestured to the lake. “I thought we could stay a bit closer to the cabin today. Ben said he was coming back for us later this afternoon, but it’s looking a bit marginal, and he’ll come in earlier if the weather starts to pack up. I’d like to stay within sight of the clearing where he’ll be landing so we can spot him coming over.”
She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Sounds good.”
After polishing off the entire plate of food, packing away the dishes and doing a few warm-up stretches, she was ready to go again.
Her shoulders were a bit stiff, too, she decided, as she grabbed the rifle and headed out around the lake. The walking was easier today, largely on the flat instead of up and down the hills. She suspected he was taking it easier for her sake, and she appreciated his thoughtfulness. She would’ve driven herself to keep up with him if he’d planned another hard day, but she was glad of the respite.
She found herself slipping into a happy daydream as she walked. A daydream in which James came over to find her and declare that he’d made a mistake and that he loved her after all and had decided to leave New York and stay on the farm with her to help run it.
She gave herself a mental shake for the absurdity of her daydream. James would never leave New York, and he would never want to be a farmer, either. She couldn’t see him getting up close and personal with a ewe who was having trouble birthing, or whistling to the dogs to round up the sheep. He fainted at the sight of blood and was convinced that all dogs had fleas.
No, that dream wouldn’t fly.
Even if James dropped in tomorrow to tell her he loved her, ha ha like that was ever going to happen, he would expect her to go back to New York with him. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t really want to go back.
Maybe she could stay here. Work the farm. Run a small business. Come into the hills alone whenever she wanted to recapture that sense of peace.
She’d miss her friends back in the city. Phoebe in particular. Still, they could always visit. Phoebe would love the adventure. As for the rest, well, New Zealand was an exotic enough location to give them excellent bragging rights at the average cocktail party.
Deep in the thought of Phoebe at a travel conference bragging about her friend who ran an upcountry sheep station in oh-so-scenic New Zealand, she didn’t see that Mason had stopped walking until she bumped into him and let out a startled “Oof!”
He turned around and steadied her with his free hand, being careful not to make a sudden movement. “Up ahead.”
She looked but didn’t see anything.
“To the left. Just behind that patch of bush up ahead.”
Ah, there it was. The side of an antler poking out of a rough patch of scrub.
“We’ll swing around. See if we can get a clear shot.”
Quietly they left the lakeside and circled away from the deer, far enough away to keep cover between them. After a half hour, Mason dropped to his knees and she flopped down next to him. “It should be just in the clearing up ahead,” he said in a low voice. “Once we get to the edge of the trees, keep your head down, and your rifle up.”
They scrabbled through the bush, bent over double, to the top of a slight rise. Just below them was a beautiful stag, cropping grass as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Alexis hardened her heart against it. Pest. Destroyer of native forests. Still, his coat was a glossy reddish-brown and he looked majestic and serene in the early morning light.
Mason brought up his rifle and sighted it. “At this distance, aim for his head. Make it a good, clean kill shot.”
She wiped her hands down her trousers to dry off the sudden sweat. “You want me to shoot it? What if I miss?”
“Then you miss. No big deal. And you can talk for the rest of the season about the one that got away.”
Still she hesitated.
“I’ll back you up,” he added. “I’ll be ready as soon as you’ve taken your first shot.”
Nodding her agreement, she crouched down low and sighted her rifle just as she had practiced doing the day before. Mason crouched next to her, sighting his.
The stag’s head bobbed in and out of the frame as he grazed in a desultory manner over the rough ground. She locked him in her sights and squeezed the trigger.
The animal staggered a bit and shook his head. A moment later another shot rang out and he crumpled to the ground, twitched once more and then lay still.
“We got him.” Alexis dropped her rifle and jumped to her feet in triumph. “We got him.” Despite her qualms at shooting such a lovely creature, she was ecstatic about her success. “I actually hit him.”
“Venison for dinner,” Mason said with a note of triumph in his voice. He grabbed his pack and headed over to the dead deer. “A three-pointer,” he said, gesturing at the antlers. “Not bad.”
Alexis crouched down beside it and stroked its fur. It was coarse and hairy, not as soft as she had expected. “So, what do we do with it now?”
Mason unsheathed his knife. “Gut it and haul it back to the landing spot.”
It was a good hour or two later by the time Mason had finished gutting the deer, slung it over his shoulders with the head and front feet on one side and the hind feet on the other, and hauled it back to camp.
He lowered it to the ground with a grunt of effort and stood up again, rubbing his back ruefully. “I’m glad we shot him close by. That was far enough to drag him.” He gave a rueful look at his filthy hands and blood-spattered clothes. “I’m going down to the lake to clean up a bit.”
Alexis fell into step beside him once more. Having helped where she could, she was hardly much tidier than he was.
The worst of the filth gone, they wandered back to camp and relaxed in the sunshine. “No point heading off again,” Mason said. “We’ve got enough venison to last us for a while.”
Early afternoon, Ben brought the chopper back. “Good hunting?” he asked, once the noise had died away into the valleys.
Mason gestured to the deer carcass and Ben helped him drag it over and tie it securely, before they took off again to Jax’s farm.
Jax came out to greet them, pleased with the sight of the venison. He clapped Mason on the shoulder. “That’s a sight for sore eyes. You’d think that a professional hunter would get to eat all the venison he liked, but not me. My clients get it all and I have to make do with lamb.”
Looking at his immaculate jeans and shirt, Alexis was suddenly horribly aware that she hadn’t washed in
two days and was covered in a mix of dirt, grass and deer blood. She smoothed her hands down the sides of her jeans and tried to slip away unobtrusively.
Jax was having none of it. “So, which one of you shot it?”
Mason gestured at her. “Alexis brought it down.”
Jax’s eyes widened and he took a step backwards. “Really? Good for you.”
She was still proud of herself. “I winged it first. And then Mason finished it off with his shot.”
“I’m impressed.”
She preened under his evident admiration. It was still a novelty to her that a man she hardly knew would judge her on her capabilities, rather than on how she looked or the way she dressed. James would be horrified to see her as she was now—he expected her to be immaculately groomed at all times.
How much fun had she missed out on because she was afraid of mussing her hair or breaking a fingernail, and thus rendering herself less attractive in James’s eyes? How had she come to see her worth as the way others felt about her, rather than what she was capable of doing and the way she felt about herself?
She was still pondering the subject as they hung the deer in a shed, and Mason promised to be back in the next day or two to butcher it and divide the meat.
Mason drove back to his place, chatting easily to Alexis as they went along. Conversation with him was so easy. She didn’t have to watch her words or think too hard about whether she was saying the right thing. She could simply say what she thought without worrying that he would call her hopelessly naïve or try to mansplain what ought to be her opinions to her. Not that James had been a bad or unkind person—not at all. He simply wasn’t as restful as Mason was to be with. Or as interesting to talk to, either.
They pulled into the garage by the stables, where Alexis had parked her truck the morning before. She hesitated before she got out, not wanting the weekend to end. “Thank you.”
He leaned over and touched her face gently. “I enjoyed the time with you, city girl. Very much.”
He was going to kiss her. Surely he was going to kiss her.
Suddenly getting cold feet, she opened her door and slid out of the truck.
Mason clambered out on his side. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come on too strong,” he said, as he got her bags from the back. “I like you. I just wanted you to know that.”
She was still in love with James. Or was she? “I like you, too.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “But?”
Don’t be a coward, she chided herself. Go for it. You can’t moon after someone who doesn’t want you. It’s time to move on already. “But nothing.” Before she could lose her nerve, she crossed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. “Kiss me.”
He held her as gently as if she had been a new-born lamb. “Really?”
She took a breath in. “Yes.”
His mouth was hot on hers as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She luxuriated in the feeling of safety and security she got in his arms.
The crunch of boots on gravel and a loud bang brought Alexis to her senses again. Georgia, bridle in hand, had slammed the door of the barn behind her and was glaring at the pair of them. Alexis pulled away from his embrace in embarrassment, feeling uncomfortably like a teenager.
“I thought you were buying her farm, Mason,” Georgia said nastily. “Or is that one of your negotiation tactics?”
Mason stepped forward. “Don’t be a cow, Georgia. She’s done nothing to you.”
“It’s not me I’m concerned about,” Georgia replied with a toss of her head. “Can’t you see that she’s just like Emma? She’s a city girl through and through. She doesn’t deserve you. And you don’t deserve to have your heart broken again.”
He shook his head. “I know you care about me, Georgia, but I can look after myself. You are not being either fair or kind.”
“It was just a kiss,” Alexis protested. Though to her mind, there was no just about it. It had been an amazing kiss. A life-changing, world-shattering kiss. “Between friends.”
Georgia gave her a scornful glance. “My brother can do without having friends like you.” She turned on her heel and walked off without another word.
Mason drew his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. Emma was a good friend of Georgia’s. She still feels bad about our breakup, as if it were somehow her fault.”
“No need to apologize. It doesn’t matter.” But the moment was gone now. She grabbed her bags and flung them into the back of her truck. “Thanks again,” she called as she wrestled the truck into first gear.
When she looked in her rear vision mirror just before she turned the corner, he was still standing in the driveway, watching her as she drove off.
Chapter Five
Alexis hesitated before walking up the Quinns’ front drive. Sharon and Ken had been nothing but lovely to her, but their house was intimidating in its size and grandeur, and she felt underdressed in her work jeans and the woolen pullover that she had thrown on when she had left home.
What must Mason have thought of her when he had shown up at Bert’s cottage and seen the layers of filth that coated the surfaces inside?
She furrowed her brow slightly as she stepped towards the door and knocked. She had never really thought about it before, but Mason’s family clearly came from money, from a lot of money. And yet they had been so welcoming to her, even though she really was the poor neighbor.
A minute passed. No one came, and she knocked again, this time much harder. She hoped that the sound would carry across the house. If someone was on the far side, they wouldn’t have a hope of hearing her.
No one came. She was about to turn and leave, but a noise from inside made her peer through the glass windows, only to jump back in embarrassment as Georgia’s unsmiling face appeared and opened the front door. “What are you doing here?”
Alexis wanted to squirm under the girl’s unfriendly gaze, but she held her head high. “I uh, needed some help from Mason.”
“Come on in then,” Georgia said, turning around, and she stalked back out of sight and into the kitchen.
“Is he here?” she called, as she kicked off her shoes. The hallway was long and lit from overhead skylights from the mezzanine floor above them. It never failed to take her breath away, this house. The high ceilings and exposed wooden beams framing the skylights above her gave the feeling that she almost wasn’t inside at all, and instead the house just opened to the heavens.
Georgia had disappeared into the kitchen and Alexis followed her. “Is he here?” she asked again, a bit louder to make sure Georgia had no excuse to pretend she hadn’t heard.
“No.” Georgia’s tone was decidedly curt. It almost sounded like she was about to cry.
As Alexis entered the kitchen, she bit back a gasp of dismay. She had only ever been in the kitchen once before, to help clean up after the night she’d had dinner here. That night it had been spotless. Today, however, there were pots, pans, baking trays and cutlery spread across every surface. A fine dusting of what looked like flour was spread across every surface as well, including splatters on the wall and floor. And there was a distinct smell of burning.
Georgia was also dusted in flour. And now that Alexis looked at her, she could see that the young woman’s eyes were rimmed with red.
A blackened circle shape sat on the bench. The burnt smell was coming from it. “Is everything okay, Georgia?”
Georgia swiped at the flour dusting her face. “Does it look okay?” Her voice was unnaturally high. “I’m meant to be dropping this cake off to the fair in two hours and it’s a disaster!” She gave a half-sob, as if she was trying to keep it together in front of Alexis. “Mrs. Hetherington asked me if I could bake it to be auctioned, and the funds are going to her husband who has cancer, and I promised a cake and this…this…catastrophe! It’s all I have!”
Alexis took a step backwards to avoid Georgia’s increasingly wild gesticulations.
“I never should h
ave promised this,” she went on. “Mrs. Hetherington is at the hospital with him now and I promised her, and a three-tier cake is meant to be at the raffle. I’m useless!” She said the last word with heated anger, gesturing wildly at the room and the mess that lay before them. Then she burst into tears.
Alexis did the only thing she could think of. Grabbing Georgia’s shoulders, she steered her to a stool at the kitchen’s island bench and sat her down. “Let me get you a cup of tea.”
She turned around, looking for the kettle. It was half full of water already, so she flicked it on, threw a teabag in a cup, then turned to take in the disaster that was the kitchen.
“Georgia, what flavor cake is it meant to be?”
“Anything really,” she hiccupped through her sobs. “As long as it had three layers, but you can see there what happened to my three layers.”
Indeed, Alexis could see, and if it had been anyone else, she would have giggled at the complete fail that was evidently meant to be the first layer of the cake; now a burnt shell with still-raw cake batter oozing through. “It looks like you just had the temperature set too high, so the outside burned, and the inside didn’t cook at all.”
“No shit, Sherlock. If you’re just going to make me feel worse about it—”
“No, not at all!” Alexis interjected. “But I could help you. I can bake. I’ve always quite liked baking.” This was an understatement; baking and cooking were her one and only hobby.
The kettle whistled, and she filled the cup for Georgia, adding a dash of milk from the flour-dusted milk bottle on the bench.
“Thanks.” Georgia cupped her tea. “Can you really bake?” Her voice was hopeful.
She took stock of the kitchen. A bomb site, but salvageable, she decided. “What time do you need it by?”
“I’m meant to be leaving in two hours.” Her voice was perilously close to a wail.
Alexis clapped her hands together. “Okay, we’d better get started then. Finish your tea, then find me the biggest mixing bowl you have.”
To her surprise, Georgia meekly obeyed.
Head First (Quinn Brothers Book 1) Page 8
