The Weather Channel. She says we’re in for one heckuva storm.”
“Ice or snow?” Jess asked.
“Starting off ice, switching to snow.”
“Sounds fun,” Jess said with a sarcastic laugh.
“Got plenty of firewood?” Doc asked.
Though she nodded, she didn’t meet his gaze.
“See why I called you?” Doc asked Gage. “The girl lies through her teeth. Watch, what she calls plenty of wood will be a quarter rick too wet to give good heat.”
“First off,” Jess said, tugging the saddled horse Gage presumed was Smoky Joe in from the paddock and into a stall, “I’m not a girl, but a woman. And second, I do have enough sense to have covered the woodpile during the last rain. Third, Gage, I know you mean well, but maybe you coming here wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Gage,” Doc said, “whatever she blows on about, don’t listen. Now, would you mind running out to my truck and getting my bag?”
“Sure,” Gage said, thrilled for yet another escape.
“And after that, please check the woodpile on the south side of the house. If it’s not in healthy shape, Martha will have my hide.”
HANDS ON HER HIPS, after Gage was out of earshot, Jess said to Doc, “I understand you and my parents and Lord knows who else you’ve got in on this plan to save me mean well, but seriously, Doc, I’ve been taking care of me and my girls just fine for a while now, and I resent like hell you and my father hiring some stranger to ride in here like a knight in shining armor.”
“It’s not like that,” Doc said, “and kindly soften your voice. Your screech-owl-shrill tone is spooking Honey.”
“Sorry,” she said, “it’s just that—”
“We’re here,” Lexie said with Ashley in tow. “What can we do?”
“Lots.” Doc gave them a list of busywork that would serve the dual purpose of not only keeping them out of trouble, but also making them feel special.
“Here’s your bag,” Gage said, planting it at the vet’s feet. “You need anything, I’ll be around the side of the house, looking after the wood.”
Nibbling her lower lip, Jess gave the man a five-minute lead, then waited ’til Doc seemed plenty distracted with Honey’s stitches before heading outside herself.
It was only two in the afternoon, but it might as well have been seven at night. The sky glowered gray.
What Jess would like to do was join her mother in the kitchen, where she was no doubt nursing a pot of tea while gossiping on the phone with one of her many church friends. What Jess did instead was march around the side of the house toward her obviously lacking woodpile.
The smack-thunk of an ax splitting a log, and the halves hitting frozen ground, alerted her to the fact that her new employee was already hard at work. Her first sight of him left her mouth dry. In a word—wow. Even on a day like this, chopping wood got a person’s heat up, and Gage had removed his coat, slinging it over a split-rail fence. The white T-shirt he wore hugged his powerful chest.
Fighting an instant flash of guilt for even thinking such a thing, she averted her gaze before saying, “Put your coat back on before you catch your death of cold.”
He glanced up, his breath a fine, white cloud. “I’m plenty warm. How’s Honey?”
“Better. Doc’s working on his stitches. Looks like he’ll be here a while, but for sure, the worst has passed.”
“Honey’s a lucky fella,” Gage said, midsmack into another log, “that you came along when you did. How’d you even know to look for him all the way out there?”
“He’s always been fascinated by that old trash pile. When he and his mom went missing, that’s the first place I thought to look.”
“Some of that trash didn’t look so old.” He reached for another log, causing his biceps to harden. Again, Jess found herself struggling to look away.
“No. That valley’s always been a favorite dump site. Not sure why—or how—I’ll ever stop folks from using it.”
He grunted.
It’d been so long since she’d been around a man not old enough to be her father or grandfather, she wasn’t sure what the cryptic, wholly masculine reply meant. Maybe nothing. A catchall for the more wordy, feminine version of It’s amazing how downright rude some people can be by littering on a neighbor’s land.
“You, um, really should put your coat back on,” she said, telling herself her advice had nothing to do with the fact the mere sight of that T-shirt clinging to his muscular chest was making her pulse race. “Looks like freezing rain could start any minute.”
Again, she got the grunt.
“Freezing rain’s nothing to mess around with,” she prattled on. “Once it starts, you’d better be sure you’re where you want to be, because odds are, you just may be there a while.”
“Ma’am,” he said, gathering a good eight to ten quartered logs in his strapping arms and adding them to the already healthier pile, “no offense, but I grew up in north Texas. I know all about freezing rain.”
Of course, you do. But do you have any idea how well those Wranglers hug your—
“Mommy!” Ashley cried, skidding to a breathless stop alongside her. “Gramma said if you don’t get in the house, you’ll catch a death.”
Gage chuckled.
The fact that he apparently found not only her, but also her entire family amusing, reminded Jess why she’d even tracked him down. To ask him to leave.
“Please tell Grandma I’ll be right in,” she said to her daughter, giving the pom-pom of her green crocheted hat an affectionate tweak.
“’Kay.” As fast as her daughter had appeared, she ran off.
“She’s a cutie,” Gage said.
“Thanks.”
“Hope I’m not overstepping—” he reached for another log “—but Doc told me what happened to your husband. Must’ve been a comfort having your girls.”
More than you’ll ever know.
Something about the warmth in the stranger’s tone wrapped the simple truth of his words around her heart. Throat swelling with the full impact of a loss that suddenly seemed fresher than it had in a long time, she lacked the strength to speak.
“Anyway,” he continued, “just wanted to say sorry. You got a raw deal.”
Lips pursed, she nodded.
“You should—” he nodded to the house “—go in.”
Though she couldn’t
