chop more wood than she had in a month. Now, just as Dwayne used to, he was protecting her. Sheltering her from the worst an Oklahoma winter could dish out. Coming from her husband, her high-school sweetheart, the only man she’d ever loved, the notion had been endearing. Coming from this stranger, it was insulting.
The truth of the matter was that in a few months, once she could no longer afford to pay him, he’d be gone. Just like her husband. Then, there she’d be, once again struggling to make a go of this place on her own. But that was okay. Because, stubborn as she was, she’d do just that.
Oh, Jess knew the stranger meant well, but the bottom line was that she was done depending on anyone for survival. And make no mistake, out here, eking out a living from the land was a matter of day-to-day survival.
As a glowing bride, she’d still believed in happily ever afters. She now knew better. Loved ones could be snatched from you in a black second. Twisters could take your home. Learning life doesn’t come with a guarantee had been one of Jess’s most valuable lessons. It had taught her to appreciate every day spent with her daughters and parents and few friends. It had also taught her not to let anyone else in. Even if that someone was only an apparently well-meaning hired hand. For the inevitable loss of his much-needed help would hurt her already broken spirit far more than long days of working the ranch hurt her weary muscles.
“Look,” she finally said, all the more upset by the fact that the freezing rain had started, tinkling against the tin roof and the rusted antique tiller Dwayne had placed at the corner of the yard for decoration. They’d had such plans for this old place. Dreamed of fixing it up, little by little, and restoring it to the kind of working outfit they’d both be proud of. “I’m not sure how to politely put this, so I’m just going to come right out and say it. You’re, um, doing an amazing job with this wood, and there’s no doubt I could always use an extra hand, but—”
“You don’t want me here?”
“Well…” Jess didn’t want to be rude to the man, but yeah, she didn’t want him here.
“Tell you what,” he said, not pausing in his work. “Doc and my dad are pretty proud of themselves for hooking us up, and—”
Her cheeks flamed. “They what?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Gage said, casting her a slow and easy and entirely too handsome grin. “Just that I’ve needed a change of scenery and you’ve obviously needed a strong back. To a couple of coots like Doc and my old man, I suppose we must seem like a good pair.”
“Oh. Sure.” Now, Jess’s cheeks turned fiery due to having taken Gage’s innocent statement the wrong way.
“Back to what I was saying, how about I stay through the afternoon—just long enough to get you a nice stockpile of wood—then be on my way before the weather gets too bad? Doc won’t even have to know I’m gone ’til I’m over the state line.”
“You’d do that? Pretend to stay, for me?”
“Hell,” he said with a chuckle, “if I’d stand out here all afternoon, chopping wood for you in the freezing cold, why wouldn’t I do a little thing like leaving you on your own?”
His laughter was contagious, and for an instant, Jess’s load felt lightened. Only, curiously enough, her healthier woodpile had less to do with her improved mood than the warmth of Gage’s smile.
Chapter Two
Only a few more hours, and Gage would be back on the road to Texas. He’d expected to feel good about the fact, but the lead in his gut felt more like guilt.
Jess needed him. He’d been raised never to turn his back on someone in need, and considering Jess’s situation, Gage was pretty much honor-bound to do right by the down-on-her-luck widow and her brood. Hell, even the mangy old dog currently curled in front of the living room’s crackling fire seemed to need him.
“Thanks,” Gage said, accepting the third bowl of chili Jess’s mom had shoved in front of him. The meal was delicious, but the straight-backed kitchen chair was about as comfortable as a cedar fence rail. Don’t even get him started on the one rowdy munchkin jawing his ears off about Tyrannosaurus rex eggs, and the other not-so-rowdy—okay, downright hostile—munchkin shooting him laserlike death stares.
Georgia, on the other hand, made for pleasant enough company with her gentle chatter about the weather and her corn bread recipe and how her husband should be here just any minute to fetch her in his four-wheel drive. Gage missed his own mom. This Christmas would be tough on her—most especially without him there. But she had his father and many friends to help her through. He just couldn’t bring himself to see her; she reminded him too much of Marnie.
Maybe he’d go home for her birthday in March.
Doc had long since finished up on Honey, calmed Buttercup and taken off to help his wife wrap gifts for their six grandkids. Gage would’ve been on his way, but seeing how Jess’s mom was still hanging around, he was obliged to stay.
Georgia fixed herself a second bowl of chili, sprinkled it with Colby Jack, then dropped into a straight-backed chair alongside him. “Ray Hawkins worked miracles on that old bunkhouse stove. Gage, you should be snug as a bug out there all through this storm.”
“Actually…”
“He’s staying? Here? In the bunkhouse? That’s where I play Barbies.” Lexie shoved her chair back, and stomped from the room.
“Sorry,” Jess said. “Ever since her dad…”
Gage knew well enough what she left unsaid. Ever since the girl’s dad had died, she didn’t cotton to any new men sniffing around her mom. Well, she’d be safe from him. He’d be leaving soon, and besides, with all he’d been through in the past few months, he certainly wasn’t looking for a woman.
Granted, Jess was a fine-looking woman.
Tall, with a figure just right for holding. A long mess of fiery-red hair that suited what he’d imagined to be an equally hot temper. And then there were her eyes. Mostly gray with a tinge of blue. On a sunny day, would they match the sky?
Too bad he’d never know.
“Thank you, ma’am, for this meal,” he said to Georgia.
“You’re most welcome,” she said, glowing from the compliment. “From the looks of you, a winter’s worth of home cooking will do you good.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He had lost weight, but hadn’t realized it showed. Not that it mattered.
“Mister Gage,” Ashley said, “did you know a T-rex could bite through somebody and kill them with just one chomp? He’d mash them, squirting out their blood all over the place—just like a Fruit Gusher.”
“Ashley Grace Cummings,” Georgia scolded. “Must you speak of such things at the dinner table?”
“It’s true,” the girl said, slathering enough butter atop a corn muffin that it looked more like a frosted cupcake. “I figured Mister Gage should know to be careful. Just in case he ever sees one.”
“Thanks,” he said with a nod. “You’re right, you can never be too careful around those T-rex’s. Especially where I’m
