could make one. I love making snowmen.”
“Hold on, Misty Taylor. If it’s snowing, you don’t need to go down that ramp. It could be slippery.”
“But, Daddy, you know how I like to catch the flakes on my tongue.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“We can make snow ice cream instead. All we need is some evaporated milk, sugar, vanilla, and a couple of eggs and, of course, snow.” Hannah shifted her gaze to Caroline. “If you don’t have evaporated milk, we can use regular milk. I know several ways to make it, depending on what you have on hand.”
“Can we, Granny?”
Enthusiasm in Misty’s voice caused Hannah to smile. “You haven’t made snow ice cream before?”
The little girl shook her head. “Granny?”
“It sounds like fun. I think we have everything, even the evaporated milk.”
“I don’t think I ever made any. I did put a snowball in the freezer once and used it on Dad in the spring.” Austin took the platter Hannah passed to him and forked several slices of the meat, then proceeded to cut some for his daughter who only had the use of one hand.
“Yes, I remember my son had a knot on his forehead after you threw it.”
Misty crunched her brow in puzzlement. “Snow’s soft.”
“Yeah,” Austin said with a chuckle, “until you put it in the freezer and it hardens into ice. I have to say Dad wasn’t too happy with me, so don’t try it, munchkin. I hid in the barn for the rest of the day.” A faraway look entered his eyes. “I hadn’t thought about that in years. The stunned look on my father’s face was priceless. It was about fifty degrees, and he’d been working so hard his forehead was sweaty. I actually thought it was a good time to use the snowball.”
Caroline smiled. “I never told you, but your dad thought it was, too. After you hightailed it to the barn, he burst out laughing, picked up what was left of the snowball and used it to ice his head until he could get inside and get a bag of ice.”
“He did?” An incredulous expression hiked Austin’s eyebrows. “He acted angry when I saw him that night.”
“All a pretense.” Caroline gave Hannah a bowl of potatoes, carrots and onions. “How about you? Did you ever get into a snowball fight?”
Hannah scooped the vegetables onto her plate. “No, I hadn’t seen snow until I came here.”
“No snow?” Misty asked with surprise.
“Not in southern California.”
“So that’s where you lived before coming to Montana? Where in southern California?” Austin’s interrogative tone marked his words as it had in the Jeep while he drove her to the ranch earlier that day.
“Los Angeles,” Hannah said, gripping her fork. She felt relatively safe with the true answer because in Los Angeles County the population was close to ten million. He’d have to dig pretty deep to come up with any information on her from that answer.
“So you grew up in L.A. before coming here. Were you a home health care provider there, too?” Austin took the rolls that Hannah handed him after snagging one for herself.
“No.” She wouldn’t offer any extra information unless asked, and then she would try to keep it as close to the truth as possible. She didn’t want to be tripped up later with a contradictory statement. But whenever someone began asking too many questions, a headache throbbed behind her eyes.
“Austin, quit the third degree. Say grace please.” Caroline bowed her head.
Both Misty and Austin followed suit. Hannah stared for a few seconds at them then dropped her gaze to her plate as Austin’s deep, husky voice sounded in the stillness with a prayer of thanks for bringing Misty home safely.
Even though this was her second night at the ranch, sleep evaded Hannah as it usually did in a strange place until she felt settled in. Flipping back the covers, she rose and slipped into her terry-cloth robe, belting it as she covered the distance to the door. Yesterday Caroline had made it very clear she was to make herself at home while she was here.
And she intended to—if that were possible with Austin watching her every move. When she lived in a separate place from her patient, she had down time, which wouldn’t be possible here at the ranch. She felt as though she were an actress onstage 24/7. That was why she usually had her own place.
Hannah headed for the kitchen. A hot cup of milk often helped her get to sleep. After putting a pan on the stove, she walked to the window to watch the snow continue to fall. She loved seeing that, and since she would soon be gone from Montana, she would enjoy it as much as she could.
“Can’t sleep?”
Austin’s deep, husky voice startled her, spinning her around so fast she nearly lost her balance. She clutched the counter nearby and steadied herself. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry. I took my boots off.” He pointed to his feet clad in socks. “I was going upstairs to bed when I saw the light on in the kitchen. I thought the cook had left it on.”
“Rene is a very good cook. The meal tonight was as delicious as last night’s.”
His gaze shifted to the stove, a question in his eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep so I’m heating some milk.”
“That works?”
“Yes—at least for me it does. I don’t like taking any pills to help me sleep.” They would make her too groggy if she had to get up fast and think of an escape plan. She still remembered the other night when she had awakened from the nightmare, and it had taken her a few moments to get her bearing. And that had been without any aids to help her sleep.
“I’ll have to give it a try. I usually just work in the office until I can’t keep my eyes open. Tonight even that isn’t working.”
“What’s on your mind?” Hannah walked to the refrigerator and grabbed the milk to pour some more into the pan.
He shrugged. “Stuff. I don’t want to bore you with the running of the ranch.”
After she added more milk, she put the carton back in the fridge. “I can’t imagine running a ranch being boring.”
He smiled, the gesture encompassing his whole face. “It isn’t really. Not to me.”
“But something must be bothering you.” Is it me?
“I found a cigarette butt in the barn today, which means that one of my hired hands is smoking on the job. I’ve always insisted if you’re going to work at the Triple T that you don’t smoke on the job and especially in the barn. It’s a fire hazard with all the hay around.” He leaned against the counter near the sink, kneading his nape. “I’ve never had a problem with it until now.”
“Have you hired anyone new?”
“A couple.
