bite.”
Shea managed a grateful nod before Rachel turned away, then felt her face flame. She hated the random attacks of shyness that plagued her when she was around too many people. Quickly, she opened the back hatch and busied herself with sifting through her suitcase. A few things, such as her heavy boots and mittens, could stay in the back of the car. No sense lugging them back and forth to the house. She’d need them at the shelter, not here.
Her gaze drifted toward the animated group as they chatted and laughed, grabbing luggage and totes full of wrapped presents from the back of the truck. Cole was tall and dark like Trace, with hair that brushed his collar. And the honey-blonde woman, Cole’s girlfriend, was very pretty. She seemed comfortable with the family, as if she’d known them for a long time.
Shea couldn’t help but be a little envious of the lively group. The men not so much, but the three women were gabbing as if there wasn’t enough time to get everything in. Good for them. But being an outsider was fine with her. Comfortable. Familiar.
She had the strangest feeling that someone was watching her and turned to scan the outer building. An indistinct rider was galloping in from the south. Appearing oblivious to the cold, a pair of beautiful roans munched hay from a bale in the corral. It was close to dinnertime so she wasn’t surprised that there were no workers in sight. The only other sign of humanity was smoke streaming out of the smokestack of one of the brick-and-wood buildings, probably the bunkhouse.
She started to turn back to sorting when she saw him under the archway to the barn. She’d almost missed him, standing in the shadows, lean and tall—well over six feet. He wore faded jeans, a brown flannel shirt, boots and work gloves, and he stared out, though not at her. His attention was on the family, who now headed toward the front steps.
She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from him. He could’ve been a McAllister. He had the same coloring, the height, the same dark hair as the two brothers, except his was much shorter, almost a military cut. But that wasn’t what made her doubt he was one of the brothers, it was the way he held himself back from the group. Like an outsider idly looking on… like she had.
Maybe he was one of the hired hands. Very good-looking, at any rate. Just an observation. It wasn’t that she was interested. She was totally done with men. They weren’t worth the aggravation. Even sex was overrated in her opinion. Focusing on her work gave her far more satisfaction. And she hoped her time at the shelter would help fill her need to connect with another living, breathing being. Preferably a horse. She loved horses, always had.
Shea smiled as she thought about all the childhood letters she’d written to Santa asking for a pony. But all she’d ever gotten were silly froufrou dresses from her mother and educational toys from her father. Oh, and that trip to Disneyland when she was nine. Her parents had argued the entire time and divorced three months later.
A week after her father had moved out of the house, Shea had asked for a dog, but her mother had refused what she deemed an “added burden.” It had probably been for the best. The way Shea had accelerated though prep school and then college, she’d never really had time to care for a pet. But she was seriously considering adopting a dog now. She still worked ungodly hours, but maybe she could trade her corner office for a kennel on the first floor. After all, other employees were provided day care for their kids.
The family had disappeared inside and the man from the barn had disappeared, too. If she didn’t hurry, she knew Rachel would send someone after her. Shea swung her suitcase out of the back, then hurried toward the porch. All she wanted was for someone to point out her room, where she could hibernate until it was time to head to the shelter in the morning.
JESSE STOMPED the dried dirt off his boots outside the mudroom door, then entered the small space that led to the kitchen. His eyes were gritty and he still hadn’t gotten all the filth off his hands even though he’d been wearing gloves and had washed up some in the barn. He didn’t care. Manual labor was exactly what he’d needed. His back and shoulder muscles were pleasantly sore and just maybe he’d get a full night’s sleep.
“Good. You’re here,” Rachel said before he’d opened the kitchen door all the way. She ran her gaze down the front of his shirt and jeans and wrinkled her nose. “What have you been doing?”
“Cleaning out the barn shed. We had too much equipment packed in there.”
“God. Go take a shower. We have guests.”
“Jamie will be here a whole week. And she came to see Cole, not us.”
“I wasn’t thinking only of Jamie but of Shea, too.” Rachel opened the oven and the spicy smell of lasagna filled the kitchen.
His stomach growled. “What about her?”
“Cool the attitude. It’s not as if she’s a regular guest,” Rachel said, throwing him an annoyed look while pulling on oven mitts. “She’s going to be at the shelter most of the time and only here to sleep. So if you’re still pissy about me taking her in, get over it.”
“I don’t care who’s here. I doubt I’ll be around much myself.”
The sudden hurt in Rachel’s eyes made him look away. She said nothing, but concentrated on taking the steaming dish out of the oven.
“I’ll go take that shower,” he murmured and kept walking.
“Jesse?”
He wanted to ignore her. He wished he hadn’t made that unnecessary crack about not being around. “What do you want, squirt?”
She didn’t react to the hated childhood nickname. “It’s almost Christmas. You know how much the holidays mean to Mom.”
“I’m not gonna mess anything up, okay?”
“Not on purpose you wouldn’t.”
Sighing, he briefly closed his eyes and rubbed them with the heels of his hand. “What do you want from me, Rachel? I cut down the trees for the living room and the den, strung the lights along the eves. I’m here. I’m participating.”
Except he wasn’t really here, not emotionally. That’s what Rachel was getting at, even though she managed to give him a small smile. “I know, Jesse. You’ve been great about helping us decorate. You have far more patience than Cole or Trace for that sort of thing.”
He tugged at a tendril of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “Shower first, then I’ll help set the table.”
“I have something else I’d rather you do,” she said quickly.
“What’s that?”
“Shea is staying in the guest wing. First room on the right. Knock on her door and tell her dinner will be ready in ten.”
He opened his mouth to refuse, then just nodded. Hell, he didn’t have to be in a hospitable mood to knock on a door.
“And don’t take no for an answer,” Rachel added, wagging a wooden spoon at him. “I’m holding you responsible.”
Jesus, his sister could be a pain in the ass. He waved her off, headed out of the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. Voices and laughter came from the den and he thought about yanking Trace away to go get the woman. But that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, once he showed his face he’d have to acknowledge
