6. Chapter 6
6
Hale hoisted a sleeping Bram into his arms and jerked his head toward the stairs.
“I’m going to put this one to bed.” The wooden steps creaked as he treaded carefully upstairs. Ruck stretched out on the couch, standing with a sigh. The sight of his long legs kicked out sent a squiggle around my stomach.
“We’d better go to bed as well. Good night, Mrs. Hartlock. I’ll check on Charlie before I turn in.” He tapped his forehead, tipping his imaginary hat.
“Thank you, I would appreciate that so much. Sweet dreams to you both.”
Oliver gave me a brief, thin-lipped smile, his gaze dropping to my hands before wordlessly following Ruck out of the house.
I spread my palms out. Where Oliver saw ruin, I saw only rebirth. The comfrey oil was helping with the redness and the rough calluses that remained thrilled me. I wanted the softness obliterated. Daniel commented on my skin more than once. He said it felt like silk before pressing his lips against my scent gland. He’d done this in full view of my father, who hadn’t reprimanded him as he should. My body flushed hot and cold. Nothing like the secret pleasure Oliver’s touch created. Daniel’s made me lock my knees under my skirts, glad the hoop forced him to give me space. I made the mistake of standing still and letting him look his fill, like a buyer in front of prize horse stock.
Or a pretty vase that would sit on a shelf, used for nothing but plumping up egos.
My looks, my designation, always measured my worth.
But on this ranch, I contributed more than I ever dreamed. And these aching hands made it possible. I still didn’t know how I was going to tell the truth about being an omega, but I was determined to prove myself first. Hale thought omegas were spoiled. I needed to prove him wrong. I would be more than what Oliver thought I was, too. For the first time, life seemed filled with possibilities.
They bled out of the cracks in my hand, the pain a badge of honor.
The absence of the alphas was immediate, and I took a harried sip of my scent-blocker tea. I was rationing it, and it seemed to mask my scent well enough. But it didn’t help my reaction to their mingled smell. In close quarters, they sank into my skin, coated my nostrils, and it was difficult not to react. The combination of them was dizzying. Hale was fresh-tilled soil and pepper. Ruck was fresh cut hay and leather. Oliver was orange rind in red mulled wine. I knew them sweet; I knew them bitter.
Their nuances seeped into me like a second language.
I tucked away Ruck’s shirt he’d given me, pressing the collar to my nose for a moment without thinking. When his rugged scent flooded my nostrils, I flushed, jammed it, and a pair of socks Oliver asked me to mend, deeper into my basket. I refused to acknowledge the snapped wooden spoon I’d stored at the bottom of my basket as well.
The sitting room was small, even more oppressive, when there were three alphas gathered in it. We’d migrated there after dinner and felt like a family with the cozy companionship. I enjoyed being a witness to their banter and the rolling rumble of their voices.
Bram spent most of the night bragging about Charlie. When Ruck spared the calf in the barn, I’d almost flung my arms around his neck in thanks. Something warm and sinful lay in the hazel of his eyes and I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d done something wrong.
I pulled one of Hale’s shirts onto my lap and my sewing kit. I had the strangest urge to take the clothing in my basket to my room, to hide it underneath my covers. I shook my head. What was that about?
I wet the thread on my tongue, sliding it through the needle head and tying it off.
“I like what you added to the fireplace. Is it your mother’s?” Hale fidgeted in the doorway before taking up his place on the couch. I took little when I left, but I couldn’t leave my mother’s tea set. Hand painted oranges adorned the side of it, her favorite fruit, and a luxury. The ornate tea pot took up center space on the shelf hanging over the fireplace. I added the small sugar receptacle and the milk jug. It looked quite darling, with the shadows reflecting from the fading sunset. I pulled the thread through Hale’s shirt.
“It is. She wanted me to have it. I hope I didn’t overstep. I know your mother was the lady of the house, but there wasn’t anything on the shelf.”
Hale’s eyes crinkled as he looked up from his book. It looked small, spread over his muscular thighs.
“Of course not. I want you to make this house your own. Mama would have liked you, I think.” His lip quirked. My needle hung in the air.
“You think?” I said with mock shock. The fire popped as a log shifted. It was mostly red, flaring embers. Hale made no move to stoke it, content to watch it wind down. Bram begged Hale to light a fire, even though it wasn’t cold enough to warrant one.
“She wouldn’t know what to make of you, at first. Your frocks are finer than anything Misery Creek has ever seen, and your mother’s tea set is high quality. Hell, even your sewing box is lined with blue satin. A lady like you doesn’t belong on a ranch like this. You should have a sitting room with every luxury, like a spoiled omega. But you’re hard working. I see the pride you take in losing the smoothness of your hands. And you have a kind heart, saving Charlie and Bram the heartache. He’s been a demon to you, and you’ve taken it in stride. So, I think she’d be a little confused, but you’d win her over. Like you have with us all, even Oliver, and he doesn’t like anyone.”
The needle jerked through Hale’s shirt, and I stabbed my finger, distracted by the fix of his intense gaze and words. I hissed, as a ruby red droplet formed on the rough pad. Hale leaped from his seat and grabbed my hand. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around my finger.
“It’s just a prick.” I protested. His upper body pressed into my legs. We’d never been this close to each other before. Hale’s eyes dilated and the clutch of his fingers tightened. My lungs stuttered, air whooshing out as they brushed against my scent glands.
“This is what husbands do for their wives. Isn’t it?” The featherlight brush of his fingers was enough to build a whine in my throat.
I wanted him to press harder, to mark me with his sharp pepper and thick, earthy scent. I didn’t know what to say to him, but my whole body flushed when he pulled the handkerchief away and blew gently on my pricked finger.
“There. It’s not bleeding anymore.” He didn’t let go of my hand.
“Thank you,” I managed through my strangled throat.
“You’re welcome.” Hale remained at my feet. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a smooth, rose-colored stone. “I found this out on the field today. To be honest, Oliver found it. He’s the best at spotting nature’s treasures. But it reminded me of you.”
“What? Cold and smooth?” I huffed a laugh as Hale pressed it into my hands.
“Beautiful.” Hale countered, and just when I thought my lungs would give out, he scooted back and picked up his book. I ducked my head to hide my flaming cheeks and focused on fixing the tear in Hale’s shirt. Daniel was always effusive with his compliments. Enough honey to rot your teeth out, Birdie always said when he finally left. My sister was right. But Hale’s words felt like polished silver. Bright and precious.
“Did I—” he paused, and the burn of his gaze prickled my sensitive skin, “overstep?”
I tucked the sewing on my lap and picked up the quartz. Daniel would have laughed at such a simple gift. But sitting here in this cozy room was far more satisfying than anything I’d ever known before. I’d grown up on the main street, with four floors of opulence that did nothing for me. I’d watched the hordes of humans and Designated bustle around every day, wishing I could be amongst them.
Wishing I could be a part of something.
“We are husband and wife, as per human laws.” I picked my words carefully, but my hand went unconsciously to my throat.
“Yes, I wish I could claim you as Designated, but the bite only stays permanent between alpha and omega pairs,” he frowned. Like Hale wished it could be otherwise.
The warm sizzle in my stomach doused at the reminder of my duplicity again. My fingers dug into my skirts. I needed an anchor. Hale was a good, powerful alpha and I could taste the unmistakable interest in his unshielded gaze. The quiet hum of the fire warmed my chilled bones. I didn’t want him to hate me. If only I hadn’t been born an omega. My designation brought me nothing but trouble. Hale wasn’t wrong to judge omegas. My lies were only proving him right.
“Your mother was a beta?” I scrambled to change the subject. Hale fingered a page of his book, gaze drifting to the teapot.
“She was, and she gave her whole heart to this place, to my father and us. A fine woman.”
This was the first time he’d mentioned his father.
“It was a twisted fate that made them sicken and pass with the same illness only a year apart. Both caught wet lung, in the middle of winter. The cold is harsh in the wildlands, and we can’t do much when it’s especially fierce. The snowbanks up on the door, and we have to pass the time in the house. Horses wouldn’t last the trip to town. If you fall ill, you’re on your own. Under the mercy of the gods. They were a well-matched pair. No matter what anyone says. Just like I hope you and I will be one day.”
He rolled the last two words around his tongue, dropped them low in my stomach. Their silky cadence brushed between my legs, heating and teasing. Hale’s advertisement explicitly said no romance. Had he changed his mind?
Did he want me in his bed?
“I haven’t repulsed you with my cooking yet?” My lungs burned as I attempted to diffuse the tension. I ducked my head from his intense gaze. What was going on with Hale? He’d never looked at me like this before. I liked it too much.
“Oliver tells me you’re still getting used to the kitchen. Is there something else you need, something you were fond of before we married? We could order it in town. I can get the things you need. Anything.”
I shook my head; I was missing the help of our cook. She’d done her best to train me with our limited time, but it didn’t make up for the twenty years I spent idle. I couldn’t tell Hale that, though.
“If you’d like to test your skills, we have a family tradition. My mother always made the most incredible apple pies, and she’d make one on the last day of summer. When the harvesting finished, we’d celebrate. After the pie, we take a dip in the watering hole. Are you up for the challenge?”
Excitement skittered through my veins, and my smile ached against my cheeks.
“I’ll do my best,” I promised. Perhaps I could ask Oliver to assist me. The prospect of being included in such an integral part of his family fabric spurred me to cross the room and sink into the couch beside Hale.
“I fixed your shirt.” My throat dried as Hale’s fingers brushed against mine. His hazel eyes dropped to the precise mending.
“Thank you, Esta.”
The way Hale said my name was like water after being parched in the blistering sun. My heart ratcheted against my chest. Gods. How could I get him to say it again?
“You’re most welcome.”
Hale’s thigh whispered across the space between us, pressing a bar of warmth through my skirts. He didn’t seem to notice, turning the shirt over to admire my work. His scent was deep and earthy. It begged to cocoon me in its strength. I wanted to rest my nose on the crook of his neck and suck in a desperate breath. I wanted to taste his skin, see if it was sharp like pepper. Flatten my tongue over the tight tendons in his neck.
I leaned back, skittering away from the shameful thoughts with embarrassment. Civilized Designated didn’t think like this.
“I know you said no questions about your past, but I must confess, I want to know everything about you,” Hale whispered. A knot choked my throat, but Hale waved his hands and added. “I won’t ask, don’t worry.”
Oxygen burned like flames in my lungs. I’d put a lock on my past. Daniel, and my father’s leniency toward him, gave me no choice. But there were so many beautiful parts of my life which I missed, mainly my sister.
“I have a younger sister, Birdie. She’s got the most incredible mind. She’s going to change the world one day.” Once I started, I couldn’t stop my love for Birdie bursting out of its tightly held confines. I wanted to be like my beta sister for as long as I could remember. “She’s got an inventor’s mind, and she bullied her way into my father’s workshop so she could see how the ---”
Trains worked .
My eyes widened, and I laughed to cover my near mistake. Neil Miller was one of the wealthiest Designated in Breton City because he invested in the rail line. The new technology was mocked initially and even my mother berated him—privately, of course. But my father was right. Now, the country was a spiderweb of rail lines, and my father helped with their inception. I didn’t want Hale to know anything about my past. First it had been the ghostly visage of Daniel nipping my heels, and now I feared being sent back even more.
But my lies were matchsticks, and one spark could set them alight.
Hale’s lip quirked, unaware of the existential crisis I was having internally. “We should take our rest. The hour has gotten late.”
Sweat sprung on my upper lip, and I couldn’t contain the squeak that popped out. Hale stood and stretched, a sliver of his tight stomach becoming visible. I was sure my cheeks were tomatoes, hot like coals as they were.
Hale paused in the doorway but didn’t step through.
“Ladies first.” His low tone made my eyes flutter shut for a moment. I was forced to press past him, only for a moment, but it short-circuited my brain. I tripped up the step, too flustered to concentrate.
“Goodnight, Esta.”
Hale stood at the base of the stairs, and I mumbled a quick reply. His shoulders were tight, and his eyes carried the flicker of embers. Burning coals that chased any vestiges of fatigue from his tall form. The electricity between us jolted down my spine, and as I fled, it charred away any hope I had for sleep as well.