Chapter 5
I’ll be damned before I bring this food to Belle after she stormed off and didn’t listen when I tried to get her attention. I glare down at the tray on the reception desk, the chili and mac taunting me as I recall how loudly her stomach kept growling.
Grumbling to myself, I carry the tray back into the mess, heading toward the bussing station. I’m about to scrape the wasted food into the trash when Remy turns from where he’s grabbing some cobbler and gives me a friendly smile.
“Hey there, boss! Everything turn out alright with Doodle? I saw he was back in the yard, crowing at the goats.”
Dammit, I told August to keep him in the cage for a bit. Teach that bird a lesson or, if nothing else, keep him from causing any more traffic accidents before I can figure out how to deal with his escape artist nonsense.
I grit my teeth and give Remy a curt nod, reminding myself that he’s not the reason I’m fuming right now, before I go off on him and his brother for not dealing with Doodle when they first saw him.
“Good, good…” I beg him silently to leave it at that and let me go about my business without me needing to come off as an ass for not wanting to chat.
He doesn’t hear my mental pleas, his hazel eyes lighting up a second later and his ears flicking with excited energy.
“Did you see that woman in the sparkly outfit? Gus says it’s Miss Dawn’s granddaughter!
Can you believe it? Looks a lot like her, minus the duds.
I didn’t know she was coming out here, did you? ”
“I saw her, and no, I didn’t know she was coming,” I grunt.
Wylie pops up beside me, drawn by the siren song of gossip. “She sure is pretty. Always thought Miss Dawn was a looker, so I guess it runs in the family.”
Remy gives his brother a grossed-out scowl. “Ugh, you did not. Miss Dawn, may she be resting peacefully, was almost sixty years older than you!”
Wylie crosses his arms defiantly. “So? She was still pretty. I’m not saying I was in love with her or anything. Don’t make it weird!”
I try to step away, hoping they’ll be too busy arguing for a bit to notice me leaving, but both young minotaurs focus on me the moment I move.
“What do you think she’s doing out here?” Wylie asks, but doesn’t let me answer before he continues. “My guess is she’s here to help pack up Miss Dawn’s house and belongings, and maybe collect some things she inherited. Mighty nice of her to help, if that’s the case.”
Remy releases a gusty sigh. “I sure hope it’s for more than that. I’d hate to see her leave without enjoying all the ranch has to offer.”
Wylie scoffs. “You mean all you have to offer. Dream on, she’d never be interested in you. Now, me on the other hand—”
“Both of you leave her alone,” I snap. “What she’s doing here is none of your business, and I won’t have you distracted trying to flirt instead of doing your work.”
Their eyes widen. “Sorry, Cal, we were only messing around,” Remy says with a sheepish scratch at the base of his horn.
Wylie nods in agreement.
“Good.” I hide my embarrassment at how sharp I was with them by clearing my throat.
They’re good kids and hard workers. When I was 19 and 21, I was a mess.
I take a calming breath, reminding myself that they respond better to kindness than to my being a hardass.
“Oh, and next time you see Doodle where he doesn’t belong, go ahead and grab him, will ya?
I know he’s a menace, but it would be a great help to not have to go on a wild rooster chase every day if I don’t have to. ”
“Oh, sure thing!” Remy says brightly, my harsh words already forgotten.
“See, I told you we should’ve gotten him! But no, you were worried about being late.”
I place a hand on Wylie’s shoulder as he starts to chastise his older brother. “It’s all good. Just for the future, wrangling Doodle trumps tardiness.”
They both nod. “Got it.”
They wave goodbye, heading back to their table, and I hover by the garbage for a second before letting out a low sigh and grabbing a few compostable to-go containers.
By the time I’m walking up to Dawn’s house with Belle’s abandoned dinner, I’m regretting my choice. I don’t want to see her, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to see me. But my damn conscience can’t let me waste the food. Or let her go hungry.
My pulse spikes as I knock on the door, agitation rising in anticipation of seeing Belle again. There’s no answer, so I knock a little louder. And wait.
Where the hell is she?
I raise my fist to give knocking one last try, and the door swings open. I almost tip over into the threshold, catching myself on the doorframe before I crash into the petite woman inside.
Belle’s eyes widen. “Cal!”
I grimace and right myself. “Brought you your food.” I shove the containers in her direction.
“Oh! That’s… Thank you.” An inexplicable flush rises on her cheeks.
Is she seriously mad at me for bothering her? I was trying to be polite.
“Alright then. Good night.” I turn to leave.
“Wait!”
I look back at her, unable to keep the scowl off my face. I’m not in the mood to be yelled at again. Even if I was a bit out of line earlier.
Her expression closes off. “Nevermind.”
Dammit, now I need to know. Releasing a frustrated huff, I cross my arms. “What is it?”
“You’re going to make fun of me,” she says warily.
Well, shit. I know I wasn’t the nicest, but it doesn’t feel good that she thinks I’d openly mock her for whatever is troubling her.
“Try me.”
Belle sighs and turns to show me her back. “I’m stuck.”
It takes me a moment to notice what she’s talking about, my gaze reflexively honing in on how the jumpsuit hugs the curve of her pert ass.
I yank my attention up as soon as I realize what I’m doing, and see where the zipper is caught halfway down her back, snagged in a lock of her abundant auburn curls.
When I don’t say something right away, Belle exhales heavily. “See? I knew you’d be a jerk about—”
I cut her off by sweeping the hair that’s not tangled in the zipper over her shoulder. I do my best to be gentle, but she hisses a little at my first attempt to free her hair.
“Sorry,” I murmur, touching her back to let her know it wasn’t intentional.
After what seems like an eternity of tension, I manage to get the hair untangled. I hover my fingers over the zipper, unsure what she wants me to do.
“Do you…do you mind pulling it down the rest of the way?” There’s an edge of vulnerability to her voice that has me wanting to rub at my chest. “Just to make sure I don’t get caught again.”
I nod, even though she can’t see it, and tug the zipper down carefully, watching with fascination when the tiny hairs on her pale skin rise as it’s exposed to the chilly night air. I have the absurd urge to smooth them back down with my hand.
I step back as soon as the thought forms. What the hell is wrong with me? I don’t need to comfort this woman, and she certainly wouldn’t accept that from me.
Belle turns and gives me a sheepish smile. “Thanks.”
The expression reminds me too much of how Dawn would look at me when I caught her doing stuff around the ranch that she should’ve left to me and the staff. A pang of grief hits me hard, and I have to clear my throat against it to speak.
“No problem. Have a good night.” I tip my hat to her and head off, looking back once to see her in the doorway's glow, looking as tired as I feel when she gives me a small wave.
As I walk along the path back to my cabin, I rub at my sternum, fighting the urge to cry.
I wipe off my hooves and hang up my hat and jacket in the makeshift mudroom we’ve set up in the entryway to the cabin, then head into the living room, where August greets me from his usual spot in the recliner.
He raises a brow at me. “Well?”
My heavy sigh as I head to the fridge to grab a beer speaks loud enough. I don’t drink often, but I’m strung so tight right now I need something to take the edge off.
“That bad, huh?” he asks as I pop off the bottle cap.
“Could’ve been better,” I grumble, running a hand through my hair and taking a swig.
August nods. “Did she want money like you thought? Because I told you, if we need to buy her off, Clara already told me she doesn’t need—”
I shake my head, cutting him off. There’s no way I’m taking my best friend’s money that he’s scraped together hoping to give his daughter her dream wedding.
“She doesn’t want money. Says she wants to learn about the ranch and ‘help’.
” I scoff at the notion. The woman couldn’t even get out of her clothes on her own.
His brow furrows. “You don’t believe her?”
“No, I do. Just don’t like the thought of babysitting her or listening to her tell me how to do my damn job like she has any clue what it takes to run this ranch.”
August’s frown deepens. “She seems like a nice young woman. Why are you assuming the worst?”
“Because it’s not real to her! She’s walking around in a costume, acting like this is some fairy tale where she inherits part of a ranch and has a magical adventure where she learns the meaning of life or some bullshit.
This is our life, August. It’s not a fun diversion; it’s hard work.
” I take another angry swig of my beer. “I can’t believe Dawn did this to us.
Guess it’s one more mess for me to clean up. ”
“Hey.” August places a hand on my shoulder and takes the beer out of my hand. I glare at him, but he holds it away from me. “Don’t drink angry. That never ends well.”
He’s right. Still, I huff at him, and he squeezes my shoulder.
“You don’t have to fix things alone. I’m here and I’m not leaving until they repossess the place and kick us off the land. So take a deep breath, and stop trying to worry about all your problems at the same time.”
I do as he says, and hate to admit that it helps a little.
He smiles, letting go of my shoulder. “Let’s look at the positives. Belle doesn’t want money or to sell the ranch.”
“Yes, but—”
August holds a hand up to stop me from getting agitated again.
“That’s one problem off your back. If she wants to learn about the ranch, let her.
If she’s here for a fantasy, she’ll figure out real quick that’s not the case.
So yeah, maybe you’ll have to deal with a bit of annoyance, but then she’ll be gone before you know it.
” He softens his expression. “But I've gotta be honest, my gut tells me she’s a good person. Maybe a little eccentric, but so was Dawn, and you loved her.”
I’m about to argue that she’s not Dawn and I don’t have to like Belle because they look the same or August’s gut says she’s fine, but August’s words sink in.
Let her learn about the ranch and she’ll figure out it’s not a fantasy.
A plan begins to form. One that’s sure to get Belle out of my hair and back where she belongs in no time.
“Okay. You’re right, I’m worrying about this too much.”
August gives my sudden change of heart and lack of argument a bemused look, but I clap him on the back.
“Thanks for talking it through with me. I’m gonna hit the sack—tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”