Chapter Ten
Mercy and Bryar met, and they were instant friends. This helped Mercy feel more at ease.
“I’m so excited to have someone my age on the ranch. Don’t get me wrong, I love the crew, but we needed some feminine blood around here.” Bryar leaned in and whispered. “I can’t include Jess because I highly suspect that she’s more bear than human. Please don’t think unkindly of me for saying that, it seems the pregnancy hormones have completely obliterated my filter.”
Mercy laughed. “Don’t worry. I met her, so I understand. If you don’t mind me asking, why do you keep her if she ruffles so many feathers?”
“Well…good workers are hard to find, and Jess can knock out her chores just like that.” Bryar snapped her fingers. “Now, where were we? That’s right. Chili.” She scanned the ingredients laid out on the kitchen counter. “I feel like I’m missing something. Yes, I am. Can you grab a pound of Angus from the refrigerator?”
“Sure.” Mercy opened the refrigerator and stared inside, as if she were looking into a car engine. She had no idea what Angus was. “Here it is.” Bryar said, squeezing in and taking out one of the white packages.
“Sorry. I must have missed it,” Mercy returned to the cutting board and knife to start chopping the vegetables. At least she had decent chopping skills.
“How about chopping the jicama?” Bryar said as she dropped the meat into a pot.
Mercy froze. She scanned the peppers, onions, and tomatoes, and had no clue where the jicama was, let alone what it was.
Bryar tapped Mercy on the shoulder.
She met Bryar’s curious gaze.
“Any experienced—or anyone who cooks regularly—would know that jicama doesn’t belong in chili,” Bryar said with a sigh. “What am I missing?”
“I’m sorry. I just—”
“I get it. You’re saving Jag from cooking. None of those men wanted the kitchen duty, and I partially blame my husband. He was supposed to find someone a long time ago to take the position. These men were born to get their hands dirty on the land, not frying up meat. I should have found someone myself, but, well, baby brain is a common phenomenon. I completely let it slip my mind, too. However, if I had been organized, you wouldn’t be here. Standing in for Jag makes you a fantastic cousin. How much do you know about cooking, though?”
“I’m not entirely useless in the kitchen, and not entirely useful either.”
Bryar’s mouth drooped. “What can you do?”
“I’m pretty good at chopping. I can dump things into the crockpot and make a decent meal.”
“Hmm. When you’re cooking for this many hungry men, dumping is required. They won’t complain about what they’re eating, as long as they’re eating. Ranching is a hard job, so we need to keep their bellies full. Hangry is never welcome with these many men in one spot.”
“I understand. I’m a fast learner.”
“Well, that’s a start. I have something useful.” Bryar strode over and looked over a shelf of books, coming back with one—a thick one, which didn’t intimidate Mercy. She liked her books thick. “When I married Puma, a woman from church gifted me this cookbook.” Bryar turned it around so Mercy could read the title. The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through His Cowboy Beans.
“Interesting.”
“She insisted that all the information I needed could be found in here, and she was right,” Bryar said. “I’ve never excelled at cooking, and my measuring skills are even poorer. Each recipe in this book is as simple as making a pie, although I don’t know who created that analogy because making pie isn’t easy.” She laughed. “This should be your bible until you get spunky enough to try other recipes. If all else fails, there’s a crockpot in the pantry, but don’t make the mistake I made once. I forgot to hit start, and the crew didn’t eat until midnight.”
“Oh no. What did you do?” Mercy visualized a kitchen full of angry men.
“You’ll find that they all have a lot of patience. I threw together a couple of charcuterie boards, and it got them through. So I advise you to keep a variety of easy meals on hand, just in case. Not only for recipe fails, but we get some strong storms out here, and the electricity is known to go out. We have generators, but we save them for the freezers that are stocked with meat. Which, before I forget, all the meat you’ll need is in the two large freezers at the bottom of the basement stairs. The rest of the fresh food and pantry items will need to be restocked twice a month. I have a cheat sheet hanging in the pantry. All you need to do is take it with you and grab those items. The debit card for expenditures is kept in the Security office. You’ll find it in the top drawer of the desk in an envelope marked Kitchen .”
“You seem to have everything systematized. I hope I don’t mess things up,” Mercy said, feeling overwhelmed again.
“What do you do for work?”
“I work with computers.” Mercy decided it was best not to get into too much detail. Talking about infiltration and hacking might make Bryar suspect something.
“Do you ever make a mistake while working?”
The fiasco with going undercover and nearly getting herself killed by Cross came to mind. “Yes, I do. More than I care to admit.”
“And what do you do when you make a mistake?” Bryar used a hand can opener and began the task of opening cans of tomatoes.
“I learn from them and they don’t happen again.”
“So that’s what you’ll do in this position.” Bryar’s shoulders slumped. “I know it seems like you’ll be here at the stove all the time, but you won’t be. Get outside and enjoy the land. Ride a horse. Pet the animals. Enjoy the sunsets. And think of feeding the cowboys as important as working the land.”
“Thank you—and thank you for not being angry that I can’t cook.”
“Angry? Why would I be? Honey, we have a different mindset here in the country. We only get angry when we plan to flip some tables. Just because we’re women doesn’t mean we’re cooks. Honestly, I hate cooking, but we all need to chip in to keep the ranch running. I prefer mucking stalls to being in here, but when I discovered I was pregnant, Puma insisted I take it easy.” She touched her rounded belly lovingly. “Now my doctor feels I should stay off my feet until she’s born.”
“Then here, sit down and I’ll do all the work. You can supervise me.” Mercy pulled out one of the cushioned stools.
“I think I’ll take you up on it. I swear, this baby loves using my bladder as a pillow.” Bryar slowly lifted herself onto the chair, holding her belly as if she were about to topple over.
“You must be so happy?” Mercy smiled.
“I am. Very. Do you have any kids?”
“Oh no.” Mercy cut into the pepper. “That hasn’t crossed my mind. I don’t know if having children is something I’ll ever be ready for.”
“My first pregnancy had been a surprise. I was barely eighteen, and Puma and I reacted out of fear. We rushed off and got married. I’m not saying I regret it, but we were kids.”
“Wow. I didn’t realize you two had been married that long.”
Bryar frowned. “We separated after we lost our son.”
Mercy paused in chopping. “I’m so sorry. That must have been very painful.”
“I lost a piece of myself when I lost Blake.” She appeared to struggle to pull herself out of her thoughts. “I think my doctor wants me to take it easy more for my anxiety than for the pregnancy. Puma watches over me like a hawk. I do understand. After Blake…well, it can make a person worry even when there isn’t any quantifiable reason.”
“I’m sure you both are very ready to meet your daughter.”
“Definitely. Anyway, enough about me.” Bryar waved a dismissive hand. “I hope you’ll feel right at home. It’ll be an adjustment, I’m sure, but there are lots of things the ranch offers.
“I’m already starting to adjust,” Mercy said.
With Bryar’s assistance, Mercy had the chili pot simmering on the stove by dinner time. Cornbread was in the oven, and a simple dessert was in the fridge. She felt like she’d tackled something grand.
Puma had shown up and whisked Bryar away, leaving Mercy alone as she heard the back door open and the first cowboy strolled into the kitchen. It didn’t quite surprise her that it was Bones. His clothes looked as if he’d been wallowing in a dirt bath.
“Do I have you all to myself?” Bones’s grin could melt a woman’s heart. He seemed genuine and kind-hearted, but Mercy didn’t feel anything for him. Her thoughts were preoccupied with Jag, whom she’d spent most of the day anticipating seeing again.
More cowboys strolled in as she mentally tried to save their names to her internal hard drive. Each stopped to reintroduce himself and complimented her on how good dinner smelled.
“Damn. I’m starving.” The husky voice made Mercy whip around. Jag had arrived and all her alarms sounded. He looked exactly like what he was—a hardworking cowboy who’d put in a long day.
She smiled at him and took in the fit of his checked chambray that hugged his broad chest. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off the ink on his forearms. She wanted to stare, but she didn’t want to draw attention from him or the crew.
As she stood at the sink, she saw his reflection through the window. The butterflies were fluttering inside her stomach. “Need any help?” Bones asked. He was standing close enough to touch her.
“Will you grab the dessert from the fridge?”
“Sure thing.”
Mercy caught Jag watching the exchange.
She took two pitchers to the table, one with tea and the other lemonade. She squeezed next to Jag, and his arm brushed her hip. She jerked spilling some of the lemonade onto his lap.
She set the pitchers on the table and picked up a napkin from a basket. “Can you handle wiping the wetness yourself?”
They exchanged a heated look.
“I think I can,” he whispered.
She stepped back into the kitchen and tried to get beyond the brain fog. She turned and bumped into Jag’s iron-hard chest. “Sorry,” she said, looking into his smiling expression.
“We’re missing a jar of jalapenos,” he said evenly.
“Okay. Let me see.”
“You’ll find one in the pantry.”
“Okay. The pantry.” She stepped inside the room, which was filled with stocked shelves.
She didn’t realize he’d followed her inside until she caught his scent—a lethal combination of leather and masculinity.
Nervously, she found a row of jars, each containing a wide variety of jalapenos: pickled, mild, hot, and southern-style. “Do you have a preference?”
“I like spicy.”
The top shelf was too tall for her so she climbed atop the step-stool.
“Do you need some help?” he asked.
“No, I think I got this.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, leaning back against the door frame and watching her.
That only made her more anxious, so when the jar came down a little too fast for her expectations, she lost her balance and landed in his capable arms.
She heard a moan and realized it came from her.
He grinned, but he made no move to put her down.
“A panther, huh?”
One brow lifted over his dazzling eyes. “The tattoo? Yeah. It was my first.”
She nodded. You can put me down now , she thought, but didn’t say the words aloud. Did she want to be back on her feet? It wasn’t a top priority.
“How’d the first day go?” He sounded breathless.
“Bryar helped. I’m on my own tomorrow.” At least she had the cookbook Bryar had given her.
“You’ll be fine. It smells delicious,” he said, his tone slightly tremulous.
“Thank you.” She stared up at him. Would he kiss her? She wanted him to kiss her.
Then one brow curved. “Do you smell something burning?”
“Burning?” Then she remembered. “Oh no! The cornbread.“
He quickly put her down, and she ran to the oven.
She opened the door and a puff of black smoke rolled out. She took the pan out and set it on the stove. Waving away the last cloud of smoke, she saw that the top was golden brown. Thankfully, she caught the bread just in time.
“I’ll grab the bowls and take the pot to the table,” Jag offered.
“Thank you.” She felt out of her comfort zone after being held in his arms. She didn’t take her eyes off him as she cut the pan of cornbread and placed the squares into a bread basket.
Carrying it to the table, she started to walk away, and Bones stopped her. “Aren’t you going to join us?”
Her gaze naturally went to Jag, who was busy eating. “I-I don’t know if I’m supposed to. Am I allowed?” she said.
“Who’s going to stop you?” Atlas laughed.
“We’ll be offended if you don’t,” Bear said around a mouthful of cornbread.
“There’s an empty chair right here.” Bones jumped up and pulled the chair next to him out for her.
Bones spooned some chili into a bowl and placed it in front of her. The basket of cornbread was passed around the table, and she took a piece, biting into the warm bread. She almost choked. Although the top was golden, the bottom was black. Glancing around the table, no one seemed to notice but her.
Embarrassment filled her as she laid the bread aside.
“This is the best chili I’ve ever had,” Jag said, already going in for seconds.
“Save me some of that,” Bear muttered.
“The cornbread is just like I like it,” Atlas said with a big smile.
Moisture filled Mercy’s eye. Although the chili was good, she doubted it was the best Jag ever had, but she valued how each of the men wanted to make her feel appreciated. Suddenly, she was overcome with a feeling of…home. Right here amongst burly, rough men who were respectful and kind.
During dinner, amongst the clanking and clattering of silverware hitting bowls, there was chatter about the day’s work. Although Mercy didn’t understand much of it, she enjoyed listening to the easy banter.
“Where are you from?” Crow asked. She’d learned that he didn’t talk a lot.
“Denver,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
“You’re a city girl,” Arrow chimed in.
“I guess you could say that.”
And then just as quickly, the crew started discussing the time Atlas got arrested for a minor indecent exposure offense in Denver.
She half listened because her attention kept wandering to Jag. He hadn’t said a word during dinner. He seemed intently focused on his food.
Bowls scraped clean, the men began to disperse. She thought Jag would leave, too. Instead, he lingered and helped her clear the table. “You don’t have to stay. I’m sure you’re tired,” she told him as he began loading the dishwasher.
“We’re in this together. I’d wait and walk you to the cottage anyway. I might as well make myself useful.”
Together, they finished the dishes, wiped down the table and countertops, and left the farmhouse for the cottage. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jag asked.
“It wasn’t at all. Bryar is nice, and she helped me feel more confident that I can do this. I believe she and I will become close friends. I just felt guilty for not revealing the whole truth.”
“The whole truth?”
“She realized I don’t have experience as a cook, but she assumed you persuaded me to come so you wouldn’t have to tackle the responsibilities.”
“Keep in mind, you’re not lying to anyone. In some situations, we must keep details from others.”
“I understand.” She didn’t see the hole in the path and almost tripped, but Jag caught her.
His fingers pressed into her arm, sending goosebumps down her skin, reminding her of how he had held her when they were in the pantry. “Here, take my elbow.” He crooked his arm. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“It seems you just keep on saving me from breaking my neck.” And she wished he’d either stop getting her heart pumping or get it beating faster.
She laid her fingers on his elbow and they continued to the cottage. The lamp offered a welcoming light as they entered. The place felt cozy and she didn’t mind coming there after a long, hard day.
“How about a beer before bed?” he asked, taking off his boots next to the door.
“Sure. I’ll go change and meet you on the patio.”
“I need to go shower first.” He sniffed his armpits. “You wouldn’t want to be too close to me.”
“See you there.”
She could hear the water spray through the walls as she searched through a drawer for something to wear. She pulled out a T-shirt and sweats, and the burner phone she had tucked away dropped to the floor at her feet. She quickly swiped it up and hid it. Jag would take it from her if he knew she had it.
In her line of work, she’d learned a few tricks of the trade. When she and Mateo had stopped at the gas station, she’d snuck and bought the phone. She didn’t want to put anyone in danger, but she felt like the phone was a safety net.
She changed, grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge, and took them to the patio. She sat down and stared up into the sky. The stars were beautiful, helping her forget for a moment the mess of her life.
“I feel like a new man,” Jag said as he stepped out onto the patio.
Water droplets dripped from the ends of his hair onto the white T-shirt. He wore grey sweatpants that made Mercy’s imagination run wild.
He could have sat down anywhere, but he chose to sit next to her. She didn’t mind.
“It’s so quiet here,” she said thoughtfully. “The stars are so bright. It feels like we could reach out and touch them if we stood on our tiptoes.”
He nodded. “I’ve been to many places in the world. This is one of the greatest places.”
“Where were you before you came here?” She tucked her knees to her chest.
“In Tennessee, living in a cabin on a secluded mountain.”
“You were a mountain man, huh?”
“I think technically it’s called isolating.”
“Why, Jag?” She truly wanted to peel back the layers.
He shrugged. “Hell, if I truly understood why, I could tell you. I came back to friendly soil, and I felt like I didn’t belong. I knew I no longer belonged in a uniform. But it just didn’t feel right to wake up every morning without having a terrorist to chase.”
“And now?”
He fleetingly met her gaze. “I’m finding my way. Easing into civilian life.”
“Do you often have nightmares?”
“Sometimes. Did I wake you with one?” Tension filled his expression.
“Yes, last night. I wanted to help, but I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was.”
“It didn’t scare you?” he asked, raising a brow.
“No. If a man like Cross doesn’t scare me, I think I can handle your nightmares. What are your plans? Will you stay here long term? What do you see in your future?” She took a long sip from the bottle, enjoying the relaxation after a long day.
“No clue. I’m taking each day as it comes.”
She picked at the corner of the label, reflecting on the day’s events. “The cornbread was pretty burnt,” she said.
“No, not burnt,” he said.
“Jag…”
“Fine. Maybe a little, but did anyone complain?” He chuckled.
“Something tells me every single one of them is too gentlemanly to complain about a woman’s cooking.”
“It’d be considered disrespectful. And honestly, the chili was so damn good no one cared about the cornbread.” He seemed to ease deeper into the chair.
“It felt like a huge accomplishment. I know, it was just chili, but to me it proved to myself that I can do more than I think I can.” “Glad you feel that way.” The moonlight cast his profile in light. “The crew usually visits Crazy Shades on Fridays. After a long week, it’s nice to unwind with a couple of beers and good music. They also have a mechanical bull.”
“Is this an invitation?”
“If you’re not interested in going, then I won’t either,” he said, emptying his beer and placing the bottle on the table.
“I’d like to go.” She wouldn’t mind getting to know the crew better.
“Good.” He sighed. “I should be getting to bed.” He lingered for a moment.
“Jag?”
“Yeah?” He looked at her.
There was so much she wanted to say, but the words stuck to her tongue. “You and me both. Bed. I’m exhausted.” She stood, and he stood. For a long moment, they stared at one another.
“Don’t, Mercy,” he said raggedly.
“Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“You know how you’re looking at me.”
She swallowed the discomfort in her throat. “You can’t deny the chemistry between us.”
“There is chemistry, but there are also mountains.”
“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you and my brother hadn't become friends and we had met?”
“I know where you’re going with this. I’m not who you think I am. I’m damaged from my past.”
“We’re all damaged in some way.”
He tore his hand through his hair. “I’m unrepairable. Now go to bed.”
Sighing, she stepped inside and headed to bed…alone.
She needed to be careful. Her heart was vulnerable, and she didn’t know how to protect it from Jag.