Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
LOUISA
H arry spins around, spoon in hand, finger between his lips. He looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and I have never loved him more. It is always a pleasure to see people enjoy my food, but this is next-level satisfying. Seeing him this besotted with my go-to, no-time-to-do-anything-fancy casserole is overwhelming. It almost makes me want to stay in this kitchen for the rest of my days, barefoot and cooking just for him.
Almost.
“You’re back early,” he says, standing.
His hair is damp from a shower, and he’s shirtless.
It’s more than I can take. I drop everything, not bothering to shut the door to keep out the cold, and am in his arms a beat later.
“Is everything alright, Lou?” he mumbles into my hair.
“It is now.” I slide my arms around him, sinking my face into his chest and breathing him in. The last few hours were stressful, to say the least. The diner was my sure thing. But after this week, I have been let go. Darla got wind of me buying out the Mancinis and took it to heart, and not in a good way.
“I lost my job today, Harry.” The words are muffled.
He simply hugs me tighter. Warm strength envelops me, holding steady. I can’t think about what it means for my chances of scraping together the rest of the money to hand over to Mama when it’s due. I can’t see past the hurt in Darla’s eyes as she sat me down after the lunch rush to hear the words from the horse’s mouth.
“What’s this I’m hearin’ bout you buyin’ Mama’s Place?” Darla’s eyes tighten, brows dropping. Worry mixes with hurt as she stares at me from her seat on the other side of the booth table.
I shift on my seat. I’d forgotten how small towns operate. God, I’m an idiot. Of course I should have considered her before making the offer. How this would impact my job.
I’m operating on Cali standards, logic and opportunistic thinking surpassing the village mentality that still runs strong and true through this little town.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think. I’m used to people not caring either way. In Cali ? —”
“This is Lewistown, Montana, Louisa. We’re all like family. You don’t pull the rug out from under family. I guess you’ll be wanting to open for lunch now, seein’ as you have all that stored-up talent and nowhere to put it?”
The words sting. They may sound like a compliment, but they are the furthest thing from one.
“That’s not how this is, Darla. I swear. I have no lunch plans. I mean—no plans to run a lunch service. All this is so new to me, but I needed some place to work and call my own. I’m stayin’, and Mama’s Place affords me that.”
“I see.” She leans back in the chair, folding her arms. She may as well have called it. The end of this conversation. The animosity is practically pouring off her peach uniform in unchecked waves.
“Mama’s Place will maintain the same operating hours it has now. You can’t possibly see this as a threat. Your diner is the best on Main Street.”
“And there’s a reason it is, Louisa. Hand in your uniform and apron after your Friday shift. Cynthia will cover for you from then on.”
“Darla, no. What the hell?”
Heat prickles up my neck and engulfs my face in its hideous flames. I force air in and out of my lungs. Darla rises from the booth.
“This isn’t California, Louisa. Folks around here take this sort of thing personal.” She walks past the counter, disappearing into the back room. I sit there, staring. Any hope I had of funding the remaining payout for the restaurant just went up in smoke along with any goodwill I had here.
Not good.
Really, really not good.
“You needin’ work couldn’t have come at a better time,” Harry whispers.
Confused, I frown, looking up into those blue eyes that are a mix of concern and wonder.
Heavens above, sometimes I can’t get a read on my Harry.
“What d’you mean?” I study his face.
“Well, it so happens I am in desperate need of a ranch hand.” He holds me at arm’s length before turning me side to side, running an inspecting eye over my form. “Not bad. More than I can say for the pay. Which is none.”
The biggest grin splits his face.
How can he be this happy about this?
“Harry, I needed that job to pay out the Mancinis. Unfortunately, I think Darla realized that.”
His face falls instantly.
“That’s fuckin’ low, even for this small town.”
“Yeah, well.” I sigh. “What’s done is done. I need another job that pays the same as the diner.”
“How much an hour was Darla payin’?” he says, letting me go as he walks for the hearth.
“Two thirty an hour.”
He glances back, the concern on his face deepening. “Lou, that’s below minimum.”
“Huh, should have known. Thought maybe she was taking the uniform allowance out.”
He tosses logs onto the sooty bed of the fireplace and stuffs kindling underneath the darker hardwood before lighting it. He pushes back up to his feet, groaning, and heads for the sofa. I round the worn seat and flop down next to him. Swiveling on my seat, I drape my legs over his lap and rest my head on his shoulder.
“I’m not sure if I’ll find anything else. Apparently, word travels fast in this tiny town. But maybe the grocer will take pity on me?” Even the words sound like defeat. Harry lays his head back, staring up at the ceiling.
“How much have you put down, percentage wise?”
“Around a quarter of the total now.”
“You’ve done well, considering Darla underpaid you.”
“Yeah well, might all be for nothing now.”
“No, darlin’.” He turns, his gaze meeting mine. “We will make this work. All of it.”
I huff a small sound that sounds like amazement.
Hell, it is. He never ceases to amaze me.
“You know something, my love?” I say, almost a whisper.
“What?” He leans closer, his arm sliding behind me, tucking me into his side.
My heart all but explodes.
“You are something else, you know. There’s never been a man on this earth who loves as hard, has so much faith in the people he loves, and—” I scrunch my nose up before drawing a long, steadying breath. “Who’s believed in me so unconditionally.”
His lips meet my forehead. “’Bout time you figured it out.” A quiet chuckle shakes his body, now pressed to me.
I huff a breath and it hits his shoulder.
Smart ass.
But he’s right. It took me way too long to learn who this man is to me. I’m done being clueless. If two people ever stood a chance to build something from nothing, it would be Harry and Louisa.
The ache in my legs and sore feet fade as I look up to an angled jaw and deep blue eyes. The five o’clock shadow claiming is face is sexy as hell. All I want to do is melt into him, pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist anymore.
Just for a while.
* * *
The early morning rays have only just splintered the horizon when I roll over to find the bed empty. Harry’s spot is cold. Fragrant aromas of coffee and bacon waft down the hall and rouse me from the warmth of our bed.
I love that. Our bed. Like we are already doing this thing together. Like we are the only two people on God’s green earth.
Out here, maybe we are.
I wander toward the kitchen to find a fully dressed and ready for a workday Harry. Socked feet slide across the hardwood floor as he scoots over to the stove, flipping the bacon sizzling on the heat.
“Hmm, he cooks.”
Harry glances over his shoulder. “A little. Don’t get used to it. It ain’t my forte.”
I chuckle and slide onto a stool at the counter. “Smells just fine.”
“ Fine, she says.” He tosses three strips of bacon onto my plate and plucks a piece of toast from a pile on a plate to the one in his hand. “Here. Rancher’s breakfast, for the newest ranch hand on this old place.”
“You make all your new employees breakfast?” I raise a brow.
“Only the ones I can’t get out of my head.”
I take the plate in exchange for a warm smile. “You know, you should give this ranch a name.” I pick a slice of bacon between two fingers and bite off the end. It’s delicious.
“One day.”
“One day, you need to give many things a name. Like poor old Horse. You can’t possibly expect a girl to give it her all when she doesn’t even have a name, Harry. That is the furthest thing from commitment.”
He looks up at me and stills.
What’d I say?
Commitment?
His jaw feathers as he finally says, “You give her one. She’s yours now.”
My face lights up. “Really?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Really. Can’t go expecting you to work a herd on foot now, can I?”
“What should I call her?”
“Lou, if I knew that, she’d have a name.”
“Of course.” I slip off the stool and head to the refrigerator for the butter and condiments. Back at the counter, I smother the toast in buttery goodness and take a bite.
Nothing beats butter. So simple, so satisfying.
“You and the butter need a minute?” Harry’s voice breaks my savoring moment. I toss a bacon strip at him, and he throws two hands up, snatching it before it hits the ground. “Mine.”
I finish my toast and set the knife on the plate. I round the counter and slide in front of him, between the counter with his food and where he stands. “Anything else you want, Harry?”
His jaw feathers, but he bites the last mouthful of his bacon and chews slowly. His eyes darken for a moment before he swallows, and his hands grip my hips. His stare breaks away only to rove over my tiny sleep tank and shorts.
“Yep, you on a horse in ten.” He winks at me, literally winks at me, as he turns back, kills the stove, and walks back past on his way to the bathroom. Reaching the hall, he turns back.
He raises two fingers to his forehead and salutes me. The breath in my lungs stalls out, like I have any modicum of say in what just happened.
I clear up and get dressed. The only jeans I own will have to do. A pair of old boots sit at the foot of the bed with the old hat of Harry’s I borrow. Sliding the boots on over my socks, I push the hat onto my head. It’s a little big, but it’ll do.
“Now you look like you’re stayin’.”
I spin back to find him leanin’ on the doorframe. He pushes his hat on as his shoulder leaves the jamb. “Come on, this ranch ain’t waitin’ for no man.” His lips curl into a smile. “Guess that should be no woman, this time ’round.”
I close the distance between us. “Guess so.”
He dips his head, his hands taking my face in a rough grip. “I can’t promise you it won’t be hard, only that it’s worth fighting for.”
A stone grows in my throat, lodging tight, but I manage a few syllables.
“The ranch or us, Harry?”
We both know what we’re getting into. The intensity of what we’ve always had wasn’t without its drama. His moodiness. My inability to let things go, the overthinking and worrying.
God, my stupid brain, I should take the statement back...
“I didn’t?—”
His kiss renders me speechless. The panicked thoughts screech to a halt.
When we part, breathless, he pants where he stands. “Hell, woman. How we gonna get any work done when I can’t keep my hands off you?”
“Commitment,” I breathe.
A small smile pulls up on one side of his handsome face, sending my gut flipping like an overcooked pancake.
“We’ll get to that part, darlin’.” He releases me and nods toward the front door.
Damn you, Harry Rawlins, everything is always a double meaning.
I set my shoulders back and slip past his large frame in the doorway, heading for the front door. Footsteps fail to follow, so I glance back. “Come on Harry, wouldn’t want to be caught slackin’ off.”
He shakes his head and is behind me a beat later.
By the time we get to the barn, his hands find my hips, his mouth on my neck.
“Dammit, Louisa May, watching you sway your way to the barn is pure fuckin’ torture.”
Inside the barn, I spin in his hold, walking backward as I look up to his darkened blues. “Work before play, sailor. I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”
“Yes, ma’am” is all he says.
I walk away, leaving him stalled out where he stands, and head for Horse.