Chapter 6
JEREMIAH
Lennon Graves had trouble written all over her. Whether she was in trouble or she was trouble was yet to be determined, but I had a feeling I would soon find out.
She was in the goat yard with Seb. Randy and Michael, two guests who had already been with us for a of couple weeks, were also around.
Randy, a white guy from Vermont, was active Army, on medical leave for the summer.
Michael was a Black EMT from Atlanta. Both were wearing work boots with their jeans because it didn’t matter if they were from the city or country, the nature of military and first responder work had taught them the importance of appropriate footwear for the job.
Some of our guests came here in sneakers, but most wore boots of some kind.
Lennon was here in sandals. Fucking sandals.
Holly came to stand next to me. Neither of us spoke as we watched the scene unfold.
The ranch currently had seven goats—all rescues, all escape artists, and all extremely food-motivated.
Goats were curious, intelligent animals and had a tendency to get into trouble when bored.
A lot like Seb, actually, which was why he claimed them as his project.
Right now, Seb was reconfiguring their obstacle course, and goddammit, he was handing Lennon a hammer.
I took an unconscious step forward like I intended to snatch it back.
Holly cackled. “Oh, this should be fun.”
“She’s going to break a toe,” I muttered. “I don’t like it.” Because I didn’t like the idea of anyone getting hurt on our watch, and that meant Lennon, too. Not especially Lennon. Her safety only felt more urgent because of those fucking sandals, that was all.
“Well, I don’t like it either. Any of it.” Holly kicked at a pebble with her ranch-appropriate cowboy boot. “There’s something not right about her, Jay. You know she’s not military. Why is she here?”
“She could be a first responder.”
Holly shot me an are you kidding me? look.
“Fine. I don’t know why she’s here.” And hell, that bothered me. If she wasn’t military or a first responder, how had she even heard of Mercy River Ranch?
I watched Lennon nod at something Seb said and then carefully place a five-inch nail on a wooden beam.
She glanced up at him for approval, and when he nodded, she tapped the head with the hammer in quick, light movements.
Then she pulled her fingers away and used three hard strokes to send the nail the rest of the way home.
I let out a breath and rolled my shoulders down from my ears. But they tensed right back up again when Seb clapped her on the back, and she grinned at him. Something that felt like a growl rumbled through my chest, but I swallowed it down.
“Maybe Seb knows something,” Holly smirked.
I grunted. I didn’t like not knowing Lennon’s story, but somehow I hated the thought of her confiding in Seb even more. “Our guests’ reasons for being here are not our business unless they make it our business. You know that.”
We took privacy seriously here. Most of our guests opened up eventually, with each other, if not with us. Sharing what had brought them to Mercy River was part of the healing process. But it had to be done on their own terms. Guests didn’t owe us their stories or their pain.
“Every rule has an exception. I’m not suggesting we find her mother’s maiden name and social security number.
Just a basic background, that’s all. A quick tappity-tap on your keyboard and we’ll know if Lennon is someone we need to worry about.
Maybe she killed someone. Maybe she robbed a bank and is hiding out. ”
I snorted. Lennon had moved on to the next nail with more confidence this time. It gave me a funny feeling in my chest, the way she smiled.
“Maybe she works for a development company looking to turn Mercy River Ranch into ugly mansions for Hollywood stars.”
That gave me pause. The ranch and its acres of open land had caught the eye of more than one greedy developer.
Mercy River wasn’t for sale, but there were people in the world that believed everything had a price, and if that price wasn’t willingly given, then it would be taken by force.
Those were the ones you needed to look out for, the ones that hid their dirty work behind a pretty face.
And Lennon’s face was damn pretty.
Reading my silence correctly, Holly pushed her point home. “Keep an eye on her, all right? Let Lennon worry about protecting her privacy. We protect the ranch.”
There was no need to respond, so I didn’t. Holly knew my past. She knew I had once mistaken a wolf for a friend, and my sister had paid the price. I would never make that mistake again.
With her task completed, Lennon looked around for something else to do. Randy waved her over. “You want to give them a treat?”
Oh, hell. My gaze shot to Seb, who was up on the ramp with Michael, fixing the rope-and-plank bridge.
He wouldn’t get to her in time. I was already on the move when Seb called down to them to wait, but it was too late.
Randy handed Lennon a paper cup filled with goat treats.
The goats, not being stupid, advanced. She backed up to the fence and they followed.
I broke into a run. The goats weren’t usually biters, but their sharp hooves would slice her unprotected toes to shreds.
Maybe she would have done something sensible, like throwing the cup away from her, if they hadn’t knocked it out of her hand.
It fell to her sandaled feet. With a little shriek, she turned toward the fence and found me on the other side, a four-foot tall wall of metal mesh separating us.
Our eyes locked.
She reached up. I reached over. “Jump, Lennon.”
She jumped. I caught her under the armpits and heaved her upwards. Her thighs slid against the plastic top rail as I hauled her over the fence to safety. She clung to my neck, her body shaking.
“Hey.” I stroked the ridge of her spine to where it started to curve and then back up again.
Her body was sun-warmed and strong beneath my palm.
I hated that I noticed. Hated that I didn’t want to stop touching her.
It wasn’t a problem I normally had. What a terrible time for my body to wake up. “You’re okay.”
She snorted. “I’m okay, but they won’t be when I make handbags out of their hides.” There was a suspicious tremor in her voice. Her shoulders shook again.
I dipped my chin to get a better look at her. Sparkling dark eyes looked back at me. Light brown irises that turned to green rings around her pupils. Her lips tilted up. Laughing.
She wasn’t scared at all. Lennon was laughing.
Hell. I speared a hand through my hair and tugged. “It’s not funny. You could have gotten hurt.”
“But I wasn’t.” She laughed again.
“You okay?” Randy called through the fence.
I glared at his worried face. “She’s fine.” I glanced up at Seb, who was watching us with a smirk. “She’s okay,” I said, louder for his benefit, not that he seemed all that concerned. He nodded and waved. Was I the only one who took guest safety seriously?
With an annoyed growl, I grabbed Lennon’s hand and tugged her along as I strode toward the lodge.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her tone curious but not distrustful.
“To get you some fucking shoes.”
Lennon regarded Bartholemew’s Ranch and Home with the wide-eyed look of Dorothy leaving her black-and-white world and opening the door to Technicolor Oz. “I have never bought shoes from a store that also sold baby chicks. This place is amazing.”
She hadn’t spent much time in rural areas then. I filed that tidbit of information away. The address she gave us to hold the reservation was in Virginia, but that didn’t tell us much. “City girl?”
She made a noncommittal sound.
“Where did you serve?” I asked casually. I suspected she wasn’t military, but I couldn’t imagine her as a firefighter or an EMT either. Cop was out of the question.
She smirked at me over her shoulder before turning her attention to the rack of boots. “Cowboy, the only thing I serve is face.”
I blinked. She served…face? What the hell did that mean? “Like…Salome?”
“Who is Salome? Is she a model?” She picked up a boot, studied it, then returned it to the rack.
What did models have to do with anything?
“In the Bible. Salome dances for the king, and he likes it so much that he tells her he will grant her one favor. She goes to her mother and asks what she should request. Her mother wants the head of John the Baptist. So Salome demands his death and serves his head to her mother on a platter.”
Lennon stilled, then slowly pivoted to face me. “If the king owed me a favor, I wouldn’t waste it on my mother. If she wants a favor from him, then she can shake her own ass in his direction. My ass, my favor.” With that, she spun back to the shoes.
I cleared my throat. “That’s fair.”
“Damn right it is,” she muttered.
After trying on a few pairs, she selected one to her satisfaction, and we headed for the register. She paused by the rack of coats on post-season sale.
“It gets cold at night. I wasn’t really expecting that.” She pulled one off the rack and held it up. “I didn’t bring a coat or any kind of long sleeves except my hoodie.”
“Some nights could get below freezing. We also take some rides to higher elevations. You will definitely want a coat for that.”
Nodding absently, she ran her hand down the sleeve until she found the price tag dangling from the cuff. She chewed her lip, then shook her head, carefully placing the coat back on the rack. “I think I can get by with my hoodie. I mean, it’s not that cold.”
I squinted at the tag, brow furrowed. Money was tight for most of our guests—firefighters, EMTs, and most military didn’t take home big paychecks, which was why we subsidized with donations and ranch work—but Lennon had never fit that mold.
Everything about her screamed wealth. Her fancy designer sunglasses cost more than one of these clearance coats.
“The ranch will cover it,” I said.
“Really?” Her lips parted in surprise, but then her eyes narrowed. “The ranch will cover it, or you will?”
I shrugged. “It’s all the same.”
Her expression hardened. “No, it’s not. And no, thank you.” She turned away, muttering, “Too good to be true. Men paying for shit is what got me here in the first place.”
My stomach clenched. I didn’t like the sound of that at all.
What men? And what the hell did they do that brought her here?
It was none of my business. I had told Holly that, and I stood by it.
Everyone here had secrets. Things they had seen.
Things they had done. If Lennon had been any other guest at this ranch, I wouldn’t push.
I would let her talk about it on her own terms. But I knew I wasn’t going to do that.
Not this time. Whatever had brought Lennon here, I intended to find out.
But I wasn’t going to let her freeze to death while I did that.
“Then borrow one of mine. It might be loose in the shoulders, but you’re tall. It should fit you well enough.”
She eyed me like she thought it was a trap. “Really?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.” But she kept right on looking at me like she was waiting for the catch. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a problem.”
We walked to the register and I bit my tongue against the urge to offer to pay for her boots.
She wouldn’t accept it, and nothing I had would fit her.
There had been a time when I’d had to accept charity from strangers, and no matter how kindly it was offered, it never ceased to sting a little.
Maybe Lennon felt the same way, but I had a feeling it went deeper than that.
It was more than pride with her. She doubted my motives.
Lennon handed over her credit card at the register. My jaw tightened as I realized there was no name on the card. It was one of those Visa gift cards that anyone could use. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe. But in my experience, little bits of nothing had a way of adding up to something.
Feeling my gaze on her, she glanced back at me, bouncing on her toes slightly like she was preparing to run—her fight or flight instinct kicking in.
Looked like Lennon was a bolter. I focused my attention elsewhere to let her know I wasn’t a threat.
Because a hairpin trigger like that? It was learned.
I didn’t know what brought a woman like Lennon Graves to a place like Mercy River Ranch. And I for damn sure didn’t trust her.
But I fucking hated that she didn’t trust me, either.