Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
REECE
I t felt like someone had stretched out my muscles to the point where they’d all recoiled and then turned to stone.
I swung my feet over the side of the bed and forced myself to sit up.
“Ohhh, that’s not good,” I grumbled as the pain lanced through my side.
It had been two weeks since the incident that had left me with these bruises. Watching them slowly fade was the only thing that kept me going while I was planning my exit. I’d managed to get to a clinic before leaving my old life behind, and knowing I’d only bruised my ribs had been a relief I hadn’t been expecting. I knew I couldn’t leave until I’d been checked out. I didn’t want to risk being registered in the system anywhere that could help him trace my location.
The system.
What was I? Some kind of spy?
I looked around the cute little bedroom again in wonder. Turning up here was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I might be okay with being murdered in my sleep if this was where it happened.
Getting into the car with Booker had been possibly the stupidest and yet the best thing I’d ever done. Lying low on the ranch to recover and build up some savings was exactly what I needed. But I could also have easily ended up in the basement, tied up, and making friends with the rats.
Desperation made people do stupid things, and I needed to make sure I never put myself in a situation like that again.
I stood up with a wince and headed into the bathroom. This place was clearly set up as some kind of holiday cottage, and I was surprised that Booker would be happy to have something like that so close to his own house. He didn’t come across as the most social person in the world, but there was clearly a big heart hiding underneath all that barbed wire he liked to pretend was there.
Hugging him might have been a mistake. I chuckled at the memory of the Booker-shaped hole he’d nearly left in the wall. The poor guy couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
I turned on the shower to let the water heat while I brushed my teeth, all the while staring at my face in the mirror. The black eye was changing to that horrible green color, but at least that meant it was healing.
I rushed through the shower. Washing my hair was getting easier, but I never wanted to experience agony like that again, and I made that vow right here and now.
Never again.
I would never let myself get in a situation with a man where I was too blind to see the signs. Where I was too isolated to feel like I had anyone who could protect me. Where I didn’t have some kind of escape route.
My eyes locked onto my reflection as I examined the job I’d done with the few makeup supplies I had. It wasn’t good. I looked like a woman with a black eye who’d tried—and mostly failed—to cover it up. Then I sighed. This was as good as it was going to get. At least it was fading now and, hopefully, wouldn’t be a problem for much longer.
My stomach grumbled as I quickly pulled on some jeans and a shirt. I didn’t really have any work clothes, not that I had any idea what work I’d be doing, so I slipped on my sneakers just as there was a loud knock on the door.
I pulled it open to find Booker scowling on the other side. He looked down at his watch as if I was supposed to know what that meant.
When I said nothing, he sighed.
“What are you still doing here?”
“Erm, you said I could have a job and stay in the cottage.” I couldn’t lose this place already, and I was ready to beg for that job if that was what it took.
He sighed again. “It’s already nine a.m. Why are you not in my kitchen for breakfast?”
My back snapped straight, and I immediately regretted it as a flash of pain surged from my ribs, taking my breath away. Booker must have noticed because his scowl deepened before he turned and stormed back to the house.
I swore softly and hurried after him. I should have realized that this was my job. Even if it wasn’t, it was the least I could do, considering he’d essentially pulled me out of a burning car.
Damn. Booker was literally my hero, and I couldn’t remember if I’d actually thanked him yet.
I hurried through the back door and then came to a stop so suddenly my sneakers squeaked on the floor.
The kitchen table was set and laid out with enough food for a whole family. There was a pot of coffee and a jug of orange juice. My mouth was already watering from the delicious smell of bacon floating my way.
“Sit,” Booker said as he pulled out a chair.
I scurried into it, my eyes fixed on the food like I was afraid it would disappear if I looked away. My stomach grumbled embarrassingly, and Booker’s gaze dropped to my abdomen before returning to my face.
Booker pushed a tube of cream toward me, and I looked at it curiously. Arnica.
“I’ll make you an appointment with the doc in the next town over for this afternoon,” Booker said, like it was already a done deal.
“No need.” His head snapped up, and I could tell he was getting ready to fight me on this. It was kind of endearing. I quickly added, “I went to the clinic last week. I’m healing nicely, and there’s nothing to do but ride it out.”
This was a conversation I didn’t want to have. Judging from Booker’s face, he didn’t either. Or rather, he hated it was even a conversation to begin with.
“Thank you for this,” I said, taking the tube of arnica and sliding it a little closer to me.
I didn’t really need it at this stage, but I could see that it made Booker feel better, and it didn’t cost me anything to do this for him.
“When did you last eat?” he asked a little less angrily as he took his own seat.
I shrugged, even though I actually did know when it was. I just didn’t want to admit to him that I was a grown woman who’d gone more than a day without eating. I didn’t want to continue to be this charity case he needed to save. I wanted to get back to the person I used to be, and part of that would happen by taking control of my life again.
Booker leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms across his chest like he was getting ready to wait me out. Thankfully, Val chose that moment to drop her head on his leg and whine until he relented and gave her a sausage link, which she took to her basket.
“She’s a good dog,” I murmured, watching her fondly. “What breed is she?”
Yes, it was a pathetic attempt to change the subject, but I wasn’t ready to tell Booker my sad stories. I wanted to just be me for a moment. That shouldn’t be too much to ask for.
“Australian Shepherd,” he muttered, reaching for the coffeepot and holding it up as he looked at me in question. I nodded as he gestured to the plates of food on the table. “Eat.”
I was so hungry I could feel that pinch in my stomach that I’d been able to ignore, thanks to the pain in my side. I only put two pieces of bacon on my plate and some scrambled eggs. There was an awkward part of me that didn’t want Booker to think I was using him. I wanted to prove to him that taking me in wasn’t a mistake.
Booker slammed the coffeepot down with more force than necessary, and I peered up from my plate in concern.
“Eat properly,” he growled, nudging a plate closer to me.
It was exactly what we needed for the awkward tension to snap, and I heaped the food on my plate, tucking in with a happy hum.
When I glanced up at him between mouthfuls, I saw the slight smile on his face and felt a little more of the tension drain out of me. Booker’s attitude would probably annoy some people, but I appreciated him not treating me like I was some kind of broken bird.
“This is the smallest barn on the property,” Booker said as we walked through the sliding doors, which were already open. “It’s closed up at night or if the weather turns.”
I wandered inside, looking around with interest. Should I confess that I’d never been in a barn before, and the only stables I’d ever seen had been in movies?
This place was impressively clean, and even though there was the smell of the ranch in the air, it was nowhere near what I’d expected it to be.
Booker wandered down the open central walkway with Val on his heels. I could almost see the tension leaking out of his body as we walked into what was clearly his favorite place.
“Are there other barns, then?” I asked.
“Yes. There are two more, one we’re renovating at the moment. This one will be your concern, though.”
I nodded, trying to look like I knew what I was doing.
“This is where the horses come when they first arrive.”
I looked into the nearest stable only to find it empty but lined with clean sawdust on the ground. In fact, from the sound of it, there weren’t any animals in the barn right now.
“Are the horses in the fields already?” I asked, hoping that didn’t sound like a stupid question.
“Yes. But this barn is empty because we haven’t had any new arrivals for a while. They stay here to be quarantined and heal before they mix in with the rest. There’s also a foaling stable set up here, not that it gets much use.”
That made sense. I guess.
“Why do they all need to heal?”
“I take some in on a private contract basis for training. People send problem horses to me that haven’t been trained properly or are too reactive,” Booker said, looking inside one of the empty stalls and then nodding in satisfaction at whatever he saw there. “Most of the horses that come to the ranch, though, come from kill pens. They’re in bad shape when they get here.”
My mouth dropped open in horror. “Kill pens?” I whispered.
Booker apparently rescued horses as well as broken women on the side of the road. He might actually be some kind of saint.
He shrugged like it was no big deal, and I could see that he was the kind of person that thought it wasn’t.
He also genuinely looked uncomfortable to be receiving any kind of praise, so I ducked down and scratched Val behind the ears. I swear she smiled as she looked up at me with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Her coat was so soft that I had to resist the urge to lie down on the floor just to snuggle with her.
“Your job is to keep this place clean and ready to go,” Booker said, turning back to the doors and heading back outside. Apparently, we were done with the part of the conversation about how impressive Booker was.
“Okay, I can do that.”
Probably.
“I’ll give you a list of what needs doing every day, and I can be around for the first couple of days to show you the ropes. We have a new horse arriving tomorrow, so it’s good timing.”
Hopefully, I looked like I was confident I could do this.
“Grab your stuff,” Booker called out as he walked out into the sunshine. “We’re going into town.”
I found myself jogging to catch up with him again and fighting the urge to swear with every step I took. Val ran alongside me, looking up at me with concern.
“What stuff?”
Booker was already at the door to his truck, squinting at me from under the brim of his hat. I was literally five steps behind him. He couldn’t be annoyed with me already.
“Your girl shit,” he said, and then when I didn’t move from sheer confusion, he huffed, “You know, like your bag or whatever you carry around with you.”
“Ooooo-kay.”
Rather than argue, I did what he said. It seemed like the easiest option in this fever dream of reality I’d found myself in.
It took me less than a minute to find my bag and get back to the car, but Booker was still standing at the door, watching me impatiently. It was pretty easy to see that this was his default setting when it came to other people. Rather than taking it personally, I pasted a huge smile on my face and climbed into the truck when he opened the door for me.
I was going with the tactic my mother had always told me. I’d wear this big bear of a man down with kindness, and then, to repay him for everything he’d done for me, I’d show him that having people around you wasn’t so bad after all.
Maybe I’d be able to find myself along the way. The version of me that had slowly faded away over the past couple of years and the version I was so desperate to have back.
As Booker threw the truck into drive and set off down the gravel driveway, I wrapped an arm around Val, who’d squeezed between us, and threaded my fingers through her soft fur as she snuggled against me.
I could do this.
I could rebuild a life that I wanted. A life worth living, and it would all be possible because the man sitting beside me had the kindness to stop when he saw a stranger stranded on the side of the road.