“Love you,” she whispered, and slipped past me, heading for the kitchen.
I stared after her, that simple phrase nearly knocking me on my ass.
“Damn,” I muttered, leaning on the false bookcase, unsure if it propped me up or if it was the other way around. “I was looking forward to that kiss.”
Chapter 12
Archer
Eve pottered around the kitchen once again filled with the scent of fresh pine boughs and cinnamon that I’d come to associate with Red Hart Ranch. I leaned across the broad solid oak benchtop, surrounded by a selection of glasses and liquor.
Christmas Day was the single calendar day that Red Hart didn’t actively work on. I knew that, and I’d been here last year, but it still felt strange to wake up after the sun rose on a glittering field of fresh snow and not be out working in it.
Breakfast was a slow affair, the ranch hands trickling in close to nine a.m. after their one and only sleep in—and mine. But once we started cooking, Eve, Jude and myself, and everyone else started eating, the conversation started and never stopped for the day.
As soon as we made our way downstairs, Eve had set me bartending duties. That included manning her precious coffee machine. Not that I minded, but I suspected she did it to keep me out of the kitchen while she pottered and worked through the recipes in the book I had given her. Thanks to Red Hart’s never depleted pantry, she could play around with most of them, though her post New Year’s shopping list pinned beside the fridge grew by the minute as she flicked pages.
Watching her play, the faintest smile hinting at the corners of her lips, gave me as much pleasure as feeling her beneath me in her bed. That soft smile was worth every second of the months we’d been apart, the heartbreak that had claimed significant damage on both sides of the line. But the way she involved herself in cooking, in providing for everyone on the ranch… That alone gave me confidence in my choice to bring a contingent of ranch hands back to Red Hart.
Especially when the big house doors opened to admit the loudest person I’d seen all day shortly before dinner.
“Suzy!” Eve yelped as she dashed forward, nearly bowling the older lady over as she de-layered Beanies owner. The White Cap fixture shooed her away, taking a seat at the kitchen bench and refused to move as I placed a tumbler of whiskey in her hands.
“Thank you, Archer. Trader you for that coffee.” She hefted a bag of beans over the benchtop that must have weighed a metric ton.
“You’ll send yourself broke,” Eve scolded her, waving to Natilie who fell in the door, covered with snow and followed by Trader Kyle and his wife, Sienna. They parked themselves at the end of their long table, well away from Joe Brunel’s group who grew rowdier as the night began to set in.
Will sent me a concerned glance but I shook my head, knowing Jude would pull them into line or kick them out before real trouble brewed.
“Fresh coffee?” I offered, weaving a thermos at Eve.
She cast me a quick grin, her gaze flicking back to the recipes that she was still trawling through, making extra lists.
“Sure. I think there’s some gingerbread flavoring on the bench if it hasn’t run out. Watch Natalie. She has that stuff on ice cream like it’s going out of fashion.” Eve trailed her finger down the line of ingredients listed on the page, tapped one and disappeared into the pantry.
I glanced at Natalie who turned a shade of red and ducked away.
“Be quick with that.” Jude leaned his back against the bench at my side, nodding to the growing line of ranch hands clamoring for their round of Christmas spirits. “You sure you’re up for this?”
“Of course?” I shrugged. How different could pouring a stack of drinks for some thirsty ranch hands be? Surely it couldn’t be worse than dealing with a staff Christmas function.
Thirty whiskey sours, a dozen beers and a vodka martini later, I had a new appreciation for bar staff.
Jude raised his cocktail from across the room, saluting me. I shot him a dirty look, though the corner of my mouth turned up.
Not bad, Ranger,he mouthed.
I snorted as I cleaned up the empty bottles, logging them to a mental itinerary. Eve’s kitchen might be full, but there was a significant lack of top shelf spirits I intended to stock her cellar with.
A single glass clanked onto the bench in front of me.
I looked up into eyes so similar to Eve’s, but these barely hid the shadows that still haunted him.
It wasn’t only the ranch hands I was glad I had invited back to Red Hart.
“Travis,” I nodded warily as he slid his glass forward. “Didn’t see you come in. What can I get you?”
Eve’s twin regarded me with a shuttered face for a long moment, and he nodded. “How about a damn fine dose of gratitude for looking after my sister for the last few weeks?”
