“You start tomorrow morning. Six A.M. sharp. There’s enough food in the trailer to last a few days. I’ll bring you a quart of milk. After that, board’s on you. If you’re still here, you’ll need to make a trip into town for groceries.”
Relief filtered through her, so strong it made her head swim. She had a place to stay where no one would look for her. She had a job, which meant food and money for necessities. If he kept her on, she’d find a sitter to watch Ivy. She’d have time to figure things out, make a new plan.
She took a step back, set an arm around her little girl’s shoulders, and drew her forward. “This is my daughter, Ivy. Ivy, this is Mr. Cain.”
“Hello, Ivy,” he said. He had an unusual voice, deep and resonant, but at the same time soft and oddly compelling.
Ivy shrank back.
“Say hello, honey,” Tory said.
“I don’t want to stay. I want to go.” Clinging to Tory’s waist, she burrowed into her.
“She’s shy,” Tory said.
“The trailer’s unlocked,” Cain said. “It’s clean and ready to go.”
“Thank you.”
He turned and started striding back to the barn. She probably should have been at least a little afraid of him. Oddly, she wasn’t.
Then again, she hadn’t been afraid of Damon, either.
* * *
At six A.M. the next morning, Josh checked his watch. Time to go to work and no sign of the woman.
Hell, he was an idiot. Now he had a woman and her kid living in his trailer. No way could he expect her to do a man’s work. She could stay a couple of days; then she had to go.
He just hoped to hell she kept her word and left without giving him any more trouble.
Carrying his empty plate of bacon and overcooked eggs to the sink, he turned on the water and rinsed off the plate and his utensils as heavy footfalls sounded on the porch.
Not the woman, the wranglers who’d just started working for him. Noah Beal and Cole Wyman were former marines, disabled vets whose abilities were often underestimated, guys who needed the work and took pride in doing a good job. Josh felt lucky to have them.
He grabbed his battered straw hat, opened the front door, and stepped out on the porch. “Morning. You guys want a cup of coffee before you head out?”
“I’m good,” Cole said.
“Me, too,” said Noah.
Both men were in their late twenties, two or three years younger than Josh’s thirty-one. Cole, who had lost both legs just below the knee to an IED, had dark blond hair and a face women loved. He wore metal lower limb prostheses, and he could do damn near anything any other man could do.
Noah had brown hair and more rugged features. He’d lost an arm in Kabul, but it didn’t slow him down. Determined to live their lives to the fullest, both men managed to get in a workout at the gym most days and had the hard bodies to prove it.
Noah was married to a smart and pretty young woman who suited him perfectly. Cole, whose girl had broken up with him when she discovered he had lost his legs, was resentful and unsure of himself when it came to women, still finding his way with the opposite sex.
They all headed off to the vehicle shed where he kept a pair of four-wheel ATVs, a UTV side-by-side, and his white Ford F-150.
“How much longer till you finish the east pasture, you think?” he asked.
“We’ve got at least four more days,” Cole said.
“You’re actually ahead of schedule,” Josh told them. “When you’re finished, you can start on the pasture to the north. Whole ranch needs new fencing. Ought to keep you busy for a while.”
The men climbed onto the ATVs, one of which towed a trailer loaded with fencing materials, and they took off down the two-track lane into the fields.
Josh glanced around. Still no sign of the woman. He’d thought she would at least show up on time the first day. But then he’d never been a good judge of women.
