The other men added in their compliments until Hazel was certain she was blushing. “Thank you all,” she said again. The praise was like a warm blanket in winter, and it settled around Hazel, making her feel as if just maybe she might belong here.
The men rose to bring their empty bowls to the kitchen. Hazel stood to join them, but before she could take a step, a hand clamped around her wrist. Startled, Hazel nearly dropped her dishes.
Wade glanced down to where his hand dwarfed Hazel’s wrist. Seemingly surprised to see his fingers holding onto her, he let go so fast one might have thought Hazel had burned him. Hazel’s heart thumped erratically, which, she thought, was an odd reaction. It must be because she didn’t expect him to grab her like that.
She watched him a moment, waiting to find out what he needed while the dining room emptied. Mr. Kristiansen glanced back at them, curiosity etched across his face. But he was far too much of a gentleman to say anything, and instead, he ducked out of the room after the rest of the men.
“Yes?” Hazel finally said. The silence—and Wade’s gaze—made her feel restless, as if she were ready to go running out across the expanse of the ranch.
Wade glanced down at his empty bowls. “The meal was good.”
Hazel blinked at him. Had the man actuallycomplimentedher? It took a second for her to regain her composure. “Thank you. I’m happy you enjoyed it.”
He nodded quickly, gathered up his dishes, and began to move toward the door. Hazel watched him, the hope she’d carried out here, all the way from Boston, daring to show its face again. Perhaps he wasn’t the boor he’d presented himself as. Perhaps—
“Breakfast is at six-thirty.” His voice was sharp and clear. “It needs to be quick but filling. And sweep off the porch. If anyone dropped food out there, you’ll see vermin you’ll wish you never met.”
His words squashed that little ray of hope like a rain cloud on a sunny day. Hazel pressed her lips together, trying to funnel all the things she wanted to say to him into something that was succint and didn’t let on how much his demeanor disappointed her. She opened her mouth as he began to walk away, but he quickly turned and spoke first.
“If you’ll meet me down here at five, I’ll show you the cows and the chickens.” The edge to his voice had softened.
He gave her a quick nod. Then he disappeared through the door, leaving Hazel’s head spinning. And her hope flickering—just a bit—from behind the cloud.
Chapter Seven
At precisely 4:59 a.m., Wade left his bedroom and made his way downstairs. To his everlasting relief, Hazel had set herself up in the second bedroom. He’d dreaded coming upstairs last night, fearing that she’d somehow misunderstood the situation. But that, thankfully, hadn’t happened.
Oddly, he’d woken up more than once last night with her words running through his mind.Remember I’m your wife, not your servant. There were so many expectations layered in the wordwife. And what Hazel’s expectations were, Wade didn’t know.
Although he’d wondered about it plenty in the dead of night. And that was when he wasn’t reminding himself that the reason he’d chosen to marry instead of hire help was that he wished to have children to inherit the ranch.
Thatwasn’t something he dared think too much on in the light of day.
The house was silent as he moved down the stairs. Halfway down, the scent of bacon frying in a pan met his nose. His stomach grumbled instantly in response. Sure enough, he found Hazel in the kitchen, expertly turning over strips of bacon.
“Oh, good,” she said. “I’m glad you’re finally awake. I’m in need of some eggs.”
