“Well, you didn’t know that, did you?”
“Neither did you, and yet you came charging in here.” She removed the oven mitt and pushed the casement window open farther.
Gunner turned on the oven fan, and the loud hum joined thebleepof the smoke detector.
“Emerson’s shutting off the alarm.”
His gaze drifted around the smoky kitchen as the adrenaline faded.
Settle down. Everything’s fine. No harm done.
There was no roaring fire about to tear through the house. Or singeing heat that could melt skin from bones. Just a loaf of burnt bread.
And his soaring blood pressure.
No one’s hurt. No one died.
Charlotte peered at him like a skittish horse assessing a potential threat—because Gunner had just stormed into his boss’s house andyelled at her.
He winced as he ran a hand over the scar on his stomach, feeling the rigid network of bumps through his T-shirt. His heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest. The aftereffects of the adrenaline rush had left him shaky and restless.
Thebleepingstopped. Silence fell over the room and the space between them bloomed with tension.
The scare had set him off in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Had caused him to overreact. And the timing couldn’t have been worse. Charlotte had known him for only a matter of days. And he’d just given her reason to question his composure. Unhinged people were useless for horse training. Animals sensed human emotion. And Gunner had just completely lost his cool. It was out of character, but she couldn’t know that.
Maybe this job didn’t pay so great, but he didn’t want to lose it. He wanted to help her take this place to the next level. There was a lot to learn here about ranching, and he could see how much it meant to Charlotte. Plus, this little town in the valley was pretty and peaceful. He’d been looking forward to hiking the trails and doing a little fishing on his days off. But now his job might be on the line.
Even so, smoke still hazing the air, he couldn’t seem to keep from asking, “You do have a fire extinguisher on hand, don’t you? In case of emergencies?”
She gave a sharp nod. “Of course I do... It’s in the pantry.”
A woman burst into the kitchen waving a hand in front of her face. She was younger than Charlotte, with wavy blonde hair and an athletic build. Must be the sister Charlotte had mentioned.
“Wow, it’s awful in here,” the woman said.
Charlotte frowned at her. “You forgot you were reheating the bread?”
“Forgive me if I was a little distracted. Someone delivered some unexpected news and I was caught a little off guard.”
He’d have to be clueless to miss the tension between them.Now that he thought of it . . . when he’d charged into the house, the strain had already been there. He’d been so intent on keeping Charlotte safe that it hadn’t registered.
He extended his hand to the woman. “You must be Emerson. I’m Gunner.”
The woman’s attention shifted to him, the spark of irritation fizzling from her blue eyes as she sized him up. “You’re the new trainer. Yep, I’m Charlotte’s sister—and co-owner of the ranch,” she added with a hitch of her chin.
That was new information. “I apologize for the abrupt entry.” His gaze toggled to Charlotte and back. “I saw smoke rolling out the kitchen window and thought the worst.”
“We’re not in the habit of starting oven fires around here,” Charlotte said.
Emerson rolled her eyes. “It was just a little burnt bread, Charlotte. But thank you for your help, Gunner. Nice to have a take-charge man around the house. Well, listen, it was nice meeting you.” Her gaze swung back to her sister. “I’m gonna go eat my lunch in peace now.” Then she spun from the room.
The message was clear: she was done with her sister. Just as well since a trail ride was next on the agenda. If his heart ever settled down. The scare had left him shaken. Had resurrected memories from that awful autumn night. Memories best left dead and buried. But now he and Charlotte were alone again, and he owed her an apology. He didn’t normally take that tone with any woman—much less his boss.
Charlotte was scraping the charred mess into the garbage.
The smoke had cleared enough that he turned the fan to Low. “Listen, I’m sorry for yelling at you like that.” He wanted to add more, but what could he say without dredging up a pasthe had no interest in talking about? Especially with his boss. “I was out of order.”
“You were just concerned.”
