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Slamming her hands on the table, she shot to her feet and stormed from the kitchen. Her cold, wet pants whipped around her ankles with every step she took. Hands and face felt colder than ever as she hurried up the stairs toward the room she’d resigned herself to call her own for the next three to four months.
Tearing the door open, she stepped inside and nearly slammed it shut when she stopped herself. Vern had called her a child. He’d no doubt expect her to slam the door just so she could make him miserable. Well, he wasn’t going to be right on that one.
Slowly, she shut the door all the way until she heard the soft click.
Turning, she leaned against the door in the dark, closing her eyes against the hot emotion that already leaked out onto her cheeks. She could have left hours ago. She’d already located where he kept her keys—mostly because she heard her phone buzzing when he’d gone out to get started on his work.
Unfortunately, he, along with her parents, were right. She needed the money if she wanted to make something of herself. She wouldn’t be able to get far without it. Her stomach growled again, reminding her that she didn’t have so much as a snack in her bedroom.
Vern couldn’t guard the kitchen forever. All she had to do was sneak down there and raid the fridge or the pantry. Vern didn’t have kids. He didn’t have any experience thwarting someone like her.
She slid down the door and sat on the floor, her forearms propped on her knees. If she followed through with that plan, she’d be proving him right again, and she hated that more than anything.
Harley’s head thumped against the door and she opened her eyes, though she couldn’t see much besides the outlines of her bed, dresser, and chaise lounge chair across the room. There was a window seat with cushions and pillows—a place she would have loved to curl up and read when she was a child. Once upon a time, she used to love that sort of thing. It had been years since she’d picked up a book to read for the fun of it. Now, she just associated reading with coercion and authority.
She tore off her socks, then got to her feet and changed into something warmer. Harley picked up Mason’s jacket from the edge of the bed and fingered the fabric. Her eyes darted toward the window. Without turning on the lights, she moved through the room and sat on the cushion to stare out at the ranch below. Her window faced north, toward Mason’s property, but from this distance she couldn’t make out much.
If Uncle Vern liked Mason enough to ask him to step up and keep an eye on her, then maybe she should figure out a way to use that to her advantage. Heaven knew she wasn’t going to survive the summer with her uncle breathing down her neck. Mason might be a hard shell to crack, but she had a better chance at breaking down his defenses than her uncle’s.
If she could get him to be on her side, then she might have a chance to make it out on top. She glanced down once more at the jacket and then brought it to her nose. It smelled like cut straw and rain. There was a faint scent of soap, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly. Minty maybe? Or was it more earthy than that?
A smile touched her lips. She could win him over if only to get him on her side. Then together, they could work on her uncle. First, she’d have to befriend him. He wasn’t the kind of guy she encountered in the city, though, so she’d need to regroup and figure out what to say to convince him to give her a second chance.
Harley smelled the jacket again, breathing deeply. One step at a time. She might have to work harder in the beginning, but by the end of the summer, he’d be putty in her hand.
The door to the house shut and she straightened to look down below. Uncle Vern trudged toward the barn, a flashlight in hand. She watched until he disappeared inside and then as the light in the building turned on.
A golden glow flooded from the building. She watched for about ten minutes until she realized there was only one thing he could be doing.
Vern was mucking out the stalls. Had he actually thought she would go out there and get them done just to eat dinner? The guy was bonkers. There was no way he would break her. No one could.
Not her folks.
Not her uncle.
And definitely not some cowboy.
7
Mason
The storm had passed throughout the night, but it left behind a distinctly cooler temperature. Unfortunately, Mason didn’t have another jacket. The one he’d neglected to get back from Harley had been fairly new and his favorite. The old one he’d tossed due to being worn out.
By lunch time it would warm up, but until then, Mason was stuck wearing long sleeves. He grabbed his hat from the rack by the back door and headed out to do his chores. Wade and Elijah were the only ones who bothered getting up this early, but that was because they wanted to get as much work as they could completed before it got hot. The others, including himself, didn’t do nearly as much work.
Mason was the only one who got up early just so he could spend some time on his own without his siblings pestering him. The house was too small for twelve people. Granted, Annabel and Elijah had moved out, but it was still too crowded.
His thoughts shifted to Mr. Abrams’ home. That place was huge, and up until recently, it had only housed one person. What did a person do with all that extra space?
He probably had a room dedicated just to books. Based on the way he was talking about their similar interests, that’s the only thing that made sense.
If Mason had that much space, he would do the same.
Right now, he didn’t have time to think about what he would do with all that space. He had hooves to trim and cattle to brush down. Usually, he had to feed some of the animals as well. Whenever he went out first, the horses got restless. They wanted to eat the second they saw one of their humans.
His boots crushed down the tuffs of grass that sprouted along the well-worn path to the barn. He’d walked this path every single day of his life. All of them had. Sometimes he wondered if his folks had done the same before they abandoned their family. What had made his father and mother decide to live on a ranch in the first place?
He didn’t care what had made them leave. Anyone who was willing to do that didn’t deserve his thoughts. But for a couple to choose a life in the country intrigued him. He thought the same thing about Harley and her uncle.
