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Sure enough, when Mason entered the barn, he found both horses had been taken care of. Not only had she brushed them down, but she’d also given them the food and water they needed. Based on what he could see, all of the horses had been taken care of.
That didn’t mean there weren’t other things that Mr. Abrams had on his list to complete for the day. The list had been drawn up before Mason had even arrived. The old man wasn’t the type to allow time to be wasted.
Fortunately, most of what was on said list was simple enough. Vern was a produce farmer. He had a couple animals—mostly horses—but he also had a chicken coop with twelve birds, a cow, and two goats.
Mason simply needed to attend to the animals and then move the water source for the potato field. Even as he completed these tasks, he couldn’t help but go back to how Harley had surprised him. Mr. Abrams had insisted she didn’t know much. She would have put the horses in their stalls and then used her phone to check her social media accounts. Mason didn’t have the heart to tell him that Harley had already been caught with her phone. When he’d come back, he’d noticed it wasn’t anywhere in sight. He hoped she’d been smart enough to put it away.
Still, he wondered what had prompted her to take care of the horses if she wasn’t familiar with them. How did she know what to do? There was a small part of him that was severely impressed by the fact that she’d taken the initiative. There was a very real possibility that he had underestimated her.
When he finally finished with his work, the sun had set over the crest of the mountains in the distance. He couldn’t go home until he ensured that Mr. Abrams was settled. The man would likely need help getting his casts wrapped up for a shower. Thankfully, he had one of those nice showers with the seat inside and one of those fancy shower heads that you could hold in your hand. Not even Mason could sleep without a hot shower after working outside.
He headed inside the front door without knocking, closing the door quietly and taking stock of the front room. Neither Mr. Abrams nor Harley was present. He took off his hat and held it against his leg, unsure if he should call out for them or just head into a home that didn’t belong to him.
The house was larger than his own. He wasn’t even sure where the kitchen was located. Most likely it was toward the back of the house because right now, all he saw was a large entertaining space and a hallway that led to the office and a bedroom.
A deer bust was prominently displayed at the end of the hallway rather than in the front sitting area. He couldn’t figure out why that would be, seeing as Mr. Abrams hadn’t been married, and usually, a man would only care if his spouse did. He got a good look at the entertaining space. It wasn’t anything special. The man had decent taste if he picked out everything himself, but Mason wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d hired a decorator to do most of the work.
Loud clattering sounds echoed through the house, coming from an arched doorway on the far side of the sitting room. Through the arched opening, Mason could see what looked like a large pine display with ceramic plates and cups.
He glanced toward the hallway, then opted to move toward the arch. Following another clatter came a muffled curse. He stopped, a smile tugging at his lips. The closer he got to the kitchen, the more he could smell what she had prepared for supper. It was familiar, but he couldn’t place what it was.
Mason turned the corner and got his first good look at Harley playing homemaker. She was still in those ridiculous overalls, but somehow she’d found an apron to go with them. She wore two oven mitts and had jumped back from an open oven. There was smoke—no, wait—heavy steam emanating from the appliance. She fanned it away and muttered something else as she reached for the pan.
Okay, maybe there was a little bit of smoke.
Mason hurried forward, catching her attention just in time for her to hold up a hand. “Stop right there. I’ve got this.”
His brows lifted and he backed up a step, watching with amusement as she pulled out a casserole dish.
Harley placed the pan on the stove and shut the oven door with a flourish. “See? Don’t you believe a word if anyone ever says I don’t know how to cook.”
Mason lifted his nose to get a whiff of the food, then peered at the pan. “Is that… macaroni and cheese?”
“And sausage,” she said triumphantly.
“You made macaroni and cheese,” he said with disbelief.
“What? It’s food, isn’t it?”
He bit back a grin. For someone with her background, he would have thought she’d want something classier. This was food for peasants.
“What?” she demanded again. “You said I needed to make supper. This was the only thing that would feed three people. My uncle needs to go to the grocery store. I mean, he doesn’t even have stuff for chocolate chip cookies.”
“Three?” Mason glanced at the food and his stomach growled.
“Yeah, aren’t you staying for dinner? I have corn and some watermelon, too. I was just about to make some instant lemonade, but I think we might stick with water tonight.”
Mason hesitated. He’d told her he would be staying until her uncle was in bed, but he’d never mentioned whether or not he would be eating with her. Her invitation had been unexpected.
“Here, will you set the table?” Harley shoved a stack of plates into his hands. “Vern had to go to the bathroom and insisted he didn’t want my help. He’s been in there a long time. You might want to check on him because heaven knows I’m not going anywhere near…” Her face flushed and she spun around so she didn’t have to meet his gaze.
“Yeah, I’ll check on him.” Mason moved to the kitchen table and put out the place settings. He peeked at Harley a few times, but she kept her back to him. First, the horses. Now, the dinner. He was beginning to wonder what other surprises she might throw his way. Harley wasn’t anything like he’d expected her to be.
Was she selfish and bull-headed? Yes. He’d seen that stubbornness first-hand. She was also the kind of person who didn’t shy away from sarcastic comebacks—something that was a big pet peeve of his.
But at the same time, she appeared to be just as stubborn in the opposite direction. Was it possible that she just needed a reason to prove herself?
Mason refused to put her in a box like that. Harley wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before, and he wanted to see more. He waited until she glanced in his direction, then he thumbed over his shoulder toward the door. “I’m going to get your uncle. I’ll be right back.”
