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No way. She wasn’t going to get up right now.
Clawing at the covers, she yanked them over her head and curled up into a tighter ball.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The bedroom door rattled.
“Not even you can stay asleep with this racket,” Vern hollered through the closed door. “I promised your parents that I’d put you to work, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Harley tossed in her bed and scowled with eyes shut tight. If she pretended she didn’t hear him, maybe he’d go away. It was her first full day here. He couldn’t make her do anything.
“If you don’t come out, I’ll just come in and get you.”
Her eyes popped open from beneath her covers. He wouldn’t dare.
“I know you don’t think I’d do it, but I’m telling you right now that your mother scares the dung right out of me and I’m not about to make any enemies.”
The doorknob didn’t rattle. But there wasn’t the sound of retreating footsteps either. Harley didn’t know Vern well enough to know what he was capable of, but she did know one thing.
Blaire Pembrooke had to be the scariest woman alive on the planet. Vern would be wise to tread carefully around her.
“Come on out. I have breakfast on the table. We’ve got early chores this morning.”
Harley tossed the covers aside with a loud moan. “Fine. I’m coming.” Still clad in her shorts and an oversized t-shirt, she pulled on her boots and stumbled toward the door. Whatever her uncle had planned couldn’t last long. This ranch wasn’t nearly big enough to warrant a full day of chores.
Her stomach growled in protest as she headed into the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen, reminding her of her missed supper. She had to give Vern that—he hadn’t woken her from her slumber when he’d returned home. She’d gotten more than enough sleep even with the lack of sun streaming through the windows.
Despite her uncle living on his own and not having any evidence of a feminine touch in his house whatsoever, the interior of his home was actually tastefully decorated. It was rustic with a few touches of modern décor. On top of that, it was clean.
She dragged her hand down the wooden railing, not surprised to find it dust-free. In fact, there wasn’t a speck of dust to be found from her room all the way to the kitchen.
The second she rounded the corner in the hallway, the smell of breakfast hit her like a brick wall. Either she’d been too tired to notice, or the house had been designed in such a way that it could trap the smells in certain parts.
Once again, her stomach growled at the smell of sausage and toast. With her senses locked on the smell of breakfast, Harley completely overlooked everything else about the house she’d neglected to investigate. She propelled herself to the kitchen and then stopped in her tracks upon finding her uncle sitting at the kitchen table like this was the most natural morning either one of them had experienced.
He held a book in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. Vern didn’t even look up at her from his place when he said, “Dish yourself up something hearty. We’ve got a lot of work to do today.”
Harley rubbed her eyes. “What do you mean, we? I’m not your slave.”
That caught his attention, and Vern lifted one bushy eyebrow as he peered over his book toward her. “No, you’re not,” he drawled. “You’re my guest. As such, I’ve decided to offer you room and board. You have a bed to sleep in, a roof over your head, and food to fill your stomach. In return, I expect you to help me keep this place running.”
“Don’t you have people to do that for you? I know you don’t have as much money as my folks, but Grandad left you the same thing he left my mom.”
Vern didn’t react to her statement. He didn’t even blink. The guy was like a gargoyle. He was a full fifteen years older than her mother, which said a lot about their sibling relationship. While Vern wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Blaire, he was still one of those men who was hard to read.
He closed his book and placed it along with his coffee mug on the table beside his plate. Then he crossed one leg over the other and rested his clasped hands on his knee. “May I remind you that the decision to come here was your own?”
“Is that what Mom said? No, it wasn’t. If I had my way, I would have gotten my inheritance, got on the next plane to Europe, and never looked back.”
“What I mean is that given the choice of losing that money you find so important or earning it back, you chose the latter.” Vern gestured around them. “That landed you here. Part of the agreement for my taking you in, is that you will help me run this place in whatever ways I deem necessary. Any misstep, and I will send you right back where you came from, and you will be forced to plead your case.”
Harley rolled her eyes.
“If I were you, I’d eat up. The food is getting cold.” He reached for his book once more and flipped it open to the page he’d been reading.
This proved one thing. Vern wasn’t about to go easy on her. He was going to make her work until her fingers were worn down to the bone. He probably thought it was his duty to make sure she turned into a good, hard-working member of society.
Well, if he thought he could break her like one of those wild horses out in the plains, then he was going to be sorely mistaken. Harley couldn’t be broken. Her parents had tried. Her teachers had given it their fair shot. The only one who could make Harley do something she didn’t want to was Harley.
