“First time on a horse, huh?” I ask after a while, breaking the silence.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Little bit.”
She huffs, her breath fogging in the cold air. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“More than I should,” I admit, my tone teasing.
She turns her head slightly, her eyes catching mine. “Do you always talk like this to strangers?”
“Only the ones who crash into my snowbanks.”
Her lips twitch, and for a moment, I think she might smile. But she looks away, her shoulders tightening again.
By the time we reach my cabin, the tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife. I help her down, my hands lingering on her waist longer than necessary before stepping back.
“Wait here,” I say, tying the horse to the post. “I’ll grab the truck and take you the rest of the way.” She doesn’t argue, and when I return with the truck, she climbs in silently. “Where we headed, Sugar?”
Bella and Archer Steele’s place–do you know it?”
“I do–Archer is my brother.” I say simply. The drive the rest of the way up the mountain is short, and when we pull up to my brother’s place, I watch as she transforms. Gone is the sharp-tongued woman who bristled at every comment I made. In her place is someone calm, focused, and capable.
I follow her inside, not entirely sure why. Something about her pulls at me, like an itch I can’t quite scratch.
Bella’s labor is in full swing, and Indie moves with a confidence that surprises me, within moments her hands steady and her voice soothing as she guides Bella through each contraction.
Archer paces nervously nearby, and I clap him on the shoulder, offering him a shot of whiskey from the cabinet to calm his nerves.
“Hell of a woman you brought here,” he says, nodding toward Indie. “Betty’s niece–looks like a firecracker.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, watching as she kneels beside Bella, her expression soft but determined.
When the baby’s cries finally fill the room, a strange warmth settles in my chest. Indie hands the tiny bundle to Bella, her smile lighting up the room.
“Congratulations,” she says softly, her voice thick with emotion.
I down my whiskey in one go, the burn doing little to chase away the feeling creeping up my spine.
Already, something about this woman is going to ruin me.
Chapter Three
Indie
The Copper Country Café smells like heaven—fresh-brewed coffee, sizzling bacon, and Aunt Betty’s famous cinnamon rolls cooling on the counter. It’s small, a little rough around the edges, and bursting with charm, just like everything in Copper Mountain. Aunt Betty insists I call this place my second home, but I haven’t had the courage to settle into the idea.
She waves me in from behind the counter, her sharp blue eyes sparkling like she’s already planning something. Knowing Aunt Betty, she probably is.
“You look like a woman in desperate need of coffee,” she calls, pouring a steaming cup before I can ask.
“You’re a mind reader,” I say, taking a seat at the counter.
“I’m also an expert at fixing things,” she replies, sliding the mug toward me. “Cars, babies, broken hearts, grumpy mountain men...”
I arch a brow, sipping cautiously. “Grumpy mountain men?”
“King Steele,” she clarifies, her tone mischievous. “You met him yesterday, didn’t you?”
