“It doesn’t take five cowboys to check in one guest,” I said pointedly. Seb, Liam, and Mateo took the hint,greeting Lennon quickly before they headed out. Holly apparently decided the term cowboy didn’t apply to her, and she leaned a shoulder against the wall.
Lennon stared at her. “Is that a chicken?”
“No,” Holly deadpanned.
I gave her a narrow-eyed look over my shoulder before turning back to Lennon. “I’m Jeremiah Bell. This is Holly Delaney. Welcome to Mercy River Ranch. Check-in is at two,” I informed her.
Her face fell. “I could have sworn it was eight.”
“The lodge opens at eight. Check-in is at two. It was in your confirmation email.”
She pushed her hand into her enormous bag and rummaged around. The bag was a simple design with no logos or fancy hardware, but I knew leather and that bag right there likely cost more than a ranch hand made in a week. The sunglasses she tossed on the counterdidhave a big ass logo glinting on the side, and even I recognized the name Prada. It made me wonder if those big rocks studding her ears were real diamonds.
Mercy River was mostly funded by donations and the cattle operation. Guests rarely paid their own way, although insurance usually kicked in about fifty percent. Lennon hadn’t provided insurance information on her forms, but it was common enough for insurance to reimburse the person directly that I hadn’t thought much of it.
Lennon had money. Another reason not to trust her.It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.I had a healthy suspicion of any mortal mouthpiece that presumed to speak for the divine, but that lesson at least had held true.
With a triumphant huff, she whipped out her phone, presumably to verify the email. Her brow didn’t exactly furrow, but the squint of her eyes made it seem like it had. I tapped the sign next to the computer to get her attention. She blinked at it.
“Wi-Fi password will be provided at check in?” she read out loud, making it sound like a question instead of a certainty.
“That’s right,” Holly said firmly. “At two p.m.”
Lennon studied her for a moment, immediately determined I was the weaker link, which was accurate because anyone standing next to Holly was the weaker link, and turned her big doe eyes on me pleadingly.
I caved before she even asked. “Your cabin is ready. No harm in getting you settled now.”
“Thank you,” she said over Holly’s soft snort. Holly knew as well as I did that getting Lennon settled at the ranch was an hour-long process, and doing it now instead of at two meant other things werenotgetting done.
Breakfast being one of them.
I took her I.D., matched it against what we had in our system, and added in the license plate from hervehicle. Swiping the cabin keys from the locked wall cabinet, I glanced over at her. “You want the Wi-Fi password now?”
She rolled her lips together, then shoved her phone back in her bag with a firm shake of her head. “No. No, I do not.”
Not the reaction I was expecting. The way Holly’s eyebrows went up, I knew she was thinking the same thing. “Where did you park?” I asked.
“Just out front.”
I nodded. “I’ll meet you there.”
She headed out the front door, and I grabbed our welcome packet: a map of the grounds and other handy information, such as meal times, activities, rules, places to go in town, and the Wi-Fi password.
Holly put a hand on my forearm, waylaying me. “Something is off with her.”
I nodded. We were on the same page there.
Outside, Lennon leaned against a black mid-size SUV. Brian, one of our ranch hands, tipped his hat to her as he passed on his way to the dining hall and then did a double take. His expression turned quizzical, but at her blank stare, he shook his head and kept moving.
“Morning, Jay,” he greeted, reaching for the door behind me.
“Morning, Brian,” I returned, but my attention was focused on the woman standing still as stone.
Everything about her was all wrong, and if I were abetting man, I’d put good odds that she had never seen a day of military life. First responders cared about duty and service. I’d never known a person with money to show a lick of interest in either. But maybe I was letting her pretty face cloud my judgment. Maybe she did belong here at Mercy River Ranch. Because her eyes…
Her eyes had that hunted look.
3
