Page 36

I don’t get a chance to find out, though, because at that exact moment, the front door opens and Rowena’s voice calls out, “Hattie! I brought scones!”

Seconds later, she’s standing in the doorway, holding a covered tray, gawking at me.

“Whoa.”

“Yeah, I told him to put a shirt on,” Hattie says with an eye roll.

“Why?” Rowena says. “If you’ve got abs like that, you might as well flaunt them.” She pumps her eyebrows and grins. “Well done, Noble.”

“Rowena!” Hattie scolds.

“And . . . that’s me leaving.” I pull on my shirt and start toward the door, but Rowena is blocking it.

“Aww, dang it.” She fake-pouts.

“Boss lady’s rules.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder, and Rowena looks past me to where her sister is still standing.

“Well, I wouldn’t kick you out of the kitchen for indecent exposure.” She moves out of the way, and I toss a glance over my shoulder and give Hattie a quick smile.

And when she tries not to smile back, the feeling is better than the one I get when I stay on the bull for the full eight seconds. It’s the glimmer of hope I’ve been craving. Proof that somewhere behind her tough exterior, there’s a girl I used to know.

And the only thing that matters to me now is knowing her again.

Chapter Eight

Noble

Twenty minutes later, after a shower, I come downstairs in much more appropriate attire—jeans and a button-down shirt.

I walk through the dining hall and into the kitchen where I find a small group of people clustered around the island, Hattie at the center. Rowe is right next to her, and when she meets my eyes, she frowns.

“Not bad, but not as good as before,” she says, sing-song-y. “A little more skin makes a woman grin.”

“Rowena!” Hattie smacks her across the arm.

“Whoa, Noble, are you walking around here naked?” West asks.

“You kidding? I know the rule. ‘No bare butts outside the bathroom,’” I say.

For a kid like me, who’d had zero boundaries for the first fourteen years of my life, the Holbrook ranch took a little getting used to. But even I could admit it was nice to be around adults who cared enough about me to correct some of the stupid things I was doing.

Never mind that I flung those rules off the second I left town.

“Didn’t Pop make that rule for you, Boone?” West says, amused.

“Hunter,” Hattie, Boone, Quent, and I all say in unison.

Hattie meets my eyes, and I see her soften. No matter how she feels about me now, we’ve got history. And the look on her face tells me that counts for something.

“All right.” She claps her hands together. “It’s all hands on deck today, so I hope you’re ready.”

Hattie takes control of the group with practiced ease. It’s obvious she’s used to being in charge, and she’s good at it. It’s a very attractive trait. I’m grateful she’s got the floor because it gives me a chance to stare at her without raising suspicion.

I think she might be the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.

She divvies up jobs for her brothers and Rowena, along with two ranch hands named Theo and Gage—everything from pulling weeds to clearing brush to mowing to planting flowers and hanging lights. When she’s finished with that, she says, “We’ll have lunch back here at noon, and do a progress check then, that work?”

Everyone nods or thumbs-up their agreement.