Page 69
As he works, I calmly watch Cole. He grunts, his entire body straining, his biceps rippling as he pulls the slack wire tight. The veins in his arms and hands pop as he wraps the first wire in a familiar pattern. “Wire cutter.”
Within minutes, we lapse into a routine of silence. Cole grunts and knots wire. At his nod, I hand him the cutters. Soon, the fence comes together. It’s near the end, on knot ten, that Cole pulls back and massages his left hand like it’s hurting him.
“Let me do it.” I scoot forward, holding out my hand for the wire. Wordlessly, Cole steps back, folding arms across his broad chest.
I’m slow, the wire is taut and hard, but I’m determined to impress this cowboy. With careful movements, my fingers deftly work the knot. Under, over, under, over, tail through the hole, under, lazy loop, two tight wraps, then Cole snaps its end.
His gaze falls to mine. “How’d you know how to do that?”
I smile with pride. “Girls can do hard things, cowboy.”
“No insult, darlin’, it just ain’t every day I see a woman able to tie a near perfect termination knot.”
His deep rumble, his compliment slides across my skin like silk. “Like I said, I’m a Jill of many trades.” His raised eyebrow tells me he’s listening, he’s curious, so I go on.
“I like to know a little bit about everything. We didn’t have much money when I was a kid, but my mom got me a set of used Encyclopaedia Britannica from a thrift store. My favorite was B for ‘ballet.’ And then K. Knots. Kakorrhaphiophobia.”
He nudges up his hat. “What’s that?”
“Fear of failure.” I shrug a shoulder, reaching for one of the slack wires. “I never went to college or anything, but I always thought those encyclopedias made me hungry to learn.”
His blue eyes flash with interest. “You can’t put a price on that.”
“No. You can’t.” I swallow hard at the memory.
As if sensing a lapse in conversation, the sky rumbles.
Exhaling, Cole turns his face to the dark clouds. “Most beautiful sound in the world.”
“Why’s that?”
“Rain. The more we get the better. No water means no whiskey.” He lifts his chin to the mountain looming in the distance. “We source our water for the distillery from the falls.”
My mind recalls the guidebook I bought on my first day in Tempest. “Sweetheart Falls? I’ve been wanting to go for a hike up there—”
“Don’t.” Cole’s entire demeanor turns to lead. “Don’t go to the falls.”
I stare at him, confused. “Why not?”
A muscle tics in his square jaw. “Some people were murdered up there.”
“Really?” The way his face looks…
He reaches a hand behind his neck to squeeze it. “They happened every few years back then.”
“A serial killer?” At Cole’s answering grimace, I ask, “Did they catch him?” This town keeps getting more and more intriguing.
“No.” Worry bleeds into his harsh tone. Twisting toward me, his gaze pins to mine. Stern. Deadly serious. “I want you to stay away from there, Delilah.” As if to bring his point home, he steps forward and cups my cheek. “Promise me.”
My body combusts.
Stunned by his touch, I dazedly nod my agreement. “Okay,” I breathe. “I will.”
His gaze dips to my mouth, and for one second, I’m certain he’ll kiss me. My body craves it. This man, all over me. Hard and rough and like no one I’ve ever had before. Cole’s different. I can already feel it in his calloused touch.
But no such luck. His hand lowers from my face as he glances back at the fence line. “Let’s keep going.”
17 Cole
