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There was a chorus of “awws,” and someone reached over to ruffle my hair. “Not sure he’d know what to do with all them teats,” Jed joked.
Boone’s jaw tightened even more. “He’s not going out with Tommy Prescott,” he said in a low voice. “And that’s final.”
Harrison’s face was pure innocent confusion. “But, boss—”
Boone held up a hand. “Try me, Malone. See how that works out for you. If I’m not mistaken, Norma’s chicken house needs cleaning out in the morning. Do we have a volunteer?”
Even I knew that cleaning the chicken house was one of the worst jobs on the ranch. But I was curious to test Harrison’s theory even more, so I opened my idiot mouth. “I’ll do it.”
Boone’s entire face softened as he met my eyes, and my heart squeezed tight enough to steal my breath. “No. You’re going to learn how to collect colostrum and help with the bottle-feeding. If we can collect our own, we can stop sourcing it from Tommy, and I want you to get the refractometer data put into some kind of spreadsheet or software system like you did with the calves.”
Jed’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’ve been trying to get you to do this for months.”
“Yeah, well, now I’m listening.” He turned to Tyler. “And I want you to stick with the calving. Jed said you volunteered to sleep out there tonight. You sure about that?”
Ty sat up straighter. “Yes, sir. Definitely. I think 9067 is getting close. She might need help overnight.”
Boone nodded. “Good. Ask Norma to hook you up with a cooler full of food to take out there with you. There’s already coffee stuff in the barn. You know how to text me if you run into trouble. Don’t hesitate or think you’re bothering me. You understand?”
“Of course, sir. I promise.”
Norma walked past Tyler and patted his shoulder. “I already have the food packed and ready. The cooler bag’s in the mudroom fridge. Grab it on your way out.”
Tyler blushed at her attention as he thanked her.
I glanced at Boone from under my lashes. He was such a good guy. My heart skittered in my chest like an overexcited puppy.
I pushed back my chair as soon as the hands began to get up from the table and clear their dishes to the sink. After scraping my plate and stacking it with the others, I hesitated, wondering if I should return to the bunkhouse or wait. Thankfully, Boone solved the problem for me.
“McQueen,” Boone’s calm voice said above the commotion of the table clearing. “You mind waiting for me in my bedroom? I need to talk to Jed about something.”
Once again, all the noise stopped, and my face ignited. But this time, I didn’t care a single bit.
Boone Hammond wanted me in his bedroom.
And he wasn’t afraid of letting everyone know it.
I bolted out of the kitchen and down the hallway to his room like the hounds of hell were after me.
17
BOONE
I stood outside my bedroom door, running my hand through my hair, feeling more unsettled than I ever did. I was a person who generally knew the right thing to do and did it, even if it was unpleasant. With Richard though, things weren’t that simple. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reconcile facts and feelings.
I knew I was asking for trouble with him, and I didn’t care. It didn’t matter that I’d been here before, trying to make things work with a man who was meant for a far different life from mine. I’d have thought I would have learned my lesson the first time, with Oscar, but apparently, I hadn’t.
I wasn’t in love with Richard, not yet, but I could feel the possibility of it stirring inside me. I knew the more time I spent with him, the harder I’d fall, and the more impossible it would be when he left. Because he would leave, in just a few short weeks.
Oh, I could ask him to stay, of course, and there was a pretty good chance he’d give it a try. Then I’d spend the next months or years slowly watching him dull and lose his vibrancy, just as I had with Oscar decades before. And, just like with Oscar, there’d come a point where keeping hold of him would be more painful than letting him go.
I knew this.
I also knew it would be easier to part ways when the time came if we kept our distance until then, but I couldn’t seem to make myself stay away. I’d spent all afternoon holed up in my office, pointedly not thinking about Richard, but found my eyes straying again and again toward the window to watch him mow the grass and my mouth pulling into a grin whenever his spirit fingers flew through the air.
I’d told myself I’d treat him just like any other hand at dinner, but that resolve had lasted all of ten seconds. Even the idea of keeping distance had made me desperate to draw him closer, so the moment I’d seen him sitting at the table, his hair damp and his pristine white shirt clinging to all those slender muscles, my resolve had broken. My feet had carried me toward him like I was on autopilot, and I’d bent to kiss his head.
