Elle James - High Country Hideout

Strong arms came up around her waist, crushing her even closer to him.

“Steady there,” Angus said, his chest vibrating with the deep resonance of his voice.

For a moment she forgot where she was as she inhaled the clean, woodsy scent of him, her fingers curling against his skin. He wore blue jeans and sneakers, and nothing else. The smooth expanse of skin drew her like a bee to honey, her insides igniting.

His lips curled upward on the corners as if he knew the effect he was having on her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Mmm, yes, yes.” When she realized her hands still rested against his bare skin, heat rose up her neck and filled her cheeks.

Reggie backed away. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine.” She pushed a drying strand of hair away from her face and tore her gaze from his dark, enigmatic one. “Supper’s ready and Jo likes everyone to be on time.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Well, then.” She smoothed that same strand again. “Well, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Of course.” Angus stepped out of her way and Reggie beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

What was wrong with her? She’d touched the man. Hell, she’d laid her hands all over his chest. And, damn it, she’d liked the feel of his skin against her fingertips. She had to pull herself together.

As she neared the kitchen she slowed, composed herself and stepped in.

Tad ran to her, his arms open.

She scooped him up and hugged him close. “When did you and CW get back from town?”

“While you were in the shower.” He hugged her and wiggled out of her arms. “Did you meet the cowboy? He said his name is Angus. Isn’t that a kind of cow? I like him. He’s a real cowboy, and he’s going to teach me to ride.”

“Whoa, slow down there.” Reggie laughed. “I was only in the shower a few minutes and you learned all that?”

He nodded and ran for the basket of bread rolls on the counter. “Jo made fresh rolls for dinner.”

“I see that. Did you wash your hands?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He held up his small hands. “See?” Then he darted around her and ran for the door to the kitchen. “Angus, you can sit by me. Where’s Ranger?”

“He’s resting in my room. I didn’t think he’d be welcome at the dinner table.” Angus winked as he stood in the doorway, wearing a clean, blue chambray shirt, buttoning the buttons as he stood there. When he finished, he took Tad’s hand and let him lead him to the table.

“Sit there,” Tad said, pointing to a chair.

“Tad...ask nicely,” Reggie admonished.

“Please, sit there.” He tapped the back of a chair and claimed the one beside it.

CW and Jo always sat at the other side of the table, which forced Reggie to sit at the end next to Angus. He pulled out the chair and waited for her to take her seat before sitting.

The table overflowed with food. After each platter had been handed around, Reggie lifted a forkful of ham and paused. “So, Angus, I’m not convinced we really need a ranch hand, but CW assures me we do. I can offer room and board, but I can’t afford to pay a lot.”

“I don’t require a lot,” he said, poking a bite of roll into his mouth.

“Then why would you want to work here?”

“I enjoy working with animals and being outdoors.”

She studied him for a long moment. “You can stay.” Reggie held up a finger. “On a trial basis.”

“Fair enough.” He turned to Jo. “Mrs. Jo, the rolls are wonderful.”

Jo preened. “You look like you could do with some good old-fashioned home cooking.”

The man was muscular, but his face was somewhat hollow, as though he’d been through rough times. Reggie raised her glass and drank a long pull of water, studying Angus in her peripheral vision.

Jo continued, “Since you’re out here alone, I take it you’re not married.”

Water lodged in Reggie’s throat and backed up into her nostrils. She stopped herself short of spewing it across the table as heat burned its way into her cheeks. Trust Jo to get down to the personal questions first thing.

* * *

ANGUS FOUGHT THE SMILE that threatened to erupt at Reggie’s distress. The ranch owner turned an alarming shade of red and coughed several times.

He leaned back and thumped her on the back. “Are you okay? Don’t need a hug, now, do you?”

“No...no...” she gasped. “Wrong pipe.” Then she glared across the table at Jo. “Leave Angus alone, Jo. He doesn’t have to answer personal questions to work here.”

Jo laughed irreverently. “He does if he wants another one of those rolls.” She winked at him. “So, are you married?”

Angus liked the woman’s forthrightness and laughing smile. “No, I’m not.” And he probably never would be.

“That’s interesting.” Jo tilted her head. “A good-looking young man like you should already be settled with half a dozen children.”

His jaw tightened. “The opportunity never came up.”

“CW tells me you were in the army.”

Angus’s entire body tensed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Were you deployed overseas?” Jo continued her interrogation.

“Four times.”

“Goodness. That would make it difficult to form a lasting relationship. Takes a special woman to marry a soldier and make it work.” She glanced across at Reggie. “A strong woman who can keep the fires burning on the home front. Reggie’s one of the most independent women I know. She can ride the range, round up cattle, muck stalls and still have time to read to Tad.”

“Leave me out of this conversation,” Reggie muttered and turned to Angus. “And watch her. She’s an uncontrollable matchmaker.”

“I am, and danged proud of it.” Jo set her fork on the table. “Angus, you want another one of those rolls?” She passed him the basket.

Angus selected one and studied Jo Reinhardt. The woman obviously loved Reggie and wanted the best for her. She probably thought the young widow needed a new husband.

Too bad she was barking up the wrong tree.

His gaze shifted to Reggie. Her soft sandy-blond hair was drying, the curls springing up around her shoulders.

A man would be lucky to have her as his wife. She wasn’t clingy or froufrou. Though she could ride and work animals like any other man, that was where the resemblance stopped. The way her sweater hugged her curves and her jeans caressed her hips, she was one hundred percent female.

“Got a lot to do tomorrow.” CW’s words pulled Angus back to the table.

The older man slathered his roll with butter. “Supposed to get down below freezing tonight. If the ground gets cold enough, that snow headed this way later this week will stick.” He glanced at Angus.

Reggie nodded. “We need to get the rest of the cattle down from the upper pastures tomorrow.”

Glad the conversation had shifted from him to the ranch, Angus took a bite of the smoked ham, enjoying the flavors.

“You up for riding so soon?” CW’s gaze met Angus’s, making him wonder if Hank had told him the extent of his injuries.

Angus swallowed. “Yes, sir.” He’d be damned if he showed a single ounce of weakness in front of Reggie. “It’s been a while since I saddled up, but I’m sure I can manage.”

CW continued to stare at Angus for a moment longer and then his gaze dropped to the buttered roll in his hand. “Riding a horse is a lot like riding a bicycle. Once you learn, it’s easy to remember.”

Angus hoped like hell CW was right. One thing he’d discovered in rehab was that, since his injury, he’d had to relearn everything to do with walking, running and riding a bicycle. Horseback riding would be an entirely different experience. He considered rising early to practice mounting without Reggie or CW standing around to witness his shame if it proved too difficult.