Chapter Twelve

Ivy neatly stacked the unpaid bills and set them on the corner of the desk. She stood back, staring at them. So much to worry about. Combined, the bills added up to a figure too astronomical for her to cover with the small nest egg built off her video blogging.

She picked up a painted rock sitting among her father's scattered things. Years ago, she, Meadow and Forest had painted their names on it as a Father's Day gift. She added the rock as a paperweight to the stack of bills and walked out of the room.

The house was silent, a shell of what it had been in their happy childhood years. Everything that happened stripped the life from their home, leaving it empty.

She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

Ugh. And we're low on supplies too.

The refrigerator was almost empty with only a few condiments hanging out on the shelves.

Suppliesshe could cover with her own money.

The ranch may have money problems, but she could afford to stock them up on food, drinks and other necessities.

By the front door, she grabbed a set of keys to one of the ranch trucks and walked out. The screen door banged shut behind her, and she hurried down the porch steps, already feeling lighter than she had five minutes ago.

The nice weather improved her mood even more as she walked to the garage where all the vehicles were parked. As she turned her head, she looked off in the direction she always walked to get away from the stress of being at home.

Only this time, all she could think about was the poor ranch hand they found in the pond.

For days she'd been stuffing down the fact that someone had died on their property. It probably wasn't an accident either. Hunter told her to leave the worrying to him and Colton, but how could she stop thinking about somebody being killed on their land? Or her sister being attacked? It wasn't possible.

Her boots crunched on the gravel. When she reached for the door of the truck, a large hand landed in front of her, holding it shut.

Those familiar fingers raised awareness of the pleasure they were capable of. She followed the long lines to a strong wrist and then looked up into Hunter's steel-gray eyes.

"Where do you think you're going?" Not even a smile played around his lips.

"To town for supplies. We're out of everything."

He studied her for a heartbeat. "I'll go with you."

She drew her brows together. "Don't you have ranch chores to do?"

"I can't have you messing up, now can I?"

"Ugh! I forgot what a jerk you can be." She started to step back.

Taking her by the shoulder, he turned her spine to the door and hemmed her in with his strong body.

"That's not what you were calling me last night after I gave you an orgasm." When his warm, minty breath washed over her lips, a shiver of desire spiked through her.

Did everything about her life have to be so conflicting?

She traced her tongue over her dry bottom lip. "Give me two orgasms and we'll see what I have to say."

The corner of his lips twitched. In all the time the man had been here, she might have seen him smile once, maybe twice. Seeing it now was like watching a comet arc across the sky. It left her feeling just as breathless and honored to witness such a rare occurrence.

Her chest heaved with a need for more air. At that moment, Hunter pushed away from the truck, giving her escape.

She plucked the cowboy hat off his head and plopped it on her own.

"Dammit, woman."

She tossed her head on a laugh and jumped behind the wheel. "Get in if you're coming with me, cowboy."

He rounded the vehicle, muttering under his breath. Once he was seated next to her, she sliced a grin his way.

"What's that for?" His question threw her.

"What?"

"That smile."

She shrugged. "I'm feeling good about getting away from the ranch."

As she took off down the driveway, Hunter reached for the handle above the door. "You should slow down."

She rippled with indignation. "Why would I do that?"

"The gravel's kicking off the tires. It's going to chip the paint."

She issued an exasperated sigh. "It's a ranch truck, not a pristine show truck. We leave the pretty stuff to the horses, not the horsepower."

"Aren't you full of witty conversation today?"

She threw him a look. "One of us has to be. And you're far too serious for me."

"I can joke around."

"Oh really? When do you do that? When you're in the bunkhouse? Because the guys say you are outside in the middle of the night and then go straight to bed."

He stiffened.

"What are you doing outside in the middle of the night, Hunter? If those demons are haunting you—"

He shook his head. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

He cut a hand through the air in a dismissive wave.

"You've shared my bed twice. Doesn't that make us friends?"

"It makes us a hell of a lot more than friends," he growled.

Okay, that was…hot. Hunter's reaction to her words left her feeling warm inside in ways she'd never felt before.

"Okay, so if we're friends, why don't you talk to me? Tell me what's going on at night?"

He stared at her for a long heartbeat. She stared back before redirecting her attention to the road.

"I'm watching for intruders."

She stopped the truck, skidding on that gravel she was taking a little too fast. "You never told me that before."

"It wasn't relevant."

"Not relevant to me? It sure as hell is, Hunter. My father's in the hospital, and Meadow's so busy with her horses that I'm the only person running this ranch."

He scrubbed a hand over his face. "You're right. You do deserve to know."

"Tell me."

"Colton asked me to come here and lend a hand."

"With the chores."

"That, and to provide protection."

Her heart flipped over. All those bills. Stacks and stacks. It made her wonder what her father had been doing with all the revenue that came into the ranch accounts. She chewed her lip. Should she share her worry with Hunter?

She thought better of it. Until she got to the bottom of it all, she would keep it to herself.

Suddenly, her jaw dropped as what this danger meant struck. She turned her head to look at him. Everything was beginning to add up. All the times Hunter took charge, he wasn't just being controlling.

"Say what's on your mind. I can see something's gnawing at you."

She pushed up the brim of his hat that was a little too big for her head. "That night you dragged me out of Badlands."

His throat worked on a swallow. "What about it?"

"You were protecting me. But it wasn't for me or Forest either, was it? Colton told you to watch over me."

He issued a long sigh. "Neither of us think you or Meadow should be left alone."

"That's why you're in this truck right now!"

"Maybe I just want to stare at your legs in that short skirt."

Her jaw snapped shut. A thrill of pleasure worked through her. "Well, make sure you get a nice long look. It might be your last."

His lips quirked at both corners. "I intend to. And I doubt it."

She shot him a sidelong look. "You can put your hand on them too."

Now his brow cocked upward. "Oh yeah? Like this?" He reached over the console and settled his long fingers across her bare thigh. A knot of want tightened in her pussy, as if he'd done much more than touch her leg.

She wasn't even sure if she liked the hardened military man yet.

But she was crazy about him. Her lover. Her only link to anything resembling normalcy on the Gracey Ranch. Without him, who would she have to argue with?

To kiss.

Their gazes locked for several heartbeats.

"We'll never get to town if you don't stop distracting me."

"This would be distracting you." He slipped his hand up her inner thigh, edging toward the hem of her skirt.

When she wiggled in her seat, he issued a laugh, a sound she couldn't recall ever hearing before.

The deep sound worked through her like thunder rolled across the mountain, echoing on and on all the way to town.

* * * * *

Ivy pushed the shopping cart ahead of Hunter. The methodical way she filled the cart with food surprised him. He expected her to toss in anything that caught her eye, but soon he realized she was planning out meals for the week.

The guys in the bunkhouse took turns cooking. Typically, it consisted of a chunk of meat prepared on the grill and whatever side dish could be whipped up in a pot on the stove. Not that he minded. After military rations, and then the hospital fare, his love for food had diminished.

When Ivy placed thick cuts of steak in the basket, his stomach growled. "I hope one [MOU3]of those is for me."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course it's for you, Colton and Meadow. I don't eat beef. I had a pet calf named Petunia. Enough said. Annnnd you can stop grinning."

After the shopping trip was complete and they stashed everything in the back of the truck, Ivy climbed behind the wheel again. Hunter spotted a man at the cart corral staring at her.

From where Hunter stood, the man couldn't see him. He watched the guy for a long minute, but he didn't seem to be moving to get in his vehicle.

Hunter rounded the rear of the truck, placing himself in broad view. "Do you have a problem?"

The man's eyes widened. He glanced at Ivy, who was oblivious, and then shook his head. When he spun around to stride across the parking lot, Hunter glared at him the entire way.

Ivy rolled down her window and stuck her head out. "Hunter?"

"Coming." He waited another beat to make sure the man drove away first. When he got in the passenger seat, he replayed what happened in his mind, locking in every detail of the man for future reference.

He could have just been smitten with Ivy. After all, the woman was too stunning for her own good. Her big eyes and the softness about her brought out the protector in men—he should know.

The beat-up pickup shot out of the parking lot and turned in the opposite direction of the Gracey Ranch.

When Ivy turned toward the main street of Eden, he centered his gaze on her. "Where are we going?"

"To Badlands. I thought we could pick up lunch for the ranch hands."

He softened even more toward Ivy. "You really are a special woman. You know that?"

She tilted her head, studying him as if questioning if he were teasing.

He squeezed her thigh. "I'm serious, baby. And I think the guys will appreciate lunch."

The grin she flashed dazzled him. For a heartbeat, he couldn't even breathe.

Covering his hand where it rested on her thigh, she checked the traffic before pulling onto the main street running through town.

Storefronts were painted in quaint colors of blue, red and green. Flowerpots stood out front, along with signs.

"This place is nothing like the city where I grew up."

"It's a nice town. Small, but nice."

"When you went to Europe, were you dying to get out into the big world?"

She bit her bottom lip. "I was dying to escape, period. When Forest passed, the family fell apart even more. I just needed to breathe—ya know?"

"I do. I was too young to take off for Europe, but I did what I could to escape from the loss of my parents."

She turned her head to pierce him in her beautiful green gaze. "We make a depressing pair."

He chuckled.

As she pulled into the parking lot of Badlands, he studied the parking lot in broad daylight. Without the shadows of darkness that someone with malintent could hide in, the place looked totally normal.

"The owner is a friend of mine. Meadow's too. Her name is Livia. You might have seen her behind the bar working the other night when we came. The redhead?"

"I saw her crawl over the bar to hug you."

She laughed. "Well, I've been gone a long time. We have some catching up to do. C'mon."

They jumped out and walked to the front door. The dim space smelled strongly like rum.

She wrinkled her nose. "Livia must be bottling the rum today."

He had been so busy trying to get people comfortable enough with him to tell him what they knew about the attack on the Gracey, while watching over Ivy too, that he barely took notice that Badlands boasted a bar and distillery on the sign.

"You don't like rum?"

"I'm more of a tequila girl."

"Of course you are." He didn't even want to think about how Ivy would act with a couple shots of Jose Cuervo in her. He didn't come to Montana with enough weapons to keep her safe from the men who'd prey upon her.

She'd probably surprise him by pulling out a taser disguised as a bottle of perfume to protect herself.

As soon as they entered, a cry came from behind the bar. The pretty redhead who rushed toward Ivy wore a big smile on her face. Her thick hair was pulled up in a ponytail and a few wild tendrils floated around her face.

"Ivy! I'm so glad to see you!" The women embraced. When they drew apart, Livia focused on him. "You must be the new ranch hand on the Gracey."

He wasn't shocked that a bar owner heard things. "That's right. Hunter." He extended a hand, and she gripped it like a man, looking him straight in the eyes. A woman who bottled rum was probably used to dealing with a man's world.

She looked between him and Ivy. "You're here for a basket of my famous chicken wings, aren't you?"

Ivy bobbed her head. "I need six baskets actually. Fries too. And some of your fried pickles. I've been craving them!"

"Absolutely. Let me stick my head in the kitchen and let the cook know."

While they waited for the food, he watched Ivy interact with the owner. They talked about a few old friends and a scandal that went down in one of the local churches involving a parish member and the minister.

Ivy was warm and genuine, totally at ease in a way he hadn't seen her even with her own sister. After all they'd endured as a family, it made sense that the sisters didn't always communicate well.

It was obvious they loved each other, but the joy had gone out of their family unit. With Livia, Ivy was much more relaxed, giving Hunter a deeper view into her personality.

When Livia returned to the kitchen and came back with a large takeout bag with twine handles, Hunter took it before Ivy could.

Livia eyed him. "You should keep this one around. He's helpful." She cupped her hand around her mouth and loudly whispered, "And hot!"

Ivy groaned but hugged her friend. Once they were in the truck, Hunter snorted.

"What's that for?"

"Your friend seems to approve of me."

"Livia has terrible taste in men—you can't trust her judgment."

He cocked a brow. "So what's your excuse?"

"Oh, you know." She waved a hand but began driving without ever answering his question.

Spending time with Ivy wasn't as difficult as he once would have believed. As a SEAL, he thought of himself as almost feral. After fighting in the worst conditions, they all were. But one afternoon with the beautiful woman had him ready for domestic life.

They pulled up to the bunkhouse and Ivy honked the truck horn, which brought the ranch hands from the barn and pastures to see what the boss's daughter needed.

When they discovered she was passing out chicken wings and fries, they sat down on the thick lawn to enjoy the food. Ivy and Hunter sat too. While devouring her fried pickles, Ivy talked and joked with the guys.

Hunter observed how the men treated her with a respect that bordered on deference. Even though his opinion of Ivy had changed since they shared that flight, he still thought she acted like royalty.

Ranch royalty.

After their meal, he helped carry the groceries into the house and watched her buzz around, removing everything from insulated shopping bags and stashing the items in their rightful spots.

When she pushed the last bag toward him, he arched a brow. "What's this?" He peeked inside and saw the steaks. "Oh. Hi, Petunia."

She lightly punched him in the arm. "That's not funny! She was my pet!"

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against his body. Staring down into her eyes, he zeroed in on how her breaths came in fast pants and she wiggled in his hold.

"I think it's time I take care of my pet." He leaned in and captured her mouth.