Chapter 4: John

Chapter 4 – John

My heart is still thudding somethin’ fierce. I wasn’t expecting her—I wasn’t expecting anyone. I keep a spare change of clothes in the tack room so I can change after a hot ride without having to go to my cabin. I guess I should have closed the door, maybe even locked it.

I hate that she saw my scars. It’s not that I’m ashamed of them. I just wish she hadn’t seen them. I hate knowing she saw how disfigured I am.

Thanks to Nora’s help, the horses that went out on the trail ride have all been taken care of, so I might as well head to my cabin to eat this lunch. I am hungry. It was awful nice of her to bring me something to eat. I can’t remember the last time somebody did that for me.

I exit out the back of the barn and walk across the yard to the cabin I call home. It’s a one-and-a-half story log cabin, nothing fancy. The downstairs is one open room with a sitting area, a wood stove, and a kitchen. A bathroom, too. Upstairs is a bedroom and another bathroom. When I hired on here, Hannah and Killian gave me the choice of this cabin or one of the renovated staff apartments. I chose the cabin, hands down. The less I have to do with people, the better. Plus I’m closer to the horses. I’ll hear if there’s any trouble in the night.

I climb the wooden steps up to the front porch and let myself into the cabin. It’s sparsely furnished, but perfectly comfortable, and it’s enough for me. I’ve even got a TV and Internet. I set the bag of food on the dining table, then head to the fridge to grab a cold bottle of Coke. I plant myself on a chair and open the bag. It’s the usual lunch fare—a sandwich, chips, and brownies. The brownies are still warm, and I eat one of them first. I have a sweet tooth, and I’m a sucker for dessert.

Next, I annihilate the sandwich, washing it down with gulps of ice-cold Coke. It’s not bad for a sandwich, really, but I’m curious to find out what will be on offer after Gabrielle has a hand in developing a full menu. I don’t want to get too excited, but I’m looking forward to having some hot, homecooked meals.

About the time I’m done eating, there’s a knock at my door. “Come in.”

The door swings open, and Killian steps inside. “Did you get something to eat?”

I nod. “Gabrielle brought me some lunch since I didn’t make it to the dining room.”

“Really?” Killian raises a brow. “That was nice of her. Speaking of Gabrielle, I was wondering if you’d take her into town and introduce her to Maggie. Show her where the butcher’s shop is and introduce her to Jennie and Ruth.”

“Me?”

He nods. “Yeah, you. Why not?”

“Why not Hannah? Or Maya or Travis?”

“Well, because they’re all busy. Besides, she’s already met you. She doesn’t really know anyone else. She’ll also be wantin’ to go to the kitchen supply store in Denver early next week so she can order new appliances for the kitchen. I’d like you to drive her.”

“Me?”

Killian gives me an odd look. “Yes, you. Have you got a problem with it?”

“No. I just thought Maya or—”

“Maya and Travis are booked solid all week. You’re the only one with any free time, so I’d appreciate it if you’d show Gabrielle around. Introduce her to Maggie and the other ladies in town. We need to make a good impression, Burke. We want her to like it here so she’ll stay. Bryce is a far cry from Chicago, if you know what I mean.”

Sighing, I nod. “Fine. I just figured if you wanted to make a good impression on her, you’d ask someone else.”

Grinning, Killian shakes his head. “Thanks for helpin’ out.” He points toward the door. “I’ve got to get back.” He pauses on the threshold. “Oh, she’s ready, by the way. Gabrielle. She’s just waitin’ on you. I left her sitting on one of the benches outside the lodge.”

I shoot to my feet. “Why didn’t you say so before now?” I grab a napkin and wipe my mouth. “I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

I run upstairs to grab a five-minute shower and brush my teeth. When I come back down, Killian is gone.

“I can’t believe he left her waiting out there,” I mutter as I grab my keys, wallet, and phone and head over to the lodge.

I spot Gabrielle right where Killian said she’d be—sittin’ outside the lodge. It’s not hard to spot her from a distance, not with her distinctive red hair. Well, it’s sort of a soft red, almost orange really. She’s got freckles, too, the color of cinnamon. Damn, she’s pretty. She’s probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.

When she spots me approaching, she stands and smiles, waving at me. She changed her clothes since I picked her up this morning at the airport, and her hair is pulled back into a single braid. I swear she looks even younger with her hair like that.

Too young for the likes of me.

“Thanks for agreeing to show me around town,” she says. She seems genuinely excited at the prospect.

I tip the brim of my hat. “My pleasure.”

Her smile widens, and the corners of her eyes crinkle. I stare at those crystal-clear green pools, pristine like the water up at Pine Lake. My chest tightens.

I make a mental note to ream Killian’s ass for makin’ me do this.

I point to my truck, which is parked a few feet away. “Ready to go?”

“You bet.” She’s practically bouncing on her toes. “Lead the way.”

Once we’re in the truck and heading toward town, I remember my manners. “Thanks for bringin’ me some lunch. It was really good.”

She grins wryly. “It’ll do in a pinch. I can’t wait to establish a proper menu. You’ll have lots of choices then.”

“Besides cold sandwiches and canned soup?”

She grins. “Yes.”

“Such as?”

“Well, steaks and burgers, meatloaf, fried chicken, pot roast—”

“Pot roast? Really?”

“Yes. Salmon, some pasta dishes—that’s my specialty. You should try my Bolognese sauce. It’s epic. My Alfredo is good, too. And I make an outstanding lasagna.”

“That’s a lot of dishes.”

“That’s only the half of it. It’s doable once the kitchen is upgraded and I have an adequate staffing level. But that’s assuming I can source the ingredients I need.”

It’s just a ten-minute drive to Bryce. I slow down as we approach what passes for a downtown here.

“I’m afraid it’s not much,” I admit as I drive slowly past the shops. “Just these three blocks.”

Her gaze is glued to the businesses we pass.

“There’s Emerson’s Grocery Store. They have good produce and fresh seafood. The butcher’s shop is two blocks that way.”

“What about the farmers market?”

“That’s held in the church parking lot on Wednesdays and Saturdays, nine to four.”

“So, there’s one tomorrow?” She looks at me with a hopeful glint in her eye.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to go.”

“I’d love to. Killian told me he has a Jeep I can drive, but I guess it’s in the shop right now for maintenance. I’ll need a ride.”

I sigh. I know what I’ll be doin’ tomorrow. “I have a trail ride scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, but I’ve got some free time in the morning. I’ll take you.”

“Thank you! It’s a date.” She grins. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“I do.” I park in front of Emerson’s and shut off the engine. “We might as well start here. Hopefully Maggie’s in today. She and her husband take turns manning the store.”

We get out of the truck and walk inside. Immediately, I spot Maggie behind the sales counter ringing up a sale. “Hey, Maggie,” I say when she’s free. “This is Gabrielle Hunter, the new—”

Maggie comes tearing around the sales counter the instant she hears Gabrielle’s name. “Oh, my God, you’re actually here!” Gabrielle holds her hand out to shake, but Maggie’s havin’ none of that. She pulls Gabrielle in for a hug. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. Hannah’s been talking about nothing else for the past month. I feel like I already know you.” She laughs. “Hannah’s so excited to finally get the restaurant off the ground. You are a godsend, that’s for sure.”

“I’m excited to be here,” Gabrielle says.

“So, what brings you in today?” Maggie asks.

Gabrielle nods to me. “John offered to give me a tour of town and introduce me to folks. And while I’m here, I’d like to pick up some ingredients for dinner tonight.”

“John?” Maggie grins at me.

“Apparently, Gabrielle’s offended by the idea of calling me Burke.” But the truth is, I really don’t mind what Gabrielle calls me. She can call me anything she likes. I scan the store looking for Maggie’s husband. “Is Owen around?”

“He’s at home doing daddy duty.” To Gabrielle, she says, “We have a two-month-old daughter, Claire.”

The door opens and Maggie’s 18-year-old son, Ryan, walks in. “Hey, Mom. Owen said you needed help unpacking some deliveries.”

Maggie points to the back of the store. “Boxes are in the storeroom. Thanks, honey. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” the kid says as he shuffles off to the back of the building. He tosses me a wave. “Hey, Burke.”

“Hey, Ryan,” I say.

“So, what can I help you with?” Maggie asks Gabrielle.

“I’ll be building a menu for the restaurant, and what I can make depends a lot on what ingredients I can source. I’m hoping to purchase locally, and preferably organic.”

“I can help you with a lot of that. With the amount of food you’ll be buying, I can give you a decent discount.” Maggie motions for Gabrielle to follow her. “Come on, I’ll show you the produce department.”

I point toward the back of the store. “While you ladies talk vegetables, I’ll lend Ryan a hand with the boxes.” Making my escape, I head for the storage room. “Need some help?” I ask Ryan.

The kid nods. “Sure. How about opening up these boxes so I can unload them?”

I pull a pocketknife out of my back jeans pocket and start slicing open boxes.

“So, who’s the hot redhead?” Ryan asks, trying to sound nonchalant as he unpacks a box of toilet paper.

I freeze, the knife embedded in the top seam of a box. “Watch it, kid. She’s Ms. Hunter to you. She works for Hannah and Killian, so unless you want them breathin’ down your neck, I’d mind my manners if I were you. And as far as you’re concerned, don’t call her hot or the redhead. It’s disrespectful.”

“I didn’t mean anything rude by it,” Ryan says a bit sullenly. “I just meant she’s pretty.”

“She’s also too old for you, so forget it.”

Ryan scoffs as he stacks packages of toilet paper onto a cart. “Age is just a number. Besides, I think older girls are hot—I mean attractive. I’m not an ageist. How old do you think she is? Like twenty?”

Now it’s my turn to scoff. “Try closer to twenty-eight or twenty-nine. Like I said, she’s too old for you.”

“That old, huh?” Ryan gives me a calculated look. “Then that means she’s too young for you.”

I stand there speechless as Ryan rolls the cart of toilet paper out into the store. My mouth falls open, but I haven’t got a comeback to save my life, not that it would do me any good since the kid’s already out of earshot. Am I being so obvious that a teenager can see right through me?

I’m not—she’s not—oh, hell.