Chapter 8Rusty

Chapter 8

Rusty

L uke was right about Rose-Gold Locke being pretty. Damn if she's not the prettiest woman I've ever laid my eyes on, even with that big ol' goose egg on her noggin. Not that I've seen a shit ton of women or anything. Just the ones from the village, mainly. We keep to ourselves. That's why I was pissed as hell when I realized my brothers brought her home without asking what I thought. We make decisions together.

I will admit—even though I'm still not happy with them, well, it's hard to be pissed at her, even though I'm naturally inclined to follow Luke's lead.

We finish lunch and everyone lingers around indoors. Clearly no one wants to be the first to leave. Most of our chores are outside, and Rose-Gold Locke is not.

I'm on dish duty so Luke pulls me aside. Tells me the work on the roof can wait 'til tomorrow. Asks me to hang around inside the cabin and keep an eye on Rose-Gold Locke.

"Don't let her out of your sight. Not even for a second, alright? Except for when she's gotta piss, one of us needs to be with her at all times. I don't want her rummaging around."

"No problem," I tell him. To anyone who doesn't know him, Luke would probably come across as paranoid as hell, but he's just trying to protect us. We're all grown, but he takes his role as the oldest real serious. He more or less raised me up, and I trust he knows best. I owe him that trust. We all do. He's earned it.

Besides, I don't mind sticking by Rose-Gold Locke's side like glue. I've had far worse jobs.

I leave the sink. It's overflowing with dishes that spill out onto the countertop. But I want to get to my new assignment immediately, even though Lynx is with her now. We're almost out of washing-up liquid, anyway.

She's lying on the couch, propped up by a pile of pillows, and I sit in one of the end chairs, trying to mind my posture. When you hit six feet by the time you're ten, it becomes kind of second nature to hunch over. But something about her makes me want to keep my shoulders back, to sit up, stand up straight.

Half an hour has passed since Buck and Ranger went to her campsite to fetch her belongings. She was damn cute, volunteering to draw them a map.

"If you can just find a pencil and a piece of scrap paper," she said, looking around like one of those items might magically appear hovering in the air within arm's reach.

"Goldie," Buck had told her. "With all due respect, we know every tree on this mountain by name. We know just the spot you're talking about and will have no trouble getting there."

But now I'm wondering if they did run into trouble because they should've been there and back in twenty minutes, tops.

Lynx is sitting at the very end of the couch, with Rose-Gold Locke's feet propped up in his lap. He's been taking his sweet time and I think by now we can call her ankle thoroughly examined. Can't blame him. I'd be touching her as much as I could too, if I had a reason for it and permission. She's so damn pretty, and I bet her skin is soft as all hell.

"It's probably just a bad sprain," he pronounces, at last. "I'm going to wrap it up, but I think it's a good idea to stay off it as much as possible for a couple days. Better safe than sorry. Hope that won't foil your plans too much. Most medical professionals would tell you to ice it, but we've got a poultice that'll work wonders. Let me grab that."

He gets up and heads to get his first aid bag.

It's quiet for a minute, awkwardly so, with me trying not to stare at Rose-Gold Locke and her sending furtive glances in my direction, catching my failed attempts not to stare at her every time.

"The poultice is made of slippery elm root and pine resin," I say for lack of nothing else appropriate to offer.

"Oh," she says.

I nod. "Yeah."

Just as I'm about to add that the pine resin seals up wounds and the slippery elm root soothes and reduces inflammation, she asks quite abruptly, "Why didn't he go to medical school?"

It's ridiculous for me to be jealous that she's questioning me about Lynx and not about me, but jealous I am.

"He'd have to live out there." I shrug, keeping it simple, because I don't think Lynx would appreciate me telling her that he didn't go to medical school because he dropped out of college practically as soon as he started, turning tail and coming back home.

Rose-Gold Locke gives me a small smile that feels like I've been offered a treasure. It sends shivers all the way up and then all the way down my damn spine. It's like that mouth of hers is a spark and my whole body is getting ready to short out. Then she takes a deep breath and lets it out, her chest rising and falling. She is what you call buxom, a word I learned from Jane Eyre by Miss Charlotte Bront?.

Don't stare at her tits, don't stare at her tits…

What the hell is taking Lynx so long? Is he making a new batch of the poultice from scratch?

Rose-Gold Locke has the most magnificent tits I've ever laid eyes on.

"Life out there's not so bad," she says. "Though I totally understand it's not for everyone. Living off the grid has its advantages too, right?"

"Hmm."

I don't know if she's batting her eyelashes at me as some kind of mating ritual or if that's just how her face is. I think about what Luke said about mating on the table and…well. I know what I'll be thinking about the next time I pleasure myself. It's not respectful, but I can't help thinking about her on her hands and knees on the table, me behind her.

I shift my position, because the front of my pants is about to be tented. Just to be on the safe side, I grab a throw pillow and place it in my lap, trying to look casual about it.

The faint scent of the washing liquid that I always put in my bathwater to get my hair clean still clings to her. I can't imagine her hair ever looking like it was dipped in a frying pan full of sausage grease the way mine sometimes does, that's for sure, so I don't think she needed the washing liquid. But it doesn't seem to have done any harm because all that hair of hers is coiled into shiny ropes of gold ringlets down her back. It looks so soft, the color lightening as it dries.

And I bet she tastes like raspberries and cream too.

"I'm really sorry I took your bath, Rusty," she adds, as if reading my thoughts.

I try to covertly sniff my armpit. I smell like sweat from my run. Hopefully she doesn't find my natural scent too offensive to her sensibilities.

"It's alright." I press my lips together to keep from saying more. You give city women an inch and they'll take a mile. That's what Ma used to say, anyway. I wouldn't mind giving Rose-Gold Locke every inch of my cock, but somehow I don't think that's what Ma meant.

"So…" Her teeth run along the top of her lip as she glances around the cabin. "It's just the ten…brothers…of you living up here together? None of you are married? No girlfriends or significant others?"

She thinks we might have ourselves wives? Or girlfriends? Or could she just be inquiring because she likes what she sees and doesn't want me to have myself a wife or a girlfriend?

Oh damn. I think I'm blushing. And my pants are definitely tented now.

"No, it's just us."

"None of you have ever been married?" She raises her eyebrows. Her eyes are a shade of blue I've never seen in my life. Even the sky doesn't compare. They're so bright.

I shake my head. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh. I just…the bubble bath…kind of a fancy, feminine touch. I thought maybe one or more of you had a special someone in their lives who it might belong to."

I glance over to the sink, where the near empty bottle of washing liquid sits on the crowded counter. I didn't think there was anything fancy or feminine about washing liquid, but I can't say I'm an expert in women. "No, ma'am."

She nods. We're quiet again for a minute, but then she starts to open her mouth to say something else.

I never get to hear what it is because there's a commotion at the front door. Buck and Ranger are back, and a second after they enter, Lynx returns, and Luke and Ash come in the back door.

Luke is grumbling about something. Ash is nodding in agreement. "It's a big problem."

"What's a big problem?" Rose-Gold Locke asks.

"It's not your big problem, so don't worry your pretty little head about it," Luke says.

She raises her eyebrows. What I know about women could fit in a thimble, but I'm gonna bet this one doesn't appreciate his dismissive tone.

"What's a big problem?" I ask. I don't particularly want to know—because it's probably something I'll get stuck dealing with, which happens a lot when you're the youngest—but if Rose-Gold Locke wants to know, I want her to know. Deep down, I know I should listen to Luke and keep my guard up, but…she just seems so sweet and innocent, not threatening in any way.

"It's gonna snow," Ash says. "Tonight."

Rose-Gold Locke shakes her head and all those damp curls shimmy around her shoulders. "Wrong. There is absolutely no way it's going to snow tonight or any night this week. I listened to the forecast before I left, then again on the way up. The meteorologist said there would be a zero percent chance of precipitation for the next seven days."

Everyone stares at her for a moment. Partly mesmerized by her shimmering hair, and partly surprised because no one would think to contradict Ash. My brother knows clouds, and if he says it's going to snow, then it's definitely going to snow. You can bet your money on it.

"I know clouds," Ash says to her with a smirk, and her cheeks go pink in the prettiest blush. "If I say it's gonna snow, it's gonna snow. At least a foot." He pauses and sniffs the air. "Probably more."

I don't want her to keep looking at Ash with those big, bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks and lips that have parted, her tongue giving them a little lick, so I grasp for something to say.

Sadly, the best I can do is state the obvious. "We're not gonna have time to finish the roof."

"Well, we have no choice," Luke says. "That kind of load and it could cave in on us."

"Your roof is caving in?" Rose-Gold Locke asks.

I start to say that this whole place is falling apart, but from the look on Luke's face, I'll probably fare better by keeping quiet, so I do.

"Not your problem," he tells her, downright dismissively.

"We're just gonna have to patch it up as best we can for now, get out the tarps, and hope for the best," Ash says. His gaze flits to Rose-Gold Locke and he shoves his hands in his pockets. "I suppose I could be wrong, I guess…"

"You're never wrong," Luke sighs. Sometimes he looks like he has the weight of the world on him and it makes me feel uncomfortable in my belly. He's sacrificed so much for us all. Maybe I should have pushed the guys harder to let him have his way and make Rose-Gold leave… "Okay. Ash and I'll deal with the roof. Buck, Range—"

"Garden, we know. We're on it," Buck says. He and Ranger put Goldie's bags down.

"We took the liberty of pitching your tent for you, miss," Ranger tells her. "So you don't have that hassle when you head back that way."

"No way is a tent gonna withstand the snow," Ash says. "Might need to go take it back down so it doesn't sustain damage…"

"We don't have time for that. Besides, I thought we decided she was not going to be camping on the mountain," Luke says. "She won't need a tent if she goes to the Wilderness Haven Retreat and Lodge, where she belongs."

"She wasn't on our property," Ranger says, which gets him a glare from Luke. "She wasn't."

Ranger is nothing if not honest to a fault. He can't help himself.

"Thank you guys so much for doing that. I really appreciate it," Rose-Gold says. "I promise I'll be out of your hair and into my tent first thing in the morning."

"I doubt you'll want to camp out in the snow, and like Ash says your tent won't hold up to it, anyway," Luke says. "Wilderness Haven is about three miles due north. You best go there."

"Well, I doubt it'll be safe for me to drive right after a snowstorm on the twisty roads out here, either," she shoots back without skipping a beat. Oooh, this one is a spitfire. I didn't think a woman existed who could hold her own with Luke like this. I fight a grin and thankfully win, beating it down before Luke can notice. "So I don't really have much of a choice."

Luke harrumphs. She has a very good point. But he has one too, of course. "You have a choice if you leave the mountain right now."

Lynx shakes his head. "She needs to keep her weight off that ankle and she does not need to be behind the wheel with that head injury. Could black out at any moment, which would be dangerous for her and anyone else on the roads."

Luke huffs. "Rusty, you're going to keep Goldie company, right?" he asks, even though we've already been over that.

Trying not to come across as too eager, I nod.

"I don't mind keeping her company," Lynx pipes up, "if you have other things you need to do, Rusty."

I want to introduce his face to my fist.

"We all have other things we need to do," Luke says, then sends a dark look in Rose-Gold's direction, hell-bent on making her as unwelcome as possible. "But it is what it is, I suppose."

"Why do you hate me so much? You don't even know me." The hurt in Rose-Gold's voice makes me want to pick her up and cuddle her to my chest.

"I don't feel one way or another about you specifically, ma'am," he says. "It's your kind in general being on my mountain I take issue with."

"My kind? You mean people who make the honest-to-God mistake of thinking that, from a bit of a distance, you're Sasquatches? Maybe if you groomed yourself a little—"

Luke draws in a breath that shuts her up fast, and the rest of us freeze. Lynx's hand is hovering midair, poultice dripping from his fingers.

"Our grooming is just fine. Believe me when I say, it's outsiders nosing where they don't belong that's the problem."

"Okay, yeah, if you're happy with how you look, that's definitely what matters most, I agree. But if you just cleaned up a bit, it'd make a world of difference. You're all a little rough around the edges, but I can tell you're all hot as hell underneath. Ooh!" She sits up straighter, beaming. "I could give you makeovers to pay you back for your hospitality—"

"Like Luke said, outsiders are the problem," Ash says with a scowl. "We're just fine with how we look."

Luke storms out, and Ash follows. Buck watches Rose-Gold, opening and closing his mouth like he wants to say something, but after a moment, he and Ranger head out too.

Lynx finishes tending to Rose-Gold's ankle in silence.

"It's swelling a bit more than I'd like," he says without looking her in the eye. "We'll keep watch on it. Rusty, how about get her an ice pack for that forehead, huh?"

Then he leaves too, and it's just me and Rose-Gold.

"I don't need an ice pack," she says softly.

"You sure? That's some goose egg."

"I'm sure."

A pang of sympathy rings in my chest for her. Luke's bark is worse than his bite, but Rose-Gold doesn't know it, and yet she's keeping her chin up. Brave, though I catch her eyes flash with hurt. Rejection sucks, and I can't imagine she has much experience with it.

I study her a moment longer, taking in the delicate curves of her flushed cheeks. I imagine brushing the curls that have loosened from the rest off her face. I can almost feel the warmth of her skin against my fingertips, and I make a fist to stop myself from acting on impulse and making a move to tuck the errant strands behind her ear.

I shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling the need to fill the void in our conversation with words.

"Sorry 'bout Luke," I say, breaking the silence. I should probably apologize for myself too. "He's…well, he's got his ways. We all do. And none of us are used to outsiders, especially not ones with…well, with ideas like yours."

Rose-Gold offers me a small, grateful smile. "It's not your fault. I can see I'm not your typical visitor, and I suppose I am interrupting your life, screwing up your daily routine—"

"You aren't," I insist. I mean, she is, but in the very best way. Though I was strictly in Luke's corner at first, I just want to make her feel at ease now. "Sometimes when I look in the mirror, for half a second I mistake my own reflection for a Sasquatch, so don't feel too bad about it."

One corner of her mouth lifts in a smile, but I can tell she's not convinced.

"Really. I holler in abject terror. All my brothers come rushing in to make sure I'm okay. It's downright embarrassing."

She winks, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "Well, the offer for the makeover still stands." She pauses. "If you really want me to."

"A makeover, huh? Might take you a few weeks to get an unhewn fella like me gussied up. You sure you feel up to the task?"

"Well, I'm only staying a night, remember?"

I really should shut myself up faster, because a makeover would probably require her touching me, standing close, maybe even brushing against me with those tits…

I shake that thought from my head, then I nod. "Right. So we probably wouldn't have enough time."

Besides, me agreeing to a makeover would be me making a decision without my brothers, and I didn't like it when they did that to me so saying no is definitely the right thing to do…

But she sure is pretty.

"You'd be surprised what a difference even a couple of hours could make," she says, her voice soft as she looks me over. "After all, it's not like I want to change everything about you. Just some minor enhancements."

What harm could there be in some minor enhancements?

"Well," I say, "if you're offering, I'm not gonna turn you down. Just a little bit of cleaning me up, you said?"

Rose-Gold lights up at that, making a sweet little sound of happiness that's a cross between a squeak and a squeal.

"Good," she says with a grin, "because I've got a few ideas for you in mind already."

And I should be worried, probably, but I can't help but laugh, because maybe, just maybe, even if only for one night, this little spitfire and her fancy, feminine touch is exactly what we need around this place.