"Uh, no that's okay. I'm sure I'm not the type of renter he's looking for." God, could this get any more awkward?
"Good, that's settled," Aanon said, snatching a pair of the newly poured shots and passing them down to the girls.
Ben frowned. "Well, why not? She's looking for a place. You're looking for a renter. Bing bang boom. Thank you, Ben."
With a very put upon sigh, Aanon rocked his head back until the taut muscles in his neck stretched. "Look," he said, leveling her with a steady glare. "I have a place fixed up for a ranch hand. Someone who will help me work my place and prepare for the winters here. Someone to watch and feed my animals when I'm away on business during the week. It's set up as a cattleman's cabin. It's not a good place for a pregnant lady with no shot in hell at offering me any help at all."
Mortification burned up her neck like a brush fire and landed in her cheeks. She hadn't been the one to ask for an explanation. His buddy Ben had done that, and Aanon had just ousted her secret to the town in the brand new place she worked. Her stomach clenched at the betrayal. Why would he do that?
One look at her face and his dropped, as if he'd just figured out what he'd done.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Ben. "Hot New Bartender, you're with child?"
Yeck. It sounded weird when he worded it like that.
"How do you know she's knocked up?" the blond-haired girl asked Aanon. "What's going on?"
Aanon threw down a ten and walked out of the bar.
"What did you do to him?" the blond-haired girl asked, as if Farrah had forced him to impregnate her or something.
"I didn't do anything to him. I hitched a ride from him this afternoon. The baby isn't his." The need to clarify burned her up with white-hot anger. Why did it feel like every word that was coming from her mouth was a tiny bomb?
With bellies full of libations and mouths full of gossip, the group trickled out the front door after that. Ben was sweet and tipped well, and he handed her his number before he left. "If you can't find a place to stay tonight, call me," he said.
She thanked him and waved as he skirted the door after his friends. Crumpling the paper and shoving it into the side pocket of her suitcase, she threw herself into work. If there weren't people to serve, she restocked shelves and got to know the aisles of fishing tackle in the back. She figured out the inventory list, and when Briney came back to take over, she asked him to show her how to close the register. When all was said and done, she made twenty three dollars in two hours of work. Not too shabby for a mid-afternoon snow shift. Before donning her winter clothes again, she made herself a sandwich and chips in the tiny kitchen off the back and paid Briney for them on the way out.
"See you Thursday if the weather clears up," he called with a wave.
Stepping out onto the porch with a sense of accomplishment, she inhaled the clean Alaskan breeze. There really was nothing like mountain air. She'd forgotten its smell and allure over the years immersed in city smog.
Dropping her gaze to the blanketing snow, she sighed. The job part was taken care of, but now she needed a place to stay the night.
Chapter Three
Her fault, Aanon thought irritably as he rounded another back road in his Chevy. If she hadn't shown up at that damned gas station all cute and needy, and then pregnant and even more needy, he'd be sitting in his house next to the wood burning stove reading the sports page of last week's newspaper. Instead, he was driving around the woods in whiteout conditions because his stupid conscience would never let him sleep.
She played on the weakest parts of him.
Like an idiot, he'd called everywhere to find a room to rent for the night, and none of them had space. And not one of them had admitted Farrah into their care. So now he was headed back into town to make sure she wasn't frozen on the side of the road somewhere. He was doing it for the baby. That's all. Not for the woman or her smart mouth or sexy lips. Just the baby.
Visibility was nearly zero as snow pelted his truck. The headlights were only able to illuminate a few feet in front of him, and if he didn't know this road like the back of his own eyelids, he'd be in serious trouble. Hell, all it took was one wayward moose in the road, and he was toast.
Her fault.
It didn't take long to find her. An old lantern hung from the tattered shelter they used as a nativity scene during the holidays, and when he turned the truck toward it, Farrah paced inside under the dilapidated roof.
For some reason, her inability to find a warm place for the night pissed him off. She had a kid to think about now. He didn't know what kind of life she had led wherever she'd come from, but if she was some delinquent, homeless girl with no ambitions in life and no way to take care of a child, she should've been more careful with her sex life.
His fury lasted exactly as long as it took to slam his door and roar her name. And then he heard it. The soft sigh of sobbing over the whipping wind. Picking his way carefully over the ice and rocks that surrounded the old shelter, he pulled open the creaking gate and jogged over to where she had slumped into the musty hay. On her knees, she had huddled into herself and wept. The sound wasn't of a woman who'd gotten herself in a bad spot. It was the sound of heartbreak.
"Hey," he said softly. The vinyl of his gloves made a zipping sound as he rubbed the back of her thick winter jacket. "Are you okay?"
Her eyes were startled for a moment before recognition lit them like a flame. She leaned into him, and before he could help himself, he'd wrapped his arms around her.
"I couldn't find a single room open." She hiccupped. "It kept getting later and later and I was begging anyone who would listen, but they just didn't have room, and I didn't know what else to do. I have money. I'm not a bad person, Aanon. I have money to pay but nobody had room for me."
Her plea for his opinion tore at him, and he swallowed hard so his voice wouldn't crack when he spoke. "You can't stay out here. Come on."
He hefted her plum-colored suitcase and led the way to the truck. When she was tucked inside, shivering, he stripped off his jacket and spread it over her legs before blasting the heat.
"I'll pay you for the night, Aanon."
The way she said his name pulled something open inside of him that he'd shut up a long time ago.
"I brought money with me from New York. I just never thought I'd have such trouble finding a place."
"What's that in your hand?" The paper she clutched ruffled in front of the heater.
"Ben's number. He said to call him if I couldn't find a room. I was working up the nerve to go find a payphone."
Ben. He was a great guy, so why did his number in Farrah's gloved hand make him want to set the damned thing on fire?
Rubbing a hand over the stubble of his jaw, he growled, "Look, here's how it's going to be. This place I have fixed up to rent … It was meant to be a cattleman's cabin, like I told you. I'm gone most of the week on business out of town, but I have a small homestead to run, and the animals and plants need to be taken care of. I've been paying my neighbor's kid to take care of it during the week for me, but I really need someone there twenty four hours a day. It isn't a glamorous life, Farrah. It's dirty, and you'll get splinters and blisters, and your muscles will be sore, and you'll be expected to do stuff you haven't done before. If you can't help me work, I'll have to charge you the standard rental price for a place that size so I can afford to continue paying my neighbor to help. I'm in a tight spot for cash." He glanced over at her to make sure she really got what he was saying. "You weren't what I expected in a renter, but if you can help around the place, you just have to come up with a couple hundred dollars a month to stay there."
"I'll work," she whispered through chattering teeth.
"I don't expect you to do anything too hard because I know it isn't safe for you in your current situation. I just need help where you can give it. I'm stretched too thin." Swallowing his pride tasted bitter. "I need help."
"Me, too," she admitted with a blue-tinged smile. "I'll do what I can. You won't have to worry about your place when you go out of town."
"One last thing. This baby's father. Am I going to have to worry about him coming around and stirring up trouble? If I do, that's fine, but I want a heads up."
"No. He doesn't know I'm pregnant."