An hour later she sat sipping her coffee while the biscuits finished baking. Scotty had joined her and was busy eating his stack of pancakes. Her mind had finally cleared and was focused on any strategy that would get rid of her unwanted houseguest. She’d just stood to refill her cup when the subject of her thoughts walked into the room.
“Hi, Daddy!”
“G’morning, son. Shea. How’d you sleep?” Alec looked directly at his son.
“Good!”
Alec had anticipated Scotty waking him at least once due to the new and unfamiliar surroundings, but apparently he’d slept through the night. The tantalizing aroma of bacon and freshly brewed coffee stirred his appetite. He poured a cup and let his gaze settle on Shea, who was busy pulling a tray of golden-brown biscuits from the antique oven in the corner. Did she believe the old saying about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach? He smiled. If that’s what she believed, who was he to correct her?
“Smells good. I never pictured you as Little Miss Homemaker.” He smiled. “I think I could get used to this.”
“Have a seat.”
Pulling out the chair next to Scotty, Alec sat down. Within minutes, Shea set a plate of eggs and bacon on the table in front of him, followed by a basket of the biscuits.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Already have.” She nodded to his plate. “You go ahead. Enjoy your breakfast.”
With a brief nod of thanks, he dug in with relish. Shea stood to the side.
The first mouthful tasted as good as it looked. She was a damned fine cook. He shoveled a second helping of the spicy eggs into his mouth, but just as he swallowed, an odd sensation brought his chewing to a halt.
It wasn’t the taste that gave him the first hint he’d been had. It was the pure liquid lava that scorched his mouth and throat and continued to burn all the way down to his toes that gave him his first clue.
His vision clouded with tears as he reached for his glass. An instant of surprised horror raced through his mind at the realization the glass was empty.
“Oops,” Shea said in a bored tone. “I forgot to give you any juice. So sorry.”
Grabbing one of the biscuits, still warm from the oven, he quickly bit down and almost broke a tooth in the process. One slam of the biscuit on the table told him he’d have done better biting into a rock.
And his mouth continued to burn.
“Are the biscuits hard?” She leaned over and lifted one out of the basket. “Huh. Guess I had the oven temperature too low.”
He glowered at Shea, who still stood, a picture of innocence beside the table, before he ran for the sink.
Turning on the faucet, Alec leaned over and gulped at the cool tap. But instead of relieving the scalding sensation, the water actually increased the burning.
“Are you finished with your plate?” she asked from behind him, her tone indicating she saw nothing odd about her husband gulping water from the kitchen faucet while smoke had to be billowing out of his ears. “You didn’t eat much of your eggs. I guess you weren’t very hungry.”
He could only glare at her, his tongue singed to numbness. She picked up the plate and dumped the remains into the sink. “I’ve got some errands to run. Jason needs some help with a couple of chores. I told him you’d meet him behind the main barn right after breakfast.”
“Chores?” he asked, looking at her suspiciously, before reaching for a napkin to wipe his watery eyes and running nose. “Like what?”
“Some fences need mending. Stalls have to be cleaned. A couple of old trees, downed during the last storm, are blocking the north gate. They’ll need to be chopped, split for firewood, hauled to the house and stacked.”
“Anything else?”
She smiled. “Jason has a list.”
The sound of steady clicking challenged the silence in the old house as Shea stepped into the kitchen. She’d intended to start supper as soon as she got home, but curiosity made her set the sack of green beans and new potatoes—a gift from Leona—on the table. A frown crossed her face as she followed the sound out of the kitchen and down the hall. Pushing open the door to her office, she was dumbstruck at the sight of Alec sitting behind the old desk typing on a laptop, his files and papers strewn all over, her ledgers and ranch records pushed to one side. Immediately her temper flared.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He spared her a quick glance. “Working.”
“You’re in my office.”
“There wasn’t another one.”
“You can’t just barge in here and—”
“I have my own work to do. I’m not here solely to be your hired hand.” He glanced at his palm and she couldn’t miss seeing the multitude of blisters. He grimaced and then pulled open the drawer with his fingers. “I need a ruler.”
She crossed her arms in a defensive gesture and refused to respond.
Alec shut the drawer. “Look. My own work can’t come to a crashing halt simply because I’ve changed my address.”
“Well, neither can mine! I can’t work around you. You’ve buried my ledger underneath your junk!”
With a barely concealed sigh of frustration, he nodded his head. “All right, dear,” he said sarcastically. “If you’re going to work in your ledger, may I please set you up at the kitchen table long enough for me to send some emails?”
Emails? She relaxed her stance. His sarcasm was about to change into something much more enthralling and she had a front row seat.
“Emails?” She saw him nod as he stood and began to gather her books. “How are you going to send emails?”
“What do you mean, how am I going to send...?” he began, his words dying in his mouth as realization settled in. “Tell me you have an internet connection.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Well, this is just great.” He sat back, rubbed his neck and then flinched from the blisters on his palms. “My cell is useless out here. I can’t get through to my office on your landline until some talker named Ms. Hoover finishes the call to her sister.”
“That would be Gladys.”
“And now no internet.”
He tossed the pencil onto the desk and stood up. “This is the twenty-first century and you people are still using stone knives and bear skins. It’s amazing old Gladys doesn’t break out the drums.”
“Hey, if you don’t like it...”
Muttering under his breath, Alec stomped past her and limped out of the room, the soreness in his body apparent. Score two points for her side.
The next few days were a repeat of the same routine. After Alec carefully tested the food before eating his breakfast, he and Jason would leave to complete the multitude of tasks needing to be done around the ranch. Because Shea had so much to do to prepare for the roundup—decisions only she could make—Hank had slowly transitioned to the role of part-time babysitter, a job both he and little Scotty seemed to enjoy.
Alec had taken time out to arrange for a wireless internet service. She’d seen the work trucks go up and down the main road indicating the installation of a new communications tower. She didn’t even want to guess how he’d pulled that off. Or how much it had cost. He’d commandeered one of the unused bedrooms upstairs for his office. A new desk and chair had been delivered. After a long day of physical labor with Jason, he would often spend hours in his new office, sometimes working well into the night. Phone calls came in at all hours to his cell phone. If Alec wasn’t there, the call would transfer to an answering service somewhere. Shea often went to sleep listening to him speak in various languages and wondered if he worked with people all over the world. She had to admit, having him at the Bar H was not turning out to be the total nightmare she’d feared. At least not yet.
A couple of weeks after Alec began working with Jason, Shea spotted the younger ranch hand as he walked toward his truck to go home at the end of the day. She’d been curious if Alec had been making an honest effort to lend a hand. She ran to catch up with Jason before he pulled out of the driveway.
“He’s awesome,” Jason replied to her question, grinning. “Alec works as hard as I do. No breaks. No hesitation to take on any job that needs doing. He’s a great guy. You should have married him a long time ago.”
“Thanks.” She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her tone. “See you tomorrow.”
As Jason backed his truck out of the gravel parking area, Shea wondered what Alec was up to. Why would he work so hard to make repairs on a ranch he wanted to level?
She rounded the corner and walked in through the back door of the old farmhouse. She found the subject of her thoughts standing in the kitchen, a bunch of wildflowers clutched in his fist. Her eyebrows shot up at the sight of the big, powerful man clutching a handful of wilting flowers.
“I picked these just before we headed back to the barn.” He held the bouquet out to her. “I thought...well, maybe they might look nice on the table.” She heard a touch of awkwardness in his voice, which was completely out of character for Alec. That surprised her as much as the offering of flowers. “The west pasture was full of them,” he added. “Like a multicolored blanket almost as far as the eye could see. It was amazing. Anyway...”