“Why were you interested in the maps, Jase?”
Jase pushed the last bite of burrito around on his plate with his fork. “The ranch is so big, and I hated that all the workers knew every canyon and peak and I had no idea what they were talking about. They’d be talking about the cattle being in some canyon; I’d ask where it was, and they’d laugh at me. I hated that. I hated feeling so small and stupid all the time. I was the boss’s son, and they knew more than I did.”
Cole swore savagely under his breath, his back to the boy. Every little hurt added more to Jase’s feelings of inadequacy. The old man had purposely made him look small in front of the ranch hands, belittling him and correcting him, even publicly humiliating and punishing him every chance he got. Cole knew without Jase’s telling him, because he’d received the same treatment.
“I’ll find you maps of the ranch, Jase,” he promised gruffly. “Even if I have to draw them myself.”
“Thanks, Cole.” Jase stood up and carried his plate to the sink. “Has the doc been up a long time?”
Cole inhaled the scent of fresh coffee. “Yeah, she’s been up a while. She’s out there with that horse of yours. Go on, I’ll take care of cleanup this morning.” Cole waved the boy out, not wanting to face Maia yet. She’d disarmed him without even trying, filling the house with the fragrance of breakfast, giving him an unfamiliar sense of warmth and home. He sat there for a moment contemplating that. He’d never felt as if he’d had a home before.
When he woke up that morning he’d been instantly aware that Maia Armstrong was in his house. Not just any woman, but Maia Armstrong. He never let a woman spend the night with him, and he always left their houses immediately after sex. With Maia, everything seemed different, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. It wasn’t the fact that he’d awakened with a hell of a hard-on from the erotic dream he’d had about her, instead of waking from the usual nightmare, tangled in his sheets with a gun in his hand. It was because she’d brought a sense of home to the monstrosity of a house he occupied.
He had awakened looking forward to the day and he hadn’t experienced that feeling very often. He had lain there, staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding and his mouth dry, terrified that Maia Armstrong could do that to him. Make him happy by just being in his house. By making a building seem like a home just with her presence. By removing the endless nightmares and replacing them with dreams of her. Her smile. She had a killer smile. Her eyes went soft, almost mesmerizing. The sound of her laughter. It seemed to vibrate through his body, wrap around him until it squeezed his heart and lungs.
He swore out loud, jumping up fast enough to knock over his chair and turning around in the huge kitchen without a real purpose. She was getting under his skin. He should have found a way to seduce her last night and get it over with; instead, he’d revealed intimate, private details he never should have admitted. She had ammunition to use against him, and he’d given it to her. “Oh, you’re good, lady,” he said. “What are you after?” He picked up the chair, slamming it against the table.
Immediately he was ashamed of himself. What was he thinking she wanted? Him? She’d made it clear she had no intention of sleeping with him. His money? That would entail some kind of a relationship with him. He threw a plate into the soapy water, avoiding the dishwasher. Suds and water splashed over the edge of the sink. He needed a damned housekeeper, not a girlfriend.
“Cole!” Jase burst threw the kitchen door, slamming it back on its frame so hard it nearly bounced. “Come quick. The doc fell and hit her head.”
Cole rushed past him, his heart in his throat. “How the hell did that happen?”
“I don’t know, I found her on the walkway. There’s ice all around her.”
“Ice?” Cole sprinted along the covered walkway. There was snow piled high on either side and more flakes were coming down rapidly. The walkways had been specifically constructed with a wide overhang to keep any water from running down onto the surface for the very purpose of keeping ice from forming. The latticework and snow, piled so high on either side, kept the wind and drafts at bay, forming a warmer tunnel for them to use in going back and forth between the various buildings.
Maia lay sprawled on the ground, one hand at the back of her head. Cole could see the bright red blood staining the white snow underneath her. He crouched beside her, catching her hand gently and drawing it away from the wound. “Let me see.”