“That’s what I thought. Good Alaskan man, strong back, you won’t have to worry about me going crazy over a dark winter, I can work from sunup until sundown and beyond, and I am one fuck of a good hunter. You won’t go hungry, and I will put weight on you. From the looks of it, you didn’t fare well this past winter, and you haven’t made up your reserves. This,” he said, letting the lid of her freezer fall loudly, “isn’t acceptable, and it won’t be this low again if I have any say in the matter. I have good hygiene, and as far as the romantics need not apply slice of this lunatic pie, I don’t have a romantic bone in my body, so you’re good on not losing your heart to me. That’s the point of this, right? Shack up for help around this place, but safely after your last man turned out to be a piece of shit?”
Elyse made a shocked noise in her throat, but the man spun on his heel and strode for the house. He set his narrowed gaze on the woodpile and counted the cords she had cut, which were a pathetic few. Then he made his way to the horse shelter and leaned on the fence, not inviting one sentence of conversation from her while he studied her horses and the chicken coop that now housed exactly zero chickens on account of Cole giving her poultry meat away for booze.
“I have goats in the barn.”
“How many head of cattle?”
“Only fifteen now,” she murmured, feeling dizzy for reasons she couldn’t explain.
“Where are they?”
“Twenty miles up the river on better grazing grounds. My brother checks on them to make sure predators haven’t got them, and I’ll pay him with a one to butcher when he helps me drive them back here for winter. I go out there a couple times a week if I’m able.”
“Hay?”
“I got it planted. It’ll need cutting soon.”
“You got snow machines?”
“One. It needs work to run.”
“And the garden?”
“Out back. It’s overrun with weeds and not producing much right now. I’ve been having trouble keeping up.”
The man strode away from her on those long legs, his boots squishing over the muddy drive. Elyse rushed to follow. On the porch, he kicked his shoes off and pushed open the door to her cabin. She winced at what his attention hesitated on. Dishes in the sink, dead flowers in the vase on the table, un-swept floors, dust on everything.
He hooked his hands on his hips and shook his head.
“I must look pathetic to you,” she whispered.
“No.” He turned and gave her a sympathetic glance with those striking eyes of his. “I’m pissed at your last man for draining you like this, but I can see you’ve tried. It’s been months since he left, though. You should’ve rebounded.” He gave a long, irritated sigh. “I’ll consider your offer and give you an answer before weeks’ end.”
“Okay,” she murmured, shocked. Had she made him an offer? She was supposed to be in charge of negotiations, but he’d come in here and dumped her off balance.
He strode out of her house and shoved his feet into his boots. Without bothering to tie the laces, he strode off for an old cream and brown Ford truck with fat tires and mud all down the sides.
“Wait!” she said, lifting her voice as he drove away. “What’s your name?”
“Ian.” With one last flash of blue eyes before he drove away, he called out the window, “Ian Silver.”
Chapter Five
Ian pulled over to the side of the road about a mile from Elyse’s homestead. “Dammit!” he yelled, slamming his open palm against the steering wheel.
Wrecked by how different she looked, he couldn’t drive like this. His skin prickled with the first tingles of the Change, and if he didn’t get it under control, he would destroy his truck and Change way too close to Elyse. And he could feel what his inner bear was planning. The monster was pissed that he was driving away from her right now. He would be back at her cabin in a minute flat if he gave the animal his skin right now.
Skin and bones. Fuck. She looked so different from the folded picture he’d been carrying around in his back pocket for the last four months since he’d put Cole down. She was thin in the picture, sure, but now? Her damned collar bones were sticking through her thin, gray shirt as though she had no meat on her at all. And her hands were shaking, but she didn’t smell nervous. And it wasn’t the drink or any other kind of self-medication that was making her this way, either. He would’ve smelled that, too. No, she was hungry and working herself to death to keep that place running.
There had been two salmon in her freezer. Two. The first snow would come in two months if she was lucky, and all she had stocked up for it was two goddamned fish. He hated Cole all over again for not being stronger. Giving her chickens away to his no-account brothers. That wasn’t the crazy part of him. That was the learned, freeloading part of him. He’d thought Elyse could save him, but Cole hadn’t ever stood a chance of her doing him any good. Not when he used her up like that.
For the hundredth time, he wanted to read the letter Cole had given him to deliver to Elyse. Ian had kept it neatly and tightly folded over the last four months. It was private and none of his business, but dang it all, he was curious about what Cole could’ve possibly written to make an apology this big.
She was hiring a husband!