His Secret

I’d been on a walk like this one when I’d realized that I wanted to work with plants. I’d been in New York, a few hours outside of Buffalo, tent camping with my parents and another couple they’d been involved with at the time. I’d had my own little tent, and the four of them had shared a larger one. I hadn’t quite been old enough to realize what it meant that my parents always had other people sleeping in their bed, but I’d known that they were all caught up in whatever they were doing.

  Since they’d mostly left me to myself, I’d gone for walks. I never went off the paths, and I always made sure I got back before dark, but I walked for hours. Walked and looked at plants and trees and flowers. I picked leaves from the trees, picked up rocks, picked flowers.

  And I picked some poison ivy.

  I’d ended up in the hospital with an awful allergic reaction and a desire to never do something that stupid again. When I’d told Kevin and Blair, Kevin had ordered a botany book, and I’d spent the rest of the week reading. I’d fallen in love with plants as I read, and the obsession had only grown since then.

  I’d even forgiven poison ivy.

  My muscles were warming to the movement now, and I realized just how long it had been since I’d been on a long, aimless walk. I walked a lot in Rawlins rather than driving, but it had been a while since I’d done it for the sheer pleasure of it. I’d always been an athletic person, though I hadn’t ever done much in the way of organized sports. It wasn’t until now that I realized how much I’d missed the enjoyment of physical activity.

  As my walk continued, my mind wandered about before coming to rest on work. The day after my parents had talked to me about opening a small shop out here, I’d started working on inventory. I didn’t keep a lot on hand because much of what I dealt in had shelf lives, which meant I needed to figure out how much to take back and forth, and how much new to order.

  I’d also been toying with the idea of finding something that my parents wouldn’t really have to put together but would just be able to sell. That idea was still in the back of my head when I reached a line of pine trees.

  Pinus sylvestris scotica.

  Pine tree resin could be used for a lot of things, particularly as a powerful antiseptic and expectorant. Many of the respiratory remedies I made used resin. The needles were a good source of vitamin C. Maybe that’s what I could do. Instead of purchasing the resin and needles I used, maybe I could collect them here, work on the things I made that used those ingredients. I’d feel less like I was wasting my time here if I kept busy.

  I ducked under a couple low-hanging branches and put my hand on the trunk. Most people thought tree bark was pretty much the same. Some realized there was rough and smooth bark, but not many understood that even among those two distinctions were all sorts of nuances. Things that needed to be felt with the hands to be understood.

  I moved around the tree, trailing my hand across the bark, feeling it, learning where I could harvest the resin without harming the tree. I examined the branches, the needles. Pine cones made beautiful decorations.

  I was so caught up in what I was doing that I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until someone spoke.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  I spun around, nearly tripping. I almost didn’t recognize him because I was a little distracted by the mass of tanned skin and muscle that came with a shirtless Blake Hunter.

  Shit. Blake Hunter.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  “Are you deaf? What the hell are you doing on my property?”

  Nine

  Blake

  The breeze coming in from outside was nice, but even it couldn’t cancel out the blazing fire I needed to work this piece of iron. When I finished this one, I’d be able to take a break and cool down a bit. Technically, I could’ve paused any time I wanted since I was on schedule with the order and I was my own boss, but part of what made me successful at what I did was because I stuck with things until they were done.

  I might’ve inherited a bit of my family’s workaholic tendencies, but at least I was working at something I loved. Grandfather had always said that’s what my dad had done. Instead of joining the family business, Dad had become a journalist because that had been the only thing he’d ever wanted to do. When I’d been introduced to wood-working, I’d finally understood what Grandfather had been talking about. I’d always been decent in school, and I could’ve gone to college if I’d wanted to but working with my hands had appealed to me in a way nothing else had. When I had a project, it consumed me; and drowned out everything else. It was the only thing that had ever been able to clear my mind so completely.

  Since it was just me and Annie and Shane out here, I didn’t have to worry about it taking time away from anyone else.

  I inspected the intricate loops I’d just finished making. If anything was wrong with it, I’d have to go back and re-do it. I compared it to one of the other finished products, then looked at the original design. All three matched. Perfect.

  The familiar sizzle of red-hot metal meeting water mixed with the roar of the fire. These were the sounds of home. Not cars and people and traffic and construction and everything else that came with living in a city. Boston hadn’t been a bad place to grow up, but I preferred where I was now.

  I went through the process of making sure things were in their proper places, the routine virtually automatic after all these years. The blacksmith I’d apprenticed under had told me about a farrier he’d known who’d stepped outside for something without shutting things down, thinking he’d be gone only a minute, and he’d ended up losing half a building and burned the shit out of his arm. Even if I only meant to go outside to cool off, I went through every step, just in case.

  I hung up my apron and headed outside, pulling my sweat-soaked shirt over my head as I went. I closed my eyes as the cool air hit me. I loved what I did, but if I could’ve done it with a little less heat, I wouldn’t have minded. The sun was warm today, but it was a pleasant warmth, the kind that promised spring was on its way.

  I opened my eyes and refocused my mind on what else I needed to do today. The scones would sit for the day and then I’d inspect them again before taking a picture and sending it to my client. If he was satisfied, I’d box them up and ship them out. The larger project he wanted was on my list, but I wouldn’t be working on that today. I had some basic stuff of my own to do. I wasn’t a farrier, but I’d done a bit of training under one, enough to take care of Shane and Annie. I had a pile of other ‘to fix’ stuff sitting on a table in the barn. I’d gotten behind during the time I’d been in Boston, and I hadn’t quite gotten caught up yet. I’d made the shoes for both horses, but that was about it.

  That’s when I remembered that I’d made the shoes but hadn’t taken them to the barn. I often made supplies ahead of time, using extra iron or some extra time while I waited for something else to finish. Instead of keeping them in the forge, I stashed them behind the building in watertight containers. It kept them out of my way and all together in an easily accessible space.

  I walked around back, compiling a mental list of the order I wanted to get things done, but before I reached the containers, I saw movement over by the pine trees that sat at the corner of my property. My mind flipped through all the possible animals it could be. I’d gotten the occasional antelope and even a coyote a time or two, but the figure didn’t move like any of those. Then it came around one of the trees, and I realized it was a person.

  I scowled, my temper flaring to the surface. What the fuck was wrong with people? What made them think they could come wandering onto my property like it was some public park or something? I’d never had this problem before, but two times in two weeks, I’d had people acting like they had every right to go wherever they wanted.

  I stomped over, my annoyance increasing with each step. Within a few yards, I realized it was a woman, but that didn’t make me any less pissed. When I was finally in hearing distance, I spoke.

  “Who the fuck are you?”
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  Probably not the best way to approach things, but I wasn’t the person at fault here. If she had a problem with me being rude, then she shouldn’t have been trespassing to begin with.

  She stumbled as she turned around, but caught herself, and I knew she hadn’t seen me before now. She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place her, and I didn’t particularly care to try.

  “Are you deaf? What the hell are you doing on my property?”

  Her eyebrows went up, answering my half-rhetorical question about her hearing, and I had the sudden impression that I’d crossed some sort of line. I folded my arms over my chest. This wasn’t on me. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

  “I’m not deaf.” Her voice was even, no trace of annoyance at either my questions or my tone. “I’m here because I wanted to look at the pine trees.”

  “You wanted to – what?” I stared at her. Why would someone wander onto my property to look at pine trees?

  “Pine needles are an excellent source of vitamin C,” she explained. “Of course, you don’t want to eat them, but they can be made into a tea that’s quite palatable.”

  “Who are you?” I asked again, but I didn’t sound angry anymore. I was too confused.

  “Brea Chaise,” she said, coming out from under the trees. “And you’re Blake Hunter.”

  “At least you know whose property you’re on.”

  Again, that raised eyebrow, this time accompanied by a quirk of her lips. “Yes, I do. And I was invited.”

  “I sure as hell did not invite you here. This is my property. Mine. You need to go.”

  If my order surprised her, she didn’t show it. In fact, she didn’t show anything other than her obnoxious amusement. She looked down, then from side to side, as if she was trying to find something on the ground. After a moment, she took a few steps to her right, crouched down, and moved aside a clump of tall grass. A little blue flag stuck up from the ground.

  “Property line flag,” she said. “Which means I was never on your property. Hence, your demand for me to leave isn’t applicable.”

  Hence? Who the fuck said hence? Or applicable for that matter?

  Suddenly, I realized why she looked familiar and where I’d heard her name before.

  “You own that goofy store in town.”

  She went still for a moment, and her smile faded from her eyes even though it stayed on her mouth.

  Now that I was looking at her mouth, I couldn’t ignore how nice it was. A little fuller than average, but I liked that. In fact, the more I looked at her, the more I liked what I saw. A firm, athletic body that was both strong and feminine. One that could take anything I could dish out.

  And then my eyes returned to her face, and I saw she wasn’t smiling at all anymore.

  Dammit.

  Ten

  Brea

  Yes, I’d been a little distracted by the fact that Blake wasn’t wearing a shirt. I was only human. He was ripped. Like Greek god ripped. I was only twenty-three, but I’d seen plenty of men who took care of their bodies. Blake looked like he beat his into shape…and it liked it.

  Then he’d opened his mouth and reminded me why a guy’s personality had always meant more to me than his appearance. I might drool over someone who looked like Blake, but it’d never go beyond that. Especially if he was as much of an asshole as this.

  I’d managed to keep myself smiling and polite…until he said, “You own that goofy store in town.”

  That goofy store.

  I stood up, smoothing down my skirt so my hands had something to do that wasn’t slapping Blake for insulting my store when, as far as I knew, he’d never even stepped foot inside it. I rarely found myself wanting to commit violence, but he’d managed to get me close to it with just a short conversation. That alone should have made me walk away.

  One of my personality qualities, however, was a bit of a stubborn streak. Sometimes, it was a positive thing. Like when things at work were tough. When finances were tight. It wouldn’t be hard to shut things down and join my parents, especially now that they had this place. The one thing that the three of us had never been weird about was money. They’d never acted like my trust was the only money I had access to. If I needed it, all I had to do was ask.

  But, being stubborn wasn’t always a good thing, and I had a feeling this was going to be one of those times. Because I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d come out here to look around, and I wasn’t done. No wealthy jerk was going to chase me away from my parents’ place, and I wasn’t going to give him an explanation. It wasn’t any of his business.

  I went back to the trees, trying to refocus on what I’d been thinking about before he’d so rudely interrupted me.

  When it came time to harvest from things that needed to stay living, it had to be done carefully. All the book research I’d done had helped, but there’d been no substitute for actually doing the work myself. Even though I usually bought my herbs rather than gathering them myself – not everything was available in Wyoming – I’d wanted to know the best way to do the work if I had to. I’d learned as much as possible from each person who’d trained me, and because of that, I knew I could get what I needed from the pines without hurting them.

  I pulled down a branch and ran my fingers over the needles, feeling how tightly they clung to the branch, how firm they were. I loved the smell of pine. It always made me think of Christmas. My parents hadn’t really been into celebrating ‘traditional’ holidays, but they’d compromised when it came to me. For each holiday, Blair and Kevin had put their own twist on things, but we’d always had a tree at Christmas.

  “What are you doing?”

  I frowned but didn’t turn to face him. The last thing I needed was to let him see he was getting to me. I knew guys like him. They thrived on that sort of conflict. He wanted me to react. I was sure he was used to intimidating people with his money and size and that gruff, growly man thing he had going on.

  He might think I was some flaky tree-hugger, but he had no idea who I was. If he kept pushing me, though, he was going to find out.

  “I’m examining the tree,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “I can see that. I’m not blind.”

  He sounded closer, and I glanced over my shoulder to see that he was standing next to the blue flag. And he was glowering at me like I was supposed to tell him more.

  I, however, went back to the tree. Maybe it was a little petty of me that I was making things so hard on him, but his comment about my store had pissed me off.

  “Why are you examining the tree? Is there something wrong with it?”

  “Not that I can see,” I said, going to another branch. “I’m just making sure they’re healthy enough for me to harvest resin and needles.”

  “Harvest…what the fuck?”

  I finally looked at him. “You really like that question.”

  He scowled at me, but there was a strange light in those clear blue eyes of his. Something that didn’t quite mesh with the way his mouth was twisting. It was a sensual mouth, more so than I would have imagined on such a rugged man.

  “If you’d answered it the first time, I wouldn’t have had to ask it again.”

  Good point.

  “You clearly must know the sorts of things I sell in my goofy store, which means you know I use things such as pine needles and resin in my salves and teas.” I said the words with a smile, pleased when I saw him have the decency to look embarrassed.

  Unfortunately, embarrassment for him translated into him behaving like an ass.

  “You can’t just come in here and take what you want,” he said, passing the flag and coming on to what I knew was my parents’ land.

  I didn’t call him on it though. I waited to see what he would do next. Most men like this, I would’ve dismissed immediately, but there was something about him that made me wonder why he was like this. As if his behavior was more of an armor than the man he truly was.

  “I don’t give a damn about your store or what you
’re looking for out here. This is my place, and I don’t want you fucking around on it.”

  I was tempted to tell him that if I was fucking around on his land, he would’ve stopped and watched, but I didn’t. I didn’t say anything. I turned my attention back to the tree and snapped off a small branch. I’d need to take a closer look at it before I decided these trees were the best. Before I went home, I’d take a few samples from some of the other trees I’d seen.

  “What the fuck did I just say?!”

  “The word fuck, I believe,” I said mildly. “You say it a lot.” I paused, then added, “I assume that means you like to do it a lot too.”

  I couldn’t resist sneaking a peek to see how he reacted. I was glad I did though because seeing him standing there with his jaw dropped was well worth it. That seemed like a great note to walk out on, so I plucked one additional small branch and turned to walk away.

  “Hey!” he shouted.

  I ignored him.

  “Hey!” He grabbed my wrist, and I stopped.

  I turned around without pulling away. I’d give him a chance to figure out that he was crossing a line, and if he didn’t, the self-defense classes I took as a teenager would give him something else to think about.

  “Yes?”

  “You need to listen to me,” he insisted, looking down at me. “I’m serious about this.”

  He was even bigger close up. I wasn’t a huge woman, but I was enough over average height, and not delicate, that I rarely felt small. He managed to make me feel it.

  And damn did he smell good.

  I’d never been the sort of woman who liked fancy smelling chemicals. Give me plain soap, work sweat, and natural pheromones any day. He had those in spades, making my stomach clench in a way it hadn’t done in a long time.

  “I bought this place because it was private. I don’t invite people out here because I don’t want people out here. I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you. I want you to leave me alone.”