LITMIR.BIZ

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him feel like a lecherous old man.

      “Stay away from her,” he snarled.

      “Hey, take it easy.”

      “I don’t give a damn about the conditions of the trust. You touch Natalie, you hurt her, and I personally guarantee you’ll never sit a bronc the same way again. Your rodeo career will be over.”

      Not much of a threat. Aaron quit rodeoing right after Hailey died. Apparently, Jake didn’t know, and Aaron didn’t bother to enlighten him.

      “Look, I’m not interested in her.” Since what Aaron said was the truth, he saw no reason to engage Jake in an argument. They would have enough problems getting along without adding to them.

      “Remember what I said.” Jake leveled a finger at him.

      Protective. He’d been like that with Hailey, too. Or, was it controlling?

      Considering the intensity of his warning, Aaron thought his former brother-in-law might assume the duty of showing him to his quarters. Instead, the phone on the desk rang, and he dismissed Aaron with a brusque “That’s all for now.”

      Natalie was waiting for him outside the office. More accurately, she was seated at a computer and looked up expectantly when he emerged.

      Aaron felt a small something when their gazes connected…and held. Not exactly a spark. More of a brief flicker. It was hard to tell. His sensors were pretty rusty.

      Maybe Jake had been right to warn him away from Natalie after all.

      If he wanted to stay, wanted to make this plan of his work, he’d be wise to heed that warning.

      Chapter Two

      “We’re fully staffed. The only bunkhouse with an empty bed in it right now is fourteen.” Natalie talked as she maneuvered the electric golf cart with practiced ease.

      Aaron gritted his teeth and held on to the seat edge as they took yet another sharp turn on an uneven, tree-lined dirt road that was more of a trail than anything else. “Fourteen’s my lucky number.”

      She chuckled. “You say that now.”

      “Why are you laughing?” He took his eyes off the road long enough to cast her a suspicious glance. “What’s wrong with the bunkhouse?”

      “Nothing.” Her grin widened. “It’s your bunkmates.”

      “I’ll manage. I’ve shared quarters with some real winners in the past. It kind of comes with the territory.”

      “Good. You’ll have the necessary experience to draw on.” She turned her wide and, he admitted, dazzling grin on him.

      It was contagious, and Aaron couldn’t resist responding. He was suddenly looking forward to meeting his bunkmates. Life, he realized, had become mundane. Today was the most enjoyment he’d had in he couldn’t remember when.

      Natalie had left her baby back at the lodge in the care of a young teenage girl named Briana. Jake’s oldest and, Aaron supposed, his niece by marriage. She’d heard about him—nothing good, based on the wary once-over she gave him. He liked her anyway because she obviously adored Natalie’s baby and couldn’t wait to swing the infant up in her arms.

      “Here we are.” Natalie brought the golf cart to a stop in front of a simple, yet well-maintained, bunkhouse. It was the third in a sizable row of bunkhouses, all alike except for the angle at which they were tucked into the hill.

      Aaron climbed out of the golf cart and retrieved his duffel bag from the back. He and Natalie had stopped first at the stables before coming here. Aaron checked on his horse, Dollar, and then grabbed his stuff. He traveled light. Another holdover from his former career.

      “A laptop?” Natalie asked, eyeing the black computer case he slung over his shoulder.

      He purposely didn’t tell her why he’d brought it. “Is there a phone line in the bunkhouse?”

      “No. But the ranch has a wireless connection in the main lodge. It’s for the convenience of our guests, but the staff use it, too.”

      “Thanks.”

      She kept staring at the laptop, though she asked no more questions about it. “The dining hall is to the east of the main lodge. The building with the picnic tables out front and the big outdoor fireplace. You have about an hour and a half before dinner.”

      What had been a four-minute golf-cart ride would be a fifteen-minute walk. Aaron checked his watch. He had plenty of time to shower and clean up before meeting his coworkers at dinner. Or, was that employees since he technically owned one-eighth of the ranch?

      Better to come off as a coworker, he decided, if he wished to fit in and make friends with the staff. Aaron had a reason to be here, and it wasn’t to show anyone who was boss. He’d leave that to Jake.

      “See you at dinner,” Natalie said and drove off.

      Something else for Aaron to look forward to, he thought, watching her putt-putt down the road.

      Only after she disappeared from sight did he turn and walk up the steep path to the bunkhouse. At the door, he set down his duffel bag and tried the knob. The hinges squeaked when he opened the unlocked door, announcing his arrival.

      “Anyone home?”

      No one answered so he went inside.

      The bunkhouse was small, yet comfortable. A two-person breakfast bar separated the galley kitchen from the living room. Three rooms led off a short hallway; two bedrooms and a bathroom the size of a large closet. Furniture was sparse. Each bedroom contained a set of twin beds and a single dresser.

      Both rooms were occupied, as evidenced by shoes left in the middle of the floor and toiletries on the dresser tops. Aaron opted to wait and see which bed was available before stowing his things. Taking some clean clothes from his duffel bag, he hit the shower. He met two of his bunkmates when he finished a short time later.

      “Hey,” a guy with a scruffy goatee greeted him from the kitchen. He was wearing a tan shirt and matching pants. “How’s it going?”

      He appeared neither surprised nor annoyed to find a stranger using his bathroom. The same could be said for the guy on the couch, who wore an identical uniform and was stretched out with his feet propped up on a thrift-store-style coffee table, listening to his iPod.

      “Want one?” The guy in the kitchen held up a beer.

      “No, thanks.”

      “Can’t drink alcohol anywhere but inside your bunkhouse,” the guy told Aaron before tipping back his longneck bottle and taking a lengthy pull. “They’re real strict about that. If a guest sees you drinking, you’ll be fired on the spot.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind.” Aaron unzipped his duffel bag and removed a plastic sack. He added dirty clothes to his growing pile. “Is there a laundry around here?”

      “Behind the dining hall.” The guy hitched his chin as if the laundry were right across the road rather than a good mile up it. “By the way, I’m Randy. That there is Skunk.”

      “Skunk?”

      Randy shook his head. “Don’t ask. You’ll just make him mad.”

      If Skunk knew they were talking about him he gave no indication. Head resting on the back of the couch, he listened to his iPod with closed eyes. He might have been napping except for the beer he raised to his lips every other minute like clockwork.

      “I’m Aaron.”

      “Nice to meet you.” Randy toasted him. “Where you from?”

      “Laveen, originally,” he answered, naming the small rural community southeast of Phoenix where he was born and raised. “I’ve been traveling a lot since I graduated high school.”

      “Yeah,

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