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My words seem to jar her from her own internal struggle. She doesn’t say anything, just nods like she’s afraid to say yes.
“Let me drop off this bag, and then we’ll see what Cookie has leftover. It might not be much, but…”
She gives a weak smile, barely hiding that vulnerable look I’ve been catching from time to time. She opens her mouth to say something but looks away like she’s thought better of it.
My boots thump on the stairs. I scrape them twice against the mat to be sure they’re clean enough. Sunny follows suit, copying my every move. At first glance, she appears confident, almost arrogant, but then watching her, she’s terrified. But of what, I don’t know.
I hold the screen door open for her. She takes it and makes sure it doesn’t bang on her way in. I pause, waiting for her to catch up. We could walk straight and end up in the kitchen. My stomach grumbles at the smell of Cookie’s dinner, whatever it was, but I don’t want to put this next part off too long. If I thought I got an earful from my parents, this pending upset might dwarf it.
From the bottom of the staircase, I yell, “Lady in the house, get yourselves decent, boys!”
I give them three seconds to register what I said, and then the thumping and running begins. I’m sure they think it’s Mom. She occasionally checks the condition of the bunkhouse, insisting that it stay clean and well-kept. A late inspection like this wouldn’t be the normal, but it wouldn’t be that unusual either. I glance at my companion, catching her chewing on her bottom lip to quell her nerves. “Ready or not,” I call up the stairs before I lead the way.
Sunny stays close as we climb into the heart of the bunkhouse, the bunkroom. Built from real logs downed by my Dad’s grandfather, it feels like walking back in time. But Mom insisted it look modern, and she’s certainly added her flair to the place. Rustic artwork, horseshoe sculptures, furniture built from the same logs that make up the walls of the bunkhouse, my adoptive great-grandfather may have built it, but Mom made it a home for the men who have worked at Sea Star Ranch.
As I take the last of the stairs, I know my instincts were right. Every member of our staff is standing at attention next to his bunk. It’s almost comical to watch their expressions when Sunny enters the room instead of my mom.
“Woah,” Silas, the youngest wrangler, stares with no sense of decorum. “That’s not Mrs. Clara.”
“No,” I smile, resisting a stupid urge to slip my arm around Sunny, “it’s not. And this isn’t an inspection either.” A few relieved groans work through the lot of them. “I’m letting you know about some changes to the staff.”
Ferrel raises a hand. “Rhett, you firin’ people?”
“No.” I’m glad that’s not the reality, but I find myself dragging my feet at what I need to tell them. “Hiring actually. I want you all to meet Sunny. She’ll be our new groom.”
Seven men on staff, and it’s amazing how fast they speak without saying a single word. Worried glances cut around the bunk room, but it’s Houston who voices the concern. “A woman? Where’s she sleeping? The main house?”
“Here.” I slip the strap from my bag over my head. “And I’m following suit.” I nod to the empty bunks on the back wall. “Hope y’all don’t mind some company.”
From the looks they’re sharing; the woman may be the least of their worries. Splitting their living space with the guy training to be the boss, it’s not real ideal either. I want to ask if it’s okay, double check that I’m not intruding on their space, but that’s stupid. I’m their boss. I’m in charge. If I wanted to, I could kick anyone of them out of their beds. They should feel lucky that I’m commandeering two empty bunks away from the rest of them. Without waiting another second, I nod my head toward the back wall and Sunny falls in step behind me.
I set my bag on the floorboards, assessing the situation. In the ranch house, I have a premium mattress, even six years old it’s still a dream to sleep on. The bunk beds aren’t much more than a pad and a bedroll. No wonder Dad encouraged me to take a shot out here. He’s likely hoping I realize how spoiled I’ve become. Joke’s on him. Considering some of the places I’ve slept, this isn’t bad.
“You want top or bottom?”
Her question throws me for a second until I realize she’s pointing at the beds.
“Bottom bunk,” I say. I’d prefer the top, but I like knowing she’s up high. It makes her safer somehow.
Sunny sets her borrowed clothes on the bunk and moves like she might climb up. Her stomach growls loud enough that Flint two bunks away casts us a worried look. Sunny sets her feet on the floor again, pressing a hand over her belly. Her stomach growls again, but her face twists in pain.
“Let’s go to the kitchen—”
“No.” Sunny cuts me off, her eyes anywhere but looking at me. Embarrassment colors her cheeks. “I’ll be fine. I’ll wait for breakfast like everyone else. We can just go to sleep.”
Turning away from her, I see the source of her embarrassment. They’re all watching. All judging. All trying to learn her secrets.
Needing to rescue her again, I shift to my best frustrated employer voice. “I know you’re tired, Sunny, but paperwork has to be done tonight. It’s all downstairs. You fill it out, and you can get some sleep after that.” She starts to protest, but I interrupt her. “It’s not up for discussion. Come on.”
Chapter 3
Sunny
I
I don’t know what don’t know what they’re thinking, but I know it’s not good. What kind of girl manages to snag a job like this? Manages to convince the boss’s son to move out to the bunkhouse with her? Manages to get everything on a silver platter…
Climbing up into bed and hiding my hunger until morning looked like the best way to save face, but my stomach gave me away. It was the smell of food on the way in that did me in. I couldn’t help it. The hunger pains are nearly doubling me over at this point. I’ve never had to go hungry in my life. I didn’t know it could be this painful. Rhett saw it all, even my embarrassment, and his macho display gave me an out to follow him downstairs. The act fades as soon as the rest of his team is out of sight. Reaching the bottom floor, he leads the way down a short hallway that empties into an open kitchen, complete with an attached dining room boasting the most enormous table I’ve ever seen.
