While only a couple seconds had passed, she felt as if she’d been ogling him for ten minutes, and when she looked back up to into his face, her breath didn’t just whoosh from her lungs this time. It vanished. Hazel eyes stared intently at her. That wasn’t what stole her breath, though. The slight and eerie glow they were giving off is what froze her in place. His sharp jawline was covered in dark stubble, and he looked as lethal as any predator she’d ever seen.
But just as quickly as fear slithered into her veins, it disappeared with as much speed as it had entered. Why was she sure that Galen would never hurt her? Was she being a naive fool? For all she knew, he could be lying to her. He could be running from the law. He could be dangerous. She stared back at him, deep into those alluring pools of silver. He was definitely dangerous. But not to her. Not to Patrick.
Fool. You always were too trusting. Don’t let a pretty face cloud your judgment.
One of his dark brows slowly rose as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Should I not have given them hay?”
His voice shook her from her thoughts.
“I’m sorry. I was a little, um, sidetracked. Forgive me.”
Damn. Sidetracked? She wanted to facepalm herself. While she was sure he’d noticed her drooling over him, she didn’t need to go and point it out. It was one of those moments when she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
“Thank you for giving them hay.”
“I watered them as well. If you want to show me how much grain they get, I can take care of that too.”
She began to tremble. His nearness, his voice, even his scent had too much of an effect on her for someone she’d met only hours before.
“Grain is over here.”
He followed her to a row of metal trash bins that she stored the grain in. She popped off the first lid and fished out the empty three-pound coffee can, then picked up the black five-gallon bucket sitting on the floor. She tried hard to ignore the closeness of his big body, the heat emanating from him, and the urge to rub against him and purr.
“I usually fill the bucket with grain. You only have to make three trips that way. Make sure to put the lids back on the cans tightly. It helps to keep the rodents away.”
Once she filled the bucket, he reached for it. His hand brushed hers, and the warmth of his touch poured over her and absorbed into her skin like thick molasses.
She showed him how much grain to give each horse, told him their names, and smiled when he gave each one of them a rub on the neck after pouring the grain in the feeder.
“Do you know how to halter and lead a horse?”
“It’s been a long time, but I’ve done it before.” He nodded.
“All of them are easy to handle. The only one you have to watch out for is Dusty. When you let him loose, stand clear because he likes to turn and kick his heels up a bit when freed. He’s not trying to kick you, it’s just his weird way of thanking you for turning him loose.”
“No problem. I’m sure we will all get along fine. I like animals. Do you have a dog?”
“No. I’ve thought about getting one, but so much has happened the past few months, there hasn’t been time.”
“Maybe I can help find you one while I’m here. If you wouldn’t mind, that is. A dog could provide extra protection.”
Galen reached for the shirt hanging on a nail from one of the support posts. The shirt had been hung so high up, Myka hadn’t noticed it until he reached for it.
“It’s perfectly safe out here. I’ve lived here several years.”
“I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t. I only meant since you and Patrick are alone out here, it might be a good idea.”
She watched him pull the shirt over his head and tug it down. It fit him snugly, and she could see the outline of his ripped form. He was right about the dog. Maybe she’d have to find time to look for one soon.
“How was your first night?”
“Peaceful. I understand why you like it here,” he answered.
“You were comfortable then?”
“Yes.”
“If you ever need anything, let me know.”
She eyed him again, letting her mind wander freely to all kinds of wicked thoughts of what she’d be willing to give him if he asked. Son of a bitch. She had to cut out the teenage high school crush crap. She wasn’t the type of woman to have flings, and she was sure Galen was only passing through. One day, probably sooner than later, she’d wake up and he’d be gone from her life forever. He was not for her. Besides, she didn’t have time for a relationship.
His gaze rested on her, and she swore she could feel her skin warm under his stare.
“I’m going to go get breakfast going. Should be ready in about twenty minutes if you want to come on over. Tom should be here shortly after. I’m not sure how long the rain will hold off, and unloading hay when it’s dry out is bad enough.”
She turned away from his burning gaze and started for the barn door, feeling the warm sear of his eyes on her the entire walk back to the house.
It was shocking what only six months on the run could show you about how much the little things in life meant. A soft pillow to rest your head on each night. The smell of clean clothes. Standing in the open, soaking up the sunlight, with no fear of someone hunting you. Not being suspicious of everyone you came into contact with. The smell of good cooking, and a full stomach.
Breakfast had been delicious. Myka was a wonderful cook. Under different circumstances, Galen could easily see himself settling down right here with her and Patrick. Anger suddenly tore through the rare peace he was experiencing. Maybe it was time to stand up to the ones chasing him. He had no doubt it would end in bloodshed and possibly death. He didn’t want to hurt any of his kind, but he was tired of running. His own species was keeping him from his mate.
His skin tingled as he made his way to the barn. The wolf snarled to break through the surface. No! Not now, my friend. Behave, and tonight we will go for a long run. Just as his wolf reluctantly complied and backed off, a semi with a flatbed trailer stacked high with hay came into view on the rock-and-dirt drive.
Yes. Later he would reward his wolf with a run for the hard work he was about to do. He needed to memorize the layout of the place anyway. If he was going to protect Myka and Patrick while he was here, he had to learn every nook and cranny of the farm and the surrounding forest.
Twenty minutes later, Tom was parked as close to the barn as possible, and Galen was throwing bales off the truck inside to the man. He liked Tom. He had an easy smile and seemed genuine, open, and kind when talking about Myka and Patrick. The older man was sharp as a tack, and Galen hadn’t missed the gleam of suspicion in his eyes upon their meeting. Galen liked that about him as well. It showed him that Tom cared about Myka and the boy.
The sky had decided to open up and let loose just as Galen had thrown the second bale inside. He knew it was inevitable. He’d been able to smell the impending rain grow stronger by the minute. He’d always enjoyed the clean, heavy scent of the air before a storm. By the time he reached for the tenth bale, he was soaked clean through to the skin. He didn’t mind in the least, and his naturally warmer body temperature kept him from getting chilled. Steam rose steadily from his hot skin as the cool rain hit him.
He hoped Myka would stay put inside and let him and Tom take care of the hay. Galen was aware that the old man couldn’t keep pace with him, and Galen would ultimately end up not only throwing most of the hay off the trailer, but stacking it in the barn too. He didn’t mind. The work felt good on his muscles. He’d always enjoyed physical labor. Unfortunately, ten minutes later, Myka was up on the trailer beside him.