His huge back muscles tensed through his shirt. “That ain’t right.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “So if you could hang around, give me time to figure out what to do, and make sure he can’t stir up any trouble, that would be great.”
Beck chuckled darkly, turning around as he toweled off the plate. “Sweetheart, I usually cause trouble, but in this case, I’ll do my best to prevent it.”
He could cause trouble all right, in her heart if she wasn’t careful. And as far as being able to prevent it, she wasn’t worried about that either. He’d proved himself with the Copperheads.
“So I have a guest room if you’d like. The bed might be a bit small, but it’s clean.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I’d rather camp out on the edge of your property. I do better when I’m outside.”
She waited for him to explain, but after realizing that he wasn’t going to, she sighed inwardly. Knowing him, she had about as much chance of convincing him to stay in the guest room as she did of moving a mountain. She was probably lucky that he had even changed his mind enough to help her.
“All right then, if you insist. But if you do need to come inside, just knock.”
There was a twinkle in his eyes. “Will do, ma’am.”
As they passed Lasso’s bed on the way out, the dog got up and sniffed Beck’s hand curiously, and Sierra could have sworn she’d seen a hint of a smile on the surly man’s face as he stopped to let the dog smell him.
She saw him out the rest of the way, watching from the door as he trooped quietly out to the tree line where he had presumably set up camp.
As she was going about getting ready for bed that night, she stopped at her bedroom window, which faced out to the front of her property.
From here, she could see his big white truck next to a small tent. A small lantern hung from the tent’s front post, illuminating his cozy camping area.
She smiled at the image. It was oddly nice that he was here. It was probably just because now that he was, she didn’t have to worry so much about Ross or the Copperheads anymore.
Sierra was safe, and it had been a long time since she’d felt that way. Even more bizarre was the fact that it was because of the intimidating man whose life she’d saved only a short while ago.
7
Beck awoke the next morning having slept better than he had in a long time. It was especially odd because he was sleeping in a tent and not in his bed back at Dragonclaw.
Once he was dressed, he pulled back the flap of his tent and stepped out into the morning air. It was a beautiful day. Dew sat on the grass and bushes in the meadow, and a cloudless blue sky loomed over the homestead.
Even more beautiful was the figure walking toward him, carrying a basket in one hand.
Sierra. Wearing work jeans that outlined her luscious curves, boots, and a nice light-blue jacket that made her eyes shine like bright-blue sapphires.
“I brought you breakfast,” she said, holding up the basket. “I thought we could eat together in the meadow. Least I can do while you’re here is return the favor of feeding you.”
He took a whiff of the air, smelling delicious eggs, bacon, and muffins. Beck didn’t usually let other people cook for him, but this time he would make an exception.
“All right,” he said.
Together they walked through the meadow just off to the side of the house. Once they found a quiet, sunny spot, she sat down and began to pull plates and other utensils from her basket.
Beck sat down next to her. Close enough to be near her but not so close that he was touching her, although he had to admit he wanted to.
“This is a small piece of land, but it’s really beautiful,” he said, taking off his hat.
Sierra nodded fondly, handing him a plate of food. “Yes, it was tended with love by my grandparents and their grandparents before them.” She shook her head, the breeze tousling her soft, sandy hair. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep up since Ross ran off any help I could’ve had.”
Beck scowled. This Ross guy sounded like an absolute bastard. Not only had he threatened her, but he had also made it so she couldn’t properly care for her family’s farm.
And her farm was obviously everything to her. Why else would she ask a monster like Beck for help?
“Well,” he said gruffly. “I seem to know a man who owes you a favor.”
She laughed. “Um, I seem to know a man who already paid me back.”
“No, I didn’t! Beating those assholes was a favor to myself. I hate assholes. It doesn’t count,” Beck muttered, picking up a piece of bacon and taking a bite.
“What about the fact that you’re guarding my property?” Sierra asked. “That’s enough already.”
He snorted. “I ain’t guarding it if I let it go to hell. After we eat, I’ll go take a look at the place, and I will fix whatever I see that’s broken. Don’t try to stop me.”
Damn, last night, he’d told himself that he was just going to camp outside her property and watch out for her. Now he was having breakfast with her and talking about fixing up the place.
But he was curious about this strong, beautiful woman who had managed for as long as she had on her own.
“But before that,” he added, “I want to hear more about your ranch and how you came to be alone.”
Sierra, who had been blushing, shrugged. “Not much to say. Generations of my family have lived here. I lived with my grandparents until they passed away several years ago.”
“Parents?”
“Moved into the city. Never got along with them, so I came out to live with Grandma and Grandpa,” she said. “They taught me everything I know.”
“That was kind of them,” Beck said, nodding. “I’m sure they’re proud of you.”
She laughed, but there was a sad edge to her voice. “I’d like to think so. There are some days that I really miss them. I wouldn’t want them to see the farm as it is now.”
Beck looked around. He had to admit that while the land was beautiful, the farm itself was dilapidated. Most everything was in need of repair or a fresh coat of paint. The good news was that he didn’t see anything he couldn’t fix.
“Well then,” he said, setting his empty plate aside and putting on his hat as he stood up. “I’ll get it fixed up real nice.”
“You don’t have to. That’ll be a lot of work,” Sierra said, putting everything away.
“I already told you,” he said with a grunt, tipping his hat. “You’re not stopping me. Not much can.” He smiled. “Thanks for breakfast.”
And with that, he left her in the meadow to go to work.
Sierra watched as Beck made his way over to the porch at the end of the day. The sun was setting low over the sky, sending rays of red and orange burning across the horizon.
All day, she’d been watching Beck from the window in awe of how much he could get done. He could do the work of ten men twice as fast as they could.
Fences were mended. Weeds were pulled. Trees were trimmed. Pens were fixed. The homestead looked better than it had in a long time, and it was all thanks to him.