Harlequin Western Romance August 2017 Box Set by Linda Warren Rebecca Winters Patricia Johns & April Arrington

Author:Linda Warren, Rebecca Winters, Patricia Johns & April Arrington
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488014192
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Published: 2017-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

Hank led the way to Avery’s room, located at the far end of the bunkhouse. The building was empty, their footsteps echoing, and Avery could only assume that was because the other employees were working at this hour. The hallways smelled male—like socks and stale cigarettes.

Avery stood back as Hank unlocked a door at the end of the hallway and swung it open. He held out the key, and when she took it, her fingers brushed over his calloused fingertips. There wasn’t much room in the doorway, and as she moved past him, she could feel his body heat.

“This is where you’ll sleep,” he said. “You have your own bathroom through there.”

Avery glanced around. There was a bed topped with a patchwork quilt, an outdated dresser, a wobbly wardrobe and a small but private bathroom with a tub large enough to actually take a bath. Thanks to a cracked-open window, her room smelled fresh and clean. When she peeked outside, she had a magnificent view of pasture and the main barn. That was something. And if she counted the blessing that she wouldn’t have to share facilities like the ranch hands did, she couldn’t complain. Even settling in wouldn’t be difficult. Her suitcase was in the trunk of her car, so that would be easy enough. But as she stood in the center of the room, a giggle bubbled up inside her.

If her mother were still living, she’d find this hilarious, too. Well, maybe not the fact that Avery was in Hope, looking for details about her mother’s past… Winona wouldn’t have liked that at all. But the outrageousness of being hired as a ranch cook—that would have tickled her funny bone. Winona used to tell her, Men expect a pretty girl to be able to cook. And you’re pretty, sweetheart. So you’d better learn how to cook, or learn how to let ’em down easy. Avery hadn’t learned.

Winona Southerly was a strong woman with her own idea of how things should be. She raised Avery to go to church every week, rain or shine. Winona’s Wilderness, the flower shop her mother opened when Avery was in the second grade, had been closed Sunday mornings, opening at 2:00 p.m. No exceptions. She’d been strict that way. When Avery complained that she didn’t want to go to Sunday school, her mother would retort, So the store is closed for nothing then? I’m losing business as we speak. We’re going to church. You could use a few positive influences, my girl. And heaven help them if they were late. But she’d had a sense of humor, too. Every time she lost something—a pair of scissors, an umbrella—she declared it had been raptured and the Lord needed it more than I did, I suppose. Church people never knew exactly how seriously to take her on that—whether she needed a theological tune-up, or if they should just laugh along. She liked pushing the envelope, keeping people guessing. Those were the memories that made Avery’s heart ache with loneliness.

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