Chapter Nine
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“You’re building what?” the General asked.
“A house—a temporary house. For Jo.” Hunter heard the man’s swift intake of breath and knew an explosion was coming. He tried to head it off. “Remember what we talked about? That I should build something for Jo the way Connor did for Sadie? Well, I’m doing it, and I need to know what my budget is.”
“I didn’t mean a house!”
Hunter supposed he should have made this call when he first arrived, but the truth was he’d gotten so caught up in designing the house with Jo he hadn’t thought to check in with her father. Which was dumb; even a tiny house cost money. Quite a bit, in fact, when it was plumbed and wired and completed the way Jo wanted it to be.
“Look, it’s not as bad as you think. I’m building it on a trailer; the women can move it wherever they want. It’ll be a guest cottage.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better? That someone can hitch up my daughter’s house and take off with her while she sleeps? No way. I’m not paying for that. If you haven’t noticed, people keep taking pot shots at my girls. I don’t need Jo living in some kind of portable shed. Considering she’s supposed to be your wife, I’d think you’d have thought about that.”
“Considering she’s supposed to be my wife, maybe I’m planning to sleep there with her,” Hunter retorted.
Which might have been a mistake.
“If you plan to sleep there, too, then you pay for it!” The General cut the call.
Hell.
He should have seen that coming.
Hunter scrubbed his face with his hand, the stubble of his beard scraping against his palm. The General was right, though. If he planned to sleep in it, he should pay for it. Only problem was, Jo didn’t just want a temporary house, she wanted a real one, too, and he’d already promised her he’d build it come spring. He’d saved up a fair amount of cash over the years, but not enough to do both without taking out loans.
He most likely wouldn’t get a loan for a tiny house built on a trailer. He’d have to pay cash for that, and leverage the remainder of his savings for the bigger house. This wasn’t practical at all. The sensible thing would be to wait until spring and build a single house.
Sensible didn’t come into it, though, he supposed.
Jo needed this bridge from living with her sisters to living with a husband, and although he damn well did intend to sleep with her in the tiny house, he also intended to give her the space to make it her own. Everyone needed a chance at independence, even for a few months. He had to give her hers, even if it made for an awkward winter.
Building two houses would leave him strapped for cash. He wasn’t sure how things would work once his position here was permanent. How would they split the income from the ranch? Would they split it at all? Should he be looking for work in town or on another spread?
Too many questions.
He decided to make a call to USSOCOM, needing to talk to someone who understood the position he was in.
Logan answered. “You dumb fuck; you went AWOL?”
His broadside caught Hunter by surprise. “What?”
“Heard it from a friend. What the hell were you running from?”
Jesus. What was he supposed to say? “It’s not what you think—”
“Oh, fuck me. When someone starts with that line, it’s exactly what you think. You going to run again? We’ve all got a lot on the line here.”
“I’m definitely not going to run again.” Not unless Marlon did something truly stupid.
“Never thought I’d be working with a deserter.”
“Yeah? What did you do to get canned?”
Logan’s silence told him everything he needed to know. All of them had messed up big time to end up under the General’s control.
“I didn’t cut and run when things got tough. That’s for sure.” Logan ended the call.
Hunter sat back. This wasn’t good. Last spring, when May had announced to Marlon she wanted a divorce, Marlon had gone off the deep end. May had called Hunter next, screaming she thought Marlon might do himself harm. Hunter, stationed with Marlon at Coronado, would never forget his midnight dash to Marlon’s quarters and the sinking feeling when he found his friend gone. It was obvious what he meant to do. Hunter followed him to the airport, and stopped him from getting on a plane, but couldn’t get him to return to base. Instead they’d compromised on a nearby motel. The next few days were rough. May stuck to her guns even when Marlon called and begged her to change her mind. As time ticked past and Marlon realized she was serious, he’d flipped back and forth between anger and despair, taking his grief to a place so dark, Hunter feared he would lose his friend. Hunter had watched him around the clock, listened to his ravings, bore witness to his tears, talked him back from the brink.
Finally… finally, Marlon had calmed down, pulled himself together and agreed to return to base.
Too late.
They were both AWOL, but Hunter knew his friend wouldn’t make it through a court martial. He knew Marlon needed his job if he was going to lose his family. He’d embraced the SEALs and given them as much as he’d tried to give to May. If he lost both at the same time—
Hunter didn’t want to think what might happen.
So he took the fall himself.
He told the Navy he was the one with the family crisis. He cast Marlon as his savior—the friend who’d come and persuaded him to go back. The Navy bought his story. Decided Marlon deserved a break for going after his friend. Marlon went back to their unit.
Hunter ended up at USSOCOM.
And now here.
He couldn’t tell Logan what had really happened, though. If people knew what Marlon had done, the information would make its way back to the General. People thought women gossiped, but no one beat the military when it came to passing on news.
Marlon hadn’t meant to desert his team. He was a stand-up guy who’d been pushed too far. He deserved a second chance.
Except Marlon wasn’t calling him.
Which meant maybe he wasn’t such a stand-up guy after all.
When Jo let herself into the sheriff’s station, she wasn’t sure with whom to speak. The closest desk was empty. Everyone else seemed busy.
Maybe this was a mistake. After all, nothing had happened—
“Jo? Are you looking for me?”
Cab Johnson strode toward her from the back of the station. Well over six feet tall, broad as a barrel, he was an intimidating man when he wanted to be. He was honest to a fault, though, and had always taken an interest in the safety of the women at Two Willows—to such an extent she had a gut feeling he might be in contact with the General. Which made her relationship with the man complicated. She was far more used to avoiding the law than turning to it. During their teenage years, after their mother died, when she and her sisters had run off the overseers and guardians the General appointed, they’d avoided other people, especially Cab’s father—who’d held the position of sheriff before him. It was hard for her to count Cab as completely on their side.
She nodded. “Yes, do you have a minute?”
“Sure thing.” He ushered her into his office, waved her into a seat and took his own behind a wide desk. The room was nondescript, the furniture ancient and battered. Jo sat down and tried to gather her words.
“Something… strange… just happened.”
“Where?”
She gave him the address for the house she and Megan had gone to prepare for the showing. “It’s up on the ridge in Silver Falls.”
Cab nodded. “I know where it is.”
“Megan Lawrence and I went to give it a bit of a cleaning. She was supposed to show it to a potential buyer tomorrow and the place was a mess. She asked if I’d help out.”
“What happened?”
She liked the way he cut to the chase; no beating around the bush for Cab. “The potential buyer showed up early. He was… weird.”
Cab leaned forward. “Want to elaborate?”
“He was trying to intimidate us. Me. His name’s Ramsey.”
“First or last?”
“Last. I don’t know his first name.” She hadn’t thought to ask Megan, either. “I’d met him once before—in the feed store. I didn’t like the way he acted then, either.”
“Why do you think he wanted to intimidate you?”
“I don’t know. But… I didn’t like it. He… asked me on a date.” When a smile flitted over Cab’s face, Jo felt her cheeks grow warm. “I’m not being silly!”
“I’m sorry.” He actually looked contrite. “Jo, you’re a beautiful young woman. And I’m not saying that to discount your hunch. If you felt something was off, then something was off. But you’re going to get attention. You know that, right?”
Jo swallowed. No, she didn’t know that. Compared to Alice—or even Cass—she wasn’t beautiful at all. Cute, maybe. That was about the extent of it.
“Maybe I am being silly.” So much for her resolve to follow her gut. What did she know? She was a lousy judge of men.
“No. Definitely not.” Cab tapped a finger on the table. “You know, this is the first time one of you Reed women has ever asked for help.”
Jo reared back. “Great, so I’m dumb, and a big baby.” She half rose from her seat. Cab waved her down.
“That doesn’t make you a baby; it makes you an adult. You don’t see yourself, Jo. You’re a hell of a woman, and I don’t say that lightly. You saved your sisters’ lives. If the chips were down, I’d want you on my side in a heartbeat.”
Jo didn’t know why tears stung her eyes at his words. He’d said something nice. It should make her happy.
But it was so… strange… to hear praise from a man. Two men, in such a short time—Hunter had praised her, too.
Jo sat down again. “So what do I do? I don’t know this guy, but if he’s moving to town, I’m going to see him again. He barely spent a minute in the house before saying he didn’t want it. He said he wanted a ranch. It felt… it felt like a threat.”
“Tell you what; let’s get you home. I’ll follow you in my cruiser to keep watch.”
“You think he’d follow me?”
“He might.” He met Jo’s gaze. She knew what he was thinking; these strangers could be involved in the drug ring that had attacked her family twice.
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. For doing the right thing.”
Hunter was coming up from the barns when Jo’s truck pulled in, followed by a sheriff’s cruiser. He increased his pace.
“Jo? Everything all right?”
“I’m fine.” She waited for a large man in a sheriff’s uniform to exit the cruiser, and together they came to meet Hunter. “Hunter, this is Cab Johnson, the county sheriff. Cab, this is Hunter Powell. The General sent him to give us a hand.”
Cab looked him over. “Good to meet you.” He stuck out a hand and gave Hunter a firm enough handshake to establish he felt he was in charge. That didn’t bother Hunter. The man should feel responsible for his jurisdiction.
“Good to meet you, too. Did something happen?”
Jo filled him in about the house on the ridge and the man who’d arrived without warning.
“I didn’t like the way he was acting, so I went and told Cab.”
“And I told her I appreciate the head’s up. People down here at Two Willows have a way of taking things into their own hands, which can be dangerous. I’m going to keep an eye out for that man,” he told Jo, “and you call me if you see him, you hear me?”
“Will do, Sheriff.”
“Did Jo tell you about Bright Star?” Hunter asked. When Cab shook his head no, Hunter told him all about the buckshot incident. “I’ll keep my eyes open, too,” Hunter finished. He didn’t like the sound of that encounter at all. He hated the thought of a man playing games with his Jo.
“How about a lemonade, Cab?” Jo asked.
“Wouldn’t mind one. Can’t stay long, though.”
“Come inside and I’ll get it in a jiffy.”
Hunter was about to follow them when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He hung back, although he wanted to get more of the story. “Powell here,” he said when he’d accepted the call.
“It’s Mark from the lumberyard. I’ve pulled together that order you placed earlier, but I’m coming up with a bigger number than I quoted you before and I wanted to check in and make sure it’s okay. You can come in and pick it up any time.” He named a sum for the supplies that made Hunter wince. Jo deserved her house, and he’d make sure she got it one way or the other, but he had to stick to a tight budget for this one or he wouldn’t be able to afford the one he wanted to build her in the spring.
“What do you think?” Mark asked. “Want to go forward?”
“Yeah, I guess. With a couple of changes.” He didn’t have a choice. He’d have to substitute cheaper materials for some of the higher end finishes in the interior. “I’ll pop into town in about an hour, okay?”
“Got it.”
Was he being a fool? Hunter wondered. Maybe he’d bitten off far more than he could chew. If the expenses for this little house were coming in over budget, what would it be like when he built the bigger one? He hadn’t looked into zoning or costs for the real house he meant to build in the spring.
What if he couldn’t afford it?
He was still ruminating about the matter when Cab came out of the house again. “Everything all right?” the man asked when he reached Hunter.
“Yeah. Just thinking about money.”
Cab guffawed. “That’ll make anyone look constipated. Cheer up; there’s a pretty girl inside that kitchen. I trust you know what you’re doing around pretty girls?”
“I have an idea.”
“Figured you would since the General sent you.”
He was off before Hunter could ask him what he meant, but he supposed it didn’t take a genius to see that when the General sent a man, that man married one of his daughters.
“Hunter?” Jo leaned out of the kitchen door. “Want some lemonade?” Her face was illuminated by the sunshine, and something stirred deep inside him—an urge to protect her.
To love her.
He slid his phone into his pocket and joined Jo inside.
It was close to dinnertime when Hunter returned from town. Jo went to meet him happily; he was supposed to bring the materials for her house and she couldn’t wait to get started on building it. It was September already, and at night there was definitely a nip in the air that hadn’t been there just a couple of weeks earlier. By mid-October the rains would come—and then the snow. She wanted her home done and ready to house her through the long winter.
Hunter was quiet as they began to unload the truck, like he’d been earlier in the day before he’d left on the errand. She hoped he hadn’t changed his mind about building the house—or about her, but when she asked him what was wrong, he just shook his head.
Jo focused on hauling lumber over near to where they’d braced the trailer, assuming he’d talk to her when he was ready. She worked with Hunter to carry the sheets of plywood he’d gotten, too.
“What’s this?” she asked when she came to a roll of vinyl.
Hunter sighed. “That’s your backsplash.” He didn’t quite meet her eyes as he leaned in to lift it out.
“My backsplash? What happened to the tile?” She didn’t want a vinyl backsplash. She wanted something that would stand up to the test of time.
“It cost too much.”
Jo frowned, not understanding. Her father had told him to come build her whatever she wanted. As far as she knew that meant she got to build it however she wanted, too. “What gives you the right to determine that?”
He didn’t answer.
“Hunter? What gives you the right—?”
“Your father put me in charge, and I’ve got a budget. I can’t go over it. So that’s your backsplash. End of story.”
Why was he snapping at her? It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t known they had a budget. And why should they? This ranch was worth a lot of money, and the cattle operation turned a tidy profit—or at least it had before the last overseer had screwed it up. She had worked this spread since she could walk, devoted countless hours to it. She and Lena were already building those profits back up, with Brian’s help—and Connor’s when he got back from his honeymoon. If she wanted a tiny house, she was owed a tiny house—with a tile backsplash.
“Fine. I’ll buy my own tile.” Not that she had a ton of discretionary cash; just the proceeds from her dog breeding enterprise, which she tried not to dip into. She didn’t receive a salary, per se, just drew on the household income, like they all did for whatever they needed. Over the years that hadn’t been much more than the clothing on her back, the cost of her first McNab breeding pair, her secondhand truck and some take-out food now and then. It pissed her off that she had to shell out for the backsplash now. She took the vinyl from his hands and set it aside.
Hunter picked it up again and put it with the other materials. “Look, it’s already cut to size; we can’t take it back. It would be a waste of money to buy tile.”
He was calling her wasteful? He was the one who’d bought the vinyl without asking. The tiles she’d chosen had been almost elegant. An interesting counterpoint to the knotty-pine walls and rough-hewn contours of the little house.
She wanted them.
And Hunter hadn’t even consulted her before changing the plan.
“I just said I’ll buy them, so you don’t need to worry about the cost.” She picked up the vinyl.
“But that means the money I spent already will go to waste.” He reached for it, and Jo had to keep herself from bludgeoning him with it. Instead, she set it carefully aside, determined to try to sell it to someone else. She turned to inform Hunter of her decision—
And stopped in her tracks when she noticed what else was in the truck.
“What is that?” Her voice slid up an octave and she fought for control. “What is that?”
“Laminate. For the floors.”
“Where’s my hardwood?” Fury had her fingers balled into fists. She didn’t want laminate. She wanted a beautiful hardwood floor. It was a small house—hardly expensive at all.
“The budget—”
“To hell with the budget. And to hell with you.” If he’d consulted her, they could have worked together to figure out what to trim and what to keep to match the number the General wanted to spend. Instead, he’d made his own choices.
The wrong choices.
“Jo—”
“Build it any way you want. I’m not going to live in it!” She strode past him into the house and slammed the door behind her.