Husband Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire #1)(14)

“Well, you were stubborn and asking for it.”

She would’ve been offended if it weren’t for the teasing edge in his tone. She set the squawking, scratching box down with an unintentional thud.

“I’ll get the rest of them,” Ian murmured. “You go fill their water dispenser.”

“Okay.” Her voice sounded dreamy and strange to her own ears, as if it belonged to someone else.

She wasn’t used to being bossed around, and it should’ve rankled her, but by his worried tone, she got the distinct feeling Ian was asking her to do the easy job. She wasn’t making a good impression on him. She was much tougher than she looked and had made it through much bigger than a little engagement shock.

The coop was tall enough for her to stand to her full height. It was lined with nesting boxes along one wall with roosting polls, and there was a small door at the bottom of the opposite wall that allowed the chickens into the outdoor pen when it was open. It seemed she had cleaned this place just in time.

Elyse hauled water from the pump with a pair of buckets that sloshed against her legs with each step and filled the two water dispensers while Ian hauled another three boxes of chickens into the coop. Then he filled the grain storage box with bags of chicken feed while Elyse opened the cardboard lids and set the poultry free. They were all different colors. Browns, reds, and black with white speckles and oh, they would make a lovely array of colored eggs for them to eat. They were mostly grown but still young chickens, and she laughed as the last box revealed four adolescent turkeys that were just getting their adult feathers in.

When she turned, Ian was staring at her lips with the most peculiar look on his face. Another wave of heat burned her cheeks, so she busied herself with breaking down the boxes to save for later use. Nothing went to waste around here.

With the chickens, turkeys, and one mean-ass rooster fed and settled, Elyse turned to offer Ian help with unloading his belongings, but the man had vanished like a ghost. And when she peeked outside the coop, he was backing his snow machine off the trailer and onto a ramp as though he’d done it a million times. Then he turned it for the barn and disappeared through the open sliding doors.

Okay then. Elyse meandered to his truck, pulled open the back door, and guffawed at what he’d brought. There were a couple of trash bags of what must be clothes, sure, but most of his belongings seemed to be old, second-hand tools. Limb cutters, a chainsaw, an ax, and a giant silver metal box of what was probably wrenches and the like, along with a tackle box and a pair of fishing poles.

When Cole had moved in last year, he’d brought a duffle bag with him. That was it.

Pleasure unfurled in her stomach as she enjoyed the difference of this time with Ian. He was bringing his get-shit-done belongings, as well as clothes. She could already imagine his ax near the chopping block and his tools in the barn. He was about to imprint himself into this place as surely as his ring was imprinting itself onto her finger.

With an emotional smile, she pulled the hard case of his chainsaw out of the back and hefted it toward the barn. Wait, what if he got mad at her for touching his stuff? Did men get possessive of their tools? Uncle Jim hadn’t, and she’d never seen Cole lift a hand to help so he wasn’t any indicator on normal male behavior. Josiah hadn’t ever minded her touching his stuff, but he was her brother and the patient sort. Maybe she should rush back and put this where she found it.

Ian strode from the barn and nodded to her. The corner of his lip lifted, and he said, “Thank you,” as he took the burden from her hands.

As he sauntered off, Elyse froze there with her empty palms out, then turned and went back for another load. And when the tools were all in the barn and she’d settled the ax blade into the chopping block, she rushed inside to do a speed clean while Ian was still busy in the barn. At least she’d found the energy to wash the dishes this morning, but she hadn’t set foot in the guest bedroom in months. She dusted the dresser, swept the rustic wooden floors, and then replaced the bedding with fresh linens. After angling and re-angling the rocking chair in the corner just so, she turned and let off a yelp as Ian stood right behind her with a quirk to his lips.

Her heart threatened to leap from behind her breastbone. How was a man so big and powerful so silent when he wanted to be? He stepped around her, so close she could smell his piney, masculine scent and feel warmth radiating off his skin.

Ian set his trash bag luggage on the bed. “This’ll do. I’ll unpack later, but I think you should eat.”

She thought about her now empty freezer, and shame, not shyness, heated her cheeks.

Ian narrowed his eyes and cocked his head suspiciously at her hesitation, then turned and strode out of the house, his heavy boots echoing against the floors. The creaking of the freezer sounded a moment later, and a muttered curse directly followed. And now Ian was back in the mouth of the room, his lips pursed in a thin, angry line. “Woman, what did you plan on eating today if I hadn’t a shown up?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, stalling and debating whether to lie or not.

“The truth,” he demanded, as if he could read her mind.

“I picked some carrots.”

“Carrots?” The volume of his voice made her hunch her shoulders to her ears. “Why haven’t you been hunting and fishing?”

Anger snapped through her like a rubber band popped against her skin. “If you must know, I have been hunting and fishing, but I’m pretty shitty at it, so I haven’t got anything. Yet. And when I’m not out in the woods failing epically at hunting, I’m racing daylight running this place. None of this has been easy on me, you judgmental beast.”