Husband Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire #1)(44)

But when she pulled the puppy away from the horse-crap snack he was partaking in, she really looked at the homestead around her, and it became impossible to rush away from such a profound moment. Her brother and fiancé were talking low, the homestead was clean, the garden tidy and producing, and the hay was building up by the trailer-load. The woodpile was stacked high all along the side of the cabin and, in the distant barn, Momma Goat screamed her contentment. Sure, Miki’s breath smelled like the south end of a northbound horse, but he wasn’t nipping her anymore, and he stuck like glue to her and Ian wherever they went. And off in the field behind the cabin, she had kind neighbors who were helping out.

Elyse smiled at how far her life had come in such a short amount of time. It was because of Ian that she wasn’t struggling and panicking right now, a mere month before the first snowfall would blanket this place in white.

Ian smiled at her as if he could tell she was thinking mushy thoughts about him, and she melted under his appreciative gaze.

Not even the chill or the threat of winter could dampen a moment like this.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was bone-deep, canyon-wide, ardently, and utterly happy.





Chapter Sixteen


Elyse gave Joanna a tight hug and waved to her husband as he drove the tractor back toward their own property.

“I’ll bring the cow next week if that’s all right.”

Joanna smiled kindly and dipped her head. “That would be much appreciated. You have a good night now.”

Elyse grinned up at Joanna as she climbed into the tractor with the baler on the back. “I think I’m going to sleep like a log tonight.”

“It was a long day, but a good day. You keep those boys in line.”

With a snort, she waved Joanna off. Elyse had as much a chance of keeping a grizzly-shifter and her half-wild brother in line as she did of controlling the Alaskan weather.

Her muscles had cooled as she’d said her farewells to the Fairways, so she zipped her jacket up to her chin and strode toward where Josiah and Ian were loading the last few bales into the trailer. “I will shamelessly bribe you to fix my hay storage,” she said through a grin.

Ian gave her a grin and asked, “Bribe how?”

“Uncle Jim had this recipe for rabbit stew—”

“Sold,” Josiah said, hoisting another bale. “I’m in. Dinner invitation accepted.”

Ian let off a single booming laugh as he adjusted the stacked hay. “Well, get on then, woman. Josiah and I will be in later.”

With a giggle, Elyse jumped into his arms and planted tiny pecking kisses on his cheeks until he chuckled warmly and hugged her waist.

“Bossy,” she teased.

Ian’s blue eyes sparked in the dim evening light as he leaned in and kissed her soundly. He set her on her feet and gave her backside a swat as she trotted away. And as she left the men in her life behind to bring in the rest of the hay, over Miki’s puppy barks, she could’ve sworn she heard Josiah laugh low. And damn, it felt good to hear that. He’d always been a quiet man, more observer than participant in silly antics, but today, she’d seen him smile more than she could ever remember. Perhaps he’d been as lonely as her trying to make a life out here, or perhaps his worry over her had been heavier than she’d realized. And maybe, just maybe, Ian being here was good for Josiah, too.

Behind the cabin, the sunset painted the sky in vivid shades of pink and orange. Today had been one of those days that felt like summer. Not because it was warm. On the contrary, there was a nip in the air. But when she was a child, she’d looked forward to summers at the homestead all year long. The months in school would drag on and on, and the closer to summer it became, the more she was filled with the glowing feeling that soon she would be in the place she belonged. This place was magic. Here, mom’s yelling and frustration with her and Josiah didn’t exist. Uncle Jim was a patient sort of man, and Marta treated her and Jo like they were her own kids. It wasn’t the impatient love that Mom forced herself to feel for them. Marta and Uncle Jim seemed to always have a smile when they watched them. The unforced kind that said they were really enjoying spending time with her and Josiah.

After Marta died, and then Uncle Jim, this place hadn’t felt the same. It wasn’t a retreat anymore, but instead a responsibility. But today had felt different. It felt like the old homestead again.

Miki bounced up the stairs behind her and into the cabin. She didn’t run the generator unless she needed it, so she turned on the lanterns instead and built a fire in the stove with the pile of wood and tinder and newspapers Ian kept stocked by the door as a habit. She’d left the rabbit out to thaw when she’d made lunch, so she discarded the head and feet and chopped the rest up into twelve pieces. With a private smile for the sound of the four-wheeler and men’s voices outside, she climbed down into the root cellar with one of the lanterns and filled a small basket with the things she needed. Thankfully, the garden had produced more once she’d gotten a hold on the weeds strangling her vegetable plants, and Ian had taken her around the property and showed her blueberry patches and a pair of apple trees that his oversensitive bear nose had picked up. The man had already eaten a tree’s worth of the apples in his constant need to eat right now, but she’d preserved the rest along with a few buckets of ripe blueberries and would have jam and fruit for pies in the winter. She’d never had that before, nor had she known how to can and smoke salmon. Ian had proven himself invaluable.