Page 12 of Honoring Freedom
She slammed her hands to her hips. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Then you should have abided by your own rules. Now the Band-Aid has been ripped off. This entire argument is your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault.”
“You are the one refusing to work with me, princess.” His upper lip curled.
Gritting her teeth, she leaned in like a charging bull. “I said we could work together. I’m quickly changing my mind.”
“You do that often. Do you think this is fun for me? That I’m getting some excitement or thrill working with you? I’m not fond of getting my balls busted every time I turn around,” he said quietly.
“Now you’re just talking to hear yourself. I’ll steer clear of you, and your balls.”
“But giving me dirty looks from across the yard isn't really keeping your distance, is it?” He let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging a bit. “Look, we’re not going to settle this argument. We both can’t have all the control. Do you love Sagebrush Rose?” When she kept staring silently, he muttered under his breath. “It’s a question.”
“Yes, of course.” She slanted her gaze on him.
“So do I. I’m here for all the right reasons. If you really love this ranch like you say, then you should want me here. You won’t find just any vet who’ll come here and invest all his loyalty and hard work. But, I guess, if you and I are going to rehash all the hurt and anger every few days, it’s best I cut my losses and head somewhere else.”
She opened her mouth but slammed it shut. Freedom needed to tread carefully. Although a part of her didn’t want to see him every day and be reminded of the past, he was an asset to the ranch. Running a ranch the size of Sagebrush Rose wasn’t easy and good workers were hard to find. What she knew of him, professionally, she knew he would benefit the ranch. Her emotions were personal.
“We should have a seat and discuss the details,” she said.
Keller Abbott was the most infuriating, cocky, egotistical, overbearing man she’d ever encountered, but he was also the most handsome, intelligent, hardworking, interesting man. She didn’t want to admit it, but he might bring life back to the ranch.
Chapter Four
“You got that?” Keller jutted his chin at the suitcase Freedom was struggling with. One of the wheels wobbled noisily.
“I don’t need your help.” She continued pulling the suitcase down the cobblestone walkway, blowing loose curls out of her face. The temperature was unusually cold and being on the mountain intensified the chill. He noticed that she gave a shiver even though she wore a thin jacket and had broken a sweat in her efforts with wrangling the suitcase.
“Good, because I wasn’t asking if you needed my help. No one told you to pack everything including the kitchen sink.”
Before she had a chance to answer, he marched forward along the cobblestone path, feeling a rush of agitation. The ride to Catskills had been as unbearable as listening to her choice of music. He had a feeling she’d turned on the jazz station to test him. From the second they’d left Sagebrush Rose she’d made it clear that they would be behaving as business professionals the entire trip. They’d barely said two words to each other and when he’d attempted to ask her a question, she’d abruptly cut him off saying, “Let’s forego the small talk.”
Keller should have guessed she’d make the trip as painful as possible.
The weekend would be back-to-back auctions and then the annual rancher’s party on the last night. Things might be cut short if it became too intolerable, but at least if he needed to get away, he had acres of wilderness around the cabin to occupy himself. A bear would be better company at this point.
The cabin, a blend of rugged charm and comfort, was a haven for someone who loved nature. Keller loved nature. Sam had once told Keller that he’d bought the place as a getaway, maybe even spend his retirement there.
Keller searched the sun-dappled grounds and could see the rippling lake just beyond the row of tall, majestic trees. He wouldn’t have time to toss a line in the water. The air carried a scent of wood smoke from the neighbors on the other side of the lake. Otherwise, they were alone.
He stepped upon the porch, a wide veranda that wrapped around to the other side, inviting one to linger come evening. A hammock was attached to the roughhewn support beams that lined the rail. A sign hung on the door read, “Whispers of Wood,” flanked by lanterns.
“Misbehaving Daughters,” Freedom said to his back.
“What?”
“The code. Press the speaker button and say Misbehaving Daughters to unlock the door.”
He chuckled. It didn’t surprise Keller that Sam would find an opportunity to make a joke. He loved his daughters, no doubt, but they’d been the reason behind every grey hair on his head. The door clicked and Keller pushed open the heavy oak door then dropped his duffel bag near a stuffed wolf. The glass eyes stared back at him. Sam loved hunting when he was younger. A fact clearly evident in the stuffed deer heads hanging on the wall.
“That was Daddy’s one request when this place was remodeled. My sisters and I could choose the décor, but the heads and taxidermy must remain.” Freedom dragged her awkward suitcase to the middle of the room.
Sam hadn’t spared a dime when it came to the nineteen-fifties cabin. Obviously, he planned to spend time there, apparent in the remodel. The great room alone was a haven for the outdoorsman. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, casting a glow on the polished hardwood floors. A large stone fireplace took up an entire wall, with antlers and framed photos of Sam's daily catches adorning the mantle. Shelves were loaded with old leather-bound books. Plush leather sofas and overstuffed chairs bracketed a lavish bearskin rug sprawled out over the center of the floor.
Keller whistled through his teeth. “Sam spared no expense.”