Rocky Mountain Wild (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page B

between her place and his and made her morning and evening walk twice as long. There also was a sizable garden that Phoebe helped tend to, and planned to expand. Her employer, however, preferred hunting to ranching or farming. One day, before breakfast, he returned with large buck slung over his shoulders, and proceeded to gut and ready the animal for the smokehouse. He stacked green hickory logs in the base of the tiny shack, and waited until thick white smoke poured from the little chimney on top. Wolfie chewed a bone nearby and Phoebe came out onto the porch with a pair of his socks she was darning to keep them both company. He’d stripped off his shirt and wore only buckskins and moccasins. It was all she could do to keep her focus on her needlework instead of his broad bare chest, sprinkled with faint freckles and some coarse hair. So she kept her eyes down and distracted herself by talking.
    He wasn’t much of a talker, her Mr. MacDonnell, but he didn’t mind her chatter, it seemed to amuse him. She blathered on and on like she never had before; the cozy company of a man and dog in the vast wilderness loosened her tongue.
    “Come spring I shall plant peas in the garden, and other edibles for our meals. Mrs. Covey let me grow herbs all around the hotel grounds; they are pretty and put off a pleasing scent. Though I do not know how well they will grow here. And use the mule to till my acre and plant something there. I do not know what. What do you think?”
    “About what crops to grow? It’s your land, lass. You decide. You can ask one of our neighbors for advice.”
    “Neighbors?” Phoebe felt surprise there was anyone within ten miles of them.
    “You know, Mrs. Martin or Donovan. Or one of the townspeople.”
    “They hardly live close enough to be called neighbors.”
    “I forget, you’re a city lass.”
    “I am not! I hardly lived in a city.”
    “You did, compared to out here.”
    She rolled her eyes and he wagged a chastising finger. “Do not roll your eyes at me, lass. That disrespect will get you a trip to the woodshed.”
    “What woodshed?” She eyed the piles of hickory chips he was making for the smokehouse. “You just go chop down any tree you like in the forest and just haul it here.”
    “Perhaps I’ll build a woodshed, just for the purpose of taking you there whenever you give me lip.” She glanced up sharply, but his wolfish smile told her he was joking, so she relaxed.
    “I don’t give you lip—” she protested and he raised a brow. “Oh, all right,” she grumbled, and took out her annoyance on her stitches.
    “It’s all right, Phoebe.” He’d taken to calling her by her first name; as her employer, it was his right and she didn’t mind. Secretly, she even thought of him as Calum, or her Mr. MacDonnell, though she’d never say it out loud. “It’s so lonely out here, I’m sure you’d pick a fight with a passing bear just to give use to your voice.”
    “I would not. And it’s not lonely out here. It’s nice. I like it.”
    He seemed pleased, and she felt a surge of happiness.
    “It’s a lovely home you have. I’m surprised you don’t—” She stopped. Perhaps there was a reason he didn’t have a wife or family. The lodge was large enough to fit a brood of children.
    “I like having my own land. It seems, Phoebe, on this one thing we’re in agreement.” He grinned.
    She waited but he said no more on the subject of family.
    It was nice, she reflected at dinner, to have a friendly employer. Sometimes he went through spells of thoughtful silence, but when she approached him, he was ready with a smile. He wasn’t an ogre, despite being the size of one. Their bickering was playful.
    The first real contest came one night later that week, when Calum disappeared for the day and didn’t return for dinner. Phoebe got a good start on the scarves Mrs. Martin had requested, but finally stepped out onto the porch.
    The moon rose and with autumn falling fast, it was