Hiding Out At The Circle C

'Lots of things.' She looked at him. 'Like where I came from. What I do for a living.'

He went quiet for a moment. 'Do you really want me to ask you those things?'

'No!' she snapped. 'Oh, just forget it.' She sighed, shifted, and tried not to notice how wonderfully warm his jacket felt, how good it smelled.

'Why would it matter to me what you've done for a living, as long as you can take care of cooking and cleaning my house?' he asked curiously.

She'd been taught manners at an incredibly young age so she managed to catch herself before she sputtered at his ridiculous question. 'Because you've hired me. You should care what I've done.'

His eyes met hers then, and for the first time she realized how dark and melting their brown depths were. 'What if I trust you?' he asked.

Haley thought of how the system she'd created had allowed someone to kill innocent people instead of save them. Thought of the pager that sat in her purse, ready to terrify her again at a moment's notice. The truth was, she hadn't deserved to get away alive. Yet, this man sitting next to her, this stranger, trusted her. 'You should be more careful with that trust,' she said carefully. 'You could get hurt.'

Something flickered in his eyes, then was gone. 'Not me.'

But he had been hurt, she realized with sudden insight. At some point, he'd been badly hurt. And no matter how casual he appeared, he would only let her get away with so much. He was not stupid-not by a long shot. 'You don't even know if I can cook.'

'I'll take my chances.'

She muttered under her breath about the lackadaisical attitude of Midwestern cowboys, but he ignored the verbal attack and seemed amused.

'Why, darlin', you sound like you care what happens to me,' he drawled.

'Of course, I do. You're writing the paycheck.'

He laughed and shook his head. And drove on into the night never once bothering her about her past.

* * *

Hands propped behind his head, Cam stared at the ceiling. Having trouble sleeping hadn't been a problem in a long time but it was late and here he lay, still trying to drift off.

Both Jason and Zach had accepted Haley easily. Especially since, he'd noted with amusement, she'd managed to charm both of them without trying. He found it vastly interesting that she didn't use that same charm on him. In fact, she did everything in her power to make sure he didn't notice her.

It wasn't working.

Oh, he knew he had no business hiring her for the sort of work he needed done without knowing if she was even fully capable. Cooking the hearty meals necessary for him and his brothers would be a challenge. So would keeping up the big house. But something about the wary, vulnerable-looking Haley Williams had appealed to his soft spot, which was never far beneath the surface.

Maybe it had been the pride and intelligence-two of his favorite qualities-he'd seen shimmering in her eyes. It didn't matter what her past was, she needed help in some way or other, and he could provide it.

That was all. It had nothing to do with her being a woman.

Oh, he loved women-all kinds. But it didn't mean he could be serious about them. He had done that once and would never do it again.

Never.

There was more to life than pain, stress and hard work. Much more. He liked to take things easy now. Enjoy and Savor-that was his motto. That was why he tinkered with making furniture instead of working in Denver at the stock brokerage, as he had for years. It was why he let his brothers run the ranch that was his. Some considered it a lazy way of life for a man just short of his thirty-second birthday, but not Cam. Thanks to a lesson learned the hard way, he knew just how precious life could be-and he intended to get the most out of it this time around.

Which meant all he wanted was to help Haley in any way he could, and enjoy her hopefully excellent cooking.

Nothing else.

But the truth of it was, he couldn't forget the wariness in her eyes after she'd gotten off the plane, or her terror during the taxi incident. Or how gallantly she'd tried to shrug them off. She might think she'd fooled him, but beneath her rough-and-tough exterior, she was scared.

And he wanted to know why. Just to protect his family, of course. For no way would he allow himself to become personally involved.

* * *

Haley lay in her bed, far from the main house in a tiny, but lovely cottage, hopelessly wide-awake in spite of her exhaustion. Max was sprawled on her feet-a warm little bundle of fur. He'd insisted on coming with her, though she didn't know why. She hadn't encouraged him in any way, yet he'd followed her out of the truck. Nellie had asked if she minded, and what could she say? Then Nellie told her that Max had been found abused and abandoned, and that he still wasn't entirely comfortable around men. He also didn't like to sleep alone.

Well, that made two of them, on both counts. Haley had never been comfortable with men, either. Or dogs. Mostly because she'd never been around them much. Her mother had loved the male species, but had thought dogs nasty beasts-not that either attitude would have affected Haley much at boarding school. Dogs-and men-hadn't been allowed.

She lifted her head and peeked at the sleeping Max. The little guy seemed harmless enough. He was even sort of cute, in a puppy sort of way.

Her stomach felt like fire, as a combination of nerves and acid burned the already painful ulcer. Hugging a pillow to soften the pain, she rolled onto her side and stared out the window into the night.

Colorado was the most incredible, magnificent place she'd ever seen-and she'd seen plenty. The rolling hills, the tall, noisy trees she knew to be aspens, the vast black sky, the isolation… it all appealed to her. Amazingly enough, just looking at it seemed to lessen the ache in her stomach.

She could simply get up, take her medicine and a sleeping pill as usual, and be fine until morning. But she didn't want to do that; she wanted to be fine without help.

Sighing, she closed her eyes. Then jerked them open again as the macabre memories of blood and death flashed across her lids.

'Okay, okay,' she murmured to herself until her breathing slowed and her heart thudded dully. You're okay. Alive.

But Dani and Frederick weren't. And she had no way of knowing about poor Lloyd Branson, her kind boss. Or Bob. Alda seemed okay, but was she safe?

Haley froze.

Could one of them have been responsible? No. No. She refused to think about them in the same thought as betrayal. They wouldn't. Couldn't.

But who else knew of the now destroyed system and how much it was worth?

Sitting up, she threw the pillow across the small room. The violent gesture cheered her considerably as she gave herself a tough talk, reminding herself it was past time to shelve the self-pity-and the ulcer-and get on with it.

Max whined softly and looked at her. 'It's all right,' she said quietly, feeling badly for having scared the little fellow. He looked worried, so serious with that wrinkled forehead. She petted him, then even smiled when he became a boneless, wriggling mass of happiness.

How tempting this life suddenly was. No pressure.

Here she wasn't just a brain. Here she was a real person, with real feelings. Here, for the first time in her entire life, she had a true friend. One who liked her not for her IQ, but for just who she was.

Pulling the beautiful homemade quilt to her chin, Haley inhaled the fragrance of the dried flowers on the lovely