Monica Avery stood in the shadows near the half-open window of the small building she currently used as her office, watching her foreman touring around the dooryard with the new man.
Jake Nichols… His name floated through her mind, and her chest tightened a little. She hadn’t intended to spend this morning standing idly by, secretly gawking at the man, but there was something about him that held her attention.
As the men walked through the yard, a group of younger children ran up to them. The little ones were always full of questions for anyone new on the ranch. She smiled as she watched Jake interact with them. He seemed a little unsure of himself at first, but he was soon chatting with them easily. One of the younger boys appeared to acquire Jake’s full attention. Jake casually tipped his hat back on his head with one finger while he crouched down to the boy’s level, a small smile curling his lips.
Ah, his lips… She sighed. She certainly found him attractive. At one time she would’ve considered approaching him, but she didn’t need or want to jump into another fling. Still, despite her misgivings, Jake Nichols piqued her curiosity. Shawn told her he was a smart man, but hurting and leery of women. Well, she hadn’t needed Shawn to tell her that. Considering where he came from, she expected his skittishness. She just didn’t know how to help him through his apprehensions so he could enjoy his time with them. Monica had seen the fear in Jake’s eyes the first time he met her gaze. He seemed broken in ways she could only imagine. She could understand that feeling. She’d been lost and afraid before, but then she had Rosa and Shawn to help her. Jake didn’t seem to have anyone. Watching him smile at the boy in her dooryard and shake his hand, as if they’d struck some kind of bargain, warmed her heart but also made her feel oddly sad. Still, the touching scene gave her hope that Jake wasn’t so damaged he couldn’t heal. But then, he’d have to permanently get away from the danger of Darla Cain for that to truly happen. She shied from that, refusing to think about the horrors Jake Nichols may have faced all alone and would again in the fall.
Outside, Jake adjusted his hat and stood up, still smiling at the kids as Shawn shooed them on their way. Jake glanced toward her office, and she receded farther into the shadows of the unlit room. Curious as to what he was looking at, she also wondered what he thought about her and his temporary home.
“He will be mine,” said a voice Monica recognized, floating in through the partially open window.
Jake kept glancing in the direction of three women—all guards on the ranch, now standing a few feet from Monica’s office window—his hands balled into fists. Shawn put his hand on Jake’s shoulder, turned him around, and led him behind the building site. Monica noted how much taller Jake was than Shawn, how broad his shoulders were, and how he walked with a masculine grace that sang to her.
“I can’t wait to get him alone,” the same voice said decisively to her friends.
“Do you really think you’ll get him into bed, Kristine?” one of the women asked. “Rumor is he came from Darla Cain’s. He didn’t look too able or accommodating when he arrived.”
Monica’s stomach lurched. The fact that they were talking about Jake was bad enough, but the conversation got worse the longer she listened.
“Darla’s slaves are well-trained,” Kristine replied, with too much conviction for Monica’s taste. “He’ll be anxious to please me.”
“Well, I must admit,” the third guard said from Kristine’s other side, “I’ll be jealous if you do get to have sex with him. Just look at him.”
“Oh, I am,” Kristine said. The greedy lust in her tone irritated Monica on several levels. “And don’t get any ideas about trying to beat me to him.”
“We wouldn’t think of it,” the second guard said, brushing back her blonde hair and winking at her friend.
“I mean it,” Kristine said in a commanding tone. The other two sobered immediately. At twenty, Kristine was young, but in Monica’s estimation, she knew her worth. Not only did men find her attractive, but more often than not, she got her way. The others seemed a little afraid of her, and that, too, set off warning bells in Monica’s head.
“We wouldn’t interfere,” the third guard said, tilting her dark-blonde head and fixing Kristine with an intense stare as she lowered her voice. “But you should be careful. Monica doesn’t allow us to force them. You’ll lose your job and get kicked out of your home if you do.”
Well, Monica thought, at least one of them listened to me.
“I won’t need to force him,” Kristine said. “Men are easy to manipulate. A look, a touch, a kiss, and he’ll come running. Besides, even if he’s not willing now, he’ll be going back. If he doesn’t comply, he’ll be sorry he turned me down later. Darla will punish him for his rudeness, and I’ll have him anyway.”
Her friends giggled, though their laughter sounded more uncomfortable than amused.
Monica fought the urge to storm outside and shout that Kristine would do no such thing. She only just succeeded.
As a girl and young adult, Kristine had known no other world except one where men were slaves. She needs guidance, not punishment, Monica thought. Unfortunately, most of the women Monica had hired on as guards or ranch hands—who received room and board and a little pay, once the ranch started to earn a profit—had come from other homes or from town, where that kind of behavior was the norm. Monica refused to hold that against them. She had high hopes for all of them and wanted to give them every chance
