Big Sky Mountain - By Linda Lael Miller Page 0,33

admittedly fascinating man and even then she was reluctant to leave the room.

As soon as they were alone, Kendra opened her mouth and stuck her foot in it. “Don’t let her get too attached to you, Hutch,” she heard herself almost plead, in a sort of fractured whisper. “Madison’s already lost so much.”

Hutch looked stunned; he even paled a little, under his year-round tan, but in a nanosecond, he’d gone from stunned to quietly furious.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, and though he kept his voice low, it rumbled like thunder gathering beyond the nearby hills.

Kendra let out a long breath, closed her eyes briefly, and rubbed her temples with the fingertips of both hands. “I wasn’t saying—”

He leaned slightly forward in his chair, his bluish-green eyes fierce on her face. “What were you saying, then?” he pressed. She knew that look—he wasn’t going to let this one go, would sit there all night if he had to, until he got an answer he could accept as the unvarnished truth.

“Madison is only four years old,” she said weakly. Carefully. “She doesn’t understand that your charm, like sunshine and rain, pretty much falls on everybody.” She tried for more clarity and spoke with more strength now. “I don’t want her getting too fond of you, Hutch. You’re so nice to her and she might read things into that that aren’t there.”

Hutch shoved a hand through his hair in a gesture of pure annoyance. His jawline went a bloodless white, he was clenching his back molars together so tightly. “You think I play games with people—with kids?” he finally asked, as though the concept had come out of left field and mowed him down. “You think I get some kind of kick out of making them believe I care so I can kick their feelings around later, just for the fun of it?”

Kendra hiked up her chin and met his gaze straight on. “Maybe not with children,” she allowed evenly, “but do you ‘play games’ with women? That’s a definite yes, Hutch. And I’m sure Brylee Parrish isn’t the only person who’d be willing to back me up on the theory.”

“You believe all that—” he paused, looked back over one shoulder, probably to make sure Madison hadn’t wandered back into earshot and, seeing that she hadn’t, finished with “—crap on the internet?”

Kendra’s chuckle was light, but edged with a degree of bitterness that surprised even her. “Pictures don’t lie,” she said. “Besides, this goes back a lot further than your infamy on the web. Maybe you’ve forgotten that one of those broken hearts was mine?”

He looked as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And maybe you’ve forgotten that we had something good going for us before you decided to kick off the traces and become Lady Chamberlain.”

“It wasn’t like that at all!” Kendra whispered.

“Go ahead and rewrite history to suit yourself,” Hutch rasped, pushing back his chair and standing up, his half-finished coffee forgotten. He made the move so quietly that his chair didn’t so much as scrape the floor, but rage was hardwired into every lean, powerful line of him. He set his hands on his hips and looked down at her for a long moment, then added, “The fact is, sweetheart, you walked out on me.”

A knock sounded at the screen door just then, and a man’s face appeared on the other side of the mesh. “Brought the car,” he said, jangling the keys.

Hutch crossed the room, yanked the screen door open, and stormed right past the guy without even glancing at him.

The ranch hand looked at him curiously and extended the Volvo keys to Kendra, who had followed Hutch as far as the threshold, even though she had no intention of pursuing him. All the things she wanted to say to Hutch—okay, scream at him—were lodged painfully in the back of her throat, where she’d barely managed to stop them.

“Thank you,” Kendra said mildly, taking the keys from the visitor’s hand.

“You’re mighty welcome,” the weathered cowboy replied with a practiced tug at his hat brim. A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes. “Seems like this wouldn’t be a good time to hit the boss up for a raise.”

Kendra smiled at the joke. “You’re probably right,” she replied.

Hutch’s truck started up with a roar, and both Kendra and the ranch hand winced a little when the tires screeched as he pulled away from the curb.

The cowboy shook his head, smiled ruefully and turned toward the

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