Page 65 of Luna

Once he realized she was staying at the ranch, any number of thoughts had popped into Hunter’s head about getting Luna alone so he could do a little sparking. However, with the harvest crew there and the work involved with feeding them, not to mention Laila and Rachel clinging to Luna like burrs to a dog’s tail, he’d not found a single moment to spend with the enchanting woman who had captured his heart.

Hunter knew it was crazy to even think about falling in love, but he had. He adored Luna and would do anything for her, but until his life was more settled, he had no intention of officially courting her. He didn’t even have a home of his own to offer her, at least not one fit to inhabit until Walker finished the renovations to his house. He couldn’t very well think about marriage when he lived with his sister in the house where they’d spent their childhood summers.

Someday, the time would be right for him to share his feelings with Luna. It just wasn’t now or the foreseeable future. He could almost hear Walker’s grandmother, Rebecca Williams, giving him sage words of advice about time waiting for no man or something along those lines, but he was young and busy and didn’t see a need to rush into anything.

Besides, he wasn’t one hundred percent certain Luna felt the same way about him. As far as he knew, she still intended to someday return to New York City to live. The thought of her being anywhere but Pendleton made him scowl as he flicked on the electric lights and bathed the kitchen in light.

“Oh!” Luna gasped, her gaze colliding with his as her hands stilled in the bowl of dough.

Hunter registered her surprise but also her welcome, as though she was glad to see him.

“Morning, Luna Moona,” he whispered, not wanting anyone else to awaken.

“Morning. Did you pull on a pair of grumpy britches this morning?” she asked with a grin as she returned to kneading the dough.

Hunter realized he was still scowling and shook his head. “I did not. What are you doing up? It’s too early for anyone to be stirring this morning.”

She raised an eyebrow and tipped her head toward him. “Apparently, it isn’t. You’re up, and the work won’t begin for at least three hours.”

“True, but there’s always regular work. I told Rowdy I’d look at one of the threshers this morning. It wasn’t working properly yesterday.”

“In that case, I don’t have coffee made yet, but there is hot water. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“No, not unless it’s cold. It’s already hot in here. How can you stand it?”

Luna motioned to the riding skirt she wore. “These new skirts help a bit,” she said with a grin. “Ilsa was nearly scandalized when I asked if she had a pattern, but she helped me make these. The fabric is lightweight and much more comfortable than my—” She pressed her lips together as though she just realized she was rambling about her attire to him.

Hunter grinned and walked over to a cabinet, taking down two glasses. “They look nice, Luna, and I’m glad you’re more comfortable. I don’t know how you women survive the heat enshrouded in forty layers of froth.”

She giggled softly as he opened the refrigerator and poured two glasses of sweet tea. The pitcher was nearly empty, and he knew gallons of it would be made before the day was through.

When he handed one of the glasses to her, she took it and held it against her flushed cheeks. He noticed tendrils of hair curled around her face and escaped the bun she’d pinned high on her head. “Do you have a minute to sit outside in the cool air?”

“No, but I will anyway.” She gave the dough a few more kneads, then set it near the stove with a cloth covering the bowl.

“More doughnuts?” Hunter asked, aware he sounded hopeful.

She grinned and shook her head. “No, bread. The men ate twice as much as I anticipated yesterday, and there wasn’t even a crumb of it left. I figured I’d double the amount today. But if you are requesting doughnuts, we can make more.”

“Yes, please,” Hunter said and watched as Luna stuck her hand in the cookie jar and fished out the last of the molasses cookies Rachel and Laila had made yesterday. She handed him three of the cookies and took one for herself.

“Will that keep you from starving until I get breakfast ready?”

“Maybe,” he said with a grin, then motioned for her to precede him outside. It was quiet, with dawn not yet approaching. Rather than turn on any lights, they settled into chairs on the porch and sat in silence as they ate the cookies and drank the tea in the refreshing morning air.

“This is nice,” Luna said as she brushed cookie crumbs from her fingers, then flicked them away from her skirt.

“It is nice,” Hunter agreed, wishing he could start every day with Luna beside him. Perhaps one day it would be so when he wasn’t up to his neck in responsibilities at the B Bar D and trying to get his own property whipped into some semblance of shape.

They discussed the crew who would be working that day, Luna’s menu for lunch and dinner, and how she thought Dally was doing with the heat and stress of harvest.

“She’s doing well, Hunter. She does her best to stay off her feet and rest when she can. Yesterday, she sat at the table and peeled potatoes and even kneaded the bread there. I noticed, though, she only took about a twenty-minute nap after lunch. Cornelia kept urging her to get more rest, but Dally is …”

When she hesitated, Hunter grinned. “Stubborn. It’s not her fault, though. She comes by it naturally from both our parents, just like I do.”

Luna laughed. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“Here, now! I might take offense.” Hunter feigned a wounded expression that only made Luna laugh harder.

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