Page 8 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

“Darla doesn’t trust anybody, regardless of their background. All you have to do is be consistent. Let your words match your actions, and she’ll see you precisely for who you are.”

“You seem more trusting.”

“I’ve read your file, Melissa. You didn’t even have a criminal record before you went to prison,” Colton replies, his gaze darkening for a moment. “There’s a story there, and you’re not ready to share it with me. I get it. Like I said, it’s about building trust, but I’m willing to wait, especially if you wish to carry out the rest of your sentence on this ranch.”

“I do.”

“Good. We look out for our own,” he says.

“I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

“I have no doubt.” He smiles and changes the subject. “Mr. Jeffries had nothing but glowing reviews about your culinary skills. We know what we signed up for.”

The next day,I wake up feeling like a new woman. The bed was comfy and my room is huge compared to my tiny prison cell. I bask in the hot shower of my ensuite bathroom, then pat myself dry and put on a pair of jeans and a grey shirt Darla left for me on a chair by the dresser. I’m looking forward to dabbling in the brand-new kitchen. They had it refitted and modernized, and it is beautiful.

I notice a note in the front pocket of my shirt.I’ll take you into town tomorrow to get you some new clothes, it says.Expenses covered by the ranch. D.

I smile inwardly as I pull my long black hair into a tight bun, then apply some moisturizer to a face that already seems ten years younger. It’s a new day. Yet as I reach for the door, a claw reaches into my chest and clutches my heart, its grip tightening until I can’t breathe from the pain.

“Oh, shit,” I manage as I struggle to breathe. The last thing I need is a panic attack coming out of nowhere. But my knees buckle nonetheless, and I fall to the floor. “Come on,” I wheeze. “You’ve got this…” The pain in my chest fades and the room comes back into focus.

Yeah, I’ve got this, I tell myself, determined to power through the first part of the day without falling apart again.

As soon as I reach the first floor, I’m hit with the unmistakable scent of freshly brewed coffee. Walking into the kitchen, I find Ethan in front of the espresso machine, waiting for another coffee to finish dripping.

“Good morning,” I say, stealing a quick glance at him before I step into the cooking area.

“Figured you could use it,” Ethan replies without looking my way.

I take out plates and bowls from the cupboards below the counter island and lay them out, then dive into the fridge for my ingredients. Colton provided me with a full list of culinary preferences and dietary restrictions—Sammy is the only one who needs to watch his cholesterol, so I’m delighted to find a package of turkey bacon in the fridge with his name on it.

“Thank you,” I say to Ethan as I get to cracking the eggs in one of the bowls, my hands moving automatically throughout the rest of the process. “It does smell nice.”

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, setting my mug on the table in the breakfast area.

“Like a baby,” I chuckle as I whisk my eggs, adding a bit of milk in along with the seasoning to make the perfect scramble. The bacon is frying in the pan in the meantime. “It’s awfully quiet out here.”

Ethan nods slowly as he takes a seat by the window. He looks dangerously hot in that white, long-sleeved shirt, his blue eyes scanning me from head to toe. I feel awfully self-conscious,briefly trying to imagine the kind of woman that men like him and his brother would go for. I think of a blonde, the all-American type with a perfect body and toned arms.

I don’t see myself in that image with my thick thighs and plump behind. I’ve always been on the plus side—which is probably why I settled for someone like Jake Miller in the first place. He was a walking red flag, yet I went all-in because, deep down, I was scared I’d end up alone.

“You’ll get used to the quiet,” Ethan says. “I like it. It beats gunfire and bombshells.”

“I don’t know what those sounds are like in real life, but I’ve seen my share of movies,” I mutter as I take the bacon out and pour the eggs over the grease in the pan.

My back is to Ethan, yet I can feel his gaze still very much on me. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, a tingling sensation unraveling down my spine.

“It’s not something I’d wish on anyone,” Ethan says, his tone clipped.

A minute passes in heavy silence while I listen for noises throughout the house, hoping the others might join us soon. It feels awkward. I’m not sure if Ethan likes me or if he’s just studying me like I’m some sort of critter the cat dragged in.

“I read your file,” Ethan finally says.

“I figured you would,” I reply, already knowing where this conversation is going. I’ve already danced this jig with Darla, then Colton. I’d hoped one of them would bring the others up to speed, but I’ve got a feeling that each of them wants to personally test me in one form or another. “I appreciate thisopportunity and won’t let any of you down.”

“Can you score something for me?”

I almost drop the wooden spoon as I whirl around to give him the nastiest, most appalled glare I can muster. “Excuse me?”

---