Page 22 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

I see the pain in his eyes, the worry.

He loves his grandfather—that much is certain.

“So, you want me to try to diagnose him and treat him if I can?”

He nods. “And in exchange, I’ll help you get your property ready for winter, ensure that you and Davey will be safe, as much as I can.”

It seems like a fair deal, but making a bargain like this with a billionaire who owns the property I live on feels like it has some unspoken expectation that I’m not seeing. Some conditions that will pop up out of nowhere to blindside me the same way Dave’s death did.

“And that’s it?” I search his face. “Nothing else will be expected of me?”

His eyes widen slightly. “No, I just need to make sure he’s okay, and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t know that you and your son were, too. Even if you don’t want to do this, I’ll still help you…”

My chest warms with his promise and the realization that this offer of a bargain is as much for me as it is for him. Because he could see I was reluctant to accept his help. This offer allows me to helphimin return, and that was likely his intent—to allow me to feel useful and like I’m not taking charity.

He understood exactly what I needed to feel more comfortable with this situation, and the fact that it might help his grandfather is secondary. It’s an act of desperation on his part to try to help someone he loves when he saw the opportunity to do so, not because he actually expects it or needs something in return to do the right thing.

Dalton James is exactly who I thought he was when I lay awake last night, going over his arrival and his insistence that he’d be back to help.

All that makes my answer so much easier. “Okay.”

He offers me a relieved smile that’s still far too tight. “Let’s walk the property and figure out what needs to be done. Then tomorrow morning, you and Davey can come to meet Pops.”

“Is that what you call him?”

His head bobs gently, sending his sandy-blond hair flopping over his forehead. “He raised me after my parents died, so he was like a father to me.”

Tears sting my eyes at the thought that Davey is going to grow up withouthisfather, but I blink them away as I unlatch the gate to allow Dalton to enter the animal pens.

“That’s very sweet of him. How old is he now?”

Dalton sighs as he examines what’s laid out in front of him. “Seventy-five.” He glances over at me with a half-smirk as Rocky approaches him and nudges his hand. “And I’m twenty-three, in case you were wondering.”

I laugh lightly, the sound so foreign to me after so long without it. “I wasn’t.”

The corners of his lips curl up slightly as he pets Davey’s new best friend. “Sure, you weren’t. I know how young I look, but I’ve been working this land for decades. And I remember meeting you, sort of, when you moved up here.”

I lead him into the barn with our spotted friend following closely behind until I manage to corral him into his stall. “I was almost eight months pregnant already when we finally rented from your grandfather.”

“Did you give birth up here?”

The concern in his tone makes warmth bloom in my chest in a way I haven’t felt in so long. I never realized what being alone up here with Davey had done to me. How not having friends or anyone to talk to for weeks at a time unless I went to town would affect me mentally. And having someone actuallycarefeels far better than it probably should. “Yes.”

He glances down at my stomach, still barely visible under Dave’s shirt I wore to work in today. “Is that your plan with this one?”

Instinctively, I place my hands across it. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. Too many other things to worry about.”

A look of pure compassion crosses his face, softening his features. “Well, hopefully, we can take care of some of those things so you can concentrate on what’s important.”

Any lingering reservations I’ve held onto about trusting this man, about putting my life in his hands, evaporate with his words.

The sincerity lacing them.

It’s the same I heard when he was talking about his grandfather.

Dalton feels and loves deeply, and he isn’t doing this because of some ulterior motives. He’s doing it because hecares. Even when he doesn’t know us. Even when he should be preparinghishomestead for winter instead of spending time here trying to resurrect ours.

He stalks through the rest of the barn, examining each stall and all the animal pens on either side. “Where do you get your feed?”

---