Page 15 of Comforted By The Mountain Man
"All the more reason to help them," I say firmly. "Whatever happened before, they're here now. In our town, on our land. That makes them our responsibility."
"Since when are you the protector of strays?" Nash asks with a smirk.
Since this morning, when I held a naked, terrified woman in my arms and wanted to promise her she'd never have to be afraid again.
"Since always," I lie. "Just ask Beckett how many injured animals I dragged home as a kid."
"That's different," Beckett says. "Animals don't have complicated pasts and dangerous ex-boyfriends."
"We don't know she has a dangerous ex-boyfriend."
"We don't know she doesn't," Grayson counters.
Grace's voice carries from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"
We file into the dining room where Grace has set the table with her good china and the silverware that belonged to our mother. Sierra helps carry dishes, moving efficiently like she's used to working in kitchens, while Ryder trails behind, asking Grace about everything he sees.
"This is fancy," Ryder announces as we take our seats. "Are you a princess?"
Grace laughs, a sound that still makes Beckett's face soften every time. "Not a princess, sweetheart. Just someone who likes pretty things."
"Mama likes pretty things too, but we don't have fancy plates."
Sierra's cheeks flush. "Ryder..."
"It's okay," Grace says quickly. "Pretty things aren't what make a home special. It's the people in it."
The kindness in her voice seems to ease Sierra's discomfort and dinner begins with the usual Hunter family chaos. West tells stories that make Ryder giggle. Grayson discusses the timber business in terms a four-year-old can understand. Nash talks about the animals he's seen on his property.
But it's when Ezra asks Sierra about her bookkeeping experience that I see her walls go up again.
"Just basic stuff," she says, the same non-answer she gave me earlier. "Small business management. Nothing too complicated."
"What kind of business?" West asks with genuine curiosity.
"Import export," Sierra replies quickly. "Very boring."
"Import export can be complex," Grayson observes. "Lots of international regulations, customs paperwork, tax implications."
"I mostly handled the domestic side," Sierra says, and takes a large bite of chicken that prevents further questioning.
I catch the look Grayson shoots Nash. They've both noticed the evasion, the careful way she deflects specific questions. But Grace, bless her, seems to sense Sierra's discomfort and smoothly changes the subject to gardening and whether Ryder might like to help plant vegetables.
"Can we grow carrots?" Ryder asks excitedly. "Hulk needs to eat vegetables to stay strong."
"We can grow whatever you want," Grace promises. "Maybe your mom can help too."
"Mama knows about gardens," Ryder says proudly. "She grew tomatoes and herbs in pots at our old place. They were really good."
"Where was your old place?" West asks innocently.
Sierra's hand tightens on her fork. "California."
"Whereabouts in California?" Grayson follows up. "I spent some time stationed at Camp Pendleton."
"Northern California," Sierra says, which contradicts what she told me earlier about Southern California.
The lie hangs in the air for a moment before Grace, clearly sensing the tension, stands abruptly. "Who wants dessert? I made apple pie."
