Page 5 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
A space of my own, a door that locks, and a full breakfast every day. After months of motel rooms with flimsy chains and paper-thin walls, months of stretching every penny of my savings for meals, this feels like a luxury.
“Get settled in,” he says, already backing away. “Rest today. Tomorrow, you can start familiarizing yourself with everything and what needs to be done.”
I nod again, relief washing through me at the thought of solitude after the tension of meeting new people. “I’ll be ready.”
He pauses, “Emma,” he says, and something about how he says my name makes me meet his eyes despite my instinct to look away. “You’re safe here.”
The simple words catch me off guard, and I must swallow hard against the sudden tightness in my throat. He can’t possibly know what that means to me, how desperately I’ve needed to hear it.
Or maybe he can… perhaps it’s written all over my face.
“Thank you,” I manage to say.
He nods once, then turns and walks away, his stride long and confident.
Inside the cottage, I close the door and lean against it, exhaling deeply.
The space is small but clean. Simple rustic furniture—nothing fancy, but very cozy. The air smells faintly of lemon cleaner and pine.
I return to my car, drag my suitcase, and begin the minimal unpacking. I have just three months to earn enough money for the next step, whatever that might be.
Three months to blend in and avoid any unnecessary complications or attention.
2
Emma
As I hang my few clothes in the small closet, a strange noise filters through from outside—a sort of insistent bleating that grows steadily louder. I pause, a faded shirt still in my hands, and tilt my head to listen.
The bleating continues, more determined now.
Curious, I move to the window and push aside the curtain. The small white goat from earlier is trotting purposefully across the grass toward my cottage. Her little hooves kick up with speed, her eyes fixed on my cottage like she’s on a mission.
Before I wonder what she wants, she hops onto my tiny porch with an agile leap that belies her stocky body. She turns once ina circle, then butts her head against my door with a solid thunk that makes the frame rattle.
“What in the world?” I murmur, cautiously opening the door a crack.
That tiny opening is all she needs. The goat immediately wedges her nose into the gap and pushes, making the door swing wide despite my resistance.
Jeez. Even the farm animals are more confident than I am!
“Hey! No, you can’t come in,” I protest, trying to block her with my leg. My shin connects with her fuzzy head, but she’s undeterred, pushing harder against me. The warmth of her body presses against my calf as she bleats indignantly at being denied entry.
“Maple! Leave the new girl alone!” A gruff voice bellows from across the lawn.
I look up to see a tall, dark-haired figure striding toward us, Liam, the alpha I’d seen in the paddocks on the way to the cottage.
Now that he’s closer, I can make out his features more clearly: a firm jaw darkened by several days’ worth of stubble, broad shoulders that strain against his faded red flannel, and eyes that remind me of stormy blue skies. His expression hovers between annoyance and apology, his brows drawn together as he quickens his pace.
“Sorry,” he calls as he approaches. “She’s a menace—always where she shouldn’t be.”
The goat, Maple, continues her determined effort to enter my cottage, bleating again, the sound almost indignant, as if my resistance personally offends her.
Liam grabs her pink collar, tugging her gently but firmly away from the door. “What’s gotten into you?” he mutters to the animal, who responds by trying to yank free of his grip.
Although he hasn’t looked at me yet, I can’t help but notice how attractive he is. Not in a traditionally handsome sort of way, more like he just rolled out of bed—but somehow manages to look incredibly sexy. He’s easily over six feet, but despite his size, there’s a gentleness in how he handles the goat, his large hands careful as he restrains her and tries to soothe her.
“She’s usually not like this.”
