Page 24 of Country Mist

“You might have to get used to gatherings with my family.” She followed him into the spacious kitchen with vaulted ceilings and a series of small high windows above larger ones, which let in a lot of sunlight. The room had leather-textured granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances. “That is if you’d like to join me sometime.”

He set the groceries and casserole pan on a large island and looked at her. “For you, I’d be happy to.”

Warmth filled her, and she smiled. “I have to warn you that we’re talking parents, grandparents, eight children, five spouses, and lots of little ones running around.”

Tyson groaned and looked up at the ceiling. “Like my mama used to say, Heaven help me.” He shook his head then met her gaze. “I appreciate the warning.”

She laughed. “I’ll turn on the oven.” She set it for the right temperature and slid in the pan before starting a timer on her phone, not waiting for the oven to preheat. “I’ll lose track and forget it’s there without a timer.”

He indicated the grocery bag on the counter. “What do you have in here?”

“Salad fixins.” She drew out a bag of pre-made salad, a container of baby tomatoes, an orange bell pepper, and two bottles of dressing. “I cheat so I don’t have to cut up lettuce and shred carrots.”

“We’re of the same mind.” He looked at the dressing. “Blue cheese and ranch—I’ll take the ranch.” He put the bottles and the bag of salad in the fridge. “Do you like to cook?”

Haylee shrugged. “No, I can’t say cooking is one of my favorite things. I do like baking sometimes, though.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I don’t mind eating from a can.” He flashed a grin, then tipped his head toward the kitchen door. “Come on out.”

She joined him as they walked to the barn, and his dogs scampered around them. The low of cattle came from the left, and she saw he had Herefords. There were three corrals, plus one for the horses. Large desert willows, mesquite, ash trees, and palo verdes shaded parts of the property.

“These trees are big, so they’ve been here for a while.” She looked up at him as they walked. “You must have acquired the property from someone else.”

“When I came home from the service, old man Callahan passed away, and his kids put the place up for sale,” Tyson said. “I took out a business loan, bought it, and invested in cattle and horses.”

“Do you have ranch hands?”

He gave a nod. “They’re off on weekends.”

A whinny came from the corral attached to the barn as a horse stepped out of the shadows. “You have a gorgeous bay mare.” She met his gaze again. “I’d like to meet her.”

“That’s Jess.”

They went to the corral, and Haylee climbed on the lower rung of the fence and called to the horse. “Come see me, sweet girl.”

The mare bobbed her head and walked up to Haylee, looking at her with bright, intelligent, inquisitive eyes. Jess’ tail swished as Haylee stroked her forehead to her soft, velvety muzzle. “I’m sorry I don’t have a treat for you. Next time.” The mare’s ears twitched, and she stamped her hind foot.

Tyson chuckled. “She loves her treats. She’ll hold you to it.”

Another horse came out of the barn then trotted to them, and she admired its dappled gray coat with black points. “Your blue roan is gorgeous, too.”

“This is Jasper.” Tyson patted the gelding’s neck when he reached them. “I work the ranch with him—he’s a damn fine horse.” He nodded to the mare. “Jess has spirit to her, but I’m sure you can handle her if you want to go for a ride sometime.”

“I can handle just about anything but busting broncs.” Haylee smiled. “I’ve been on horseback since I could walk. I’d love to ride with you.”

Tyson reached out and brushed hair from her cheek. “You are the most amazing woman.”

Heat rushed from Haylee’s belly to the place where his fingers skimmed her face. She didn’t know what to say except “Thank you.”

He slid his fingers through her hair to her shoulder. “Let’s go to the barn. Your timer’s bound to go off soon.”

She jumped off the rail and landed beside him. “Lead on.”

Zoey and Freya bounded ahead as Tyson shortened his stride for her. She was average height for a woman, but his legs were so long. He had to be a good six-three.

The barn’s weathered exterior was gray, the paint worn away. “One thing I haven’t done is paint the barn since I bought the place,” he said as they walked through the big double doors into the cool recesses. “It’s next on my list.”

“What color?” She stepped onto the hay-strew dirt floor. “Barn-red?”

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