Blood Ties

Chapter 2-2

A few hours later, they were done. The job had taken a little longer than Joanna had expected, but still, it was barely two in the afternoon, leaving Randall plenty of time to do something else with his day if he was so inclined. He stood and surveyed their handiwork, then gave a satisfied nod.

“It looks good,” he said. “But I think the fences in the next pasture down probably need some attention, too.”

“They do,” she admitted. “Or at least, they probably will sometime in the next six months. They’ll hold for now, though — these were the ones that needed the most work right away.”

Joanna stopped there, since part of her wished she’d asked him if he wanted to go ahead and fix the fences in the third pasture. If nothing else, that would have kept him around her property for a few more days.

But she had a feeling he would have seen right through such a ploy. Better to let it go. She couldn’t deny that she’d liked having him around the past couple of days, and yet she knew that pushing for anything else would be a mistake.

Randall didn’t seem inclined to argue with her. He pulled off his work gloves and shoved them into his pocket, then nodded. “Well, if there isn’t anything else you need help with, I guess I’ll be going.”

Damn. She didn’t want him to leave, but any excuses she could come up with as reasons to stay would sound pretty feeble. “Thanks so much for all the help, Randall,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I liked being able to work out in the fresh air for a bit.”

That probably would be a nice change after spending all those years working behind a desk. Then she realized she’d almost forgotten something. She scrabbled in the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out the check she’d written earlier that morning. “Here you go,” she said, extending the piece of paper toward him.

He stared down at the check as though he’d never seen one before in his life. “What’s this?”

“A check,” she said, even as she wondered whether she’d made a serious misstep. “You didn’t think I was going to make you do all this work without paying you for it, did you?”

A long moment passed as he gazed back at her, expression impassive. For the first time, she could see why Addie had found Randall Lenz so intimidating…and scary. Those blue eyes of his might as well have been chips of ice.

When he spoke, though, he didn’t sound angry. No, his tone was almost amused.

“I didn’t come here to help you out because I expected to get paid,” he said. “I owe the Wilcox clan a debt of gratitude for giving me someplace to land. This was just part of repaying that debt.”

Oh. She supposed she should have guessed he’d look at the situation that way. While she could appreciate such a stance, she still hated the idea of making him spend two days performing back-breaking work with not much to show for it.

Well, she’d just have to come up with some other way of saying thank-you. An idea occurred to her almost immediately, but she wasn’t sure if she dared…especially since she knew deep down that her motivation sprang from something more than merely wanting to show her gratitude for all the work he’d done on the property.

Still, she also knew that if she didn’t blurt it out now, she might not have the opportunity — or the courage — to do so again.

“If you won’t let me pay you, then will you at least let me make you dinner tomorrow night?” she asked. “This isn’t a Wilcox clan thing…just a me trying to say thank-you thing.”

He was silent for a moment, expression still unreadable. Had he developed that poker face while interviewing all the “orphan” witches and warlocks he’d collected?

Then he inclined his head ever so slightly and said, “I’d appreciate that, Joanna. I’m not much of a cook, so it’s frozen food when I’m not getting take-out or things from the deli at Sprouts.”

“Well, then,” she replied, relieved that he hadn’t shot her down…but also wondering just what the heck she’d gotten herself into. “It’s time you had a home-cooked meal. Any dietary restrictions I need to know about?”

“No.” A small glint had entered his eyes, as if he’d wondered whether to make something up, just to make things more difficult for her. “No food allergies, nothing I need to avoid. You just make what’s easiest for you.”

Oh, she’d do a lot more than that. Since he hadn’t given her any restrictions, she’d make sure she’d prepare something that would knock his socks off. Maybe not a standing rib roast or anything quite that fancy, but the nights were still cool enough that she could put together something hearty and fun. Coq au vin…lamb stew…possibly elk tenderloins if she could lay her hands on some.

“I’ll figure it out,” she replied, glad that she sounded casual and not at all as though her brain had suddenly switched into overdrive as she tried to decide the best thing to make for their dinner. “Tomorrow at seven?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Tomorrow at seven,” he echoed. “See you then.”

He tilted his head toward her, then turned and headed toward his truck, which he’d parked over by the detached garage. It was hard not to stare at his rear end in those faded jeans, because they definitely were filled out nicely.

Then he was safely inside the vehicle and beginning to move down the lane that led to the highway. A moment later, and he was gone.

Joanna let out a breath…and hoped she hadn’t made a huge mistake by asking him to dinner.