Inebriated on the best bottle of brandy he'd been been privileged to drink in as long as he could remember, Austin Barnes had slept like the dead. That wasn't really the problem, though; the problem was that when the sun finally decided to make itself known and peek through the curtains, it brought with it a pounding headache. Whatever had happened the night before was little more than a vague memory, but it wasn't so much the lack of memory that he found bewildering as the warm body that was sharing his bed.
The house was already up and working by the time he roused to wakefulness, but no one came to disturb him. That might well have had something to do with the fact that the warm body at his side, draped over him and pressed as close as a lover, belonged to Jemima Stanley, a woman with considerable authority here on the ranch, even if she no longer held a position of power. She was sleeping, nestled against him in the shared warmth beneath the covers, her arm wrapped about his waist.
A soft knock on the door was all the warning he had that someone was coming, and that someone turned out to be Dani, grinning from ear to ear, bearing a tray on which was held two cups, a pot of coffee, a jug of cream, a sugar bowl, and a bottle of aspirin. She bounced on her toes, trying not to wake her mother as she set the tray down, beaming over at the pair of them in the bed, and offered Austin two very excited thumbs up. Then she left, closing the door almost silently behind her.
The first thing he did was groan, his head feeling like it was splitting open, once he managed to pry his eyes open. The room swayed a little, even as Dani let herself in, but he was feeling too ill to scold her or chase her out. Anyway, the coffee and aspirin might help, if nothing else did. His brain was still foggy and muddled, and he felt confused as to why she was giving him thumbs up, until he glanced over at the warm body at his side and recognized her mother, curled up and looking warm and content.
"What the ..." he murmured, moving to sit up, but that only made his head pound all the more and he sank back down onto the pillows, trying for the life of him to remember what, if anything, had happened last night.
At his side, Jem stirred a little, making a soft, girlish sound in the back of her throat as she nestled even closer to him. Her fingers brushed against his bare skin, innocent but possessive even in her sleep. Whatever had happened last night had certainly changed something.
He thought the brandy must have addled his brain. He recalled bits and pieces of the previous night - a conversation with the ranch's owner, whom Austin could not help but like; a proposition of sorts; and then he'd come here, with the intention of sleeping off the brandy in peace. But there was Jem, lying beside him. How had she got there" She was no figment of his imagination. She was as real and as warm-bodied as he was. Surprised by her touch and her closeness, he startled, losing his balance and dropping with a thud onto the floor.
It wasn't so much the thud as the abrupt removal of the warm body against her that woke Jem with a start. She yelped, sitting bolt upright almost before her eyes were open, looking around in alarm. "What the ...." Her eyes swept the room, seeking and finally finding him on the floor. "What are you doing down there?"
By the time she found him, he had his head in his hands and was trying to will the room to stop its incessant spinning. "Trying not to get sick," he replied in a hoarse voice, though it might be better to just empty his stomach of its contents so that he could start fresh with a cup of strong, black coffee.
"Aw, hell," was her succinct response to that. A moment later, she was out of the bed, socked feet quiet on the floor as she moved past him for the bowl in the bathroom. She brought it over to him, resting it on his knees. "Heave it up, you'll feel better for it."
In front of her" The man had his pride, but his body thought otherwise. She had no sooner rested the bowl on his knees than he was heaving, his chest and jaw aching with the effort, but there was no fighting it. Ranch owner or no, he was going to thrash Sam when he saw him again, but then, he realized the man was probably doing the same as him right at this very moment.
To be fair, Sam was probably having a harder time of it. Austin had already had a taste of the outspoken woman of the house, after all. At least Jem just let him get on with it, and when he was done, there was a cool cloth to wipe his face with and a glass of water to rinse out his mouth. She didn't say a word about his drinking, or tell him it was all his own fault. She just dealt with it, quietly and efficiently, and was already pouring his coffee when he surfaced from his own personal misery.
Like most men after a good drunk, he secretly swore he'd never do it again, but damn, that had been the best brandy he'd tasted in a very long time. It was too bad he was tasting it again this morning, in a far less enjoyable manner. Once he was finished heaving the last of it up, he wiped his face and rinsed out his mouth, grateful she had nothing to say to berate him. Once that was finished, he was feeling well enough that he could get himself up on his feet long enough to at least take a seat on the side of the bed. "Thanks," he mumbled, feeling a little wounded pride.
"Just as well I was here," she said in a wry tone, handing him the cup of coffee, made to his liking. "Sip slowly." Taking charge of the bowl, she disappeared into the bathroom, where the noises told the story of emptying and cleaning going on before she reappeared.
He knew better than to say anything more, for the moment. No questions about what had happened the night before. He thought he'd have remembered it if something had happened between them. He thought he remembered a kiss - the soft, warm, familiar taste of her lips - or had it just been a dream' He focused all his attention for now on sipping the coffee from the mug she had placed in his shaking hands. He almost felt like a child again, useless and ignorant and foolish, needing her help for the most basic tasks.
When she was done, Jem joined him on the bed, all but tucking him back in so he wouldn't get cold on top of recovering from his stomach's upset. Two aspirin were placed in his hand. "That head must be pounding," was all she said, proof that she knew he had been drunker than he'd thought the night before. "I wonder who brought the coffee?"
"Dani," he replied, at least able to articulate that before he sipped at the coffee again and swallowed one aspirin after another, grateful once again for her help and that of her daughter's. Did they know that he loved them' That he had always loved them' That he couldn't have loved Dani more if she was his own daughter" Maybe it was time he told them, he thought, though the words wouldn't come to his lips.
"Oh gods ..." Jem groaned even as she laughed, resting her head back against the headboard of the bed. "Well, I'll have to head that off," she mused. "We don't really have anything to tell her yet."
"Yet?" he echoed, gaze questioning. Maybe he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know. "What happened last night?" he asked her. "Did we?" His voice trailed off as he gestured between them with the wave of a hand, making his meaning plainly understood.
She smiled at him. "No, honey, you passed out when I kissed you," she assured him. "But since you were so talkative and honest, I have a question to ask you this morning, and I want you to answer it honestly. No stubbornness, no pride getting in the way. Can you do that for me?"
The house was already up and working by the time he roused to wakefulness, but no one came to disturb him. That might well have had something to do with the fact that the warm body at his side, draped over him and pressed as close as a lover, belonged to Jemima Stanley, a woman with considerable authority here on the ranch, even if she no longer held a position of power. She was sleeping, nestled against him in the shared warmth beneath the covers, her arm wrapped about his waist.
A soft knock on the door was all the warning he had that someone was coming, and that someone turned out to be Dani, grinning from ear to ear, bearing a tray on which was held two cups, a pot of coffee, a jug of cream, a sugar bowl, and a bottle of aspirin. She bounced on her toes, trying not to wake her mother as she set the tray down, beaming over at the pair of them in the bed, and offered Austin two very excited thumbs up. Then she left, closing the door almost silently behind her.
The first thing he did was groan, his head feeling like it was splitting open, once he managed to pry his eyes open. The room swayed a little, even as Dani let herself in, but he was feeling too ill to scold her or chase her out. Anyway, the coffee and aspirin might help, if nothing else did. His brain was still foggy and muddled, and he felt confused as to why she was giving him thumbs up, until he glanced over at the warm body at his side and recognized her mother, curled up and looking warm and content.
"What the ..." he murmured, moving to sit up, but that only made his head pound all the more and he sank back down onto the pillows, trying for the life of him to remember what, if anything, had happened last night.
At his side, Jem stirred a little, making a soft, girlish sound in the back of her throat as she nestled even closer to him. Her fingers brushed against his bare skin, innocent but possessive even in her sleep. Whatever had happened last night had certainly changed something.
He thought the brandy must have addled his brain. He recalled bits and pieces of the previous night - a conversation with the ranch's owner, whom Austin could not help but like; a proposition of sorts; and then he'd come here, with the intention of sleeping off the brandy in peace. But there was Jem, lying beside him. How had she got there" She was no figment of his imagination. She was as real and as warm-bodied as he was. Surprised by her touch and her closeness, he startled, losing his balance and dropping with a thud onto the floor.
It wasn't so much the thud as the abrupt removal of the warm body against her that woke Jem with a start. She yelped, sitting bolt upright almost before her eyes were open, looking around in alarm. "What the ...." Her eyes swept the room, seeking and finally finding him on the floor. "What are you doing down there?"
By the time she found him, he had his head in his hands and was trying to will the room to stop its incessant spinning. "Trying not to get sick," he replied in a hoarse voice, though it might be better to just empty his stomach of its contents so that he could start fresh with a cup of strong, black coffee.
"Aw, hell," was her succinct response to that. A moment later, she was out of the bed, socked feet quiet on the floor as she moved past him for the bowl in the bathroom. She brought it over to him, resting it on his knees. "Heave it up, you'll feel better for it."
In front of her" The man had his pride, but his body thought otherwise. She had no sooner rested the bowl on his knees than he was heaving, his chest and jaw aching with the effort, but there was no fighting it. Ranch owner or no, he was going to thrash Sam when he saw him again, but then, he realized the man was probably doing the same as him right at this very moment.
To be fair, Sam was probably having a harder time of it. Austin had already had a taste of the outspoken woman of the house, after all. At least Jem just let him get on with it, and when he was done, there was a cool cloth to wipe his face with and a glass of water to rinse out his mouth. She didn't say a word about his drinking, or tell him it was all his own fault. She just dealt with it, quietly and efficiently, and was already pouring his coffee when he surfaced from his own personal misery.
Like most men after a good drunk, he secretly swore he'd never do it again, but damn, that had been the best brandy he'd tasted in a very long time. It was too bad he was tasting it again this morning, in a far less enjoyable manner. Once he was finished heaving the last of it up, he wiped his face and rinsed out his mouth, grateful she had nothing to say to berate him. Once that was finished, he was feeling well enough that he could get himself up on his feet long enough to at least take a seat on the side of the bed. "Thanks," he mumbled, feeling a little wounded pride.
"Just as well I was here," she said in a wry tone, handing him the cup of coffee, made to his liking. "Sip slowly." Taking charge of the bowl, she disappeared into the bathroom, where the noises told the story of emptying and cleaning going on before she reappeared.
He knew better than to say anything more, for the moment. No questions about what had happened the night before. He thought he'd have remembered it if something had happened between them. He thought he remembered a kiss - the soft, warm, familiar taste of her lips - or had it just been a dream' He focused all his attention for now on sipping the coffee from the mug she had placed in his shaking hands. He almost felt like a child again, useless and ignorant and foolish, needing her help for the most basic tasks.
When she was done, Jem joined him on the bed, all but tucking him back in so he wouldn't get cold on top of recovering from his stomach's upset. Two aspirin were placed in his hand. "That head must be pounding," was all she said, proof that she knew he had been drunker than he'd thought the night before. "I wonder who brought the coffee?"
"Dani," he replied, at least able to articulate that before he sipped at the coffee again and swallowed one aspirin after another, grateful once again for her help and that of her daughter's. Did they know that he loved them' That he had always loved them' That he couldn't have loved Dani more if she was his own daughter" Maybe it was time he told them, he thought, though the words wouldn't come to his lips.
"Oh gods ..." Jem groaned even as she laughed, resting her head back against the headboard of the bed. "Well, I'll have to head that off," she mused. "We don't really have anything to tell her yet."
"Yet?" he echoed, gaze questioning. Maybe he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know. "What happened last night?" he asked her. "Did we?" His voice trailed off as he gestured between them with the wave of a hand, making his meaning plainly understood.
She smiled at him. "No, honey, you passed out when I kissed you," she assured him. "But since you were so talkative and honest, I have a question to ask you this morning, and I want you to answer it honestly. No stubbornness, no pride getting in the way. Can you do that for me?"