Page 5 of Light on Love

They are deep in conversation, every so often one of them casting a glance her way. Laurel shifts on her feet, wishing she had something to do other than stand here and watch them. Then the man picks up her bags and turns towards the truck.

“Are you coming?” he calls over his shoulder as he walks away, his deep voice managing to sound stern and bored at the same time.

Once inside the truck, Laurel sneaks a glance up at him. Objectively, his face was unfairly perfect, complete with a defined jaw and whiskey brown eyes. Framing in all his features was dark brown hair, wild and long enough to sit at the nape of his neck, and in contrast, a closely trimmed beard. From this angle, she notices an array of short scars, mostly hidden by his beard along the right side of his jaw then moving out along his neck and under his ear.

“You’re Dr. Laurel Montgomery?” He glances over at her, and she feels her face warm, embarrassed to have been staring a second time.

“Yes, hi! Just Laurel, please. Are you…”hopefully not Brett, she silently adds. She wasn’t sure if she could handle living with a man she’d been caught drooling over twice in the first ten minutes of meeting.

The corner of his mouth lifts just slightly in the smallest smirk, like he had heard her thoughts.Or the embarrassment is written all over your face, she reminds herself.

“I’m Brett Hayes, your new bodyguard.” Laurel’s hand twists in her hair as she nods and smiles at him. Internally, she curses her body for reacting to the idea that this man was hers in any way.

“I appreciate you letting me stay here and agreeing to look out for me.”

“This ranch is vast and dangerous. Stay at the house to stay safe. The mountains could claim you before any terrorist finds you here.”

So much for pleasantries.A shiver runs through her at the way he delivers his words. She nods, her voice caught in her throat, and focuses again on the ranch around her. They crossed through a gate in the wooden fence surrounding the field that she assumes is used as a pasture, and onto a dirt road. When Brett reaches over and turns on soft country music, Laurel notices that she feels calmer.

Warm August air ripples through the open windows. The sound of a deep Chris Stapleton song fills the truck, golden sun spilling over everything in the scene around her, and she can’t help but smile to herself. Maybe this isn’t such a bad situation to be in after all.

“Can you tell me about the ranch? It’s breathtaking,” she says after a few songs.

“It’s 5,160 acres. The field you landed in is close to the east perimeter, and the compound is on this east side of the river that runs through the property. For the most part we are surrounded by mountains like a natural barrier. The northwest quadrant of the property reaches up into those mountains.”

He pauses to look over at her, “you aren’t to cross the river, or even leave the fences around the general compound. I have security measures and alerts set up strategically. I won’t be going out on the farther rides while you’re here. If any signal is sent, I’ll always be able to get back to the compound before the threat.”

He waits for her to nod in acknowledgment before continuing.“There are cattle, and horses used to herd the cattle, no other animals. This is what we do here, always have.”

“How long has it been Hayes Ranch? What did you do while you were serving?”

“It’s been in the family for four generations now. After my dad, our lead ranch hand ran it for me until I returned two years ago.”

Laurel found herself growing more and more curious with every minute about the rugged cowboy she’d be staying with for the foreseeable future.

“What made you come back?” There’s that jaw flex again, she notices.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

Okay, so I guess we aren’t talking about that, Laurel concludes as he turns his attention back to the road.

“Do you know of this terror operation that threatened me?” she asks, hoping to get him talking to her again.

He pauses and rubs his large, tanned hand along his jaw. “Yeah, some of my last operations involved them starting to make a name for themselves. Ray sent me some info on what they’ve been up to lately, seems like they are gaining speed.”

“How worried should I be?” Laurel asks in a whisper, feeling the fear reach her expression momentarily before shoving it back down.

Brett meets her eyes, and she wonders if he saw the crack in her composure just now.

“I’m not going to sugar coat things, they’re a real threat. But you don’t need to worry, I’ll keep you safe. Just make sure you follow what I say.”

The dirt below their tires becomes gravel and they curve around a line of trees to reveal the compound ahead. In stark contrast against the greens and browns of the nature around them is a sprawling white farmhouse. It has an inviting wraparound porch and stone façade. Set further back, two smaller matching cottages, are connected to the house by a stone path.

Once parked at the house, Laurel jumps down from the truck and walks to the edge of the hill it sits atop to see a cluster of wood barns surrounding a central corral below. She’s enthralled when she notices the cowboys riding in, her attention only pulled away when Brett comes to stand beside her.

“I have a crew of about a dozen, they’re good guys and most have been with the family their whole lives. If you need anything and can’t find me then Floyd is your guy. He’s my lead, the one with the grey mustache in the red shirt, on the painted horse.” He points in the direction of the man he’s describing. “Come on, I’ll show you inside.”

Brett doesn’t wait for a response as he heads for the house, and she quickens her pace to catch up and step inside behind him. Instead of entering through the garage, he leads her around the back to a covered porch and up through the French doors into an open kitchen and living room space. Stepping inside, she takes in the cozy scene.

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