Hold You In My Arms (Stevens book 9)

Chapter 1

Fiona Stevens looked at her haggard expression in the mirror before opening the medicine cabinet. Life had not gone as she had planned, she thought, releasing a deep sigh as she reached for the liniment cream to rub on her bruises.

She had not planned to spend her life working a ranch, mucking stalls, and taming horses. She placed her hands on the sink and bowed her head as she fought tears one more time. All she seemed to do lately was fight tears.

The ranch was understaffed, and as the woman in charge and the only woman on staff, Fiona felt that no one was ever on her side. She was alone in a sea of cowboys who believed that her father should not have left her in charge. Every day was a battle for control, and as a naturally shy person, it was a stressful existence.

Once again, Fiona's despondent attitude quickly turned to anger that was directed at herself. She was an adult. If her parents could do this, she could do this!

'But your parents had each other,' a little voice in her head reminded her. It was the same little voice that liked to sneak up on her at night and remind her that she was alone and no one was coming to save her.

Mad at herself and the world, Fiona slammed the medicine cabinet, causing the mirror to crack.

She jumped, and her eyes widened in fear when she saw a man reflected in the mirror behind her. 

With her heart beating erratically, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she thought that she had finally snapped and lost her mind. Her loneliness had conjured up the one dream that had been constant in her life.

Henry Mercer.

"Careful, that's seven years bad luck," the deep warm voice said, causing her to jump again.

Fiona spun around and saw that he was still standing in the doorway, his ballcap in his hand. He wasn't a figment of her imagination. She swallowed hard as they stared at each other while the silence between them stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

Henry looked as handsome and dangerous as ever.  His dark eyes watched her from a tan face covered in a shaggy beard. His dark hair was a little unkempt and made him look younger than his thirty-six years. He was wearing a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt that showed off his muscles.

A memory of Henry the last time she had seen him popped in her mind. He had been clean-cut and wearing the dress blues of the Navy. It had been at her grandmother's memorial service, and Fiona had done her best to avoid him. Her tongue-tied self hadn't a clue how to talk to the devastating man, and she still didn't as she continued to stare at him silently.

"I'm so deep in bad luck, what's a little more?" she asked, ending long-drawn-out silence. She had taken so long to respond it was now an awkward reply, but then awkward was her life.

"Your father said you might need a hand around here. I have some time to help. He also told me where the key was in case I got in and you weren't around." Henry's deep voice was calm and matter of fact, stating the answer to the questions that she should have asked first.

Damn it!

Fiona didn't know what to say. She did need the help, and he was the answer to a prayer, but she didn't want Henry to see her floundering as she tried to survive another day.

Needing to focus on something while she thought of what she wanted most, she turned her back to him and unscrewed the cap to the liniment cream, wrinkling her nose at the foul smell.

She dipped her finger in the cold pudding-like substance and lifted her white tank-top slightly to rub it on her side, wincing as she touched the bruise.