Page 20 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess

Her fingers closed around mine.

I steadied her while she climbed in. Her hand was smaller than I expected, her nails cool against my palm. She released me as soon as she reached the seat and adjusted her skirt over her thighs.

I shut the door and headed around the hood before I could keep looking.

The road required both hands and more attention than I’d given it the night before. Sunlight flashed through the pines, bright on the dust and dry needles along the shoulders. I kept the truck slow over the washed-out sections.

Talia braced one hand against the dash when we dropped into a rut.

“This road has a personal problem with me,” she said.

“It treats everyone the same.”

“That doesn’t improve my experience.”

“No, but it means you aren’t being singled out.”

“I’m practicing not taking that personally.”

“You’re doing well.”

She tipped her head toward me. “Was that encouragement?”

“It was an observation.”

“I’ll take it.”

A mile farther down, the trees opened around a wide strip of cleared ground. Cut brush had been stacked away from thetrunks, and the lower branches were gone from the pines nearest a small house.

Talia turned in her seat. “Did you do that?”

“I finished it yesterday.”

“What was wrong with the trees?”

“Nothing. The growth underneath them was too dense, and the branches were low enough to carry fire upward.”

“You cut all of that alone?”

“I had help hauling.”

“From Cade?”

“Sometimes. He repairs my smaller equipment too.”

She looked out the side window. “That’s going to be awkward.”

“Yes.”

Another property appeared below us, with deadfall cleared from the slope and a fresh break through the brush.

“You did that one too,” she said.

“Last month.”

“How many houses do you take care of?”

“I don’t take care of the houses.”