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What a hell of a ride she’d been on these past few days!

She was grateful to see, as well, that there was an en-suite bathroom that was equipped with several towels and complimentary toiletries almost as if they had been expecting her. She stood in the doorway to the bathroom, her skin itching, already able to feel the comfort of the hot water running over her body.

Clint seemed to see the desire on her face. He cleared his throat, gesturing for the guys who’d followed them into the room to back out again, herding them like a group of cattle. “Why don’t we give you some space,” he suggested, practically pushing the other blond out of his way.

“Thank you.”

He lowered his head just slightly before closing the door behind him. Lea could hear them out in the hallway, voices raised in protest—for what, she couldn’t quite guess—but then the voices slowly faded. She turned back to the bathroom, more than anxious to tackle that shower. Damn, it would be good to get out of these clothes!

***

“What the hell are we doing?” Landry asked the question before Westin could give voice to it, but he could see on the faces of the others that the two of them weren’t the only ones wondering.

They gathered outside the old bunkhouse, standing in a semicircle around Clint. He kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot, huddling in his jacket as the wind blew the freezing air against his skin. He was quiet for a long time, almost too long, making the others bounce on their heels as they waited.

“The woman needs help.” Clint shook his head. “We got her in this situation. We should help get her out of it.”

Everyone seemed to toss a glance in Remington’s direction, but he had no response either. No one seemed to be too eager to stand up on this one today.

“What about Miss Dulcie?” Westin asked. “What are we supposed to tell her?”

Clint shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I’ll talk to her. Tell her we overbooked or something.”

“And then?” Landry asked. “How long are we going to keep her here? Are we just going to set her up in that room and forget about her?”

“No. We’ll have to take turns keeping an eye on her.” Clint squinted up into the sky. “That guy… he could come back, cause her some trouble.”

“He can’t get onto the ranch without someone knowing about it,” Bowie pointed out.

“Yeah, but who’s going to tell us about him if they don’t know to be on the lookout for him?” Clint glanced over his shoulder almost as if he could see into her room from where he stood. “No. One of us will have to be with her at all times, because we’re the only ones who know what this fellow looks like.”

“Barely,” Westin commented. “We only saw him for a few minutes.”

“You have an idea.”

“We don’t know anything about her,” Remington pointed out. “We should find out who he was, what he was doing. Find out what kind of trouble we’ve invited here.”

“You mean you invited here.” Landry shoved Remington playfully on the shoulder. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if not for you.”

Remington lowered his head. “True. But this might not be a bad thing. Maybe this could become a side gig.”

“What are you talking about?”

Remington rubbed his chin. “Well, you know, a lot of ranch hands make extra money working security in the city. We could do that, but do it right here on the ranch.”

“Doing what? Pimping ourselves out as bodyguards?” Westin asked.

“Sure. Personal security pays pretty well, and we get a lot of rich assholes up here all year round.” Remington jerked his shoulders even as he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “I made four thousand bucks last month when that fellow sent his daughter out here for the ‘Cowboy Experience.’ Paid me to keep an eye out for her, keep her on the ranch. Easiest money I ever made.”

“You did that?” Westin glanced at Clint, saw him shrug in affirmation. “And you let him? What happened to that rule about taking extra money from the clients?”

“That’s just when it comes to tips and shit like that,” Landry said. “No one said anything about fetching fast food from town, or offering other, more pleasurable services.” Landry winked, alluding to one of his favorite pastimes, something everyone knew about because there wasn’t a night during the tourist season when one of them hadn’t caught Landry with a female guest somewhere on the ranch. Westin himself had caught him less than a month ago doing the deed with some girl in the barn.

Westin backed away from the group, raising his hands. “You can count me out. I’m not getting wrapped up in some idiotic scheme. As far as I’m concerned, all these rich bitches can drown in their fancy perfumes and hundred-dollar bottles of wine.”

“Wait, Westin!” Clint snagged his elbow, pulled him back into the semicircle. “You’ve got to stay with this girl right now. Everyone else has stuff to do to get ready for the incoming tourists. You’re the only one with a free morning.”

“Yeah—free morning. That means I get to do whatever the hell I want.”