Taming the Brooding Cattleman. Marion Lennox

heaps of food in the kitchen,’ he told her. ‘You’ve done a decent day’s work. Head back up and get some rest.’

      She shook her head. She’d been carrying a sweater when she arrived. She’d laid it aside at the edge of the clearing. She went to it now, and retrieved a parcel from under it.

      A water bottle and a packet of sandwiches. Neater than the ones he’d made.

      ‘How did you know …?’

      ‘You left the sandwich bread and the cutting board on the sink,’ she said. ‘It didn’t take Einstein to figure sandwiches had been made. I figured if you were avoiding plumbers, I would, too.’

      ‘I’m not avoiding plumbers.’

      ‘Avoiding me, then? You want to tell me what you have against women?’ She bit into her sandwich, making it a casual question. Like it didn’t matter.

      ‘I don’t have anything against women. I just assumed you couldn’t be up to the job.’