Heart of Fire: a Moonbound World series (Witches of Whitewood Book 1)

M
attie Banfield fluttered
her hands over the pile of resumes and spoke the ancient words of the choosing spell. She gazed intently at the papers, but nothing happened.

A few seconds passed and, still, nothing. With a glance around the ranch office, she reached for her purse and pulled out her mother’s leather journal where the words were written.

“Of course,” she said, snapping the book closed. “I forgot to drop the antecedent.” Mattie cleared her throat and waved her hands again, saying the proper variation.

Papers fluttered on the hard, wooden desk, and one of them shot out. It sailed across the room and landed on the floor in front of the door.

She dropped the journal and ran over to pick it up. But her son’s boot stepped over the threshold and landed on the white sheet before she could reach it.

Brady looked down at her, a disapproving glare on his angular features. “Mom,” he whispered, shifting a glance back into the barn. “You’d better not be doing magick.”

“We can’t afford another Charity situation.” She reached for the paper, but Brady pressed his foot down just as she pulled on it. The resume stuck under his weight.

“That doesn’t mean you do magick.” His tone died down to a hiss on the final word, like it was dangerous to even say out loud.

“I’m protecting my family.” Mattie tugged at the paper. She hovered her hand over Brady’s boot and said another spell.

His foot lifted and the momentum sent him stepping backward. But like the athlete he was, he caught himself before he stumbled, and walked back into the office, slamming the door behind him.

“Mom. We talked about this.” He sighed and grabbed her arm, helping her up off the floor with reluctant obedience. “You can’t do magick in public. Anywhere.”

“It was just a quick spell.” She flashed the paper in front of his face. “It could’ve been the wind.”

“Inside a barn? On the second floor office that doesn’t have a window? And no fan? On a calm day, where—”

“Brady William Banfield.” She dropped her hands to her sides, frustration rising in her. “You don’t have to be condescending. I’m the parent here, not the other way around.”

“I know that.” He took off his cowboy hat and slid a hand along the back of his neck. “But magick, where strangers can see you...”

“It’s not like I was waving a wand and turning people into toads.”

“All it takes is
one
time.”

She fluttered her hand, dismissing this irrational fear he’d always had. “People will explain away anything they don’t understand. No one’s just going to assume… paper’s flying around? Must be magick.”

“Mom.” The hard edge of his tone left no room for argument.
He’s in a mood
.

“I had to do it. We had to find someone to replace Charity, and you interviewed all these people back in April. With Jamie’s first trail rides starting in three days, we don’t have time for a big process. This way, there’s no worrying.”

Brady’s bright eyes narrowed on her—so much of his father in him, even the apprehension. “And you’re gonna just trust the magick?”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because…well…there are other important things about hiring someone, besides just their resume.”

“Like what?”

“Like.” He smacked the hat against his blue-jeaned thigh. “Things, Mom.”

“Whatever it is, the magick will take care of it.”

“Dammit. You don’t understand.” He shook his head, glancing toward the window, his features turning dark. “I just don’t want a repeat of Charity.”

“That’s why I cast the spell.” She cocked her head to one side. “What is so important, you can’t tell me?

He shoved his hat on and walked forward with his hand out. “Just give it to me. I’ll call them again, whoever it is. If they’re crazy or high or something, they’re not coming on staff here, no matter what the magick says.”

Mattie handed over the resume, reading the top aloud. “Kyle Harris,” she said. “He sounds perfectly normal.”

“Yeah. So did Norman Bates.” The bite in his words was sharp and Mattie released the paper into his hands.

She’d have to let him discover for himself.

Magick was never wrong.

W
hen a guy goes
to work on a dude ranch, he kinda expects it to be run by…well, dudes. But the only two people Kyle Harris saw when he pulled up to the Silver Spring Ranch were women. And they were hot with a capital H-O-T.

Hot enough that it got a little toastier in his car. Kyle had big plans for spending long days at his new job out on the dusty trail with men he could consider his brothers. Like a John Wayne movie. Just the dirt and the wild and no distractions.

But being in the Colorado wilderness with two gorgeous women wouldn’t lead to any camaraderie among the men. Nor would it lead to silent nights around the campfire, eating beans from a can and drinking coffee from a tin cup while the coyotes yowled against the midnight sky.

At least, that’s how he imagined being a trail cook, but maybe he’d watched one too many spaghetti westerns as a kid.

Brady Banfield had been a little vague about the chef’s responsibilities, but cooking had been the primary test, and Kyle could do that with his eyes closed.

All his new boss had told him was to show up early Monday morning and they’d figure it out. When he’d applied back in April, there’d been a more rigorous process. This time, it was…
are you still free? Can you come Monday?

One of the women finally saw him and pulled the cowboy hat off her head. She wore an impossibly tiny white tank top that was stained with moisture. Her tight blue jeans didn’t leave much to his imagination. Although with her rounded curves, his imagination wouldn’t stop.

Every unfulfilled moment since the divorce crept up on him when two bright eyes fixed him in their sights. Her hair was dark, and the piled up ponytail made her look whimsical.

Shut up with the poetry, Harris.

Tank Top yelled something over her shoulder, and a tall, dark-haired man came out of the barn. He had sharp features and startling light-colored eyes. A striking presence.

The man wiped his brow on his sleeve and pointed alongside the corral toward several parked vehicles, yelling to both women. “Mom, come on.”

The woman in the t-shirt turned, and Kyle was surprised she looked older.
No.
He’d been ogling someone’s mother’s ass.
Damn, I need to get laid.

He parked and climbed out, grabbing his wallet and hat. The younger woman’s face had turned suddenly sour, and a tightness sat in Kyle’s throat. He hoped he wasn’t the focus of her wrath, because he had a feeling it would be considerable. Tank Top looked like a firecracker.

The man extended his hand. “Kyle?”

“In the flesh. Brady?”

“Yup.”

Their handshake was firm and lasted a few seconds while Brady seemed to size him up. His new boss was built like a linebacker, and the cut of his brow made him look perpetually angry.

This was a manhood test.

Tank Top didn’t seem particularly impressed with their stare down, and Kyle found himself wanting to make her smile, if only for a moment or two, so he released the shake with a laugh.

“It’s quite a trek up here. But you’ve got a nice corner up in this valley,” he said. “I’ve never been this far up into the Rockies.”

“Well, welcome to Silver Spring Ranch,” the older woman said. She put her hand on Brady’s shoulder and flashed a big smile. Definitely the mother. “We hope you like it.”

“Thanks, ma’am.” Kyle stepped back and appraised the whole family. “It’s good to be here. It was a shorter drive from Denver than I’d expected.”

“It’s a good thing you lived so close.” Tank Top crossed her arms and looked him up and down, too. “Brady fired my chef last week, and it was pretty short notice.”

His new boss slipped his arm around her shoulders with tightening lips. Maybe she was his wife, not his sister? They looked nothing alike.
Damn it
.

“Let’s not go through this again,” he said in a low voice.

Tank Top’s features constricted. “Well, if you hadn’t fired Charity, we wouldn’t have this problem in the first place.”

“I said, cool it, Jamie.” Brady brought her close to his face and dropped his voice to full gutteral. “You know the rules.”

“You’re just mad she chose Paul.”

The mother looped her arm through Jamie’s and smiled up at Kyle. “Well, I’m Matilda Banfield, but you can call me Mattie. And this is Jamie. And my son Paul is on his way back with the bus. So…” she cast a warning glance behind her, “let’s not forget, we’ve gotta get Kyle all settled before the guests arrive.”

Brady stepped forward and clapped Kyle on the shoulder. “I’ve gotta finish getting the wagons ready. Jame, you can take him back.” He glared at his wife-slash-sister-slash-who-knew. “He needs to get settled in.”

“I’ll prep the horses,” Jamie said with a flash of her green eyes. “
You
show around what’s-his-name.”

“His name is Kyle.” Brady’s voice got tighter each time he opened his mouth. “And he’s going to be
your
chef, so
you
show him around.”

“I only brought one bag, like you said.” He walked back toward his car, eager to get out from between the family feud. “It won’t take me long.”

“Jamie will take you back,” Brady said. “She knows where Charity kept everything.”

Kyle grabbed his duffle and locked the car. “Well, I’ve got my knives, and I’m ready to start.”

When he turned around, Jamie was standing with crossed arms, staring him down. This close, her eyes were almost like diamonds, sparkling against the dark, thick lashes that hid them. He could get lost in those eyes.

But he shouldn’t.

Whether she was his boss’s girl or not, it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with coworkers. Everyone knew that.

And that’s why there were no women on the cattle drives, John Wayne.
Close proximity plus isolation plus lust equaled sex. No matter who did the math.

* * *

J
amie let
the Neanderthal follow her. Like she couldn’t see him watching her from the clearing, all the way down the drive, and even in front of her brother and her mom. Typical man, perusing the women of the world like they were his for the picking.

He couldn’t fool her by trying to look the other direction when she glanced around to make sure he followed directions. He was, of course, taking full advantage of the opportunity to stare at her ass.

How different this walk was from the one she’d shared with Charity just a few months past. She’d known she’d be friends with the bubbly young blonde from moment one. This guy…he should pack up his car and head back to Denver.

They passed the old bunkhouse they’d renovated into staff quarters, but Jamie didn’t start the tour. She preferred to make him suffer under the weight of his giant green bag. He’d taken her best friend away, and he was a married man drooling over her ass like a letch. He deserved every hardship she could heap on him.

“Isn’t that the staff quarters?” Kyle asked.

When she turned around, he was halfway down the sidewalk to the bunkhouse.

“I’ll be right back. Let me drop my bag here.”

She crossed her arms and watched him amble down the woodchip sidewalk. Sure, he had a nice body. Long, solid tree trunk legs. Wide shoulders like a swimmer. His arms, veined and corded…And those hands.

Fine.
He was even mildly hot. Okay, more than mildly. Truth was, if he hadn’t been leering at her, she might’ve found him slightly…okay, majorly…seriously hot. He had a casualness that belied those intense blue eyes.

She did love a paradox.

Except the reason he got this job was that he was married. Brady’s secret rule he wouldn’t tell anyone about. Staff were off-limits. That was the public rule, especially after Paul had gotten a cook fired for what Brady insisted was unprofessional behavior. Fraternizing.

To Jamie, it just seemed uniquely male.

Lure in a woman with soft words and strong promises, get what you want, and then leave her hanging out to dry. That was about the speed of most men. She hated it was true about her brother too, but he couldn’t help his genetics.

And the new chef didn’t seem much different. All men who were this attractive were players.
Same-same.

Kyle emerged from the long cabin and gazed across the ranch from the outbuildings to the family house up the hill. His grin spread wider and wider with each move of his eyes. But when he laid eyes on her, something changed. With unfettered interest, he perused her body, then paused on her face and smiled again.

If only his
wife
were here to get a load of that.

“The kitchen is this way.” She turned and stalked up the hill toward the house, fully expecting him to stand on his heels and gawk at her ass for a while.

Instead, he was soon at her side, walking on the narrow path beside her. “Thanks for waiting.”

A quick pinch inside kept her silent. Her wait had been reluctant, to say the least, and
this was no way to treat a coworker
, her brother would say. Jamie finally inclined her head in his direction. “Long drive from Denver?”

“Only a couple hours. Wasn’t bad.”

“You from there?”

“Not originally, but I ended up there, I guess.” He stuffed big hands into his pockets. “My wife grew up there.” A quick shadow passed over his face, and he shook his head. “It’s a nice enough place, but I’m glad to get out of town.”

She tried to keep her mouth shut and pointed at the house as they approached. The main floors were built onto the side of the mountain, nestled up next to the white woods that soared high overhead. The sun peeked through on the eastern side, sending rays through the canopy.

“This is home. It’s been in our family for seventy-five years, and it’s the end of the residential part of the ranch. From here on out, it’s all country.”

“It looks pretty new to have been around for nearly a century.” A touch of humor laced his deep voice, but she wasn’t biting.

“It’s had some upgrades, but it’s mostly the same house that stood here when my granddad bought it before the war.”

As they approached the house, the path diverged. One side went right, toward the front door, and the other curved down the hill. Jamie walked to the left, and Kyle kept walking for a few steps without her before he realized she’d headed in a different direction. Jackass.
Too busy staring at my ass, still?

“We’re not going to the house?” His thick brows rounded over intense eyes, and she looked for a moment too long. He grinned as he followed her toward the back of the house.

She tried to keep her attention on the landscape as they crunched along the path. “The prep kitchen entrance and the chuck wagon storage is down the hill, in the back.” Jamie fished Charity’s old keys out of her pocket and held them in the air. “There’s a staircase up the side of the prep kitchen that goes into our home kitchen. You’ll be the only staff person with access to the house, since it’s where our family lives.”

Kyle took the keys and sifted through them.

She named them as he passed each one. “That’s the door key. The pantry. The ranch truck for supplies. The key to your bedroom in the bunkhouse. The key to the bunkhouse door. Oh, and that’s the safe. Brady keeps a safe in the kitchen where he stores all the staff credit cards you use to stock the pantry. You have to check them out of the safe when you go to town, and return them when you’re done.”

“Sounds like a good program.” He stuffed the key into the lock before Jamie could get hers out. He turned the knob and held the door open for her.

“You don’t have to hold doors for me and shit like that.” She stopped next to him, in the opening and waved him through. “I’m just a coworker. Don’t think of me as a woman at all.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” His voice dropped, darkened, melted.

Tension thickened the air between them, and Jamie held her breath. “Well, you’ll have to start.” She pushed at his shoulder, and he half-walked, half-fell through the door before her. “Or you won’t last long around here.”

But even she couldn’t ignore the charge he exuded. The strange juxtaposition between his seeming ease, and his evident intensity, almost as though he battled them both and wasn’t sure which would win in the end.

Kyle stepped toward her. “I won’t last long?”

“You know the rules, right? Not that I have to tell you, of course, because you’re married.”

His gaze focused in on her, and he leaned on the butcher block. “Rules?”

“Didn’t my brother tell you?”

“Your brother?”

“Brady. Your boss?” She sighed. “Brady made strict rules on these Singles Trips that guests are not allowed to fraternize with our staff. And the staff are not allowed to fraternize with each other.” She took a deep breath, and, as close as they were, the scent of him suddenly swallowed her.

He studied her face, and she froze. The closer their proximity, the more he magnetized her gaze and thoughts.
Damn the man. The freaking-married-man.

Kyle inclined his head, and a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. “Who told you I was married?”

“My brother said all the staff he hired from now on were going to have to be married.”

“Did he now.” He pulled his lips together and the slight movement of his tongue inside his mouth had her staring at those lips, that jaw…every gorgeous inch.