Loving The Country Boy (Barrett's Mill Book 4) by Mia Ross Page B

know?”
    “Isn’t this enough?” Jason added a wry grin. “If you’re looking for more of a challenge, we could go break something else for you.”
    “No, I’m good. Just get outta my way and let me work.”
    Laughing, they turned and went back to the rough-cut station. The massive saw hanging in its stocks looked as if it could take down a whole forest if you left it running, and Heath marveled at how deftly they operated the lethal-looking machine. He was pretty coordinated himself, but you couldn’t have paid him enough to run that thing.
    Inside, he started with a pile of rags and enough degreaser to choke an elephant. When the equipment was as clean as he could get it, he stood in front of the parallel saw runs and studied the works carefully. Long leather belts were looped over a complex system of pulleys and rollers, leading down to the floor where they were engaged by a wooden lever that went through an opening in the floor to the waterwheel.
    Based on very grim experience, he knew this setup was a tragedy waiting to happen. Grabbing an empty cardboard box, he broke it down to form a shield that he placed over the handle and nailed to the wall behind it. In the storeroom he found some huge markers used for labeling boxes. He snagged one and finished his safety warning in large, bold letters.
    DO NOT USE WHEEL—HEATH
    He was adding the date when he heard soft footsteps coming up behind him. Turning, he saw Tess, carrying an armful of leather-bound books and wearing what appeared to be a pair of well-loved leather moccasins. Hoping to break their icy impasse, he chuckled. “I’m thinking that’s not the look your Beverly Hills designer was after.”
    To his great relief, she laughed and held out her foot to admire the slipper. “I found them under the old woodstove in the office. I thought they worked.”
    “What happened to your fancy Italian shoes?”
    “One of the heels is broken. And they’re from Paris, thank you very much.” The sassy tone went perfectly with the spark in her eyes, and he was glad to see she seemed to have recovered from their earlier skirmish. He just wished he could say the same about himself.
    If he brought it up, she’d have the perfect opening to blast him again. But he’d obviously hurt her, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t at least try to make things right with her.
    Moving toward her, he took a deep breath and braced himself for a good old-fashioned dressing down. “Tess, I was outta line earlier. I’m real sorry.”
    As if he’d flipped some unseen switch, her eyes narrowed with that infamous Barrett temper, and she met him in the middle of the floor. Most folks were intimidated by his size, whether or not they’d come out and admit it. But not this woman, he noticed with honest admiration. They were steel toe to moccasin, staring at each other, and she hadn’t even flinched.
    “No one talks to me that way,” she informed him in a calm voice that seemed very much at odds with her steely glare. Then, in the space it took him to blink, that harsh look mellowed into something else entirely, and she gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
    “Excuse me?” Having prepared himself for a scolding, he was convinced he hadn’t heard that right.
    “I needed to hear it, but the family walks on eggshells around me, afraid to say the wrong thing. I’m sure they’ll appreciate you taking the hit for them,” she added with a wry grin.
    “So you’re not mad?”
    “Oh, I’m mad,” she corrected him sweetly. “But you were right, and I’m grown up enough to admit that.”
    Considering how badly their touchy conversation might have gone, this result suited him much better. Heath decided it was best to leave things as they were and move forward from here. Tapping one of the ledgers she held, he asked, “What’re these?”
    “Maintenance logs for everything from the old adding machines to these monsters in here. They go back to when the