Counting Stars (A Donnelley Brother's Novel) by Alannah Carbonneau Page B

here.”
    “Fuck.” He swiped his
large hand over his head. “Reese, if I can’t trust you to listen to
me out here, then I’m going to have to take you back to the
ranch.”
    I scoffed. “I’m not
going anywhere, Logan. If you want to go back to the ranch, then
go, but I’m staying here.”
    His eyes darkened with
challenge. “Don’t test me, city girl. I’ve carried a woman farther
than the land we’d have to cover to get back to the ranch.”
    I felt my eyes skim over
his fit body and I had no doubt that he would be able to carry me
so far. If I were unconscious. However, if he made a step to carry
me back to the ranch, I would fight him. This was my one chance to
heal and I would be damned if I allowed him to take it away from
me.
    “I’ll listen to you,
Logan. Don’t get yourself all twisted over something so
insignificant.”
    His eyes sharpened on my
face. “Your safety is a lot of things to me, Reese. Insignificant
isn’t one of them.”
    At his words, something
inside of me warmed. That was the nicest thing Logan had said to me
since I’d met him the night before. So much had happened in
twenty-four hours. My heart had gone through so much more than I
ever thought it could handle.
    Quietly, I replied. “I’m
starving.” I pointed to the bucket where the gutted, headless fish
had been placed. “How do you cook it?”
    I watched as he glanced
at the bucket before replying. “Well, you’re going to prepare it
with me. Normally I use mayo, fresh lemon, and dill. But since
we’re all the way out here with limited seasoning, we only have
dried lemon and dill mix with a bit of olive oil to work with.”
    I scrunched my nose in
disgust as he brought the bucket closer to me and I got a good look
at the mutilated fish. I covered my nose. “Oh God,” I shook my
head. “What kind of fish is that?”
    Logan’s eyes flickered
to land on my face and a slow grin spread on his face. “This is a
Trout. You better get used to it, city girl. You’ll be cleaning
tomorrows dinner.”
    “I will?” I rubbed my
lower belly where it usually flipped when I was uncomfortable or
disgusted. “I mean, I can’t—do—that.”
    Logan chuckled. “Ah,” he
placed the bucket on the ground beside the fire. “Grab the
seasoning kit from the small pouch on the front of your pack, will
you?”
    Eager to get away from
the gutted fish, I jogged to grab the seasoning kit from my pack in
the tent. When I returned, I carefully handed it to Logan before
stepping back. He raised a brow at me but didn’t say anything.
    After what felt like a
few minutes of silence had passed, I asked, “What?”
    “You wanted to learn,
city girl.” He stated matter of fact. “You’ll never learn over
there.”
    “I take it back.” I
crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t want to learn anymore.”
    “Get over here.” Logan
commanded and I stiffened. I wasn’t used to a man commanding me
about and I didn’t take well to it.
    “Don’t tell me what to
do.” I retorted through tightly clenched teeth.
    He sighed. “If you don’t
get over here, Reese, then we won’t be eating tonight. Or the next
night, or the next, or the next, until you get over whatever you’re
bothered by and help me prepare the fish.”
    “Logan,” His name was a
breathy plea on my lips. “Please, I can’t,”
    “I took this fish’s life
so we could eat, Reese.” His eyes bored into mine. “If you make me
waste it, I won’t be happy with you. Out here, we don’t waste food
and we definitely don’t waste life.”
    Blinking, I nodded. His
words were cruel, and yet, they made sense. Despite the revulsion I
felt toward the open body of the poor fish, I didn’t want to waste
it. Logan had killed it for us to eat—and although I had never
agreed with any form of hunting—because I hadn’t been introduced to
it—I did eat meat (store bought). I recognized my hypocrisy in this
and I intended to rectify it immediately. Logan hadn’t killed