“Call me Beth, please. And thank you. I hope we haven’t put you out.”
Mrs. Harris waved the comment away and patted Beth on the shoulder. “Nonsense, this place needs some kids to liven it up. It’s too big and quiet for my taste. I have twelve grandchildren. So don’t worry about these two bothering me.”
Henry pushed past Beth’s legs, planted himself at Mrs. Harris’s feet, and focused on the white boxes. A string of drool dropped from the dog’s mouth onto the wide-planked floor.
“Go eat your kibble, Henry. Doughnuts aren’t good for dogs.”
The shepherd sighed and ambled over to a stainless steel bowl in the corner, but he kept one eye on the bakery box as he crunched through his dog food.
Beth set her stack of boxes on an outdated laminate counter-top. The kitchen was clean and spacious, but its décor was two decades past needing a remodel.
“Did you get some coffee, dear? It’s in the pot next to the refrigerator.” The housekeeper nodded at Ben and Katie, still standing at the kitchen’s entrance. “I’m Mrs. Harris.”
Beth stepped to their side and slid an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. The child leaned into her. “This is Ben and Katie.”
“I bet you’re hungry.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ben nodded. His eyes darted in Jack’s direction for a second. Katie stared at the floor.
“Then let’s get you some breakfast.” With one eye on the children still standing near the doorway, Mrs. Harris pulled a frying pan from the overhead rack and called over her shoulder. “Jack, shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
Beth poured coffee in a mug and took a sip. After yesterday’s java binge, her stomach cramped in protest. She set the mug on the counter.
“We have hours before we have to leave. The sun’s barely up,” Jack insisted. Mrs. Harris propped a fist on her hip, raised a brow, and stared at him. “OK then, I’ll go get dressed.” He folded his paper and grinned up at her. “Good to know someone’s in charge.”
“Someone has to be.” The housekeeper crossed her arms in mock authority, but Beth could tell she fought a smile.
“Game, set, and match to Mrs. Harris.” Jack heaved to his feet and tucked the crutch under his arm. Swinging forward, he leaned down to Beth and lowered his voice. His breath caressed her neck. “You can expect us to return at about ten. The family’ll stay for a couple of hours. The coast should be clear by one.”
She forced herself not to move, but her spine stiffened as he loomed over her. A woodsy aftershave drifted down and teased her senses. For a moment, she felt the heat from his body just inches from her skin. The flutter in her belly had nothing to do with the coffee and disconcerted her as much as his proximity. To her surprise, instead of recoiling, her body leaned a centimeter closer to his, as if pulled by a huge magnet.
Unsettled by his size and shocked by her response, she acknowledged his statement with a tight nod before stepping away. Moving past the scarred table, she stopped in front of the French doors. Her eyes skimmed over the vista. Forest fringed a broad expanse of sloping lawn shaded by towering oak trees. In the distance, a valley dipped off to the right, revealing a glassy lake through the trees. Beyond, green and brown mountain peaks and valleys rimmed the horizon.
The secluded nature of the estate had appealed to her two weeks ago when she’d stood in this very kitchen, but Daniel O’Malley’s death had changed everything. The safety she’d perceived here was an illusion, a mirage that had evaporated the moment she arrived yesterday. She felt like she was lost in the desert, unsure whether safety lay ahead or behind her. Her life, and those of her children, depended on her making the right choice. That is, if she even had one. So far this morning, Jack hadn’t mentioned the will, her job, or anything at all about her possible future on the estate. He just might make that decision for her. Then what?
“What are your plans this morning, Beth?” Jack’s deep voice sounded behind her. His voice startled her out of her thoughts. She thought he’d already left the room. Had he just been standing there staring at her?
“The kids like horses, so we’ll spend the morning in the barn if that’s all right.”
“That’s fine.” Jack nodded. “Let me know if they look OK. One of the neighbors has been looking after them since Uncle Danny died, but I don’t know the guy very well. And I know absolutely nothing about horses.”
“OK.” Maybe if she showed him she was capable of taking care of the horses, he’d keep her on as caretaker.
Finished with his breakfast, Henry barked and scratched at the French door. Jack pulled it open and let him out with a sigh. “It would be helpful if you kept the dog with you. He’s hell on a buffet table.” He turned and limped toward an open doorway at the rear of the kitchen. Halfway through, he paused. “We’ll talk later.”
That’s what she was afraid of.
After a quick breakfast, Beth led the kids to the French doors off the kitchen. Jack and Mrs. Harris had withdrawn to prepare for the funeral. Standing to one side, she peered through the glass panes and scanned the open area of grass and the tree line beyond. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. She opened the door and listened. The quiet was punctuated only by the rustle of the morning breeze through the woods and the chirping of a robin.
Unfortunately, there were dozens of places to hide between the house and the barn.
She stepped through the doorway and out onto the patio. The kids and the dog followed. Beth kept one eye on Henry. Would he know if someone was waiting out there?
A path led through a small copse to the barn and pasture. The air smelled organic, redolent with the heavy odor of grass layered over clean pine. Fifty yards from the barn, Henry spotted a squirrel and tore off through the woods. The squirrel raced up a tree. Henry ran circles around the base and barked.
Ben turned off the path. “I’ll go get him.”
“Me too.” Katie skipped after her brother, breaking into a jog to keep up with his longer strides. Ben took her hand.
“Don’t go any farther than that tree and stay together,” Beth called after them.
Ben waved over his shoulder. It was already clear that both kids enjoyed the freedom afforded them by the estate’s seclusion.
Beth strode into the cool barn and smiled at the welcoming nicker. A head bobbed over the half door of the closest stall. An impatient hoof rang against wood. The smell of hay and sawdust reminded her of the time before Brian’s death, when she’d had time for hobbies like the horseback riding that had been a part of her life since her teen years. Long before Richard’s deceit had destroyed their lives.
A shadow to her left moved and Beth jumped.
“Hello.” A figure stepped out of a doorway.
Beth’s heart seized. “Oh.” She placed a palm over her pounding chest.
The neighbor. Please let this be the neighbor.
He was in his early thirties, on the short side and slight of build. His red short-sleeved polo shirt was buttoned all the way up the front and emphasized his ruddy complexion. For Christ sakes, chill. A pocket protector away from nomination to the Geek Squad, this fellow hardly looked like a threat.
“I’m Jeff Stevens. My farm is just over the hill there.” He pointed to the buttercup-dotted meadow that rose on the other side of the barn. Sweat beaded his brow. “Are you all right?”
Get a grip. “Just surprised, that’s all.” So much for Henry’s superior canine hearing.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and slouched. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s fine. I’m Beth.” She backed out of the aisle into the sunlight. In the open space of the barnyard, she took a deep breath. She knew she should probably explain who she was and what she was doing in the barn, but she hardly knew herself. She just hoped he wouldn’t ask. “Jack said his neighbor was taking care of the horses.”
“That’s what neighbors are for. I liked Danny.” Jeff followed. Sunlight glared off his ba
lding head as he stared at his work boots. “I just finished feeding the horses. Waiting for them to finish their breakfast so I can turn them out.”
Beth forced a smile. “I can do that this morning. I’m here anyway.”
“OK.” As he raised his eyes to her face, they paused fleetingly on her breasts. Then his face flushed as he stammered. “D-do you want me to show you where everything is before I go?”
She hesitated. Had that been a leer? Beth did not like the idea of being alone in the barn with him, but it wasn’t his fault she was paranoid. He was Jack’s neighbor. He didn’t work for Richard. “I’d appreciate that, thanks.” She stepped toward him.
Henry shot across the clearing, barking. He bounded up to Beth, jumped up, and placed both paws on her chest. She stumbled backward. “Henry, relax.”
The shepherd circled her legs and head butted her hip, putting his body between Beth and the neighbor.
“I’m sorry, Jeff. He’s a little rambunctious.”
“It’s all right,” Jeff insisted, but he moved back a half step and frowned at Henry. “He could use some obedience training.”
Ben jogged up and grabbed the dog’s collar, pulling him away from Beth. “He’s mad. The squirrel wouldn’t come down.”
Katie ran up beside her brother. When she saw Jeff, she ducked behind Ben and the dog.
Beth blew out a breath. The man was going to get suspicious if they all cowered away from him. And, really, he was only trying to be helpful.
Jeff stared at the kids and opened his mouth. Beth cut him off before he asked to be introduced. She didn’t like to give out their names if it wasn’t necessary. “You were going to show me around the barn.”
“Yes.” Jeff brightened and straightened his shoulders. “I was.”
Henry strained at the hold on his collar. Ben’s feet slid a few inches in the dirt. “Give it up, Henry. You’re never gonna catch that squirrel, buddy.”
Inside the barn, a horse’s kick rattled a loose door.
Jeff turned toward the barn. “Probably Lucy. She’s impatient.”
“We’re coming,” Beth called out as she followed him inside, waving gnats away from her face. Behind her, the dog whined and Ben talked to him in a low voice.
Jeff stopped at a doorway. “The feed’s in here.” He continued down the dirt aisle, pointing out the tack room and the ladder that led to the loft. An elegant chestnut head poked out of the first stall as they approached.
“This is Lucy. She was Danny’s favorite.” Jeff reached up and scratched the mare under her forelock. Lucy rubbed her nose against his chest.
“She’s beautiful.” Beth stepped up and patted the side of the animal’s sleek neck. The warm, horsey smell eased the tension from her shoulders.
“Lucy’s the only one that’s a handful to ride. The three geldings are fat and lazy.” Jeff’s gaze caught on her breasts again, and he blushed all the way up to his sparse, receding hairline. OK, that had definitely been a leer. Beth stepped backward and crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously as he introduced her to the other horses. An engraved nameplate hung on each stall door. Smaller identification tags were fastened on the side of each animal’s leather halter.
“Thanks so much, Jeff.” She stroked the mare’s nose as Lucy nibbled at her T-shirt. Beth gently pushed the muzzle away. “What kind of farm do you have?”
“I train dressage horses.”
“Really?” Beth was impressed. Dressage was the equivalent of ballet or gymnastics on horseback. Jeff must be a skilled horseman.
“I sold a gelding in ‘05 that went on to the Olympic trials last year.” Jeff’s chest puffed out just a little.
“That’s amazing.”
He blushed at the compliment. “I guess I’ll be going then. Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything. I’ll be back tonight.”
“OK. Thanks again.” Beth followed him to the back door, where a beat-up Jeep Wrangler was parked in the shadow of the building. He climbed in, started the engine, and drove across the meadow with a short wave. The jeep’s engine rumble faded. Beth breathed in the scent of warm summer grass and wildflowers.
If she could stay here, she wouldn’t have to deal with strangers every day, just one odd, mildly perverted, and socially inept neighbor. At James’s tavern each new customer had been a potential threat. What would it be like to not have her heart seize twenty times a day?
But what was Jack going to say? It appeared as if he were in charge, but had he inherited the estate? Regardless, surely someone needed to look after the place, at least in the short term. He said he knew nothing about horses, so that someone wasn’t going to be Jack. She found herself hoping there might be a place for her and the kids here.
Suddenly Beth was looking forward to their afternoon discussion. She was tired of being in limbo. But would he answer the ten-thousand-dollar question?
Would Jack let them stay?
CHAPTER THREE
“I’m surprised you’re still here.” Jack winced as pain pulsed through his leg. Around the house he managed fine with one crutch, but the uneven ground of the barnyard was a different story. It didn’t help that, courtesy of yesterday’s scotch infusion, he felt like the sun was boring holes directly through his retinas into the back of his skull.
Beth brushed the gleaming shoulder of a large brown horse tied to the fence in the shade of a tree. Since he’d just gotten off the phone with the attorney, he supposed it was his large brown horse. The animal seemed bigger now that he was up close and personal with it. And it smelled like shit. Literally.
“I said I would be.” Beth glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes for a split second. Sweat glistened on her forehead and had darkened the back of her T-shirt. She swallowed, her gaze darting to her children a dozen yards away. In the shade of a mature oak, Ben groomed a black horse with a speckled patch of white across its rump. On the other side of the tree, Katie sat on the ground with Henry.
The kids had been talking and laughing before Jack drove up, but as soon as he walked into the barnyard, they’d fallen into complete silence. The boy kept one wary eye on him and the little girl refused to look at him at all. Just like this morning in the kitchen, when the children had nearly climbed the wall to get as far away as possible from him. Normal kids weren’t afraid to walk into rooms. Normal kids weren’t this meek and quiet. He’d felt like an ogre, especially when Mrs. Harris told him later that they’d settled in fine after he’d left the kitchen.
The afternoon sun beat down on the top of his head. He wiped his brow on his sleeve and sidestepped into the very edge of shade, trying not to get too close to the horse. His toe caught on a rock, twisting his leg. Fire shot through his knee. He breathed through his nose and waited for the pain to recede to a manageable throb.
Crinkling her brow, Beth nodded toward his leg. “Shouldn’t you stay off that?”
“It’s OK.” She was right. He should have his leg elevated and packed in ice. But he’d already sucked up his pride driving the short distance to the barn in Danny’s golf cart. Interviewing his prospective new employee from the sofa would make him feel like total waste of space. A man could only take so much humiliation.
She looked doubtful but turned her attention back to grooming the horse, continuing to run the brush rhythmically along the length of its neck.
“I’ve decided to accept the terms of my uncle’s will.”
He watched Beth’s hand freeze mid-sweep as she waited for him to continue. The arm that poked out of her T-shirt sleeve was way too thin, but her worn jeans hugged a nicely curved ass.
“Which makes me the new owner of this estate,” he added.
She jolted back into action without a word, moving away from him, down the horse’s body to clean its belly with long strokes.
Most nervous people were prone to chatter. He’d questioned hundreds of scared people: criminals, victims, and everything in-between. Beth had clearly learned to control her emotions somewhere along t
he line. But when? And why?
When silence didn’t provoke a comment, Jack prodded her for a response. “I thought you’d want to know that you still have a job. If you want it, that is.”
“Really?” Beth stopped and turned to face him.
Daylight brought out the pallor of her skin and emphasized the dark circles under those fascinating green eyes. Had she looked this exhausted last night? Maybe if he hadn’t been totally shit-faced, he’d be able to remember. He must have made a great first impression. Regret nagged at him.
Way to go, O’Malley.
She lowered her voice. “You don’t have to do that. You don’t even know me.”
“Uncle Danny hired you. That’s good enough for me.” He gestured to the beast standing behind her. “Obviously you can handle the horses. What sort of responsibilities did you and my uncle discuss?” The employment letter Danny had given her was ridiculously vague.
“I have some bookkeeping experience. He wanted me to get estimates for a new roof and some landscaping.”
As if unhappy with her lapse in attention, the horse bumped her with its nose. The nudge nearly knocked her off her feet. Without turning, she reached back and patted its neck.
“All of those things still need to be done,” Jack pointed out. “I’ve never even owned a house.”
“I don’t know.” She turned back to the horse, leaning into a bucket of supplies to exchange the brush for a small metal pick.
Was she going to turn him down? And what was the deal with this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach?
“How about a trial period? Say two weeks? We’ll see how it works out for all of us. Then if you’re not happy here, I’ll have time to find someone else for the job.” Jack held his breath as she bent down to lift the horse’s hoof. The waistband of her jeans sagged, revealing the top band of a black satin thong. Jack’s brain short-circuited and redirected his blood flow south.
Shit. How was he supposed to talk to her now?
As she cleaned all four hooves, Jack averted his eyes and tried to remember the score of last week’s Phillies’ game. The image had little effect on the pornographic slide show running through his head. With the horse in the background, Jack’s mind added a cowboy hat and boots to the stripper ensemble his brain had superimposed on Beth. What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn’t gotten laid in months, since before the accident, but his response to Beth was way out of whack.
She Can Run Page 3
