“Want to try?”
Rain looked at the brush, then at the huge animal. She should have been afraid, should have shrank back against the stall door but something told her she had nothing to fear.
“Come on,” he urged. “She’s a sweetheart. She won’t hurt you.”
“Maybe not,” she said as she gingerly stepped into the stall and slipped her hand through the strap of the brush. “But she’s going to need a little time to get used to me.”
“Nice gentle strokes,” he instructed in a soothing voice as he carefully guided her hand over the horse’s coat.
As though sensing the touch of a stranger, the horse reacted. Turning its head, it glared back at Rain and snorted.
“Sycamore, be polite,” Joe scolded, moving Rain’s hand over the animal again. Leaning close, he whispered into her ear. “Just keep stroking. Don’t let her bully you.”
Rain was nervous, but it had nothing to do with being in such close proximity to the spirited animal. With Joe standing behind her, with his hand on hers and his body brushing hers it was all she could to think about the horse at all.
“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” he praised as she slid the brush along the satiny hide. “See how relaxed she’s become?”
Rain drew in a shaky breath. “I’m glad one of us is.”
“You’re doing fine,” he insisted, stepping back a few paces.
With him not so close, she relaxed a little, too. She realized he had mistaken her uneasiness for nerves about the horse, but that was just fine with her. He didn’t need to know having him so close had made her jumpier than Sycamore’s nervous snorts. “So how do I make sure she doesn’t just decide she’s had enough and puts a hoof down on one of my toes?”
“You keep your eyes open,” he advised in a wry tone. “And be prepared to move out of the way—as fast as you can.”
Despite her uneasiness, she had to laugh. She continued brushing Sycamore, stroking with more assurance the more relaxed she became. The horse had become almost sedate and Rain had to admit there was something soothing and serene about the activity. The horse’s coat shone like satin and felt silky against the palm of her hand.
“You do this every day?”
He nodded, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the closed stall door. “Several times during the day when I can. Horses take work and I don’t always have enough time myself so I have someone who helps me. He’s here every day—Charlie Evers, I’ll introduce you.”
She nodded as she continued to brush. She wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but somehow she’d managed to brush her way around to the other side of the horse.
“Labor of love?” she asked, looking at him from over the top of the horse.
“Absolutely,” he admitted. “But you’ve got to love it to be in the horse business. Otherwise why bother?” He pushed himself away from the door and walked around Sycamore to where Rain stood. “And I think you’ve managed to spoil her enough for one day.”
“I don’t know about spoiling her,” she said, slipping her hand free from the strap. Reaching up, she even felt bold enough to give the horse a pat on the nose. “But she does seem a little more used to me now.”
“Oh, I think it’s safe to say she’s got your number,” he commented, taking the brush from her and returning it to the hook on the wall. “Just notice the difference in the way she greets you next time you come in.”
He opened the stall door, holding it open for her and securing the lock once she’d passed through.
“You know how back in the kitchen I said something in the pantry seemed familiar?” she asked, stopping as they started out of the stables.
“Yeah.”
“I have that same feeling about horses.”
“Oh, yeah? You think you might have worked around horses?”
“I don’t know about that,” she admitted, “but I do know I must have forgotten one very important thing.”
“Oh, yeah? What would that be?”
With a purposeful move, she looked down at her borrowed tennis shoe. “Watch where you’re walking.”
“Oh, my, now that’s not a pretty sight.”
“Not a pretty sight at all,” she agreed with a sigh, not knowing whether she wanted to laugh or burst into tears.
He glanced down at her shoes again, then slowly nodded his head. “Yup, I think you’re right.” Taking her hand, he led her back into the stable. “When it comes to horses, you just might be a greenhorn.”
“How you doing in here? Feel okay?”
Rain looked up from the file cabinet. “I feel great.”
Joe couldn’t help thinking that she looked pretty great, too, but he refrained from voicing that observation. “Not too tired?”
She shook her head as she pushed in one file drawer and pulled out another. “Not at all. I’m just about through here.”
“You’re kidding.” Joe glanced at the top of the file cabinet where a huge stack of folders had accumulated over the last week, surprised to see its size had shrunk considerably. She was supposed to just answer the phones, but somehow she’d managed to get most of their filing done, too. “You’re doing too much. Maybe you should sit down and rest for a little while.”
“What? Don’t be silly, I’m fine. This is nothing,” she said, waving off his concern. “It’s just a little filing—basic ABCs.”
“But it’s not necessary for you to get it all done today. Cruz warned you not to overdo.”
“Believe me, this is not overdoing,” she assured him, reaching for another file from the diminishing stack. “In fact, I’m enjoying myself.”
“You enjoying filing?” he commented skeptically. “I find that hard to believe.”
She looked up at him and grinned. “Well, believe it. I enjoy it. Who knows, maybe I’m a secretary or a librarian.”
Joe found that he was grinning back and felt foolish. Clearing his throat, he forced the smile from his face. “How about a cup of coffee then? Could I bring you a cup?”
“You’re the boss,” she pointed out. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”
He shrugged. “It’s your first day. I thought I’d go easy on you.”
She laughed. “Well, I appreciate it. And no, you don’t need to bring me any coffee. I just finished one and I had two cups at breakfast in case you didn’t notice.”
He’d noticed. In fact, he’d noticed a lot of things about her in the twenty-four hours since she’d come to stay with him. They’d made it through their first day—and first night—under the same roof but it hadn’t been without a few awkward moments.
After he’d given her the Cook’s tour of the house and stables, she’d gone to her room and pretty much kept to herself for the rest of the day. She’d come downstairs only once, at his prompting, to join him for a light dinner only to beat it back to her room where she’d stayed until this morning.
“Apparently I’m a coffee drinker,” she continued, slipping a folder into the file drawer and pushing it closed. “Or at least I am now. Would you like me to bring you a cup, though? I just made a fresh pot about ten minutes ago.”
“You made coffee?” His voice perked up.
The smile faded from her lips. “The pot was empty. I hope that was all right.”
“Are you kidding? Have you tasted Ryan’s coffee?”
“Actually—” she leaned close, her voice lowering “—that’s why I made the fresh pot. It was a little…”
“Deadly? Lethal? Dangerous?” he suggested for her.
She laughed as she reached for another folder. “I was thinking strong.”
“Felony strong, maybe,” he corrected dryly. He watched as she pulled out another drawer and filed the folder inside. “You sure you don’t want to sit down and rest for a while?”
“I’m sure.”
“You’re not overdoing?”
She gave him a purposeful look. “ABCs, Sheriff. ABCs.”
“All right, all ri
ght, ABCs, I got it.” He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. He turned and stepped into the corridor. “When you’re through with the alphabet, give me a shout. I’ll take you next door to the diner and buy you some lunch.”
“I just might take you up on that,” she said, reaching for another folder.
“But then you’re going home,” he said through the open doorway. “Half a day is enough to start out with.”
“Like I said before, you’re the boss,” she called after him as she pulled open another drawer.
Joe walked down the corridor, following the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. He was grateful for the easy rapport between them, relieved the awkwardness from last night and this morning hadn’t followed them in.
He may not know much about her, but already he could vouch for the fact that she was a hard worker. She hadn’t been shy or timid about helping out. After he’d shown her around the office, she’d delved into that mountain of filing with determination and zeal.
She’d surprised him when she’d joined him for a hurried breakfast this morning. He hadn’t really expected her to come into the office with him. He’d thought she would want at least a day or two to acclimatize herself a little to the world outside or to rest up and gather her strength. Yet there she’d been bright and early this morning, waiting for him in the kitchen, dressed in one of Karen’s old dresses and brewing up a pot of coffee.
“Coffee,” he murmured aloud, breathing in the delicious aroma. But the as he rounded the corner into the break room, he came to a dead stop. “Wh-what are you doing?” he demanded.
Ryan stopped and slowly turned around, his brow arched in surprise. “What? I’m just getting some coffee. Why?”
Joe’s gaze bounced from Ryan’s thermos on the counter to the empty coffeepot in his hand.
Deflated, he shook his head. “No reason.”
He watched as Ryan took the empty pot and filled it with fresh water.
“Now what are you doing?”
Ryan stopped and slowly turned around, giving him a skeptical look. “I was going to make another pot of coffee.”
The thought of Ryan’s ultralethal brews had his stomach rolling over.
“No!” he said, jumping forward. “No, that’s okay. You head off for patrol.”
Ryan gave him another skeptical look. “You okay, Joe?”
“I’m fine,” Joe said, feeling a little foolish.
“How’s Rain doing?” Ryan asked, reaching for the cap of his thermos and screwing it on tight.
“Okay, I think,” he said, picking up a paper filter and slipping it inside the plastic holder of the coffee-maker. “You’re not going to believe it, but she’s practically done with the filing.”
Ryan looked up, eyebrows slowly raising. “And she hasn’t gone stark raving mad or pulled out her hair yet?”
Joe smiled. “No, but I’m not going to take any chances. I’m taking her back out to the ranch after lunch.”
“She feeling okay?”
Ryan’s look of concern was so genuine Joe couldn’t help wondering if there was something about the woman that brought out a common reaction from all who met her. Maybe his feelings weren’t so unusual, maybe she brought out feelings of protection in everyone.
“I think so, but Cruz says she needs to take it slow.” Joe poured the coffee grounds into the filter. “She’s been through a lot.”
“Yeah, you’re right and that’s just what we’ve managed to put together,” Ryan commented, picking up his thermos. “God only knows how long she was out in that desert—or what happened.”
Joe frowned. Somebody besides God knew and one way or another he was going to find out who that was.
“Was it your idea to have her help out?”
Joe immediately felt his defenses go up. “You got a problem with her being here?”
Ryan snorted out a laugh. “No, why would I?”
“Then what difference does it make whose idea it was?”
Ryan regarded him for a moment. “It doesn’t. I was curious, that’s all. I’m a cop, being curious is what I do for a living.”
Joe knew he was making too much of Ryan’s interest and felt embarrassed. “It was my idea. I thought it might help if she kept herself busy and she’s got this thing…” He shrugged, letting his words drift.
“Thing?” Ryan prompted.
Joe looked up and shrugged again. “She needs to feel useful. The thought of just sitting around and doing nothing bothers her. She wants to keep busy.”
“Well, we’ve got enough around here to keep her busy for a while,” Ryan commented dryly. “Damn shame, though.”
Joe looked up.
“Not being able to remember,” Ryan explained, looking up at Joe. “She’s a nice woman. There’s someone out there—family, kids—somebody is missing her.”
Chapter 7
“Sal, this is Rain and she would like you to bring her the biggest lunch plate special you’ve got.”
The voluminous waitress peered over the top of her rhinestone-framed glasses, surveying Rain with a curious eye. “Rain, huh? Yeah, I’ve heard about you, the woman from the desert. Nice to meet you, honey.”
Rain felt heat crawl up her neck and deposit into her cheeks. Suddenly she felt every eye in the place on her.
“Nice…” She cleared her throat, feeling her face flame brighter. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Joe reached for a trifolded menu from behind the napkin dispenser and opened it up. “So what’s looking good today?”
Sal arched a painted brow and reached for the pencil that pierced her almost perfect beehive hairdo. “You say you’re hungry, huh? Well, Walt don’t skimp on the meat loaf sandwich. Think you could handle that, sweetie?”
“Sounds good,” Rain confessed, hunger getting the best of her embarrassment just a little. “I am pretty hungry.”
“Well you won’t be after this, hon,” Sal assured her, pulling a tablet from her apron and scrawling across it. “And how about you, sweet stuff?” she asked, turning to Joe. “Gonna let the little lady get one up on you?”
“Walt’s meat loaf sandwich you say.” Joe considered this for a moment, running a perusing eye over the menu, then shot a challenging look at Rain. “Oh, I think I can give her a run for her money.” He glanced back up at Sal. “Bring me the meat loaf, too.”
Sal slapped the tablet closed and tucked the pencil back into her hair. “Two meat loaf sandwich specials coming up.”
“This place is great,” Rain said as the waitress made her way through the crowded diner and around the counter. “Do you eat here often?”
“Couple times a week.” Joe leaned back and patted his stomach. “I couldn’t do any more than that.”
Rain watched the interplay of the other patrons. The atmosphere was loud and chaotic with the noon rush lunch crowd. Even though she felt like everyone was staring at her, the truth of the matter was everyone was too busy eating to take much notice of her. Still, she felt conspicuous sitting there dressed in another woman’s clothes. Did everyone know about her? Did they all know she was the woman with no past?
“Busy place,” she commented, turning to Joe. “Food must be good.”
Joe nodded. “Nobody does greasy spoon better than Sal and Walt.”
“Which one’s Walt?”
“The guy in the Harley-Davidson T-shirt at the grill,” he told her, lifting his chin in the general direction. “He learned to cook while he was in prison.”
Rain’s eyes widened. “Prison?”
Joe laughed at Rain’s reaction. “Sentenced to fifteen years for armed robbery—served ten.”
Rain turned and looked at the hulking man working behind the counter. “Oh, really.”
“And as a matter of fact,” he added, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “That’s where he met Sal.”
“What?” she gasped, turning back to him. “They met in prison?”
Joe nodded. “She was a guard.”
“You’r
e kidding.”
His smile widened. “Don’t you just love a happy ending?”
Rain sank back against the booth. “What a story.”
Joe sat back, too. “We might not be the biggest community in the state, but we’ve got our share of colorful characters. Well, here comes our lunch now.”
Rain looked down in wonder at the platter of food in front of her. To say she’d had a voracious hunger since she’d awakened in the hospital would be an understatement, but looking at the meat loaf sandwich lunch special, she suddenly wondered if she hadn’t met her match.
Joe smiled. “If the plates were any larger, they’d have to use a crane to carry them to the tables.”
“And another to lift their patrons out,” Rain joked, spearing a healthy wedge of meat loaf with her fork and popping it into her mouth.
Joe laughed. “Remind me to start a diet tomorrow.”
Rain laughed, too. She’d had some reservations when Joe had suggested taking her to lunch, had felt a little reluctant about being out in public. Carrie had told her Mesa Ridge was a small town. Everyone had acknowledged Joe as he’d walked by and she didn’t doubt they had all heard about her. Her story had been reported in the local newspaper and broadcast on the television news. She felt like a freak, like an outsider with no name, no past and no place to call home.
Of course, it hadn’t helped either that she felt awkward dressed in clothes that obviously didn’t fit right. As much as she appreciated Joe’s kindness in providing her with clothes to wear, it bothered her that they were the hand-me-downs of his ex-wife. It was ungrateful, she knew, but she felt self-conscious and unattractive in them. She couldn’t remember what her own clothes looked like, but she was fairly certain she wouldn’t have chosen any like these. Karen Mountain’s tastes ran to the bright, the tight and the gaudy, and the bright-pink flowered dress she had on now fit that criteria exactly.
“So tell me some more about Mesa Ridge,” she said. “Any more eccentric types?”
“One or two,” Joe said, scooping up a forkful of mashed potatoes. “I think there’s something about the desert or the wide-open spaces that attract unusual people or those with checkered pasts.”
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