She shrugged, not caring to discuss with anyone what she did to relax. Especially him.
But he tried again. “So, tell me. Are your dad and Linda dating? I can’t figure out their relationship.”
What did he just say? “Excuse me?”
“Just the way they interact. I was curious.” He smiled.
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as if he’d just produced a rhinoceros from his pocket. “That’s none of your business. But—if you must know—the answer is no. Linda’s been working here for eight years. She and my father are good friends. I mean, she’s been like a mother to me, but I’ve never seen her and my dad act in any way that would suggest they were more than friends.”
“So, I guess it’s been nice you’ve been close to Linda, too. You all do seem like a family out here.”
This man sure is nosy—almost to the point of being intrusive.
“Linda’s done more for me than my own mother ever did and I wouldn’t care if she and my father were dating. But they’re not. And we are family. A tight knit one that doesn’t easily let newcomers in. Especially ones hiding something.”
Her eyes focused on him, waiting for a tell. But he just sighed and dropped his head. “My dad left when I was young. It was tough not having him there.”
Well, fuck. Way to make me feel like a bitch.
The twilight deepened, the shadows stretching further across the yard. “My mother did the same thing. I was too young to remember. My dad searched for her. He thought she went back to Tongue River. But she wasn’t there.”
“Tongue River.” He turned to face her. “You mean the reservation? You’re Cheyenne?”
She raised her chin. “Part.”
“I figured Crow, since the reservation for the Apsaalooke tribe is close by.”
“You shouldn’t make assumptions like that.”
She’d shared enough with the foreman for one night. Maybe even a month. And it was time for this conversation to end. Stepping to the top of the stairs, she called out to the dogs.
“Koda! Two Bits! Come.”
Two dark figures with four legs and ears raced across the field. Both animals tore up the steps, pushing past her in their rush to get through the storm door she’d left propped open. Knocked off balance, she squealed and collided with John’s chest. His arms caught her. Kept her from falling farther.
For a brief moment, she relaxed in the security and strength of his large arms. Until her heart began to ricochet off her rib cage. Her body was reacting as if being chased by a wild silverback gorilla in the jungles of Rwanda.
“Let go of me!” She pulled away, grabbing the railing to steady herself.
He released her, throwing up his hands. “Sorry. I was just trying to keep you from falling.” Annoyance colored his voice. “For whatever reason you don’t want me here. You’ve made that clear. But I work here now and I was just trying to make polite conversation. To let you know me a little, so I’m not just some stranger.”
“Maybe you should give up the attempts at conversation.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to suppress the bile making its way up her throat.
“I don’t know what I did to get on your bad side, but I can see there’s no point hoping we’ll be friends.”
The way he grabbed her, his power flicked her trigger. It wasn’t an excuse; she owned her behavior. But in that moment, instead of being the strong woman who’d survived, she became the frightened child, damaged and afraid, awaiting the next beating. And she hated herself for it.
“Look, I’ve got work to do tonight. You’ve got interviews in the morning. We both should just get some rest,” she said, exhaustion taking over.
“Listen,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “I’ve got a deal for you.”
“I don’t do deals.” She had no energy left to fight. To keep him away.
“Hear me out. I promise to stop trying to be friendly to you—if you promise to stop acting like I don’t know how to do my job.”
Her lips pursed. “No more questions about my private life?”
He nodded. “If you stop taking every suggestion I make like a personal attack.”
Her cheeks heated. She’d actually looked up accounting software online and discovered some free tutorials—not that she had any intention of mentioning it. “All right. But you’re new and we don’t really know you. So, you’re not entirely getting free rein to run things.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Locke. I’m not sure what sort of employees you’ve had in the past. But I can assure you, I take whatever job I do very seriously.”
She remained on the porch as he walked to his truck. Her eyes momentarily settled on his round, muscular backside. She couldn’t deny he was sexy.
He’s an employee.
She slammed the front door closed and stomped up the stairs to her room. Regardless of his looks, nothing would ever come of it. Once he found out how broken she was, he’d run. He couldn’t take her uncontrolled outbursts now. How could she expect him to live the rest of his life like that? How could anyone? Tears streamed down her face. Reaching her room, she closed the door, standing alone in the darkness.
Chapter 8
For one panicked, gasping moment, John tasted copper in the back of his mouth. The shock of the initial blast faded, replaced by the acrid smell of the fertilizer used to create the explosive. Fire crackled as the Jeep burned. John knew he should move, but his body didn’t respond to his commands. It was cold, clammy, as if he was already dead.
He jerked upright, shivering. His shirt was soaked. It took him a long moment to recognize the walls of the office or the desk in front of him. Feeling like he was sinking into a cavernous hole within himself, he leaned forward in his chair, resting his head in his hands. He’d fallen asleep waiting for the next interview to show up. His eyes wandered to the clock above the window. Still early. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his phone and clicked on the social media app. He’d been meaning to post an update about Koda.
Thank you to everyone who shared this message. I found my canine partner. She is with a good family and she will stay with them.
Satisfied with what he had written, he clicked the post button before scrolling on down the newsfeed.
Melissa.
His unsuccessful bar hook-up appeared in one of the pictures. A friend of a friend had posted a photo of a backyard barbeque. And another guy was holding her close. She was smiling at the camera, her arms entwined around the guy’s neck.
Her latest looked like a classic meathead: buzzed haircut, oversized muscles, and the kind of face that made you wonder if some folks had failed to get the memo incest was illegal. John grunted and continued to scroll past the picture, but not before blocking the friend of the friend who’d posted it.
He hoisted himself out of the chair to stretch his legs, making his way to the bathroom. For a few moments he stood in front of the bathroom mirror examining the lines and cracks on his face. He looked worn. Beaten. What had been stubble just a few days ago was now a scruffy beard threatening to take over his face. He brushed his fingertips through the thick scruff, but as he did so he didn’t feel hair. He felt desert sand and bits of shrapnel from the Humvee.
Maybe getting rid of the scruff would help. He grabbed the gel from the small bag of toiletries he kept in the bottom drawer of the vanity and rubbed it on his face, watching it turn to light green foam in the mirror. That’s a start. Once his face was liberally coated with shaving gel, he picked up the razor. As he set the can of gel aside, he snorted at the label. Snakeskin scented. How do they come up with these things? Did a snake’s skin really have a scent?
Suddenly there was a loud noise and he found himself staring into the mirror. The shaving cream can and the razor were both in the sink. He didn’t remember dropping them. He gripped the sides of the sink so hard his knuckles turned white. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his breath came fast and ragged.
Panic attack. The moment he acknowle
dged it for what it was, he felt the familiar flush of shame and embarrassment.
After a deep breath, his heart rate began to slow. He hunched over the sink and splashed cold water on his face to rinse away the thick layer of gel. He felt sick and worn out even though he’d just woken up from an impromptu nap.
He scratched his chin. He could shave another day. So what if his stubble had become less ‘sexy-devil-may-care’ and more ‘scruffy-but-who-cares?’ He didn’t. Care, that is. With a sigh, he exited the bathroom.
There was a light thumping of paws in the dirt yard outside the equipment barn. He turned his head toward it. Koda trotted through the open doorway.
“Hey girl.” Some of the heaviness in his body eased. “Katie’s not with you, is she?”
The dog wagged her tail. When Katie didn’t appear, his entire body relaxed. The thought of dealing with the cantankerous Katie right now was almost more than he could bear. Things had been better since their “deal,” but she didn’t have to try to get under his skin. She only had to glance his way, and he felt as clumsy as a cadet on his first day of training. At least when she was openly hostile it had been easier to ignore the sheer perfection of her slight but curvy form. Now? He’d come dangerously close to getting caught checking her out more than once. Ogling my boss. Yeah, that’s a smart idea.
Plus, keeping the secret of who Koda was to him meant he had to watch his interactions with the dog. He glanced around the yard once more before kneeling to pet Koda. He didn’t want anyone else getting curious about why the two of them had such a close bond.
To be honest, he was surprised no one had figured it out yet. Koda’s eyes creased with pleasure and her tongue lolled out as he patted her. Her tail whacked the barn floor in pleasure. To him, the dog’s happiness was obvious. But people had a habit of seeing what they wanted to see. Who would expect Koda’s handler to show up at the same ranch where she’d been retired?
He got up, closing the office door before sitting on the floor of the barn to play with his friend. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Koda licked his face and plopped down in his lap. Her tongue hung out of her muzzle.
Laughing, he rubbed her belly. “You’re such a silly girl sometimes. I’m glad you’re happy here.”
Tires crunched over the gravel. His last interview had arrived. He quickly got to his feet, Koda springing up after him. He smiled to himself. Feels just like old times. He walked out of the equipment barn to greet the man with Koda at his side. Let’s hope this guy is a better fit than the last three.
A short guy, square like a wrestler, with a perfectly tanned bald head and dark aviator-style sunglasses, got out of the car. He took his time looking around the ranch, before noticing John. The man ambled over to meet him, his hands hooked through the waist of his spotless jeans.
Oh come on. The last thing he needed was a wannabe cowboy. “I’m John Rathborne, foreman of the Three Keys Ranch.”
The man gave him a once-over, never offering to shake his hand. “I’m Peter White.”
“Let’s head into the office.” He turned on his heels and let the man follow him and Koda.
Back in the office, he shut the door and took a seat behind the desk. Koda settled next to his feet, but she watched Peter closely.
Peter’s application lay on the desk. He gave it a glance, though he’d already familiarized himself with it. On paper, the man seemed like the perfect candidate for the job of ranch hand. He had experience with both cattle and horses, and knew how to clean stalls, mend fences, and chase down an orphan calf. But there was more to it than just a few barn skills.
“So, Peter. Tell me a little about yourself.”
Peter shrugged. “I grew up in Billings, but went to a small private college out east. When I came back after graduation a few years ago, jobs were pretty hard to find. I worked on a ranch over on the North Dakota border for a while.”
He scribbled down notes as Peter talked. He hated to catch people lying on their applications. If their stories matched, it was at least a decent indication they were telling the truth. Not always, but usually. “Do you have references?”
That was another good way to weed out liars. Asking for a reference from interviewee number two had made the poor kid sweat and shake until he admitted he had no work experience and had faked his entire resume. He almost hoped Peter would have the same reaction to his line of questioning.
“Sure thing.” Peter reached into his jacket pocket and produced a sheet of paper.
He scanned the list of several names and phone numbers. “What made you want to apply for this job?”
Mitch wanted all the applicants to answer that, but John would’ve preferred to ask tougher questions.
Peter frowned. “I saw a flyer. I need a job. Is that too honest?”
John laughed. “No. Not too honest. But seriously, what draws you to ranch work? From your references and from what you told me on the phone, the job in eastern Montana was your first experience on a ranch.”
“I like horses.” Peter smiled smugly and leaned back in his seat. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he looked around the small space and again seemed to claim it for his own.
John frowned. In all other ways Peter White seemed like an ideal candidate for this job, but a nagging voice in the back of his head warned something wasn’t quite right. Even Koda remained alert, like she was just waiting for Peter to make a mistake.
He sighed. From Peter’s references alone, Mitch would want this man working on the ranch. If he didn’t give Peter the job, he’d look like a fool trying to explain why. “I’d like to offer you a job here. After your references check out, of course.”
Peter lit up in a smile. “That’s great. Thanks, man.” He reached out to shake John’s hand.
“Why don’t I call Mitch, so you can meet the boss? He has final say on all hires.” John picked up the desk phone. Maybe Mitch would get the same feeling about this guy and the problem would solve itself.
Something dark flitted across Peter’s face. “But aren’t you the foreman? Aren’t you the one who does the hiring?”
John set the phone back in its cradle. Slowly and deliberately, he rested his elbows on the desk and leaned forward while he stared down the other man. “Do you have something you want to say?”
Peter stood still, so still John could hardly see his chest rising and falling. He kept his hands at his sides. Every finger was exactly where he wanted it. His face may have been made of porcelain for all the expression it showed, but his eyes burned with fury. “Look—I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want it to look like I was looking for special favors.”
“What are you talking about?”
Peter’s face was unsmiling. “My father was Jefferson White.”
John just gave him a blank look.
“Mr. Locke and he were business partners a while back. And friends. At least, they were until my father died several years ago.”
“Oh. Well, you understand I’ll have to talk to Mitch about your story.”
“Go ahead. Like I said, I wasn’t looking for special favors. But he won’t turn down Jefferson White’s boy.”
“I’ll talk to him. But I will be your boss, if you’re hired. You’ll have to answer to me.” He leaned back in the chair, daring Peter to challenge him.
Peter’s eyes narrowed. “I swear, dude, I have nothing against you. But you do know this is a ranch, right? Not the military.” He eyed the army cap hanging on the corner of the chair.
“Yeah,” John said curtly. “But I expect the same discipline from my workers as I did the men in my unit. Are we clear?”
“Crystal, sir.” Peter shot him a mock salute. “Do I owe you some pushups or something?”
His blood boiled and he jumped up, knocking the chair over. Koda sprang onto her feet, barking ferociously. Peter leaned back as John grabbed the dog’s collar. “You think you’re funny?”
“Calm down, bro.
I was just trying to lighten the mood.” Peter held up both hands, palms out.
John sat down again. His breath came in ragged spurts and his vision blurred. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. How dare this asshole mock his sacrifice. How dare he mock Dirk! He opened his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to put his fist through Peter’s overconfident face, but the small shred of sanity that remained told him to calm down and put the brakes on the anger. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his job, so he counted to ten.
Stupid, but it worked.
Much as he hated to admit it, he needed to hire Peter. He was running out of options and if the guy’s references were to be trusted, he was perfect for the ranch. Even if this kid was a son of a bitch.
“This is just probationary. Assuming Mitch gives the final okay. After three months we’ll decide whether to keep you on permanently or not.”
“Three months is all I need,” Peter said, with a sardonic grin. “To prove myself to you, that is. Three months will do just fine.”
Chapter 9
The phone’s soft buzz barely caught Katie’s attention. She glanced at the screen and sucked her teeth as she saw the caller display. John. Why’s he calling? For an instant, she debated answering it. If he hadn’t been the ranch foreman, and if she hadn’t been part owner of that same ranch, she would have let it to go to voicemail. But since he was, and she was—
“Yes?”
“Hey, Katie. It’s John.”
“Yeah, I know. What is it?”
She thumped her palm against the granite countertop when he sighed. She hadn’t meant to come off so bitchy. “I need you to ride out with me. I have to take the new hire, Peter White, out to show him the ranch so he’ll know where everything is when I send him to do something. We’ll be covering as much of the ranch as we can.”
“I know.” Who did he think had done most of the training in the past when new hires came on? She’d even been there as her dad showed him around. The harder she tried to keep calm, the more her emotions shot up the proverbial finger. “Why do you want me to go along?”
Hearts Unleashed Page 6
