by Jane Graves
“Why not?” Freddie Jo said.
“Yeah,” Luke said. “Why not?”
Why not? Was he serious? He thought he could just walk in there and ask for a job as if the past had never been? Still, the last thing she wanted was to dredge that up now. Fortunately, she hardly needed that as justification not to hire Luke when he had another more obvious shortcoming.
“Look at you,” she said. “You can barely walk. How are you supposed to do the job?”
“I had the surgery. The doctor said I need to start rehabbing my knee, and that includes making sure I get plenty of exercise. Give me a couple of weeks, and I’ll be doing all the heavy lifting I need to.”
“And there’s plenty he can do in the meantime,” Freddie Jo said.
“Like what?” Shannon said.
“He can groom the horses. Dose the cats with ear mite medicine. Feed the llamas.”
“Llamas?” Luke said. “Now, there’s something that wasn’t around here eleven years ago.”
“We have everything but dinosaurs now,” Freddie Jo said. “We’re just praying nobody figures out time travel, or the back pasture is going to look like Jurassic Park.”
Shannon couldn’t deal with this. It made her nervous just to have Luke standing in this barn, much less working there. If she’d felt hot before he showed up, she was positively sizzling now. He seemed to fill every space he walked into, crowding her mind until she couldn’t think straight. No matter how rational she tried to be, all it took was one glance to remind her what it had felt like to touch him and to imagine what it would be like if she did it again.
But there was another side to Luke now, one she’d do well to keep in mind. On their way to and from Austin after he’d hurt his knee, he’d shown her quite clearly how angry, abrupt, and resentful he could be. The last thing she needed these days was to deal with that kind of attitude.
She turned back to the grain bin. “Sorry, Luke. This interview is over.”
“Interview?” Luke said. “Was that what that was?”
“Yes. And you didn’t get the job.”
“I didn’t even get to tell you about my experience. As luck would have it, I’ve worked here before.”
Shannon scooped some more grain.
“So I know my way around the place,” Luke went on.
She dumped the grain into Clancy’s bucket.
“I’m thinking that makes me just about the perfect job candidate.”
“No,” Shannon said, swiping her forearm across her forehead. “The perfect job candidate would be an animal lover. I don’t remember you being one of those.”
“Is that a requirement for the job?”
“If it is, I may be in trouble,” Freddie Jo said.
“What do you mean?” Shannon said. “You’re an animal lover.”
“Not all animals. I’m not too crazy about the llamas. They spit.” She turned to Luke. “But as long as you treat them right, that’s all that matters.”
Shannon had to admit that even though Luke had never clucked and cooed over the puppies and kittens, he certainly hadn’t mistreated them, so that was no excuse for not hiring him now.
So what was her excuse?
“You don’t want the job,” she said. “Trust me. It pays next to nothing.”
“I don’t need much.”
“The apartment is tiny. You can barely turn around in it.”
“It’s a place to sleep and shower. What else does a man really need?”
“There’s no TV.”
“Who needs a TV?”
“You’re a man,” she said. “It’s part of your genetic makeup. You can’t go against nature.”
“It’s only for a little while. Three months. That’s it. Once I’m ready to climb back up on a bull again, I’ll be out of here.”
“Right. And that’s a problem. I’m looking for a permanent employee.”
“Yeah? How’s that been working out for you?”
Shannon opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Damn it. Why was he doing this to her?
“He’s right,” Freddie Jo said. “Somebody temporary beats the nobody we have right now.” She turned to Luke. “You’re hired.”
Shannon whipped around. “Excuse me?”
“It’ll take me a bit to get you set up on the payroll,” Freddie Jo went on. “But soon as I do—”
“Hey!” Shannon said.
Freddie Jo blinked innocently. “What?”
“You can’t hire people!”
“Really?” Freddie Jo said. “But you told me I could.”
“When did I tell you that?”
“Two weeks ago when that Labrador mama was having her babies. You stayed overnight in the caretaker’s apartment and said the bed was like sleeping on a sack of rocks. You said, ‘Freddie Jo, I’ve had enough of this. If you run across somebody for the caretaker’s job, you hire him on the spot.’”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Well, then, you’d better watch what you say, honey. You know me. I’m a little slow. I take things kinda literally.”
Shannon frowned. “Can I see you outside?”
Without waiting for a response, Shannon grabbed her by the arm and hustled her out of the barn. Once they were clear of the door, Shannon spun around.
“Do you have any clue who that is?” she whispered.
“Sure I do, honey. Luke Dawson.”
“Exactly! So you must know I don’t want him around here!”
“Yeah, I know. But when you were talking about him, you left out the part about him being one fine-looking man.”
“You’re a married woman. What would Carl say if he heard you talking like this?”
“Just fighting fire with fire. You should hear what he says about the girls on the Harley Davidson calendar.”
Shannon closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Okay,” Freddie Jo said. “Let’s forget for a minute that Luke Dawson is a hundred-and-eighty-pound box of eye candy. You need a caretaker, and he’s willing to take the job. Who else you gonna get who doesn’t mind living in that dinky apartment and getting paid next to nothing?”
Shannon couldn’t believe this was happening. She felt the weight of her history with Luke welling up inside her. She didn’t want to do this. She just didn’t.
“In the time it takes you to feed the horses,” Freddie Jo went on, “you could be on the phone scrounging up more money for this place. Writing more grant proposals. Begging a few more goodies from pet food companies. That’s what you’re good at. And you wouldn’t be wearing yourself to the bone.”
“I don’t mind doing everything.”
“I know you don’t. But honey, taking care of the animals…that’s hard work.”
Shannon felt a stab of guilt. “I know it is. You’ve taken on a lot, too, and I appreciate it. I’m just sorry to have to ask you to do it.”
“You know I’ll help you till I drop dead. But it’s you I’m worried about. As much as the rest of us pitch in, you do twice as much. And that’s not good for any of us.”
Freddie Jo was right. She was tired right down to her shoe soles.
“None of us has to do nearly as much if we can find somebody to do it for us,” Freddie Jo said. “We need a man around here.”
“We need a man? Have you even heard of feminism?”
“Deny it all you want to, honey, but a little testosterone goes a long way. Aren’t you getting a little tired of lugging around hundred-pound sacks of horse feed?”
“Luke can’t lug horse feed. Not with his knee.”
“You heard what he said. Give him a few weeks, and he’ll be able to do just about anything. In the meantime, he’ll be the eyes and ears you say you need around this place.”
“No. No way. I am not hiring Luke Dawson. We have history. It wasn’t pretty. And I’d rather not go there again.”
Freddie Jo let out a weary sigh. “Okay. I hear you.”
Shannon looked aw
ay.
“No. Really. I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I know there’s bad blood between you and Luke. I don’t know the details, but I do know that just thinking about going to his daddy’s funeral freaked you out.”
And it shouldn’t have. Good heavens—eleven years had passed. She could have gone, acted like an adult, expressed her condolences, and left. Instead, she’d shied away like some kind of scared kid. It wasn’t like her not to stand up to her feelings, no matter what they were. But like it or not, even after all these years, Luke still put a twist in her tongue and a knot in her stomach.
“So forget everything I’ve said up to now,” Freddie Jo told her. “If you say it’s a bad thing to have him around here, it’s a bad thing. Send him on his way, and I won’t say another word about it. And you know I mean that.”
She did. Freddie Jo was nothing if not sincere. Still, while Shannon knew she didn’t mean to lay a guilt trip on her, that was what it felt like just the same.
“I’m going to head on back to the office,” Freddie Jo said. “You talk to Luke. Whatever you decide, I’m behind you a hundred percent.”
As Freddie Jo walked back up the path to the office, Shannon went back into the barn. Clancy had finished his grain, and Luke was standing by his stall. Clancy nudged his shoulder, and he turned and gave the horse a couple of solid pats on the neck. Light slanted through the dusty windows, bathing the side of Luke’s face in soft sunlight. Shannon’s gaze drifted involuntarily down his body. It seemed to be nothing but bone and muscle, with biceps and thighs sculpted from years of trying to stay on board animals that were doing their level best to dump him in the dirt.
“Seems like a pretty good horse,” Luke said. “What’s keeping him here?”
“We got an anonymous phone call that he’d been abandoned, and when we found him, he had a bad cut on his foreleg. Probably barbed wire.”
Luke leaned over the stall door and looked at Clancy’s front leg. “How deep is it?”
“Right down to the bone. I hate barbed wire. I’d love to get rid of it around here, but there’s never been enough money in the budget to put new fence around all this acreage.”
Luke flipped up the horse’s lip and looked at his teeth. “He’s young. Looks like a two-year-old. Saddle broke?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Give him a week or two to heal, and then I’ll saddle him up. If he doesn’t object to that, he’s likely broke. Then I’ll hop up on him and see how he does.”
“You’re assuming you’re going to be here in a week or two.”
“That’s right.”
She walked over to where he stood. “Tell the truth. Why do you want this job? Really?”
He faced her. “Why are you considering giving it to me? Really?”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are, or you would have sent me on my way already.”
“I tried to. You refused to go. I already said you didn’t get the job.”
“How long has it been vacant?”
She paused. “Almost two months.”
“How many people have applied?”
“What difference does it make?”
“How many?”
“One. He didn’t work out.”
“How many hours a day do you work?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Ten? Twelve?”
She just stared at him.
“Okay. At least twelve. Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Not in the least.”
“Then you must be partying all night long to get those dark circles under your eyes.”
“Knock it off, Luke.”
“It’s hotter than hell in this barn, and it’s supposed to be over ninety degrees every day for the next week. Too bad these horses still have to be fed.”
“I said that’s enough.”
“I hear that bed is a sack of rocks. I’d hate for you to have to—”
“Will you stop?”
He took a few steps forward and stared down at her. “I want this job, but I don’t beg. Is it mine or not?”
“You’re broke, aren’t you? That’s why you want to work here.”
“I’m not broke.”
“You’re lying.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed just enough that she knew she’d hit a nerve. It was just as she’d suspected. His hospital bills had nearly wiped him out. And since bull riding was his livelihood and he couldn’t pursue it until his knee was healed, he had no means of support.
“No matter what you think,” Luke said, “this is just a temporary setback for me. Come the first of November, I’m going to the World Championship in Denver.”
“That’s less than three months from now. Your knee won’t be completely healed.”
“Whether it is or it isn’t, that’s where I’ll be. And when it’s all over, I’ll have the championship and the money that goes with it.”
Her first thought was that he was just as cocky as he’d ever been. But his gaze never left hers, telling her he believed every word he spoke. She had the feeling he didn’t just profess to be the best at what he did. He really was the best.
“If I give you this job, I expect you to work,” she told him. “No screwing around.”
“I know we’ve had our disagreements,” Luke said. “But was there ever a time back then when I didn’t do my job? Ever?”
He was right. He’d never shirked his responsibility on the job. If she didn’t hire him now, it would be because she was a petty-minded person who couldn’t get over the past, and she hated to think she might be one of those.
“Fine,” she told him. “The job is yours. But only until I find somebody permanent. Even if that happens tomorrow, you’ll have to move on.”
“Deal.”
“The job requires you to work six days a week, including both weekend days, with one day off during the week.”
“That’s fine. But I have to go to Austin twice a week for physical therapy, so I’ll need another morning or afternoon off during the week.”
“You haven’t even started and you’re pushing for time off?”
“Most of the work around here can be done in off hours—early morning, late evening. I’ll make up the time.”
Shannon hadn’t liked this before, and she really didn’t like it now. But he was right. Whether the animals were fed at seven in the morning or nine really didn’t matter, as long as it was consistent.
“When can you start?” she said.
“No time like the present.”
“Good. I assume you want to move in immediately, too.”
“Yes.
“Okay. Freddie Jo will put you on the payroll and—”
All at once her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. Russell?
She hit the Answer button. “Hi, Russell. What’s up?”
“I just called to ask what kind of wine would be appropriate for tonight.”
She started to say, Wine for what? And then it hit her, that horrible sinking sensation that always came over her whenever she realized she’d forgotten something important. Sure, now she remembered they were going to her parents’ house for dinner. Now, less than an hour and a half before Russell was supposed to pick her up and she was a hot, sweaty mess from head to toe.
She took several quick steps away from Luke, turned her back, and spoke quietly. “Uh…yeah. A bottle of wine. That would be nice.”
“Do you have any idea what your mother is making?”
“Uh…”
“Beef?”
“Well…”
“Pork? Fish?”
She squeezed her eyes closed. Think…think…what did she tell you?
Oh, yeah. Chicken. But not just any old chicken. She was making her prized Monterrey Chicken, famous the world over, as long as the world didn’t extend past the city limits of Rainbow Valley. When it came to cooking, Loucinda North was the self-crowned Queen of Cuisine. While other kids were eating macaroni and cheese on
plastic plates in the breakfast room, Shannon remembered white-tablecloth dinners, complete with gravy boats, napkin rings, and narrow-eyed glares for any child who dared put her elbows on the table.
“Chicken,” she said.
“Then I’ll bring a white. Chardonnay. Light and crisp. Fruity. Will that work?”
“Yes. White. That’ll be perfect.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Sounds good,” she said with a smile in her voice that never made it to her face. She hit the End button and stuffed the phone back into her pocket.
“White wine and chicken,” Luke said. “I hear that’s a good match. Me, I’m a beer man. The darker, the better.”
Ignoring him, Shannon dashed back to the grain bin, stabbed the scoop into it, and dumped grain into the last two horses’ buckets. Then she turned to Luke. “I’ll take you back to the office. Freddie Jo will show you the caretaker’s apartment and tell you the rules.”
“Rules? Hmm. This is the first I’ve heard of rules.”
“If they’re too strict for you, no problem. You don’t have to work here.”
“I just remembered. I love rules.”
“Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t give me a reason to regret this.”
A lazy smile appeared on his lips. “Oh, you won’t regret it. Trust me on that.”
Yes, it was a smile, but there was nothing warm or sociable about it. What she saw now was just a grown-up version of the boy who had been at war with this town, with eyes that let no one inside. There had been a time when she was sure she’d discovered a kindness and compassion in him that no one else had ever seen, but now it felt like a dream she’d once had that bore no resemblance to reality.
Then all at once, something nagged at her conscience. She wondered if she should say something. Probably not. But guilt drove her to do it, anyway.
“Luke? There was something I didn’t say before, and I should have.”
He gave her a cocky smile. “What’s that? ‘Welcome to Paradise’?”
“I’m sorry about your father.”
His smile evaporated, and he averted his gaze. “Then that makes one of us.”
“Luke—”
“I hear you. You’re sorry. And from now on, you can consider that topic off limits.”
He folded his arms and turned away. Shannon couldn’t imagine what turbulence a man would carry inside when he had a father like Glenn Dawson, so she couldn’t really blame him for feeling the way he did.
