by Glynna Kaye
“Just wondered.” Fortunately, as the future horse operation manager, he wouldn’t have to deal with the other man year-round. But would there be an expectation that Eliot be hired full-time postgraduation? “What’s he do besides maintain wagons?”
“Odds and ends. He does building and fence maintenance. Is active in trail rides and hayrides. Whatever needs to be done.”
“What’s his major?”
She frowned, tiring of his questions as she’d earlier tired of his opinions? “Sports medicine. He’s working on his master’s. Why?”
Cash had taken a few night classes after high school himself, but hadn’t gotten anything close to a degree. Eliot was one up on him in that respect. But, thankfully, the career path Eliot had chosen didn’t sound like something he’d be putting into practice around the Hideaway in the future.
Cash shrugged. “I hope that works out for him.”
And kept him far from Hunter’s Hideaway. Eliot appeared to have a chip on his shoulder, and Cash didn’t want to be forced to be the one to knock it off. But the guy could rest easy. Cash wasn’t looking for trouble, and he wasn’t campaigning to be president of Rio Hunter’s fan club. Once upon a time, crazy in love, he’d played that thankless role with Lorilee longer than he should have—right up until she’d walked out of his life with another besotted fool, toddler Joey in her arms.
“Cash? Did you hear me?” Rio bumped his arm with her clipboard, drawing him back to the present. “Our summer hires will be here any minute to start working with the horses. You might want to find a place for Joey that’s more out of the way.”
“Yeah, sure.” She was right. Sitting in the open might not be the best spot for him once activity picked up. Cash hadn’t figured out what he’d do with Joey when accompanying Rio on this morning’s ride, either.
When he’d suggested to Joey that he could double-up on Cash’s horse, it hadn’t gone over well. So he’d backed off that idea. Of course, he could always force the issue if that’s what it came down to. Throw him up in the saddle and be done with it. That’s what his own father, not pandering to any sign of weakness, would have done. But he didn’t want to make the boy more fearful or risk humiliating him.
He walked over to Joey and placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s find you a better place to hang out while I work.”
“Can I bring the kitty?”
“Sure.” But barn cats usually had a mind of their own.
When he had his son safely situated in an old-time surrey where he could watch the activity in the biggest corral, Cash joined Rio and a group of high school and college-aged summer hires. All were Hunter Ridge natives who were as horse crazy as he’d been at their age. A great bunch he’d enjoy working with.
But in short order, he again butted heads with Rio.
It was going to be a long day.
* * *
It wasn’t Rio’s imagination. Cash Herrera had an opinion on literally everything that had to do with anything.
After the last ride of the day, with satisfied guests sent home or back to their quarters to await dinner and with horses unsaddled, groomed, fed and turned loose in what passed for pasture at this high elevation, she was more than ready to call it a day. And put some distance between herself and the opinionated cowboy, as well.
But she had to stick around the barns until Cash returned from retrieving his son from her folks’ place. They needed to have a talk concerning that turn of events. Her mom, having seen Joey racing his toy cars along the leather seat of the surrey before the first ride of the day, had taken him under her wing—despite Rio’s protests. Baking cookies. A walk with Rags. Coloring pictures. Kids always took to Mom, and while she appreciated her mother’s consideration for the little boy, Cash couldn’t go fobbing his kid off on other people. Especially not on her mother, who still needed regular rest.
“He probably has an opinion about that, too,” she said to one of the cats that was carefully cleaning a front paw a few feet away from her. With a sigh, she continued filling the water tank in the main corral.
Cash’s first observation of the day, of course, had to do with the inadequacy of the Hideaway’s facilities to meet the expectations of the ritzy clientele of the last place he’d worked. Next had been his insistence that anyone under eighteen wear a riding helmet despite the waiver stating the requirement was for those under sixteen. And he further changed things up by deciding one of the mares would handle better with a snaffle bit rather than a curb and that one of the geldings needed to sit things out until his bad habit of crowding the horse in front of him was corrected.
All the latter things were good. He knew his stuff. But already he was taking over.
Having turned off the spigot, she slowly cranked up the hose as she listened to the chattering of summer hires coming from the main barn while they attended to their end-of-day chores. More than once, to her exasperation, she overheard the name Cash.
It wasn’t her imagination, either, that the guests on the two rides that day had deferred to him more times than not. That they directed their questions and comments to him rather than to her. Granted, he looked the part of an experienced horse wrangler with those well-worn boots, the Western hat low on his brow and that slow smile loaded with charm. Unlike him, she preferred to don a riding helmet to encourage the younger crowd to willingly accept the headgear rules. So maybe she didn’t look as authentic as their guests thought she should?
Obviously, too, summer hires Sue, Kaitlyn, Micki and Deena, not many years her junior, had fallen head over heels for Cash, and he wasn’t helping matters with the way he teased them and listened attentively to whatever they had to say. Which, to her way of thinking, was way more than needed to be said. Even Ned, Leon and Billy seemed to be developing a hero worship of sorts, setting cowboy hats at the same rakish angle as their new idol. When she’d complained to Delaney at lunchtime, she got no sympathy. Just a grin and a sounds like someone’s jealous to me retort that irritated her further.
She was not jealous. She was a woman who had a job to do and people to supervise to make sure Hideaway guests had the best experience possible. But suddenly the whole world was being forced to rotate around Cashton Herrera.
“I know you said you wanted to see me, but you look like a thundercloud fixin’ to break loose.”
Startled, she looked up at Cash as he pushed off from where he’d been leaning his muscled forearms on the corral fence. How long had he been standing there while she was lost in her thoughts? Thoughts about him.
As he unlatched the corral gate, she gave the hose crank one final jerk. “Enter at your own risk, cowboy.”
He slipped through the gate and fastened it closed, then walked toward her with that confident cowboy stride of his. Broad shouldered. Narrow hipped. No wonder he had the girls swooning. She deliberately looked away. Any man she’d ever again take an interest in had to have more going for him than that. The superficial looks and charm no longer hacked it.
“So what’s up, Prin—”
“Where’s Joey?”
He halted a few feet away, a smile surfacing in spite of her clipped words.
“He’s playing with Chloe and Tessa. And yes,” he added before she could voice the question, “they’re supervised.”
Chloe was Luke’s younger of two daughters by his first wife, and Tessa was the child of the former Sunshine Carston, town council member, artists’ cooperative manager and Grady’s bride as of last Valentine’s Day.
She placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not going to work, Cash.”
“What isn’t?”
“Not having a regular caregiver in charge of Joey until after school is out. Besides, Anna usually has a full plate of summer activities—horse shows, church youth group outings, chores around the Hideaway.”
“We’ll work aro
und them.”
“How? My mom can’t be taking on your kid to raise. No way. She’s—” Maybe she shouldn’t go there. Mom’s health was family business and didn’t concern an outsider.
“She’s what?”
“She has more important responsibilities than playing babysitter.”
Cash frowned. “I didn’t ask her to help. You were there. She offered. Joey would have been fine right where he was.”
“You think so?” She gave him a disbelieving look. “Take it from me, that kid isn’t going to be satisfied with sitting by himself for the next week, no matter how much you’d like to believe it. It’s a matter of time before he gets bored and restless, and the next thing you know—”
“We made a deal.”
“A deal.”
“Right. I explained how I need to make a go of this job and that I need his help. That he has to stay out of trouble. He was good with it.”
This man was clueless. “He’s eight years old.”
“And smart as a whip.”
“I’m not disputing that. But a deal? I can see what you’re getting out of it, but what’s in it for him?”
“Well...” Cash looked momentarily perplexed, then his voice firmed. “Whatever time I have free on Sundays is his. Whatever he wants to do. Within reason, of course.”
“So ten to twelve hours a day, six days a week he kicks his heels and twiddles his thumbs all by his lonesome while you go about your business.”
“That’s the way it has to be. For now, anyway.”
“It’s not going to work, and you’d know it if you’d stop to think about it.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
What did she suggest? Besides Cash heading on down the road and out of her life? But then where would that leave her? The fall semester started in Flagstaff mid-August. The Hideaway’s horse operation season wouldn’t end until the middle of October when they’d ship most of the animals to lower elevation pasture. It cost too much to feed grain and hay to over thirty horses all winter. She sure didn’t want to get stuck staying here until they could find a suitable replacement for Cash.
“It’s a week, Rio. Then Luke’s daughter can take over. Your grandma said that Anna’s girlfriends were interested in picking up babysitting money, too. So once school’s out, they can fill in for her as needed.”
“And what if they have other plans at the same time?”
“We deal with it then. Didn’t your mama tell you never to borrow trouble?”
He winked, and her betraying heart fluttered.
“I’m not borrowing trouble, Cash. I’ve found it works best to carefully evaluate situations—worst-case scenarios—and safeguard against the unexpected. I don’t like being blindsided.”
Blindsided. Like when boyfriend Seth Durren’s steel-hard fist had crashed into her face, cutting her lip and breaking her nose. But here she stood, arguing with one of those kinds of men who made the world less safe for women, over something that anyone with common sense would know couldn’t work.
“It wouldn’t be you getting blindsided,” he said, carefully studying her as if sensing a powder keg of emotions under the surface. “It would be my problem to deal with. Mine to handle.”
She drew a breath. He was right. Joey had nothing to do with her. Not really. Not as long as the boy was kept out of harm’s way and his presence didn’t interfere with Cash’s ability to do his job.
The cowboy offered a tentative smile. “So are we good?”
“I guess we have to be.”
“Well, then.” He gave her a brisk nod, his dark eyes reassuring. “We have a job to do. Let’s get on with it.”
Yes, that’s what they needed to do. The summer season was here. The contracting company’s visit but a few months away.
And she still had a vow to keep to God.
Chapter Five
Something poked him in the back.
Cash grunted but didn’t open his eyes. Instead, he lifted himself slightly, pulled the covers over his head and did a face plant into his pillow.
Again, something poked him.
A finger. A little one. Joey.
“Dad. Wake up.”
Alarmed as the desperate tone of his son’s voice registered in his foggy brain, he tossed off the covers and sat up, blinking at the light streaming through the windows. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“We’re gonna miss church.”
Church. Right. Today was Sunday.
He glanced at the clock on the stand next to his bed. Oh, man. He’d stayed up too late last night cruising the internet for information on the company that planned a visit to the Hunter property, spending time brainstorming ideas on how their expectations might be met and—go ahead and admit it, you stupid cowboy—contemplating for too long the complexities of Rio Hunter.
And now he’d overslept. They didn’t offer trail rides on Sundays anymore, he’d been told. And fortunately Rio was taking the morning shift this weekend to oversee equine care. They’d trade off, and it would be his turn next Sunday.
“Aren’t we going, Dad? You said—”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re going.” He’d promised Joey last night when he’d asked his son what he wanted to do today. It seemed a neighbor of the boy’s grandma had occasionally taken him to church—to Sunday school anyway—so that’s where he wanted to go. For the first time in his life, Cash had a free rein to impact his son for eternity, and he wasn’t going to drop the ball.
He eased his shorts-clad legs over the edge of the bed, noting the chill in the room as his bare feet hit the wooden floor. Summer in mountain country.
The Hunter family, as he’d recalled from his youth, went to a house of worship off the main road through town, Christ’s Church. His mom had taken him there a few times when he was ten, until his father had said “no more.” No son of his would be turned into a Bible-thumping sissy. Today the man didn’t want to hear a single word regarding the 180-degree turn his son’s life had taken a few years ago, refusing visits from Cash at the prison where he was now incarcerated.
Scrambling to get ready, Cash got them to church on time—barely—Joey having fortunately gotten himself dressed and fixed his own cereal. Once inside the church, a nice woman by the name of Marisela Palmer directed them to the kids’ classes. Then Cash headed in the direction of the nearest exit, intent on finding himself a cooked breakfast and lingering over a cup of hot coffee until it was time to collect Joey for the worship service.
“Good morning. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Turning at the sound of the familiar voice, he halted short of the door.
Rio. And she was looking prettier than any woman had a right to in a midcalf-length, tiered turquoise sundress and dainty silver-strapped sandals, her layered blond hair free of a ponytail tie.
She didn’t appear the least surprised that he was bolting for the door, but then she didn’t know that while he wasn’t comfortable searching out an adult class yet, he’d seldom missed a worship service since landing in jail that last time. He’d been faithful in attendance, too, at the weekly men’s group his deputy friend had invited him to once he’d been released.
Rio could think whatever she wanted about his spiritual condition. He’d leave it to God to enlighten her regarding his journey to Jesus if He thought she needed to know.
“I dropped Joey off for Sunday school. I’ll be back for worship.”
“You could stay for Sunday school, too, you know. We do have adult classes. Bert Palmer is doing a study on the topic of prayer, and Pastor Garrett McCrae is continuing a series on the book of John.”
The pastor’s name sounded familiar, but the face surfacing in his memory was that of a somewhat wild, long-haired, risk-taking teen a few years older than him. Surely not. “McCrae.
You don’t mean—”
She laughed. “Yes, my cousin. So you remember Garrett.”
“He’s a preacher now?”
“He’s been ministering here a year and a half, and newly married by a few weeks.”
McCrae, an official man of God. Would wonders never cease? Of course, there were people he’d known through the years who’d probably do a similar double take if they heard of his own turnaround. How his temper and fists had been retired from active duty.
“You’re going to stay, aren’t you?” she challenged, no doubt to see him squirm as he tried to talk his way out of remaining in the house of worship. Well, he wasn’t squirming on that count. Hadn’t in quite a few years.
“Sure,” he said, noticing with satisfaction the surprise in her eyes. “That is, if you don’t think folks will mind listening to my stomach gnaw my backbone. Which class are you taking? Prayer, right?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Everyone wants to figure out how to get more from God, don’t they?”
“Prayer isn’t strictly asking for things.”
“No, but you’d agree, wouldn’t you, that’s what often lures people to that subject?”
She gave him a curious look. “Actually, I’ve been attending Garrett’s class.”
“Then I’ll join you.”
And that’s how he ended up sitting next to the prettiest—and most fidgety—female in a packed room of all ages and, coincidentally, picking up almost exactly where the last lesson in his men’s group had left off in the same book of the Bible. Or maybe not so coincidentally. If there was anything he’d learned the past three-and-a-half years, coincidences that seemed, well, too coincidental, probably weren’t.
But he wasn’t going to start believing that running into the attractive blonde that morning might mean God had a mind to move him in the direction of Princess Rio. He was in no hurry to find himself thrown into another relationship destined for failure. Especially a relationship that involved a woman who gathered as many male admirers as Rio had following in her wake after the class. Deputy Turner, hovering in the background, looked slightly bewildered as to how to make his move in the milling herd.
