Four Weeks

by Melissa Ford

  Maybe he'd left a note on her desk. She hopped off the stool and went to her office.

  She jogged to the end of the aisle but Pete's whistling stopped her from going into the office. Outside, the wiry old man was helping Trent unload some hay bales from a delivery wagon.

  She sighed and went back to the office. Talking to Pete about a schedule in front of Trent would only give him more reason to doubt her abilities. Besides, she didn't want to do anything anywhere near Trent. Keeping away from him was the only answer to not strangling him.

  Or kissing him.

  She wasn't hiding. Really. She did need to look over her projected expense summary. That ought to keep her occupied for at least an hour. Avoiding Trent was going to be extremely difficult if he insisted on hanging around the stable.

  She sank into her stiff chair and reached for the keyboard. After the screen came to life she stared hard at the columns. The numbers looked boring, just the thing to numb her brain and keep her thoughts off Trent.

  * * * *

  TRENT TOSSED THE bale onto the stack in the feed room then paused. Pete stood beside him, also checking over the damage. In the daylight it didn't look so bad. There were dark smudges of soot and a burned pile of straw, but the thick wooden walls had only been damaged on the surface. It was almost as if he'd imagined the heat and horrible clouds of smoke.

  Pete kicked at the burned hay. “So it was bad last night, huh?"

  Despite how things looked now, he'd never forget the panic coursing through him when he saw Louise, almost unconscious and hardly breathing, lying in the hayloft.

  Trent simply nodded.

  "Fire chief come by yet?"

  The workman was plying him for information, so he figured he might as well do the same. “You haven't been here?"

  Pete glanced over Trent's shoulder. “No. I had to go out for awhile."

  Trent winked, thinking he might catch the old man off guard. “Date with a pretty girl?"

  Presumably to study the room some more, the old man turned his back. “No, I had an appointment in town."

  "I haven't been around here either. I went to lunch at Soldier's. Ever eat there?"

  "Nope, don't get around much,” he replied over his shoulder.

  "It's right by the fort.” Trent pressed the old man. “Which was really packed today ... being the first big day of the season and all."

  Pete kept his back turned. “You don't say."

  "Ever been to the fort? The history is fascinating. I read about the place, but I lost track of how many times it changed hands between the British and the Americans."

  The old man took his time answering. “I'm not one for history and stuff.” He spun around with a forced smile. “I got to get back to work, boss."

  Trent waved him off. “Sure, Pete. Thanks."

  He dipped his chin. “I'll send the chief your way if I see him,” he said as he hobbled off.

  The old man was lying, which meant he was hiding something. Sucking in a steadying breath, Trent left the burned-out feed room to find Gail. He had a good idea that she would have another story to tell—one that didn't match up to Pete's or include a trip to the fort that afternoon.

  As he hurried to the rental office a renewed sense of fear for Louise's safety burned through him. She had no idea her two employees were scheming together. After that fiasco at lunch, he couldn't tell her what he thought—that Pete and Gail were up to no good. She'd probably think he'd made it up just to get rid of her.

  He was getting closer to uncovering whatever truth lie hidden in the stable, whatever the old building had to tell him about his father. But he was also putting Louise at risk.

  Since she was too stubborn to leave, and he couldn't bear firing her, he had to stay as close to her as possible, watching and protecting her. He wouldn't get any closer than he had to. Only close enough to keep her safe.

  Chapter Ten

  LOUISE HELD UP the expense reports and beamed. Those and the hefty pile of bank deposit slips sitting on the edge of her desk were testimony to all her hard work. She'd been at Hawk's for two weeks and already things were turning around. She was even considering hiring another person to help her with the rental desk. Gail was excellent, but she couldn't handle the crowds that mobbed the desk in the afternoons.

  If business kept going the way it was, Trent would have no argument against staying open and keeping her on to manage the stable after her trial period was over. She'd not only proven her abilities as a manager, she'd proven Hawk's was worth keeping.

  She took pride in the accomplishment and knew that her business success should fulfill her, but for some reason that escaped her, it didn't. Why did happiness still elude her? She'd assumed that when she'd finally found a job where she could really make a difference her whole life would change. Yet restlessness clung to her. Complete happiness remained out of reach.

  In all the jobs she'd had, she'd been waiting for the opportunity to prove that she knew how to make a business succeed. At Hawk's she'd found what she'd been searching for, but the sense of fulfillment and the excitement she'd expected was missing.

  It didn't make sense. Instead of being happy with work and concentrating on business, she kept thinking about Trent. Each morning when she walked to Hawk's, and each evening when she left, she looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him; he'd all but disappeared. Occasionally she'd find a work-related note left on the office desk or a message at Sally's, but other than that it was as though he didn't exist.

  As much as she didn't want to accept it, she missed him. If he came by to ask how things were going she'd have an excuse to talk with him. Wouldn't he be encouraged when he saw how well his business was doing?

  They hadn't talked since that awful lunch at Soldier's—the same day the fire chief came by and told her that the fire had been caused by bad wiring

  Whatever she'd thought had happened between them the night of the fire meant nothing to Trent.

  She should be glad. She hadn't wanted a summer fling, or worse, a romance with her boss. So why did she miss him so much? Why did she continue to waste time thinking about him? It was foolish. She barely knew him.

  She sighed and got up from her desk. Maybe she was just lonely. She headed out of the office to check on things out front. Maybe she needed to make an effort to go out a couple times a week. Gail had some friends on the island and they'd asked her to come to dinner a few times.

  Next time she got an invitation, she'd say yes. Going out with some carefree college girls had to be a lot better than sitting on Sally's front porch staring at the beauty of the island and wondering why, when she had everything she wanted, she felt so forlorn and depressed.

  She needed to work harder during the day and get out and have a good time at night. Everything would be just fine. Better than fine. It'd be perfect.

  * * * *

  TRENT WATCHED THE other diners laugh and enjoy the restaurant luncheon, but his own roast beef sandwich sat untouched on his plate. The food served at his hotel was excellent, but eating held no appeal. He'd been keeping a close eye on Louise, so he knew about the long hard hours she'd been putting in. Business at the stable had picked up and although he hadn't seen the books yet, it was a safe bet that Hawk's was doing better than it had in a long time. As the owner of the business, he owed her a word of thanks and congratulations. That meant talking—in person.

  Surely he could keep things professional with her long enough to accomplish that. A quick meal at a decent place to show his appreciation ought to do the trick. But not The Majestic. Stirring up unwanted memories would be counter productive. He should be able to have a business conversation somewhere else with her. After all, they hadn't talked in two weeks. His attraction to her surely had cooled since then.

  The lingering memory of her anger and rejection was still with him and he didn't want to be left sitting at an empty table again. He tossed down his napkin and went to the bar. After he got the attention of the college kid behind it,
he attempted a smile. “Have a phone I can use?"

  The bartender glanced his way, then grabbed a cordless phone and laid it on the counter.

  "It's local,” Trent offered.

  The bartender looked like he hadn't had much sleep lately. “Just leave it there when you're done,” he mumbled then wandered off.

  Trent dialed the number to Hawk's. Louise's cheerful voice greeted him and his chest tightened. Keeping his emotions in check was going to be a lot harder than he thought. But not impossible.

  A long stretch of silence followed his greeting.

  "What can I do for you, Trent?” she asked, her friendly tone faltering.

  "You've done a lot for me."

  She paused. “I'm not sure what you mean."

  He smiled at the bristle in her voice. She hadn't forgotten their kisses either. At least he wasn't suffering alone.

  "I'm talking about Hawk's, Louise. You're doing a great job."

  "Thank you."

  He chuckled at her reluctance to talk to him. The irony that her attitude made him stupidly glad that their connection was still there wasn't wasted on him. “Be at the stable tonight around six. I'll come by, we'll talk about how Hawk's is doing.” Wanting to avoid giving her false hope, he added. “You can show me the records and what you've got planned for the next two weeks."

  Silence hummed across the line. He grimaced, realizing she still thought she had a shot of convincing him not to sell the stable.

  "You'll be ready?"

  "Yes, Mr. Parker. I'll be ready."

  In spite of himself he grinned at the firm tone in her voice. He knew how to break through that icy exterior ... if he wanted to do so.

  "See you at six.” He hung up. He could keep his emotions in check and enjoy being with her at the same time. Everything would be fine as long as he didn't touch her.

  * * * *

  TRENT STOPPED AT THE gate to Hawk's. Louise had turned things around so quickly selling the stable in two weeks seemed a shame, because he was sort of beginning to like the place, but he had no reason to keep it. Mr. Robbins assured him that both deals were coming along well, so if Zigler's backed out he could still sell to Klinger.

  Maybe dealing with his father's sudden death had made him shook him up, but he was getting his head together now. The fire was an accident, his suspicions of Gail and Pete unfounded, and Louise hated his guts. Hanging around the island and wasting his time trying to discover something about a man who never cared about him was pointless. He needed to get back to his life. He'd waited to long to accept the truth—the ramshackle place in front of him didn't hold anything for him. He never learned anything about his father while the man was alive and it was stupid for him to think he could learn anything after his death.

  Tonight, he'd tell Louise he was leaving.

  Trent spotted Gail waving in the last riders for the night. That meant Gail and Pete would soon be leaving for the day and he and Louise would be alone. Leaving the bright evening sunshine behind him, Trent ducked inside the barn.

  Even though no major repair work had been done, the place didn't look nearly as shabby as it had the first time he'd seen it. The cobwebs were gone, the aisle was swept clean, and the whole place smelled of freshly cleaned leather, new hay, and horses. It wasn't half-bad. It reminded him of Louise.

  Petting a few of the horses as he went along, he worked his way down the aisle to the office. Sitting at the desk, Louise was a pretty sight. “Hungry?” he asked.

  She looked up from the papers scattered around her. Her gaze went from his face to the boxes in his hands. “I didn't realize this was a dinner meeting."

  A touch of humor lingered in her voice, but he couldn't be sure, so he hesitated to smile.

  "You haven't eaten yet have you?"

  She shook her head.

  "Then it's a dinner meeting.” He moved toward the desk. “Let's eat first, then talk."

  She tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

  "You look great,” he said without thinking.

  She glanced away as she smiled and cleared off the desk. With a few quick movements, she had everything in two neat piles. She separated out a file folder and positioned it on the corner of the desk.

  It was probably the latest numbers. It didn't matter what the figures were. Business was hopping. Whatever she had to report wouldn't change anything. He'd be leaving the island after dinner. And he'd be selling Hawk's in two weeks.

  * * * *

  WITH SHAKING FINGERS Louise finished stacking the papers to the side while Trent unpacked the food. The chicken and mashed potatoes smelled fantastic. Her stomach rumbled and reminded her that she hadn't eaten since the toast she'd had for breakfast at Sally's.

  After he finished setting out the dinners, he popped open a can of soda and offered it to her. “Sorry, no glasses."

  "This is fine.” She shrugged. “It's already more than I expected, really. Thank you."

  "No thanks necessary. It's the least I can do, considering all the work you've been putting into this place."

  Louise avoided his gaze by looking at the fried drumsticks. She was curious about how he knew she'd been doing anything at all. He certainly hadn't been around, how did he know what she'd been up to? Maybe he asked Gail or Pete. “What have you been doing to keep yourself busy, Trent?"

  "Just seeing the island, I guess."

  She scooped up a bite of pepper-dusted potato. He acted as though he was engrossed in his meal, but was that really the case?

  Given their short, but rocky history together, there could be any number of things on his mind. The kisses they shared, or the nasty scene at the restaurant the day after the fire, for starters.

  Judging by the way he avoided her gaze, she figured it was something along the lines of that second option. She was determined not to break under the pressure of the tension, so she smiled and started in on her chicken.

  If she ate slowly, she could force him to finish first. Then he'd have to do the talking. As it was, only the sounds of the stable broke the silence. The frustrating man matched her bite for bite, so they finished at the same time.

  "You must have some records you want to show me,” he said, wiping his fingers with a white paper napkin.

  She dropped the chicken bones into the box they'd come out of and accepted a towelette he offered her. With deliberate motions she wiped her hands free of chicken grease. “Of course. That is why you're here.” Looking over the figures and future projections was something she could let herself get excited about.

  He cleaned up the trash from their meal while she took out the papers detailing Hawk's progress. She handed them over and waited in anxious silence as he studied the results of her hard work. His blank features gave her no insight into his reaction, but it seemed to Louise that the awkward tension from remained.

  He laid the pages aside. “It's more than I could've done."

  Before she could reply, Gail popped her head through the doorway. “Bye. I'll see you tomorrow bright and early."

  Louise leaned sideways to see around Trent's shoulder. “Has Pete gone, too?"

  "Yep. He left about fifteen minutes ago.” Gail added goodbye to both of them before disappearing into the aisle.

  "Thanks, for everything,” Louise called after her.

  She turned to Trent. His lukewarm comments weren't exactly the praise she'd foolishly been hoping for, but at least he'd acknowledged that she was capable. But that wasn't enough. “You're satisfied with how things are going? Do you have any questions or concerns you'd like me to address?"

  He studied her so closely that she shifted in her seat. When he spoke his tone was flat. “You must be as qualified as my father thought you to be."

  She bristled. “You say that like being qualified is bad."

  "Obviously, it's not."

  Her temper rose. “It's not what you were hoping for. What you really wanted was an excuse to sell, isn't that right?"

  He frowned and leaned
back. “I agreed to your deal and I'm sticking with it, Miss Hart."

  Miss Hart. Pressing him too hard could mean disaster, so she retreated to safer ground. “I appreciate that, Trent. I just wanted things to be clear between us, that's all."

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Things are clear all right. No need to worry about that."

  She tried to soften him with a smile. He chuckled easily and sounded like he had that first day when she'd heard him talking on the phone. “Am I so easy that you think you can manipulate me with a smile?” He was grinning, so he meant the words to tease her.

  Somehow, she laughed with him.

  But then there was something in his gaze, a subtle change that made her pause. “What is it Trent? Do you have something to tell me?"

  His expression sobered. “I do appreciate everything you've accomplished. Like I said, it's much more than I could've accomplished. As you already know, I have absolutely no experience with horses.” He pointed down at the papers. “You've done a lot in a short period of time."

  Louise was pleased with the compliment. His confidence thrilled her more than he'd ever know, but she didn't make the mistake of reading anything personal into his words. The threat of him selling was always close.

  "You don't need me around,” he said.

  Louise thought about asking him what he meant by that, but hesitated. She had a suspicion she wasn't going to like the answer.

  A muted pounding took her attention. The rhythmic sound made the hair on her neck rise. She looked at Trent, but he'd turned toward the doorway, probably straining as she was, to listen.

  "We're the only ones here aren't we?” he asked quietly.

  "I thought so."

  "Maybe it's just the wind.” He turned around but remained silent.

  A peculiar reaction swept through Louise and she shivered. Trying to ward off the unexplainable chill, she rubbed her arms.

  Then she heard a distant scratching. There was no reason why the noise should make her tense, but something wasn't right. She sat stiffly, again straining to hear more.