At Risk

by Kit Ehrman

  Chapter 18

  It was three-thirty by the time Greg headed home. I asked Michael if he still wanted to go in early.

  "Might as well," he said. "Too late to get any sleep now."

  He was right, of course. "Should have gone to a hotel, huh?"

  "Damn right . . . but I'm glad I didn't."

  "Why, for Christ's sake?"

  "If we weren't talking, if I hadn't thought I'd seen someone on the deck, you might have been asleep when the fire broke out . . . or when they came through the door."

  I didn't say anything.

  I scrambled some eggs while Michael toasted half a loaf of bread.

  When he'd downed his third slice, he said, "You trust your landlord?"

  "What?"

  "You said he knows some of the players. Maybe he's involved. Maybe he--"

  "No way. You don't know what you're talking about. Plus, it's only natural that he'd know a lot of people in the industry."

  Michael shrugged.

  "He even offered me a place to stay."

  "Sure. Forget it. Like you said, I don't know him. You going to tell Rachel what happened?"

  "I don't think so."

  "You should. She's a nice girl, and she cares for you, but she doesn't like it when you keep things from her. Especially your feelings. She senses that you're holding out on her as far as your concerns go about what's happening at the farm, so--"

  "How come you know so much?"

  "We talked. Anyway," Michael continued, "I fixed it for you."

  I lowered the glass of orange juice from my lips. "What, exactly, did you fix?"

  "Let's see." He propped his elbows on the counter and yawned. "I told her that you're naturally reticent. That you avoid anything that even slightly resembles pity, that you have a major fear of failure despite the fact that you can't resist taking risks. You have an overwhelming desire to prove yourself. Oh, and you're embarrassed by strong emotions." He looked over the rim of his coffee mug. "And, your mouth's open."

  I shut it. "Where the hell'd you come up with that load of crap?"

  "Observing you. I took psych before I left school. Ultimately, I found that I prefer horses to most people. They're much nicer to work with."

  "Good thing you gave it up. You're lousy at it."

  "Not true." He wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingertips. "Keep that girl, Steve. And let her in more."

  "Yes, sir."

  I jammed my last bite of toast in my mouth and dumped the dishes in the sink. "Let's hit the road."

  Michael frowned at his half-full cup of coffee. "Why the rush?"

  "I want to check the farm, make sure your horses are okay."

  He jumped up, and I saw that my alarm was infectious. "I now see why you've pursued an offensive."