There was bad blood between father and son back then—that’s for sure.
Jordan swallowed hard and took two steps toward the barn. He eyed the stump and halter but didn’t comment. “That’s all in the past. I hear you used to work for Vinny and Angela on the other side of the county.”
Zach nodded. “Yeah. So?”
“I heard you worked there breaking green horses.”
“Yep. Moved everything I owned from California to Texas and broke every horse they brought me for a year, till Vinny died.”
Jordan gave him a pointed stare. Turning back toward the mountains, he said, “Are you interested in doing that kind of work again?” Jordan didn’t look at Zach but waited for Zach to speak.
“Are you offering?”
“Maybe. If you’re interested. I need someone to break new colts. I figure . . . you might be the one to talk to. I hear Rushing also has a successful way of training show horses. Figured you’ve learned his technique while you’ve been working here.”
Zach’s surprise bled into his voice. “Maybe.”
“How long you been here?”
“Long enough. You come offering me a job, or did you come for somethin’ else?”
Jordan crossed his arms and looked around the yard. “I thought I’d mention the job, but I also came looking for Gerald.”
“Not home.”
“What about Daniel?”
“Not home either.”
“When will they be back?”
“Don’t know.”
Jordan stared at Zach, waiting for him to say more. When he didn’t, he said, “Think about what I said. Let me know if you’re interested.” He pulled a card from his pocket. “My number’s on the card.”
Zach took the card and stuck it in his back pocket.
Jordan leaned over the stump and looked at the keys and halter spread out on the stump.
“What’s this?”
Zach jerked up the halter. “Haven’t you seen a halter before?”
Jordan stiffened his back. “Of course. I just wondered what you’re doing with it.” When Zach didn’t comment, Jordan leaned into his personal space. “I want to talk to Gerald or Daniel. I’m running the Welsh ranch now, and I’d like to find out how they handle certain things on the farm, that’s all. Will you tell them I stopped by?”
Zach nodded and pulled on the halter to loosen the hole in the leather a bit more. He tried to ignore the man still standing beside him.
“That’s a sharp looking knife you have there.” Jordan picked up the Swiss army knife and turned it around in his hand.
Zach took the knife from Jordan and pulled out all the attachments. “Yep. It’s a beaut. It has almost any tool you could ask for, and it cost a pretty penny too.” Pride filled his voice as he rotated the knife in front of Jordan.
Jordan nodded. “Not exactly what I’d use to poke holes in leather. Don’t you have a hole punch?”
Zach closed up the attachments in a few short movements and stuck it back in the stump. “Yep, I’ll tell the boss you came by to see him.”
Jordan took two steps toward the front of the building. “Would it be all right if I took a look around the barn?”
Zach shrugged. “Reckon it’d be all right. I’ll see if Max can show you around.” Zach took the halter with him as he stepped into the office. Max was nowhere to be found, so he walked back to Jordan who was standing at the corner of the barn. “I’d better show you around. The boss don’t like strangers ’round his horses.”
Zach showed Jordan around the place. First, he took him into the training arena and explained how Daniel’s training methods were done. He pretended he knew all the steps of training, and pride swelled his voice as he told Jordan he was Daniel’s number one assistant.
After Zach showed him around the main areas of the barn, he said, “I better get back to my chores. It’ll be dark before I’m done. ”
Jordan nodded. “Think about what I said, but don’t think too long. I have to fill the position soon.”
Zach watched Jordan walk away and bellowed out a laugh when the car drove away. Jordan bought his bragging about being a good trainer. He was a better actor than he thought. He grinned. Jordan thought he’d “learned something” while working here, and he’d only been here three months. That was a laugh. ‘Bout all he’d been doing in that time was mucking out stalls. If he took that job, he’d have to learn all Daniel’s tricks before he left. No sense in throwing in with Jordan if he didn’t have an edge.
When Zach turned back toward the old stump, he noticed something shining in the grass. The leather hole punch. He must have dropped it there on one of his smoking breaks. He picked it up and punched through the halter. The hole was more rounded now. Perfect. After checking the halter to make sure the buckle worked perfectly, he went to find Max and show him the excellent job he’d done. Maybe it would earn him points with the boss, at least until he took the other job.
THIRTY
“TURN JUST A LITTLE TO the left, toward the light.”
Daniel’s shoulders shifted toward the windows in the studio, and he raised his eyebrows, asking for guidance.
“Much better. Now just relax and try to stay in that position.”
Daniel laughed. “That’s an oxymoron, isn’t it?”
Her tentative laugh sailed across the room. “Well . . . do your best, okay?”
She stood in front of the easel and tried to ignore Princess rubbing against her leg and filling the room with her purrs. Finally, the cat settled at the base of the easel and rested her head on Marti’s foot.
Daniel watched the cat settle in and commented. “I can’t believe how friendly that cat is with you. It’s not in her character
at all.”
Marti said nothing but smiled. She picked up a blue-green pastel and began forming shapes of Daniel’s face on the sanded pastel paper. After five minutes of uncomfortable silence, and watching his eyes observe her every move, Marti’s hands began to sweat.
“You can talk if you like. It’ll help you loosen up, and it won’t affect my sketch enough to worry about.”
“Oh . . . okay. Tell me something about your family.”
Hashtag: NotAGoodIdea.
“Uh . . . I’d rather you do the talking so I can concentrate on my sketch. Why don’t you tell me about your time in the army?”
Daniel frowned. “Well, I don’t remember anything about the army, but I’ll tell you about raising horses. I’ve been doing that for as long as I can remember.”
“Okay. That sounds good.”
As Daniel launched into the details of breeding, training, and selling prize-winning quarter horses, his eyes glowed with an excitement she used to love to see. Her heart plummeted to the bottom of her stomach. Bringing back those memories was physically painful and made her mouth go dry.
After sketching for twenty minutes, Marti’s psyche had taken a beating, and she’d endured all the memories she could stand. She laid the rose madre pastel back in the wooden box and stood back to distance herself from Daniel and the fast growing likeness of him in front of her.
“Okay, let’s take a short break.”
She nodded her head as she stood evaluating her work. After brushing off the excess dust at the bottom of the paper, she held it up carefully for Daniel to see.
Daniel stood captivated, his eyes traveling over the square piece of paper.
“That’s amazing. It must have taken you years to learn that skill.”
Marti shook her head, gazing at the portrait to keep from looking at his eyes. “Actually, I’ve only been painting about two years.” She put the picture back on the easel. “I think it’s a God-given talent.”
“Two years? You’re kidding, aren’t you?” He moved over beside her and looked over her shoulder at the loose sketch of his face. He leaned in toward her, examining the picture closely.
Marti felt heat travel to her face when he stepped closer—even before she felt the warmth of his
arm next to hers. The musky smell of his aftershave sent a ripple of emotion shooting through her veins. Her knees, almost too weak to hold her up, locked into position. Turning her head slightly, she was so close that the image of him blurred. He turned closer toward her and looked into her eyes. The contemplation in his gaze quickly turned to . . . what? Recognition? Familiarity? Longing?
All she knew was that he stilled immediately, peered into her eyes until he found her soul, and held it prisoner. She couldn’t move. Something inside her came to life, a longing so strong it consumed her and begged to be set free.
Marti saw the question in his eyes before they moved down to her lips. His hand moved to touch her face then stopped. “I feel a closeness to you, Marti. Are you sure . . .” He stopped in mid-sentence and moved his head a little closer. From the doorway, someone gasped.
“Daniel!”
Like a horrible reminder of something dead, Marti remembered why she was here.
Veronica.
Daniel jerked away from Marti and took a guilty step backward. He turned toward the angry head of red hair standing in the doorway.
“Veronica, come see the sketch Mar . . . uh . . . Ms. Rushing has done. It’s amazing. A perfect likeness so far.”
“Ms. Rushing!”
Princess let out a mournful wail and went flying into the bedroom and under the bed.
Furious was a mild word for the emotion Marti saw flash across Veronica’s eyes. Livid was closer to the mark.
Veronica’s eyes diminished to slits. Her lips thinned to tight small lines.
“Daniel, your father asked me to tell you they need you in the office downstairs. My father is there, and they want to discuss the auction next week.”
Daniel glanced at Marti and spoke with an edge of annoyance. “I’ll be back later to finish the session.”
Marti nodded at him and began sorting her pastels into the proper sections of the box, trying to ignore the foot-tapping, arms-folded, fury-filled woman staring at her from the doorway.
“What do you think you are doing here?”
The first sentence out of Veronica’s mouth was laced with a warning that sounded as deadly as strychnine.
Marti raised her chin. “I’m painting Daniel’s portrait for Gerald.”
Veronica glared at her, doubt filling her eyes and sarcasm lacing her words. “Sure you are.”
Veronica took deliberate steps over to Marti and pushed herself into Marti’s face. Her voice sounded red-hot—almost enough to sizzle the hair on Marti’s forehead.
“Leave him alone, Martha. You had a chance to make him happy, and you blew it. Not only did you hurt Daniel by killing his sister, but you disgraced the whole family with your drunkenness and promiscuity. Don’t think for a minute Daniel will ever take you back, even if he does remember your horrible excuse for a marriage.”
Marti blanched white at the rage filling that one paragraph and the insecurity Veronica’s words thrust through her heart. The air seemed to seep from her like a balloon with the tiniest of holes, but she summoned one last burst of anger.
Through gritted teeth, she said, “My name is Marti, and it’s none of your business what happens between Daniel and me.” After that fiery statement and before her legs became so weak she couldn’t stand, she walked out of the room and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Slumping against the door she bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that formed in spite of her attempt to keep them at bay.
Remind yourself why you’re here, Marti, even if this is crazy.
Veronica would do anything to keep Daniel, even lie if necessary, and there would be nothing Marti could do about it. In spite of all Marti’s attempts to make Daniel remember what real love felt like, Veronica might still become his wife. And that filled Marti with a sadness so strong it sucked the life right out of her heart.
THIRTY-ONE
VERONICA PACED ACROSS THE STONE pathway outside the Rushing ranch, waiting for her father. Anger festered inside her. How dare Marti waltz back into Daniel’s home and pretend she was here to paint a portrait! Marti couldn’t even paint—much less a portrait. She was here to cause trouble.
She furiously patted her foot on the sienna stones. “Marti—indeed!”
No matter what she thought of Marti’s name change, Marti being here would definitely complicate things. She might even make Daniel think twice about his engagement. She would put doubts in Daniel’s head and confuse him about who could truly make him happy.
Daniel belongs to me!
Veronica squeezed her fists and stared at the second story window where she’d seen Marti flirting with Daniel. Fury and fear built inside her until she gave in to the desire for retaliation. What could she do that would hurt the most? Make Marti look inept in front of Daniel? Tell Daniel who Marti really was? That would make him boil. She had exaggerated Marti’s character flaws enough that Daniel would be furious when he found out Gerald let Marti slip back into his life.
But . . . telling Daniel that Marti was his wife might blow up in her face.
Daniel already felt a physical pull toward Marti—Veronica felt a chill as she remembered the look in his eyes. When Veronica walked into the studio, their faces had been only inches apart. Marti was batting her eyes at Daniel—pretending to be so shy and feminine—and Daniel was confused, that’s all. If Veronica told Daniel who Marti was, he might decide to forgive Marti and give her a second chance. She couldn’t let that happen. After all, she would make Daniel happier than Marti ever had, wouldn’t she? She was beautiful, a much better horsewoman, and from a wealthy ranching family—an excellent catch in most people’s eyes, though she had to admit those qualities hadn’t drawn Daniel to her before Marti came along. Marti—a nobody with no family and no future. What had he seen in her?
Veronica shook the memories from her head and focused on the present. Daniel hated confrontation. He wouldn’t like it if she acted vindictive by telling him who Marti really was. That would push him away even further. She’d have to act without exposing Marti, but Marti definitely had to be taken care of.
The side door opened, and she turned to see her father walking out the door with Gerald. Daniel followed closely behind. Daniel came over to the truck and grabbed her hand. His face seemed a little pale.
“Veronica, why are you leaving? I thought we were going riding.”
A debate went on inside her—should she show him that she was peeved? Or should she act as if jealousy was the last thing on her mind? She decided on the former.
She pasted a little pout on her lips and looked at him through her lashes. “I guess I was a little jealous, darling. It made me feel terribly uncomfortable to see you standing so close to that artist—especially since you know how it feels to have someone be unfaithful.”
Daniel’s eyes flashed a bright brown. “What do you mean?”
“I felt a little like you probably felt when you heard your wife had been flirting with another man.”
Daniel dropped her hands and backed up. He didn’t say a word, but Veronica could see the conflict going on in his eyes. Had she chosen the right course of action?
Finally, he spoke. “Nikki, I was just looking over her shoulder at the picture she had drawn with her pastels, that’s all. I didn’t stand beside her for any other reason. I was looking at the picture.”
“Well, how would you have felt if you had found me standing that close to a tall, handsome cowboy? Wouldn’t you have been just a little bit jealous?”
Daniel seemed to consider that scenario. He shook his head. “Nikki, I think trust is unarguably the most important thing in a relationship. Didn’t I learn that from the mistakes of my first marriage? If I trusted you, it wouldn’t make any difference, but I admit, I can see how it might have made you feel a little uncomfortable.”
A shiver of uncertainty traveled through Veronica. Had she gone too far? Veronica shook her head. “Okay, darling. We’ll let it drop. I do trust you, but I don’t like that art
ist living in this house. Can’t you get her a hotel room in town?”
Daniel’s expression turned dark, and she decided changing the subject was the best course of action. Insisting on moving Marti to a hotel only accentuated her lack of trust. It was Marti she didn’t trust, but she didn’t want Daniel to think it was him. At least this conversation might give him something to think about.
“Look, darling. It’s getting late. Why don’t we reschedule our ride for tomorrow?” She kissed him on the lips and gave him a hug. “I love you, Daniel. You know that, don’t you?”
Daniel nodded but kept silent.
“I’ll be by tomorrow for our ride.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ll see you then.”
Disappointed that he didn’t assure her of his love, Veronica stepped past their fathers and climbed into her father’s truck to gaze unseeing toward the pasture.
Daniel shook hands with Shane when he approached the driver’s door. Shane got in behind the wheel and spoke through the open window to Gerald.
“I’ll call the auctioneer next week, Gerald, and see if he’d like to stay at the house. This is the first auction we’ve had in our county. We want to make a good impression.”
Gerald nodded. “I think we’ll get one hundred percent participation from the adjoining counties, and I know the Quarter Horse Association is on board. If we keep up our end of the bargain, I think we can be assured of future events being held in our county. I’m glad the path of that doggone wildfire has turned away from the town. Hopefully, they’ll have it out soon.”
Veronica sat biting her lip. She wanted Daniel to feel her aloofness, but at the same time, she didn’t want to make him angry. She wanted to leave him missing her. As her father cranked the truck and pulled away from the curb, she leaned toward the window, smiled, and blew Daniel a kiss. He waved and smiled.
Yes! That was perfect. He loved her. She could tell by that grin on his face. Now maybe he’d think twice about how he acted when hanging around Ms. Portrait Artist.
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