Star Bright

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Star Bright Page 4

by Catherine Anderson


  He was talking too fast. Rainie rubbed her temple, barely able to assimilate one thing before he moved on to the next.

  “If you want to start a retirement fund, I’ll hook you up with my broker. I don’t match funds or anything like that.”

  “No, of course you don’t.” In her experience, only major corporations contributed to pension and retirement plans. “I would never expect that.”

  “I do offer paid vacations, though, two weeks the first year, three the second, and a full month after you’ve been here five years. You’ll work Monday through Friday, eight to five, with an hour and a half off for lunch and breaks. We have an honor system here, so it’s entirely up to you how you divvy up that time. Some people take a short lunch to allow for more breaks throughout the day. I don’t care as long as I get an honest day’s work out of you. Unless there’s some kind of emergency, you’ll have all weekends off. You can take twelve paid sick days a year—or use them as comp time.”

  Rainie was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he’d offered her so much money. She would have been tickled to get ten dollars an hour plus benefits. “Did you say sixty thousand?”

  “After a six-month performance review, I’ll give you a raise if you’re worth your salt.”

  Rainie shook her head. “No, no.” She held up a hand. “I’m not hoping for more. Just the opposite. It seems like so much.”

  “You’ll work hard for every penny. Trust me on that.” His dark eyes shimmered with humor. “My office looks like a tornado struck, and my business records are a complete mess. I want someone who’ll keep me organized, file everything, and track my financial transactions on a daily basis. I’ll also take you up on that mean cup of coffee occasionally, and sometimes I may ask you to drive into town to run errands. You’ll give one hundred percent when you’re here. Think you can handle all that?”

  Even though Peter had destroyed Rainie’s self-esteem on a personal level, she still had faith in her professional abilities. “I think so.”

  A dimple slashed his darkly tanned cheek when he grinned at her. “Fair warnin’, I’m extremely lackadaisical with paperwork. You’ll have to keep after me like a drill sergeant, and even then, I’ll ignore you. I toss things here and there, and then can’t remember where I put them. I forget receipts in my truck. Then in a high wind, they go sailin’ away. I need someone who’ll go out every day and collect them from the cab, because I’m preoccupied with other things.”

  Fascinated, Rainie relaxed on the chair. “What other things?”

  “My horses.” He lifted his broad shoulders in another shrug. “They’re my raison d’être.”

  “You speak French?”

  “A little, three years in high school and another two in college. I did go to university, believe it or not.”

  He didn’t look like a college grad, but maybe that was a preconceived notion on her part. “What’s your alma mater?”

  “I went to Oregon State for my ag degree, then to the University of Idaho to study equine husbandry, animal genetics, and a little endocrinology.”

  “I never realized it took so much knowledge to raise horses.”

  “It does if you want to raise truly fine horses, and that’s my focus. I’m not in this business to make money. Well,” he amended with a laugh, “the money is nice, and I do bring in a substantial annual gross, but that has never been my motivation, maybe because my dad made enough when I was a kid to keep all of us in high cotton until we’re pushin’ up daisies.”

  Rainie’s father had made a fortune developing computer software, so she understood what he meant. She didn’t feel free to share that information with him, though.

  “You have a large family?” Rainie had always yearned for brothers and sisters—or even a cousin. But her mother had been an orphan, and her dad had broken ties with his relatives before her birth. She’d grown up as an only child with just one set of grandparents she’d never met.

  “I’ve got three brothers and a baby sister. That’s a large family by some people’s standards, I guess. I think my mom and dad might have had more kids, but she died in childbirth with Samantha. My father didn’t remarry until just recently.”

  “I’m sorry. About your mother, I mean.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It happened a long time ago. Sam is a grown woman now and happily married to a great horse vet. Life goes on.” He straightened on the chair. “Anyway . . .” He rubbed beside his nose. “When it comes to this ranch, it’s all about the horses for me—their physical comfort, improving their bloodlines, trainin’ ’em, and makin’ sure, before I sell one of ’em, that they go to an excellent home. You wouldn’t believe the equine abuse and neglect that goes on across this country. I fly to check out the facilities where my horse will be boarded, talk to neighborin’ ranchers, and even interview officers on the local rodeo committee to make sure there have been no complaints against a prospective buyer. Even if he or she checks out with flyin’ colors, I still worry before I finalize the sale. Seemingly nice people sometimes beat horses. They put them out into pastures without any shelter in bitter weather. If money gets tight, they buy low-grade hay or none at all. Water lines freeze up and the horse goes thirsty. Placin’ my horses with responsible owners is somethin’ I take very seriously.”

  Rainie thought of Thomas, who, she suspected, had been left behind to starve. The poor cat had eaten four cans of tuna since his arrival last night. “Some people have something important missing in their makeup,” she said.

  “That’s a nice way of puttin’ it.” He pushed at her application, then folded up a corner of the top sheet, worrying the triangular tuft with thick, calloused fingers. “I’d like to lock those people up in a room and give ’em only enough food and water to stay alive. Better yet, put them in a pen and let them try to eat snow and nothin’ else. People who neglect animals need to starve and go thirsty themselves. Maybe then they’d have a heart.”

  “At least animal protection laws are getting stricter.”

  “Not strict enough.”

  Rainie agreed. A lot went on in the world that she felt was deplorable.

  “Anyway, I didn’t mean to get off on a tangent,” he apologized. “Back to the original subject, I’m way too busy in the stable to spare much time for paperwork. If I’ve got a sick horse, I’m not thinkin’ about the bill from the vet or the receipts for medication. I’m thinkin’ only about the animal and gettin’ it well. In short, I’m a great horseman but a lousy businessman.”

  Searching his gaze, Rainie saw only sincerity, which led her to believe he truly did care for his horses. When it came to men, though, she was a poor judge of character. “So you need someone to balance you out?”

  “Exactly. At tax time, I wish I was more organized, but the rest of the year, I seldom even think about it.”

  Rainie felt more of the tension drain from her limbs. “I will think about it,” she assured him. “In an office environment, ‘meticulous’ is my middle name.”

  “I may drive you nuts, then.”

  For sixty thousand a year and good benefits, Rainie would happily go a little crazy. “The wage is very generous. I would be happy with two-thirds of that.”

  He arched a dark eyebrow. “Really? Why sell yourself short?”

  Rainie had worked for a major corporation and earned only forty-five thousand a year, and that had been in Seattle, where the cost of living was much higher. She felt like a thief. “How about settling on fifty?”

  He shook his head. “My full-time stable hands get forty, and none of them have a college degree.” He noticed her incredulous expression and grinned. “There’s a method to my madness. I detest rapid turnover, so I pay a livable wage to keep my employees happy. In the end, I come out the winner. I’m not trainin’ new people all the time or constantly hasslin’ with idiots who don’t know what they’re doin’. Someone with your education and experience deserves to start near the top of my pay scale. My foreman gets eighty a year,
twice what the hired hands get. He’s invaluable to me when it comes to daily operations. You’ll be invaluable when it comes to the business end of things. I think sixty a year is fair. Over time, with annual raises, you’ll make what my foreman does.”

  Rainie couldn’t believe he’d just refused to pay her less. “Is there a money tree in your backyard or something?”

  With a chuckle, he pushed to his feet. “Somethin’ like that. You ready to take that tour?”

  Rainie breathed in the fresh, sun-drenched air as she accompanied Parker Harrigan across the gravel parking area to the big metal building she’d noticed earlier. It was much farther from the house than it had appeared to be from inside her car. The smells out here were different, she realized, some of the scents unidentifiable. A faint pungency underscored the sweet smells of grass, clover, and wildflowers. She thought she detected a piney odor on the breeze as well. Overall, it was a pleasant blend.

  As they walked, he gestured around them.

  “Those are the outdoor stalls,” he informed her, pointing off to their right at a flank of enclosures sheltered by a long, corrugated-metal roof. At the far end, Rainie saw two women giving a reddish brown horse a bath. “We only use them as holdin’ pens durin’ the day.”

  Within the structure, three men worked with shovels. One of them, a small, wiry man of about thirty with brown hair and blue eyes, waved at his boss.

  “That’s Jericho Steelman,” Harrigan explained. “Did the rodeo circuit for several years as a clown until he injured his leg. Now he’s got a permanent limp and can’t do clown work anymore.”

  “That’s too bad.” As the young man resumed work, Rainie studied the stalls, which looked perfectly fine to her. “Why do you only use those as holding pens?”

  “Unless we’re workin’ with ’em, I like to keep my horses inside the stable.”

  “Don’t they prefer to be outdoors?”

  “They’ve got paddocks outside their stalls, so they can go out whenever they want durin’ the day. And they’re exercised regularly.”

  Some of the larger pieces of gravel poked through the soft soles of Rainie’s slip-ons, hurting her feet. She made a mental note to get a sturdy pair of shoes or boots. “I noticed what looked like infrared cameras at the gate.”

  “And all along the fence line,” he informed her. “Good eye. Most people don’t know what they are. If you accept the job, I’ll give you a sticker for your windshield. There’s a camera at the gate that reads the bar code and automatically lets you in.”

  “Is so much security really necessary way out here?”

  He chuckled. “Probably not. But I’d rather be safe than sorry. My sister had some horses poisoned not that long ago.”

  “Oh, how awful.” Rainie shivered and rubbed her arms. “Is her ranch near here?”

  He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. With the movement, his blue shirt drew taut over the bunched muscles in his upper arm. “Right over there. See the green metal roofs?”

  Rainie squinted against the sunlight. “My goodness, she’s close.”

  “My whole family is close,” he explained. “Originally, this was a twelve-hundred-acre ranch. My dad subdivided it into six separate parcels, keepin’ one for himself and givin’ one to each of us kids when we turned twenty-one. Samantha was the first of us to go with high security. For reasons of his own, my brother Clint came next. Now all of us have protected perimeters.”

  “Your horses must be very valuable,” she observed as they walked along a paddock fence.

  “Yes, extremely valuable, but, like I said, it isn’t about the money for me. I love ’em.” A flush crept up his sun-tanned neck, and he smiled sheepishly. “Not very macho of me to admit, I know, but that’s the truth. If someone hurt one of my horses, my good sense would go in my hip pocket, and I’d have murder in my eye.”

  Rainie hoped she never saw Parker Harrigan in a rage. He wasn’t a big man by normal standards, but he had an aura of indomitable strength about him that made men like Peter seem soft and insubstantial.

  They circled two pickups that were parked in the shade of the building. Uncomfortable with the silence, she asked, “How do you exercise your horses, by riding them?”

  “Whenever possible, yes. When we can’t, we put ’em on the walker.” He inclined his head at a contraption that reminded Rainie of a huge circular clothesline. “We can exercise four to six animals at a time on that. I prefer ridin’ ’em, though. More fun for the horse, and also for me.”

  He touched a hand to the small of her back as he opened the personnel door of the building and ushered her through the entrance. A gentlemanly gesture, she assured herself, nothing more. There was no reason for her to shrink away.

  “Oh, my.” Amazed, she took in the well-lit, cavernous interior. A riding area held center stage. The paunchy older man in cowboy garb whom she’d seen earlier worked with a leashed horse, snapping a long whip at the animal’s heels to make it run in circles over the packed dirt. Countless stalls lined the exterior walls. At nearly every gate, a horse looked out at them.

  “That man won’t hit the horse, will he?”

  “Over my dead body,” Harrigan replied with a laugh. “That’s called a lunge whip. We don’t use them on the horse, only behind it. The cracking sound encourages the horse to move.”

  “Just calling its name doesn’t work?”

  “Not effectively enough to work the horse properly.”

  “I didn’t expect this place to be so big inside.”

  “In snow country, an indoor arena needs to be big. This is where I work with my horses all winter.” Keeping his hand at the small of her back, he guided her safely around horse and man to traverse the length of the riding area. When they reached a long hallway at the rear of the building, he said, “The office is back here.”

  Rainie could smell hay, grain, and leather. She sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving that she’d never had allergies like her father. “So I’ll work here in the stable?”

  “It’s the hub of my business.”

  When he opened the office door, Rainie saw that he hadn’t exaggerated about the disorder. The room was large enough to comfortably hold two large desks and several file cabinets, but the piles of paperwork, stacks of books, and general disarray made it seem crowded. Under the clutter, she saw rich cherry wood surfaces that were dulled by layers of dust. That surprised her, because his house had looked spotlessly clean.

  “I warned you.”

  It wasn’t often that Rainie laughed nowadays, but the embarrassment in his voice caught her off guard. With a choked giggle, she said, “You did. You’re a master at understatement, Mr. Harrigan.”

  “Parker,” he corrected. Then he said, “It’s not that bad.” He stepped over to another door and pushed it open. “I call this the coffee room, even though it’s a fully equipped kitchen with a fridge, stove, and microwave. There’s an adjoinin’ restroom as well. Nothin’ fancy.”

  Rainie liked that she would be able to refrigerate her lunch items and then heat them up when she wanted to eat. Having a restroom handy was another plus.

  Turning from the coffee room, he scooped animal husbandry tomes and a jumble of papers from the cushioned seat of a leather chair to her right and then inclined his head at the desk. “This will be your workstation.”

  Rainie stepped around to check out the computer system, which looked fairly new. “How many gigabytes?”

  He dumped the books and papers atop the other desk and rubbed beside his nose. “Damned if I know. I just tell my computer guy what I’ll be usin’ the system for, and he decides what bells and whistles I need.”

  “And you just write a check?”

  “Hell, no, I give him my credit card number. I don’t use checks unless I absolutely have to. I get my check register all screwed up.”

  Rainie shook her head. “You probably shouldn’t give a salesperson free rein. They may overload you with stuff to increase their commissions.”

&nbs
p; “What I don’t know won’t hurt me.”

  “It may do some damage to your bank balance, though.”

  He nodded in agreement. “That’s why I’m hirin’ you, to take care of my finances. I just updated both workstations. I haven’t used this computer yet, but the guy at the shop assured me that it will do everything you need it to, plus some.”

  “Software?”

  He named some programs she knew well, then an accounting program she’d never used. After confessing that to him, she added, “That isn’t really a concern, though. I’ll learn the ins and outs quickly enough. Most accounting programs are similar.”

  He glanced around at the mess, which was considerable. “So, what do you think?”

  She found herself smiling again. “I’d be lying if I said it isn’t a little daunting.” The only window looked out upon the walker and outdoor stalls. In the distance, though, she could see pine-studded hills with the majestic Cascades looming behind them. She’d have a mountain view to enjoy during coffee breaks. “It may take me most of the first week to put everything in order.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess in here. But like I said, I’m just not into it.”

  “If you were, you wouldn’t need me.” She followed his gaze, thinking of all the sorting and filing she’d have to do. “I’ll get it whipped into shape.”

  “When can you start?”

  The question made her laugh again. It felt strange to her, as if the person she’d once been had suddenly reentered her body. “I can start tomorrow if you’d like. My schedule is pretty much open. All I have to keep me at home is Thomas.”

  “Ah.” His dark eyes moved slowly over her face. “It figures that there’d be a man in the picture. You’re too lovely to be unattached.”

  Heat crept up Rainie’s neck to pool in her cheeks. “Thomas is a cat.”

  He arched a jet eyebrow. “A cat,” he repeated.

  “Yes, you know, one of those small, furry creatures that sleep in windowsills?”

 

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