by Kat Martin
Tory took a step backward, first one and then another. She wasn’t far from the fence, and yet the fear she saw in Josh’s face made it seem a mile away. The stallion didn’t follow. His eyes were fixed on Josh, who ducked between the strands of fencing and slowly walked toward her.
Josh moved in front of her, putting himself between her and the stallion, when the animal charged. “Run!” he commanded and she did, racing the last few feet to the fence, ducking between the strands of wire to safety on the opposite side.
Josh was right behind her, the stallion on his heels, its head down, teeth bared, the whites of its eyes showing. Josh turned, jerked off his hat, and waved it in the stallion’s face. The animal whirled away as Josh ducked to safety on the other side of the fence right beside her.
The stallion whirled back and raced toward them, slamming into the fence, neighing wildly, baring his teeth, screaming as if he were in pain.
“You okay?” Josh asked.
Tory’s gaze shot back to the stallion, her heart pounding like a wild thing. “I guess he doesn’t like you.”
Josh slapped his hat against his thigh and jammed it back on his head. “What the hell were you doing in there?”
Her chin went up. “I was looking for you. If you didn’t want me going into the pasture, you should have told me.”
He sighed and glanced away, tugged the brim of his hat a little lower. “You’re right. I should have said something. Cole and Noah know better than to go into Satan’s pasture. I should have warned you, too.”
“Satan? That’s his name?”
“Satan’s Star, and believe me it fits him. He’s a real man-eater. I should have warned you. I could have gotten you seriously injured, even killed. Ranch life isn’t easy—one of the reasons the job you’re doing isn’t for you.”
Her heart sank. “Wait a minute. I’ve been doing good work, haven’t I? I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to.”
“I’m not complaining about the work you’ve done. It’s just not a good idea. I need someone with some muscle, someone who can help with the heavy lifting. Cole and Noah have enough to do. I need another man.” Those blue eyes zeroed in on her face. “And I’d appreciate you not suing me for being honest.”
Tory sighed. “I won’t sue you,” she said glumly. “I never really would have.” Because he was right. She just wasn’t big enough or strong enough to do the kind of manual labor he needed to help him run the ranch, even with two other men.
She would have to go back on the road, find another town, look for another job. The thought made her eyes sting.
Josh pushed his hat back with the tip of his finger and started to say something, but instead of finishing his sentence, he looked over her shoulder back at the beautiful black horse, pawing the ground and snorting, running back and forth along the fence.
“When you were out there with Satan . . . I’ve never seen him that calm. What did you do to him?”
Her gaze followed his to the magnificent stallion. “I don’t know exactly. He seemed to like the sound of my voice. Or maybe he liked the way I smell. I always wear perfume. Mostly Chanel.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re saying my horse has expensive tastes?”
She smiled. “I don’t know. He was really sweet until you walked up. I think you scared him.”
“Are you kidding me? I scared him?”
“Yes. He was just reacting in order to protect himself.”
Josh started to argue, then turned and looked back at the horse. The stallion was still watching their every move. “You game to try something?”
“If it doesn’t require my getting trampled to death, sure.”
Amusement curved his lips. She was beginning to think he actually had a sense of humor.
“I’m going to walk away,” he said. “As soon as I’m back far enough, I want you to walk toward the fence. Don’t get so close he can get to you, just walk toward him. Talk to him the way you were doing before. Let’s see what happens.”
He moved backward until the horse started to ignore him and started watching her instead. Tory began walking slowly toward the fence, talking softly, repeating the same meaningless phrases she’d said before.
“Hey, pretty boy. Star, that’s what I’m going to call you. You have that gorgeous white star right in the middle of your forehead. I bet you’re not nearly as mean as people say you are. I bet you’re really a very nice horse.”
As if in answer, the stallion lowered his head and trotted up to the fence just a few feet away from where she stood. He nickered softly.
Tory moved closer to the fence. Too close, apparently, as she heard Josh’s softly muttered curse. Fortunately, he didn’t come up behind her. Star blew out a deep breath and pushed his head toward her. Tory rubbed his topknot and ears just as she had before.
“Maybe I’ll come see you again, bring you an apple or something. Would you like that, big boy?”
His deep sigh tugged at her heart. He seemed so lonely. She could almost feel it. “Bye, Star.” Turning, she walked away.
“I can’t believe I just saw that,” Josh said when she reached him. “It was stupid, but it was amazing.”
“It wasn’t stupid. I could tell he wasn’t going to hurt me.”
“Oh, so now you’re an expert on horses? Somehow I didn’t get that impression before.”
“Okay, so I’ve never worked on a ranch and I don’t know squat about horses. It was a feeling, you know? Like we were communicating in some way.” She shrugged. “But maybe I’m wrong. Like you said, I don’t have any experience with horses.”
Josh glanced back at the stallion. “Look, why don’t you take the rest of the day off and we’ll talk about everything later?”
“I need to keep working even if it’s my last day. I need the money.”
“Fine, you can work out the day. Can you cook?”
“I’m a pretty fair cook. Why?”
“There’s a chicken thawing in my kitchen. Why don’t you let Mrs. T. go home early, take Ivy over to my place, and cook the chicken for supper.”
“Except for Clara Thompson, I haven’t seen a woman around. I take it you aren’t married.”
“Nope. Never have been. Cook me some supper and at the end of the day, we’ll talk, see if we can figure something out.”
Her eyes flashed to his. “Are you saying you might let me stay?”
“I said we’d talk about it, okay?”
Hope reared its beautiful head. She was cooking him supper. If she fixed him a good enough meal, maybe he would keep her on. She felt safe here in a way she hadn’t in weeks. Months, really.
Tory thought of Damon and hoped she wasn’t deluding herself.
Chapter Six
He must have lost his mind. Josh couldn’t believe he was actually considering letting the woman and her little girl stay.
But he’d always had a weakness for people in trouble, and he knew in his bones this woman was.
Taking out some of his frustration, he slammed the hammer against another rotting board in the cow barn, sending splinters and bits of wood flying. That same weakness had sent him to Cole Wyman’s front door when his friend Noah Beal had told him Cole was out of the marines, back in Texas, and nearly suicidal. That Cole needed something to do to help him get his life straightened out before it was too late. Noah believed a job on the ranch would be the perfect solution.
Both men worked there now and were doing a terrific job. Noah was happy to be outdoors and Cole’s confidence was returning, his attitude getting better every day. They took pride in the work they were doing, something hard to find these days. Josh had money and because he did, he could afford to help other people, though he preferred helping those who were trying to help themselves.
As he slammed the hammer against another piece of rotten wood, he thought of Tory. Every time he caught a whiff of her perfume his groin tightened. Hell, he was as bad as the horse.
He blew out a long, slow br
eath. She needed a job, no doubt about it, but how many nights would he lie in bed thinking about her, lusting after her?
If she stayed, he’d have to find a way to take care of his needs somewhere else. Maybe he’d call Billie Joe Hardie, one of the waitresses over at Jubal’s Roadhouse. She was always up for a good time.
One thing he couldn’t do was sleep with Tory. Hell, he had no idea if she would even be interested, but the fact remained, he couldn’t have a physical relationship with one of his employees. It was bad business all around. Those kinds of situations never ended well, and he had a feeling Tory Ford would agree.
So he’d talk to her, work out some ground rules. If she still wanted a job, he’d find her something to do.
He found himself looking forward to the chicken dinner she was fixing. He wasn’t much of a cook himself; truth was he barely got by. Plus he was exhausted at the end of the day. Finding the energy to cook a meal was sometimes just too much trouble. It would be nice not to have to worry about it.
And there was the horse. The big black stallion would make the perfect stud for his mares if there was a way to tame him. Josh wasn’t willing to put the Ford woman in jeopardy, but the connection she and the horse seemed to share was definitely worth exploring.
That alone was reason enough to keep her on, at least for a while.
Knocking the last board in the stall aside, he walked over to the lumber pile and picked up one of the boards he’d already measured and cut to the right length. When he finished hammering the new board in place, he checked his watch.
The afternoon had slipped toward evening. Noah and Cole had already gone home. Another half hour and he’d be done for the day. Josh retrieved a second board and started pounding in nails.
* * *
Tory finished the salad she had prepared, adding a can of mandarin oranges from the pantry to the lettuce she’d found in the fridge. Walking over to the oak table in the big open kitchen, she straightened the pretty blue-checked place mat in front of one of the high-backed oak chairs, and tugged a matching blue-checked napkin through a blue glass ring. There was a nice set of white plates she planned to use.
She wondered where the dishes and linens had come from. Even the blue-flowered dish towels looked feminine. The living room, on the other hand, was masculine: brown leather sofas and chairs, a black-and-white cowhide rug in front of the fireplace, oak tables and bookshelves, a big flat-screen TV.
A photo book of horses rested on the coffee table, where Ivy sat on the floor coloring. Tory had noticed books on cattle and ranching in the bookshelves.
Maybe Josh had a girlfriend who had helped him pick things out for his new home. He’d told her he wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a woman. A man who looked like Josh could have his pick.
Tory didn’t like the little tug of regret that thought stirred. She sighed. It really didn’t matter if Josh was involved with someone or not. She wasn’t interested in Joshua Cain, and he wasn’t interested in her.
She just needed a way to make a living and a place to stay where she and Ivy would be safe. While they were there, she could formulate a plan, do some research, find a city where she could disappear and Damon Bridger would never find her.
A little voice warned she might be kidding herself. There was a chance Damon would never give up his search, that there was nowhere she could hide where he wouldn’t find her.
But surely even a person as close to crazy as Damon had turned out to be wouldn’t waste his entire life trying to exact revenge.
Her mind went back to the weeks after he’d attacked her in Phoenix. Damon had been arrested, but with the fancy attorney his father hired, he was out of jail in hours. She had stupidly believed beating someone nearly to death would result in at least several months in jail. Instead, he’d been sentenced to rage management, counseling, and community service.
She had never been safe from him again.
She thought of their last encounter and a faint shiver slid down her spine. How long had he stayed tied up? Had someone called the police? If so, was she wanted for a crime of some sort? Surely protecting yourself wasn’t illegal.
She sniffed as an odd smell reached her, frowned when she caught a whiff of smoke. With a shriek, she rushed toward the oven. As she opened the door, thick black smoke poured into the kitchen.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod!”
“The house is on fire, Mama!” Ivy raced in from the living room.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay. It’s just the chicken.” Just the chicken? Ohmygod ! Grabbing a set of pot holders, she pulled the carefully prepared bird out of the oven and set it down on top of the stove. She slammed the oven door but it was too late. The smoke was so thick she could barely see across the room, and the outside of the bird was burnt to a black, ugly crisp.
“Eww, Mama, it looks awful.”
“This can’t be happening,” Tory said.
“Tell me that isn’t my supper.” Boots thumped on the floor as Josh walked into the kitchen.
Tory’s eyes slid closed. She should have known. The man had an uncanny sense of timing. She felt like bursting into tears.
Instead she forced herself to turn and face him. “I don’t know what happened. It’s been in there way less than an hour.”
She looked up at him, read his disappointment, and the tears she’d been fighting welled in her eyes. He was going to let her go. She’d be back on the road looking for work, looking for a safe haven for her and Ivy.
It was just too much. Her last hope had gone up in smoke, just like the chicken. A sob escaped. Then another.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Josh said. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just a chicken.”
She wanted to say it’s the end of my world. Or at least it felt that way. Another sob escaped. She tried to salvage her dignity. “It wasn’t my fault. It was your damnable—darnable oven.”
She brushed a tear from her cheek. “I set it at three twenty-five. It should have been perfect!” Then she covered her face and started crying. And she couldn’t seem to stop.
Dammit, dammit, dammit. She couldn’t do this. She just couldn’t!
A hard body stepped into her space and she felt the heat, felt Josh’s powerful arms go around her, ease her against his chest.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You don’t have to leave. We’ll figure something out.”
The softly spoken words finally penetrated her anguish, his voice as soothing as a summer rain. She relaxed into his strength, for several seconds just held on to him. It was stupid. It was embarrassing. She felt like a fool.
With a shaky breath, she stepped away. “I’m sorry.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t cry. I mean, I’m not a crier. Not usually.”
“Only after you set a chicken on fire?”
She felt the faintest tug of a smile. “Yeah, only after that.” She was still looking at Josh when she glanced over at Ivy. The little girl crouched on the floor against the wall, completely drawn into herself, her eyes huge, her face as white as a sheet.
Tory ran to her, swept her up in her arms. “Oh, honey, it’s okay. Everything’s okay. Everybody’s fine.”
“He . . . he hurt you. He . . . he made you cry.”
“No. Josh didn’t make me cry. It was the chicken. I was crying because I ruined his supper, but he wasn’t mad, sweetheart. He was being nice.”
The little girl looked over at Josh. Two pairs of blue eyes assessed each other.
“I wouldn’t hurt you or your mother,” Josh said softly. “I’d never do that. I promise you, Ivy.”
Ivy hid her face in Tory’s neck. She gave her little girl a fierce hug, then set her back down on her feet. “I’m going to finish making dinner for Josh, and then we’ll go home, okay? In the meantime, you can finish your coloring, all right?”
Ivy nodded. Turning, she took off for the living room, settled back down on the floor. Picking up a crayon, she went back to work as if nothing had
happened.
Kids, God love ’em.
“We need to have that talk,” Josh said, regaining Tory’s attention. “Somewhere private. It’s warm outside. Now would be a good time.”
“What . . . what about supper? I can salvage the chicken. I’ll take off the skin and make some gravy. I’ve got a nice salad to go with it, some potatoes. You’ll like it, I swear.”
“After,” he said, then turned and walked outside.
Tory sighed. Damon had tried to beat her into submission, but Josh could make her jump through hoops with only a single word.
Tory didn’t like the notion.
But she walked out onto the porch.
* * *
He shouldn’t have held her. Now he’d never get the imprint of her soft breasts and feminine curves out of his head. Add to that, it was completely out of line. He was her boss. She was his employee.
Aside from satisfying his physical needs once in a while, he didn’t have time for a woman. He had plans for the ranch, goals, ambitions. And he was still coming to grips with the changes in his life, the transition from being a soldier to a civilian.
On the surface, he had everything under control, but every once in a while, he had a disturbing flashback or a nightmare. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers who’d been in combat.
Eventually it would fade away, but until that time, he needed his space, his privacy. The last thing he wanted was a woman living right there on the ranch.
But damn he felt sorry for her. She’d been sure he was going to fire her, and he could see her desperation. He’d told her she could stay. Unless there were unknown factors, he wouldn’t break his word. But as he had said, they needed to talk.
Tory shoved the screen door open and stepped out into the cool evening.
“I need a beer,” Josh said. “You want one?”
She looked up at him. “Sure. I’d love a beer.”
“I’ll get them.” A woman who liked beer. That was a plus.
He returned a few minutes later, twisted off the top to a Lone Star, and handed it over. Twisted off the cap to the other one and took a long swallow.