Chapter Three

      He couldn’t let her leave with her last words hanging in the air. She knew his secret, and allowing her to have the last word could give her a false sense that she had the upper hand. She didn’t. Despite her promise not to tell, he was still the boss. It would be a betrayal of Gene’s trust in him if he allowed Ashley to take control when she was nowhere near ready. Not only that, he didn’t intend to lose this job. It was perfect for him: a quiet farm where he could keep his daughter out of everybody’s line of vision.

      He laid the now-sleeping baby in the crib, then stepped into the hall, closing Ruthie’s door behind him. “Don’t think you’ve got me running scared.”

      Ashley stopped dead in her tracks in the hallway, pivoted and stared at him. “I’m doing you a favor and you snap at me?”

      “You’re only paying back the favor I did for you this morning.”

      “I would have preferred that you explained that situation to Toby this morning. I wanted the air cleared,” she said, but her voice shivered oddly and Rick frowned. Surely she wasn’t afraid of him. “I wanted the truth out. Unlike you, I don’t keep secrets.”

      She turned to run down the steps, but again Rick couldn’t let her go. It was one thing for her to fear him as her boss. Quite another for her to be “afraid” of him.

      He stopped her by grabbing her wrist, and her gaze leaped to his. Her pretty green eyes widened and she shivered, and it was all Rick could do to keep from laughing out loud. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was attracted to him. That was why she was running. She wanted to get away before he noticed, but it was too late.

      “I get the distinct impression that you might have a secret or two.”

      To her credit she held his gaze. “I don’t.”

      Rick ignored her words and focused on her feathery, breathless voice. He skimmed his index finger over her wrist and was rewarded when her breathing stuttered.

      “I could kiss you right now and you wouldn’t run.”

      “Not until after I’d kicked you.”

      He laughed and leaned forward just a bit. She didn’t move. Didn’t shrink back. If nothing else, the kid had backbone.

      “But you’d like it.”

      “So would you.”

      This time it was his breath that froze in his chest. The hell of it was she was right. Staring into her fiery green eyes, feeling her soft skin against his palm, he couldn’t deny it. He would enjoy kissing her, so for that very reason he stepped back.

      “Go home. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

      She turned and headed for the steps.

      Just to make sure they were clear about their situation, Rick added, “Don’t think your job will be any easier because you know about Ruthie. As far as I’m concerned we’re even.”

      Halfway down the steps she turned again. “You came into my bedroom. I came into your house. That’s even. But not the part about the baby secret. You owe me on that one.”

      “And I’m paying you back by keeping the secret that you’re attracted to me. So once again, we’re even.”

      She shook her head with disgust and started down the steps. But Rick knew two things. First, she hadn’t seen that he’d reacted to her, too, or she would have had a snappy comeback. Second, she had gotten his message. They both knew she was attracted to him and they both knew that was enough to keep her in line at least until she grew accustomed to it.

      Marching up the sidewalk to the hardware store the next morning, Ashley didn’t even let herself think about how she looked—or smelled. She knew what was going on. Rick might not be the finagler he was in his misspent youth, but they were in competition for a job and sending her into town was an easy way to embarrass her and clearly illustrate that if she got this job this would be her life. A sweaty, smelly farmworker. Dressed in the oldest clothes she could find in her drawers. Her hair matted into ringlets from sweat. No makeup.

      But contrary to what Rick expected, she refused to be embarrassed. Not just because she wouldn’t let him win, but because she accepted that this was her life now. She wanted to be the farm manager. She wanted to care for the horses, dicker for new mares, negotiate the sale of foals, hire hands, settle small battles, maintain the property. She wanted to be connected to the land and the people of her small town as one of them. No longer an outsider, or her father’s daughter, but one of them.

      She pushed open the hardware store door and the bell rang, alerting Bert Minor to her arrival. “Hey, Bert,” she called striding down the aisle. “I’m here to pick up the part Rick ordered this morning.”

      The tall, round, hardware store owner scrambled out of the back room, drying his hands in a brown paper towel. “Hey, Ashley. How’s it going?”

      “It’s going great, but apparently Rick or somebody needs some part and I was elected to pick it up.”

      He looked pointedly at her oversize gray T-shirt and threadbare jeans, apparently not realizing that in some parts of the world she’d be in style.

      “They must all be super busy.”

      “We are super busy,” she said, emphasizing the “we” so Bert would start thinking of her as one of the workers, not just a resident of the farm. “That’s why I didn’t have time to change clothes. Besides, you might as well get used to me looking like this. Right now I’m learning as much as I can about running the place, and when my father retires I hope to be the one who takes over.”

      He smiled approvingly. People in Calhoun Corners weren’t fond of outsiders and they liked it when a farm passed from one generation to the next. “Yeah. Your dad told me he was retiring.”

      Though Ashley had suspected her father would probably officially retire when he returned in February, hearing that he’d already announced it in town froze her breath in her lungs. Still, she schooled her features, not so much to prevent Bert from seeing that it hurt her to hear it from him but so that he wouldn’t guess that her dad seemed to be telling everybody but her.

      “He called the day before he left to go sailing and put Rick’s names on all your accounts,” Bert said, examining the screen of his computerized checkout system, subtly alerting her to the fact that everybody knew Rick was in the running for the manager job, and to him it looked as if Rick was in the lead.

      She only smiled.

      “So, you don’t have to sign for this or anything.” He handed her a brown bag that held something heavy. “Just don’t drop it.”

      “Right.”

      “And good luck with learning the ropes. I’m pulling for