Red Thunder Reckoning. Sylvie Kurtz
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Dalton, then?” She suddenly feared finding the garbage-filled bags would become a black mark on her scorecard. See, Judge Dalton, she can’t take care of these horses. They could have gotten cut on the wire or tangled with the rope. And if they’d eaten any of that horsetail, they could have hurt themselves staggering like drunks. No, sir, Mr. Judge, this woman can’t handle such expensive animals, especially in their delicate state.
“Like I said, I found out about the job from Ms. Conover.”
She set her plate on the table and forgot why she went to the fridge. “I have some Parmesan cheese, I think.”
“I’m fine.”
She returned to her chair and shook cheese she didn’t want onto her spaghetti.
The refrigerator hummed. The air conditioner fanned cool air. The ice in her glass shifted and clunked.
He ate with reverence as if he was giving thanks for every bite. Blue tracked his master’s fork, hoping for a little something to fall his way, although she’d seen Kevin feed him a bowl of kibble at the truck earlier.
The scent of garlic and oregano added a sense of warmth and comfort to the room. And the night shrank the world to the pool of yellow light brimming from the fixture overhead. Too cozy.
Though she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, she couldn’t seem to work up an appetite. She twirled her fork into the pasta.
“You seem to get around,” she said, breaking a meatball in half. “Oklahoma, Montana, Colorado.”
“You checked my references.”
The piercing intensity of his dark eyes made her want to push her chair back. She forced herself to eat a bite of meatball. “Of course.”
He nodded.
Concentrating on her plate, she tried to eat more. She didn’t want to feel anything toward him. Not sympathy. Not curiosity. Not even hatred. Any of those would require emotional investment. What she wanted was disinterest, detachment, indifference. There was no point creating ties only to break them. Especially with someone who seemed to burrow under her skin as easily as chiggers.
But try as she might, she couldn’t keep the questions from bubbling until they spilled. “Who taught you…?”
He looked up from his plate, met her gaze and didn’t flinch. His eyes were impossibly dark. Like a starless night, she thought. The vastness of the depth brought out a sudden sense of agoraphobia, of panic, whose grip was almost impossible to bear.
“Taught me what?”
“What you did with Luci and Apollo. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He took a long swallow of water, then set the glass down. When he looked at her once more, warmth swam in his eyes, bringing the sting of tears to her own eyes and a longing she didn’t understand to her heart.
“My grandmother believed that everything is connected. Every human, every animal, every rock and tree. The horse isn’t lower than the dog. The human isn’t king above all. She believed that we’re all equal, but different. We all have a purpose. She taught me to treat the horse with respect.”
Ellen sipped her tea. “It took me a long time to gain Luci’s trust. How could you reach through her fears so fast?”
“If you want to communicate with a horse, you listen to him talk, then respond to him in his language.”
“You didn’t say anything.” Not that she could have heard him from inside the kitchen.
“The horse’s instinct is honed to survive. He’s programmed to run away, to protect himself from anything that scares him. To earn his trust, you need patience, a soft hand. You need to ask yourself how he feels in any given situation. Nothing magic about it.”
She rose. Snatching her plate off the table, she headed toward the sink. It suddenly occurred to her that Kevin was using that very tactic on her. Patience. He’d stayed far longer than she’d wanted him to, hadn’t he? A soft hand. He’d chosen to show her that skill through her horses. What did he see when he put himself in her shoes? Her isolation? Her weakness? “Why are you here?”
“I need a job.”
“You could have a stable of your own. With the way you have with horses, you could put on clinics and make a ton of money. Why work hand to mouth?”
“I don’t work for Bancroft. I don’t work for Judge Dalton. I don’t work for anyone but myself.”
Independence. She could understand that. It was what she wanted for herself. Someone like him probably had to learn to depend on only himself to survive. She scraped the uneaten food into a container. Still…he had a talent that could easily overcome his looks. Why waste it on a rescue ranch that would never turn a profit?
“You want to work for me.”
“Only for a while.”
Then he’d move on. She didn’t know why that should bother her so much. The need for change, Kyle had had it, too. Why did this man keep resurrecting Kyle when she was trying so hard to forget him? Of course with Chance a part of her life again, Kyle was never really far away from her thoughts.
“I like what you’re trying to do here.”
She looked at Kevin over her shoulder. The tenderness in his eyes caught her off guard. He quickly turned away, finishing the last bite on his plate. For a second, she wondered if her imagination had played a trick on her.
“And I don’t like the fact someone’s trying to get in your way.”
She laughed softly as she stowed the food containers in the fridge. Her life was turning into a B-grade western right in front of her eyes. The cowboy had come riding into town. Okay, so he’d ridden a white truck instead of a white steed and worn a baseball cap instead of a Stetson. But if he was planning to play the strong hero to her weak damsel before riding into the sunset, he’d be sorely disappointed.
“If you’re going to stick around,” she said, “let’s get one thing straight.”
He gave her a quizzical look.
“Around here, I give the orders.”
“YES, MA’AM.” Kevin fought the urge to grin as he got up to leave.
At the kitchen door, they stood eye to eye. He’d liked that about Ellen. They’d been partners from their first date. It had taken a horse and a mighty fine display of horsemanship for him to notice her, but once he had, she’d owned his heart. And he’d owned hers—until one stupid outburst of temper, of insecurity, destroyed the best thing in his life.
“You can take a shower in the house, but you’ll have to bunk down in the barn.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She wasn’t going to let him get away with anything. Nothing had changed in that respect.
“And Mr. Ransom—”
“Kevin.”
“The same as for the horses goes for me.”
“You’ve been abused?” Would she admit it?
A spark of shock flashed through her eyes before she hid the pain with ice. “I won’t stand for strong-arm tactics. If you can’t follow orders, you might as well leave now.”
“You need a hand. I’m here to help.”
“I’m not as helpless as you might think.”
“I never thought for a minute you were helpless.”
She might look as if a good wind would blow her over, but he’d never made the mistake of thinking of her as weak. She had a spine of steel and titanium nerves. How she could still have a heart of gold after all she’d gone through was a mystery.
“I have