Trust in the Lawe (Colorado Trust 3)

It didn’t budge. “Stupid idiot,” she mumbled under her breath. Now she’d have to take some off so she could lift the darn thing. Or…she could ask Colton for help.

Not a chance. She reached for the pitchfork.

“Look out.”

Kendra flinched at Colton’s exasperated voice behind her. He shouldered her aside, lifted the weight with ease, and strode away. She clenched her teeth in frustration and stepped back into the stall to scrape the remaining crap into a small mound. When he placed the empty wheelbarrow in front of the stall, she kept her gaze downcast. She had no desire to see his smug satisfaction.

“Maybe don’t fill it so full next time.” His dry suggestion grated on her nerves.

She raised her chin to glare at him. “Ya think?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I do.”

She pictured his face in the wheelbarrow with each toss of manure, but it didn’t make her feel any better. As he led the last horse out, she asked, “I have to do all three barns?” She wished she could’ve controlled the note of misery in her voice, but the question was already out.

“No, just this one and the middle one, today. A bus from the teen center comes every other day. I’ll need something for them to do later.”

He had the nerve to whistle as he sauntered away. Kendra satisfied her violent impulse by throwing herself into the work. When Britt brought her lunch, she ate quickly and went right back at it, determined to finish.

By three-thirty, she spread fragrant pine wood shavings in the final stall. As she walked down the aisle, she looked at the clean stalls that awaited the horses that evening. They even smelled nice, which was amazing all by itself. She paused, surprised by a sense of pride at what she’d accomplished. It was hard to believe she’d done it all.

Lifting her hands palms up, Kendra surveyed the blisters of proof. Just closing her fists a little hurt enough for her to inhale sharply. She closed her eyes and let her breath out with the grim reminder there’d be more to do tomorrow.

****

Colton sat at his desk, tapping his pencil rapid-fire against the surface instead of filling out the schedule in front of him. Nothing was going as he’d planned today. Starting with the groceries he’d dropped off as an excuse to wake her up and make sure she got her butt to work on time to her dogged determination to complete each job he assigned.

When Joel called him last night to explain she’d be under his supervision, he’d groaned silently. After his friend added that he suspected she was stretching the truth about her equin

e experience, Colton voiced his annoyance out loud.

It was busy this time of year, and until they hired some help, he’d taken on the extra work. Not that he minded the work itself, but he sure as hell didn’t need some woman who knew absolutely nothing about horses slowing him down and getting in his way. He’d about lost it when she strutted in with her fancy pants and those ridiculous boots this morning. If they could be called boots. No one with a lick of horse sense wore three-inch heels to work in a barn. The little thief hadn’t stretched the truth, she’d outright lied—just like she had about everything else.

He should’ve told Joel on the phone last night. Had actually opened his mouth to do just that, only to have Joel tell him what a great time they’d all had at dinner. Joel’s enthusiasm told Colton he wanted these sudden additions to his family. And he didn’t want to be the jerk to ruin it.

Then there was Kendra’s please during their confrontation in the guest house. The desperation in her plea sucked him in. In the end, he’d strengthened his vow to watch her every move and kept his mouth shut.

Faced with more dishonesty, he was second-guessing—no, make that triple-guessing his decision. Adding to his frustration was the damn inexplicable magnetism that grew each time he saw her. This morning, one glimpse through the guest house back door at her sitting there in her midriff-baring pajamas gave him a sucker punch right to the gut.

She wasn’t even his type. Yeah, he had a type. Tall women, not short ones that barely reached his shoulder. He liked blondes, not dark-haired little waifs with brown eyes that laughed at him. A woman with noticeable curves, a little meat on her bones, not someone who most likely didn’t even top one hundred pounds from the look of the thief’s slim build.

She’d had one bare foot cocked against the leg of the stool and it disgusted him that he found her ankle sexy. And instead of the greasy ponytail from yesterday, a mass of curls tumbled down the middle of her back. Unfortunately, exactly the way he did like a woman’s hair.

Thoroughly pissed off, he’d dropped the grocery bag and knocked twice, hard, then let his long strides eat up the distance to the barn. And it’d been downhill from there.

He shoved to his feet and exited the office. Sally, an old mare Britt had rescued last week, regarded him over the door of her stall. The little black mare had been starved of nutrition and attention. He walked over and leaned against the door to give her some encouragement and a couple sugar cubes from his pocket.

As the horse lipped at his palm for more treats, he spotted Kendra walking from the middle barn toward the guest house. Another look at her three inch heeled boots reiterated her growing list of lies. People with designer boots like that didn’t care about anyone but themselves—and people he cared about were the ones who’d end up hurt.

He realized right then he needed to raise the stakes in his current plan of action. Sally’s nose bumped against his chest and reminded him of Kendra’s reaction to Nobel that morning. Nobel was big. His brow rose. But he knew someone bigger.

Colton walked to the barn entrance and leaned a shoulder against the side. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Kendra jerked to a stop and pivoted to face him. “It’s almost four.”

Her chin lifted just enough to hint at defiance, and he rose to the challenge. “So?”

“I’ve put in my eight hours for the day. I’m done.”