“You don’t talk much, do you?” he asked, blue eyes as wide as his smile.
I shook my head a single time. “Not unless I have something of import to say.” I’d heard Daddy say that in response to the same question when I was about ten years old and never forgot it.
“Well, I talk enough for the two of us, so I think we’ll get along just fine. You could laugh at a joke or two now and then.” The power went up on his smile, but I didn’t change my serene expression. I didn’t smile or laugh just because someone wanted me to.
It was important to set up boundaries between Pete and me. But, I had to admit, the way he went through the things he wanted, even if he was as giggly as Kasey, was attractive in its way. He didn’t worry about not matching the idea of the average cowboy: reserved, serious, with a rough, well-worn demeanor. He acted just the way he wanted and was letting me know exactly what he expected from me. I could respect that, even if it didn’t match with the way I thought a ranch should be run. By the look of the property, what he was doing was clearly working for him.
We went to the tack and feed rooms again so he could point out everything I’d need to complete my daily tasks.
“I like the horses groomed at the end of the day, so they’re clean when we put them in their stalls.” He showed me the collection of curry brushes, dandy brushes, main combs, and body brushes, all neatly organized on a pegboard hung up on the rear wall of the tack room.
“The last thing you’ll do before leaving at the end of each day is make sure each horse has fresh water in their stalls.”
I nodded once. I’d loosened up after our long tour of the barn. Pete wasn’t just a good-looking jokester playing rancher. He actually knew what he was doing. I could be happy here, caring for these horses. I’d have to figure out a way around the drawn-out morning conversation, or at the very least keep it under ten minutes of small talking and jokes that fell so flat I almost felt sorry for him. Even if I had to suffer through the full hour, at least he wasn’t bad to look at.
He took me out of the stable the way we’d come in, stoppin
g at each stall so he could introduce me to the horses one by one. He had mostly quarter horses, but there was a spotted Appaloosa, and a pinto, too. I spent a little extra time rubbing the pinto’s nose. I’d grown up with my own pinto and had a special spot in my heart for them.
“They like you,” Pete said, glancing over at me as we walked out of the barn and into the sun. “That says a lot.”
I didn’t respond, just followed him out to the corral, where he leaned on the fence, his arms hanging into the empty space. I was itching to get started with the horses. They were hungry and ready to run around. But I leaned onto the fence, too, and stared out at the pasture land in the distance. The fields were beyond there. I planned to saddle up a horse later this afternoon once my other duties were done and take a good long tour of the property.
“How do you feel about the job?” he asked. I could see him looking over at me from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t turn to meet his sparkling baby blues.
“I like it just fine,” I said. “I can’t wait to get to work.”
He smiled when I turned to stare up at him. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Should I get started with the horses?” I asked. I needed to get them used to me. And fed. And watered. And out in the sunlight where they could stretch their long, lovely legs. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t gotten started already. I’d been there for nearly three hours. Those horses had to be getting as anxious as I was.
“Just one more thing,” he said, stopping me from walking off just yet. “There’s another woman who’ll be on the farm most days. Her name’s Lacey. You’ll get to meet her later in the week. She’s got other business to attend to for the next couple days.” He watched me, his light eyes as blue and open as the sky above our heads.
I nodded once. Lacey must’ve been the woman in the red pickup. The way his face softened up when he mentioned her name told me all I needed to know about their relationship. It was a relief, really, because once she got back, Pete would start pointing all his conversation and jokes her way, leaving me free to start my work as soon as I got in. And, unlike Kasey, I considered men with girlfriends completely off limits.
“I’ll let you get to it then,” he said and turned to strike off in the direction of the house. I watched him go, unable to keep my eyes from drifting down to the fine shape of his ass in those jeans. I should’ve looked away, but I didn’t. There was nothing wrong with appreciating the way those jeans hugged his muscly legs and butt, was there? Not like I was ever going to do anything about it.
Chapter Nine
Pete
Wednesday
I was out on the porch right before sunrise when Emma pulled up in her little blue sedan. She lifted a hand in greeting, but didn’t walk over to say hi, choosing instead to head straight to the barn. I watched her slide open the alleyway doors, appreciating her slim body and the curve of her hips in those dark jeans. She disappeared inside the barn, cutting short my view of her.
She wasn’t a talker. Or a smiler. Or a laugher. I hadn’t quite figured out exactly what she was besides a hard worker. The door on that safe was still firmly locked. But there was something valuable in there. I could see it sometimes when I looked deep into those emerald eyes.
Lacey pulled up after the sky had lightened up a bit more, but well before the sun started peeking over the horizon. She walked up to the house and sank down in the seat next to mine.
“How was Austin?” I asked her. We were long past greeting each other the usual way after all the years we’d known each other. Half the time we just picked up a conversation right where we’d left it the day before.
“The same,” she said. She’d been out that way visiting family she didn’t care much for. “How’s the new girl?”
“Emma?” I shrugged. “She’s good. She knows her shit.”
“You don’t sound convinced.” Lacey swung her head around to stare at me, her eyebrows rising up to hide under her cowboy hat. Her hair was cinched at her neck and free over her back. She was wearing a tank top, her freckly shoulders bare.
“I just can’t figure her out. She’s too quiet. She doesn’t laugh at any of my jokes.”