“Everything okay in here?”he asked, looking in for the third time.
“Yes, however I’d like to ask permission to use your laptop.”She pointed at the computer on his desk.“I left my tablet at home and need to do a little online banking, and with your permission, check my email.I haven’t looked at it in days.”
“The laptop’s yours,” he said.“But don’t open any email from anyone you don’t recognize.If you get something else looking odd, leave it alone.Right now, Rio and I are gonna run some of the guys through the shoot house and assess their skills on the gun.”
“That sounds interesting,” she said, still fascinated at the prospect of men moving through the darkness and learning to react to threats appropriately.Maybe her banking and email could be done later.“Can I watch?”
“Watch?”
“If you won’t let me go inside, then I imagine you have cameras in there, right?So you can monitor a team’s movements via some sort of video screen or computer?”
Ben rubbed his chin.“Well, no.I usually rely on the instructor’s reports and thoroughly interview each team member after the evolution’s over.But,” he said, giving her an assessing glance, “that’s a great idea.With cameras up on the rafters, we could get a bird’s eye view, see what’s going on in real time.”
She gave him a sassy grin.“Maybe you should put me on the payroll.”
He blinked.“How are we going to keep the cameras from getting shot up?”
“Bullet-proof housing,” she threw back, proud of herself for the off-the-cuff answer.She didn’t know if such a thing even existed.Still, it sounded good.
“Hmm,” he said, considering her idea.“I’ll run it by Rio.”With that, he was gone.
Sarah settled on the chair behind Ben’s desk and opened the laptop.Typing her password into her email account, she steeled herself for more of the strange, threatening letters she’d received from The Weirdo.
Holding her breath until the browser loaded, she let her gaze skim down the list of notes and found them all from friends, one from Milly, and a few subscribed advertisements.
The Weirdo had gone silent.
Phew.
Ben would be pleased to hear that.
Milly wrote:Hope you’re doing well down in Texas with that handsome hunk, Ben.All’s quiet up here in Mountain Wood except for folks getting ready for the Rhubarb Festival.You’ll be home for the celebration, won’t you?There’ve been no further attacks or any other evidence of the stalker, so maybe he’s given up.People ask about you now and then.Yesterday I told a nosy journalist looking for you that you’d become a tattoo artist in the south of France.Not sure he believed me, but then I don’t give a rat’s ears.
Milly
“Rat’s ass,” Sarah corrected on a whisper, smiling.She missed Milly—her ready smile and kind manner.Milly always had time to listen to Sarah’s concerns, no matter how great or small.
She missed the rhythms of the ranch, missed her animals and Big Jim.She was enjoying her time with Ben, but this wasn’t home.While she was in Texas, her feed barn business was on hold, and she chafed at the delay.Quickly, she sent Milly back a cheery return email.
Logging into her bank savings account, she looked at the figure and her mood sank.After she paid for Daisy’s, Betsy and Virgil’s daughter, University of Montana tuition, her bank balance was going to come up short for her feed barn.She hadn’t realized the balance was that low.
Even with Donovan Sinclair’s low lease offer, she didn’t have enough.
Putting her fists to her cheeks, she groaned.Why hadn’t she kept better track of the money?With several townspeople asking for help, and such a soft touch she’d been unable to deny them, she hadn’t paid attention to the bottom line.Of course, the funds were draining away and now fell short of realizing her own dream.
How stupid she’d been.
Her mind raced, sorting through possibilities.Maybe she could get a job in town, work for a year, carefully replenish her funds until she built her savings back up.Perhaps she could find a position in the clothing store.Or she could waitress at Milly’s diner.
On the heels of that thought, the memory of the paparazzi’s intrusive visit to her ranch and their subsequent tabloid story burst into her mind.If those kinds of people discovered she’d taken a job in town, they’d hound her—and whatever business hired her—to death.
For her feed barn, she certainly didn’t plan to be in the public’s eye on the retail floor.Instead, she’d be running the concern from behind the scenes.Anyway, now that would have to wait.The only work she could possibly do would have to be private.Like working as an amateur accountant, perhaps keeping the books for a local business.
Again, she looked at her depleted account.
With her poor skills in the money department, accounting didn’t seem like a good idea.
No way would she rescind Daisy’s tuition money.She’d promised to pay and she would.The girl deserved her chance for higher education.
