Heading into the barn, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye as he stepped into the shadowy interior. The smell of hay and horses drifted on the slight morning breeze, and dust motes hung in the air.
He strode forward, heard the scrape of a shovel against hard-packed earth, paused in front of one of the empty stalls, stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his new hire shoveling horse manure into a wheelbarrow.
He blinked, felt like rubbing his eyes to make sure he was really seeing what he was seeing. She was a pretty little thing—he’d noticed that yesterday. About five-four, small-boned but curvy, probably in her late twenties. She hadn’t heard him approach, which gave him a moment to watch her.
As she bent over to shovel another load, formfitting stretch jeans with jewels on the pockets outlined a fine little ass he did his best to ignore. When she straightened, her T-shirt stretched over a pair of full breasts that sent a slice of heat straight into his groin. She must have heard his softly muttered curse because she stopped working and turned.
“Good morning,” she said brightly. “I thought I’d get an early start. I hope I’m doing it right. I figured any way that worked was probably okay.”
He hooked a thumb in the pocket of his jeans. “Shoveling is shoveling. Looks like you’re doing just fine.”
She had big green eyes in a heart-shaped face, freckles across the bridge of a small, very nice nose. Shiny copper curls fell softly around her face almost to her shoulders. He felt an unwelcome urge to run his fingers through them, see if they were as silky as they looked.
“Where’s your daughter?” he asked.
“She’s coloring in the yard. I just have to walk to the barn door to see her.”
He hadn’t thought to look. Was it okay to leave a kid outside all day? Hell, he had no idea. He’d pretty much raised himself, so he figured she’d probably be fine as long as the weather was good. And he’d keep an eye on her himself. It was only three days.
“When you finish, come find me. I’ll give you something else to do.”
Since he didn’t want her there and wasn’t thrilled that she was actually doing the work, he put her out of his mind as best he could. That he found her attractive only made him more certain she should leave.
An hour later, he was working a little bay filly on a lunge line in the training ring when he saw her walking toward him, a smile on her face. He didn’t like the little kick he felt, not one bit.
“I’m done with the stalls,” she said. “I dumped the wheelbarrow into the pile out in back. I hope that was okay.” She wiped her hands on the front of her stretch jeans, not exactly work clothes, but she was obviously new to this. Most likely she couldn’t afford to buy the kind of clothes that would be more appropriate.
If she kept working, at least she’d collect some pay before she left.
“Follow me.” He led her back into the barn, over to the tack room. Half a dozen saddles sat on sawhorses and twice that many bridles hung on the walls.
“There’s a stack of rags next to the door, saddle soap and brushes in the cupboard, whatever else you need. None of this stuff’s been cleaned since I bought the ranch, probably not for years.”
“When did you buy it?”
“End of February.”
She walked over and opened the cupboard. He wished he hadn’t noticed the blisters on her hands. Dammit, he’d known she wasn’t cut out for hard labor the minute he’d laid eyes on her. The woman had City Girl stamped all over her.
Still, a deal was a deal. She could stay there three days.
He wondered what her story was. Clearly, she’d run into trouble. He hoped that trouble didn’t follow her here. He’d had enough of it already.
“Is it okay if I take this stuff outside where I can see Ivy?”
“Fine with me. Let me know when you’re done.” He left her there and went back to the two-year-old filly he was training. He’d get a good price for the horse when he was finished, a good price for all of them with any luck.
He thought of Satan. The horse had been on the ranch when he’d bought the place. He was a gorgeous animal, pure black with a white star on his forehead, a sixteen-hand papered quarter horse with great confirmation. He’d be the perfect stud for the broodmares he’d bought.
Too bad the stallion was as wild as a peach orchard boar, completely unmanageable and more than a little dangerous. He’d give it a little more time, but if Satan didn’t start making some progress soon, he would have to put the animal down.
No way could he sell him. Sooner or later a horse that crazy wound up badly hurting or killing someone.
He wondered what had turned the stallion into such a demon, or if the animal had been born that way. Whatever the case, he didn’t have time to worry about it now. Josh untied the rope, tugged the filly into the middle of the arena, and went back to work.
Chapter Four
Tory had never been more exhausted in her life. As she stood at the kitchen sink, every bone in her body ached. She had blisters on her hands, and the back of her neck was sunburned from raking up straw outside the barn.
