Two quick leaps had him up on the big front porch. He rapped on the screen door’s wooden frame and waited. Nice house, if old. Someone had kept it up. The porch rails had a fresh coat of white paint and the chairs were clean and ready for occupants.
When a second knock proved ineffective, he headed back down the steps and turned toward the barn. A Denali sat way off in the distance, beyond the red barn. Ms.Simpson, whom he’d met the summer before and recently exchanged several emails with, was likely tending to her horses.
He followed the well-worn path, taking note of the hilly pasture behind the barn that ended at a steep-sloped mountain. A few horses grazed nearby: a chestnut, a palomino, and a bay, all sporting healthy, shiny coats. Ears forward, eyes soft, they turned his way as he neared.
Gunner slipped inside the open barn door and took a second for his eyes to adjust. Then he opened his mouth to call out, but the sight at the other end of the barn snatched the words from his tongue.
A petite woman stood at the edge of a window, peering through a pair of binoculars. “Come on . . . turn around.”
This was not the woman he’d met last summer. This one was much younger, for starters. Beyond the window a man inspected a raised piece of land that must be the new stable in the works. Not her husband, he assumed, as she’d surely have no reason to spy on him.
He cleared his throat.
The woman squeaked, bumped her head on the window frame, and whirled. The binoculars clunked to the ground. Wide green eyes fastened on him.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
She pressed a palm to her chest as a pretty blush crawled into her cheeks. “I was just... checking on the, uh...” She kicked the binoculars aside, mashing her lips together. “There was an, um—you know. Anyway, can I help you? Are you here about boarding a horse?”
He barely kept his lips from twitching. She was pretty cute, all flustered like that. Nobody blushed like a redhead. “Gunner Dawson. I have an appointment with Ms.Simpson tomorrow, but I got into town early. Thought I’d stop by and check out the place. Is Ms.Simpson in?” And then, because he couldn’t help himself, he glanced down at the binoculars. “Or is this a bad time?”
The pink in her cheeks deepened as she rubbed her neck. “Um, no, now is fine. I should’ve mentioned in my email that the woman you met last summer, my mom, passed away last August. So your appointment is actually with me.”
All traces of humor drained away. “Sorry to hear that. She seemed like a nice lady.”
“She was.” The woman scooped up the binoculars andapproached, extending a hand. “You can call me Charlotte. And I can give you the tour, such as it is.”
He shook her hand, noting the strength of her grip—and a barely perceptible cleft in her chin. “That’d be great if it’s not a bother.”
“Not at all.” Auburn waves fell just past her shoulders. Those green irises featured a charcoal outer ring, and her perfectly proportioned nose sported a smattering of freckles. She was dressed in work-appropriate attire: boots, jeans, and a sleeveless black top with little ruffles at the shoulders. His eyes caught on the spray of light freckles on her sun-kissed shoulders as she led him through the barn.
Her drawl was as sweet as southern iced tea on a hot summer day. He’d never had a boss younger than him, but as he listened to her explain her operation, it was clear he’d be in good hands. She asked relevant questions and found they agreed on horse-training philosophy. In the past he’d used traditional methods when requested by his employers, but he favored natural horsemanship, which relied on psychology, communication, and understanding.
As they talked she glanced over her shoulder a couple of times toward the man in the distance. Employee? Lover? Stalking victim?
He nodded toward the patch of ground. “Your new stable?”
“It’ll be finished in early July.”
“A good deal larger than what you’ve currently got, by the looks of it.”
“Almost twice the size. Concrete floors, twelve-by-twelve stalls. That’s the owner of the construction company out there.”
Another flush. Interesting.
A while later they ended the tour at the paddock ring where Gunner hitched a boot heel on the bottom fence rail as they continued their conversation. The ranch’s boarding business had been part-time work for twenty-two years, and she was planning to expand into horse training and trail rides, making it a full working ranch.
“We need to turn this place into a moneymaker if we’re going to keep it—and we definitely are. The website’s almost up and running. A lot of people around here own horses, and we’ve already got a list of clients whose horses need training. Also some of our boarders have minor issues to work out. There’s good money in training, as I’m sure you know. And no one else in the valley offers trail rides, so I think that’ll be a hit. We get a lot of tourists here to hike and river raft and otherwise enjoy the great outdoors. Ranches in other tourist towns make a good living off trail rides.”
“Sounds like a feasible plan.”
Her hair glistened like burnished copper under the sun as she turned to him. “So, just to clarify, you basically travel the country training horses?”
“That’s the gist of it.”
“Your résumé is impressive and you come highly recommended. But I’m sure you’re aware this place runs at a slower pace than what you’re used to. And comes with a lot less money.”
“That’s true.” But the ranch was everything he’d hoped for. Some operations didn’t treat their horses humanely. The animals were just a means to an end. But Charlotte’s concern for their health and happiness was obvious in the animals themselves. The horses were relaxed and bright-eyed, their tails swingingloosely. They groomed each other in the field and nickered when Charlotte came around. All good signs.
