Page 58

He followed me.

“New client,” I said over my shoulder. “I’m going to go pick up the horse out near Wallowa Lake.” I reached for the driver’s door, not waiting for him to protest or delay me further.

He slid into the passenger’s seat and closed the door firmly behind him. “Can I join you?”

“You really don’t need to,” I said, putting the key in the ignition.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” he said, his voice gravelly and unyielding.

So be it.

As I turned onto the highway and drove south, I waited for him to mention the men who’d visited, the dangers on the horizon. The lack of any legal recourse we had.

He was quiet, looking out the window at the scenery beyond. He was good at this, waiting in the silence until I spoke first.

We had a lot to discuss. Phantom’s progress, the shows I hoped to take him to over the next few months. Whether or not Warren felt comfortable with extending our training agreement. How much longer he planned to stay here in Oregon. Didn’t he have a life waiting for him back in Philly?

I didn’t really want to broach that question with him.

The miles rolled past and the warm breeze wafted through the open windows. The quiet was comfortable between us. A lot of things were easy with Warren. He didn’t make me feel on edge like Keith. I looked forward to him being around. Just having him on the farm brought me a sense of calm, and I wasn’t quite sure why.

“You were right about how special this land is,” Warren said after a good fifteen miles had passed. “Back in Germany, you spoke so highly of Baker.”

I shifted my gaze from the road to the trees, fields of wildflowers, and looming mountains in the distance. Warren had barely seen the surface of the splendor. I glanced at my watch—three o’clock. We had a few minutes for a quick stop on the way to the Carsons’.

“What was your life like in Pennsylvania?” I asked.

“Nothing like this.” He shook his head as if in marvel. “Tall buildings, business suits, high-end parties.”

“Sounds exciting.” Though my tone didn’t match my words.

He chuckled. “Some people seem to like it.”

“Your family?”

“My parents and grandparents are part of the highbrow and high society of old.” He waved a hand. “Though I did everything I could to reject those expectations.”

“Siblings?”

“I have an older brother, William. He runs the family business now.” His words were cold, detached. “I haven’t even seen them since I got home. We’ve never been very close.”

“Why not?”

“We never seemed to understand each other. He was the perfect rule follower,” he said. “And I was skipping school more times than not.”

“I can picture that.” I’d always yearned for a sibling, though I was glad I didn’t have one, given my family history.

I turned the truck and trailer down a sweeping road and pulled into a road hidden along a thick clutch of trees. He seemed surprised, checking behind us as if we’d been followed.

“Don’t worry. We have the time, and I just wanted to show you the lake. It’s a true gem of the area.” I killed the engine and stepped out.

He followed and still checked our surroundings as if he expected Victor’s associates to jump out.

I led us down a faint walking trail that Gramps and I had used to bank fish. The dancing of the leaves, the cool wind that skipped off the water beyond, the faint whiff of spring flowers . . . Memories of my trips with Gramps came flooding back, and the grief of his loss rose faster than the ground when I fell out of the saddle.

My steps faltered and my chest tightened. I closed my eyes and struggled to breathe for a moment, until I pushed it all back down. Locking it deep inside where all the other sorrow, regret, pain, and despair swirled beneath the facade I’d perfected.

“Eva?”