Beyond Control (Texas Trilogy #3)

“If it doesn’t require my getting trampled to death, sure.”

Amusement curved his lips. She was beginning to think he actually had a sense of humor.

“I’m going to walk away,” he said. “As soon as I’m back far enough, I want you to walk toward the fence. Don’t get so close he can get to you, just walk toward him. Talk to him the way you were doing before. Let’s see what happens.”

He moved backward until the horse started to ignore him and started watching her instead. Tory began walking slowly toward the fence, talking softly, repeating the same meaningless phrases she’d said before.

“Hey, pretty boy. Star, that’s what I’m going to call you. You have that gorgeous white star right in the middle of your forehead. I bet you’re not nearly as mean as people say you are. I bet you’re really a very nice horse.”

As if in answer, the stallion lowered his head and trotted up to the fence just a few feet away from where she stood. He nickered softly.

Tory moved closer to the fence. Too close, apparently, as she heard Josh’s softly muttered curse. Fortunately, he didn’t come up behind her. Star blew out a deep breath and pushed his head toward her. Tory rubbed his topknot and ears just as she had before.

“Maybe I’ll come see you again, bring you an apple or something. Would you like that, big boy?”

His deep sigh tugged at her heart. He seemed so lonely. She could almost feel it. “Bye, Star.” Turning, she walked away.

“I can’t believe I just saw that,” Josh said when she reached him. “It was stupid, but it was amazing.”

“It wasn’t stupid. I could tell he wasn’t going to hurt me.”

“Oh, so now you’re an expert on horses? Somehow I didn’t get that impression before.”

“Okay, so I’ve never worked on a ranch and I don’t know squat about horses. It was a feeling, you know? Like we were communicating in some way.” She shrugged. “But maybe I’m wrong. Like you said, I don’t have any experience with horses.”

Josh glanced back at the stallion. “Look, why don’t you take the rest of the day off and we’ll talk about everything later?”

“I need to keep working even if it’s my last day. I need the money.”

“Fine, you can work out the day. Can you cook?”

“I’m a pretty fair cook. Why?”

“There’s a chicken thawing in my kitchen. Why don’t you let Mrs. T. go home early, take Ivy over to my place, and cook the chicken for supper.”

“Except for Clara Thompson, I haven’t seen a woman around. I take it you aren’t married.”

“Nope. Never have been. Cook me some supper and at the end of the day, we’ll talk, see if we can figure something out.”

Her eyes flashed to his. “Are you saying you might let me stay?”

“I said we’d talk about it, okay?”

Hope reared its beautiful head. She was cooking him supper. If she fixed him a good enough meal, maybe he would keep her on. She felt safe here in a way she hadn’t in weeks. Months, really.

Tory thought of Damon and hoped she wasn’t deluding herself.





Chapter Six


He must have lost his mind. Josh couldn’t believe he was actually considering letting the woman and her little girl stay.

But he’d always had a weakness for people in trouble, and he knew in his bones this woman was.

Taking out some of his frustration, he slammed the hammer against another rotting board in the cow barn, sending splinters and bits of wood flying. That same weakness had sent him to Cole Wyman’s front door when his friend Noah Beal had told him Cole was out of the marines, back in Texas, and nearly suicidal. That Cole needed something to do to help him get his life straightened out before it was too late. Noah believed a job on the ranch would be the perfect solution.

Both men worked there now and were doing a terrific job. Noah was happy to be outdoors and Cole’s confidence was returning, his attitude getting better every day. They took pride in the work they were doing, something hard to find these days. Josh had money and because he did, he could afford to help other people, though he preferred helping those who were trying to help themselves.

As he slammed the hammer against another piece of rotten wood, he thought of Tory. Every time he caught a whiff of her perfume his groin tightened. Hell, he was as bad as the horse.

He blew out a long, slow breath. She needed a job, no doubt about it, but how many nights would he lie in bed thinking about her, lusting after her?

If she stayed, he’d have to find a way to take care of his needs somewhere else. Maybe he’d call Billie Joe Hardie, one of the waitresses over at Jubal’s Roadhouse. She was always up for a good time.

One thing he couldn’t do was sleep with Tory. Hell, he had no idea if she would even be interested, but the fact remained, he couldn’t have a physical relationship with one of his employees. It was bad business all around. Those kinds of situations never ended well, and he had a feeling Tory Ford would agree.

So he’d talk to her, work out some ground rules. If she still wanted a job, he’d find her something to do.

He found himself looking forward to the chicken dinner she was fixing. He wasn’t much of a cook himself; truth was he barely got by. Plus he was exhausted at the end of the day. Finding the energy to cook a meal was sometimes just too much trouble. It would be nice not to have to worry about it.

And there was the horse. The big black stallion would make the perfect stud for his mares if there was a way to tame him. Josh wasn’t willing to put the Ford woman in jeopardy, but the connection she and the horse seemed to share was definitely worth exploring.

That alone was reason enough to keep her on, at least for a while.

Knocking the last board in the stall aside, he walked over to the lumber pile and picked up one of the boards he’d already measured and cut to the right length. When he finished hammering the new board in place, he checked his watch.

The afternoon had slipped toward evening. Noah and Cole had already gone home. Another half hour and he’d be done for the day. Josh retrieved a second board and started pounding in nails.

*

Tory finished the salad she had prepared, adding a can of mandarin oranges from the pantry to the lettuce she’d found in the fridge. Walking over to the oak table in the big open kitchen, she straightened the pretty blue-checked place mat in front of one of the high-backed oak chairs, and tugged a matching blue-checked napkin through a blue glass ring. There was a nice set of white plates she planned to use.

She wondered where the dishes and linens had come from. Even the blue-flowered dish towels looked feminine. The living room, on the other hand, was masculine: brown leather sofas and chairs, a black-and-white cowhide rug in front of the fireplace, oak tables and bookshelves, a big flat-screen TV.

A photo book of horses rested on the coffee table, where Ivy sat on the floor coloring. Tory had noticed books on cattle and ranching in the bookshelves.

Maybe Josh had a girlfriend who had helped him pick things out for his new home. He’d told her he wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a woman. A man who looked like Josh could have his pick.

Tory didn’t like the little tug of regret that thought stirred. She sighed. It really didn’t matter if Josh was involved with someone or not. She wasn’t interested in Joshua Cain, and he wasn’t interested in her.

She just needed a way to make a living and a place to stay where she and Ivy would be safe. While they were there, she could formulate a plan, do some research, find a city where she could disappear and Damon Bridger would never find her.

A little voice warned she might be kidding herself. There was a chance Damon would never give up his search, that there was nowhere she could hide where he wouldn’t find her.

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