She refused to answer. She didn’t want charity from Cain or anyone else.
“Fine,” he said. “You’ve got three days. But I’m not cutting you any slack. You do a man’s job for a man’s pay. If you can’t hack it, you’re out of here.”
And from the look on his face, he was clearly hoping she would fail. Hell, maybe she would.
She managed a fake smile. “Okay, it’s a deal.” She stuck out her hand to seal the bargain, for a moment didn’t think he was going to shake. Then he sighed and took hold of her hand, not too hard, just firm enough to let her know he was in charge.
“You start tomorrow morning. Six A.M. sharp. There’s enough food in the trailer to last a few days. I’ll bring you a quart of milk. After that, board’s on you. If you’re still here, you’ll need to make a trip into town for groceries.”
Relief filtered through her, so strong it made her head swim. She had a place to stay where no one would look for her. She had a job, which meant food and money for necessities. If he kept her on, she’d find a sitter to watch Ivy. She’d have time to figure things out, make a new plan.
She took a step back, set an arm around her little girl’s shoulders, and drew her forward. “This is my daughter, Ivy. Ivy, this is Mr. Cain.”
“Hello, Ivy,” he said. He had an unusual voice, deep and resonant, but at the same time soft and oddly compelling.
Ivy shrank back.
“Say hello, honey,” Tory said.
“I don’t want to stay. I want to go.” Clinging to Tory’s waist, she burrowed into her.
“She’s shy,” Tory said.
“The trailer’s unlocked,” Cain said. “It’s clean and ready to go.”
“Thank you.”
He turned and started striding back to the barn. She probably should have been at least a little afraid of him. Oddly, she wasn’t.
Then again, she hadn’t been afraid of Damon, either.
*
At six A.M. the next morning, Josh checked his watch. Time to go to work and no sign of the woman.
Hell, he was an idiot. Now he had a woman and her kid living in his trailer. No way could he expect her to do a man’s work. She could stay a couple of days; then she had to go.
He just hoped to hell she kept her word and left without giving him any more trouble.
Carrying his empty plate of bacon and overcooked eggs to the sink, he turned on the water and rinsed off the plate and his utensils as heavy footfalls sounded on the porch.
Not the woman, the wranglers who’d just started working for him. Noah Beal and Cole Wyman were former marines, disabled vets whose abilities were often underestimated, guys who needed the work and took pride in doing a good job. Josh felt lucky to have them.
He grabbed his battered straw hat, opened the front door, and stepped out on the porch. “Morning. You guys want a cup of coffee before you head out?”
“I’m good,” Cole said.
“Me, too,” said Noah.
Both men were in their late twenties, two or three years younger than Josh’s thirty-one. Cole, who had lost both legs just below the knee to an IED, had dark blond hair and a face women loved. He wore metal lower limb prostheses, and he could do damn near anything any other man could do.
Noah had brown hair and more rugged features. He’d lost an arm in Kabul, but it didn’t slow him down. Determined to live their lives to the fullest, both men managed to get in a workout at the gym most days and had the hard bodies to prove it.
Noah was married to a smart and pretty young woman who suited him perfectly. Cole, whose girl had broken up with him when she discovered he had lost his legs, was resentful and unsure of himself when it came to women, still finding his way with the opposite sex.
They all headed off to the vehicle shed where he kept a pair of four-wheel ATVs, a UTV side-by-side, and his white Ford F-150.
“How much longer till you finish the east pasture, you think?” he asked.
“We’ve got at least four more days,” Cole said.
“You’re actually ahead of schedule,” Josh told them. “When you’re finished, you can start on the pasture to the north. Whole ranch needs new fencing. Ought to keep you busy for a while.”
The men climbed onto the ATVs, one of which towed a trailer loaded with fencing materials, and they took off down the two-track lane into the fields.
Josh glanced around. Still no sign of the woman. He’d thought she would at least show up on time the first day. But then he’d never been a good judge of women.
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.