Morning came way too early. Rolling out of bed with a groan, Tory showered and dressed, then got Ivy up and ready for the day. She was determined to keep this job. Iron Springs, the nearest town, wasn’t a place Damon would ever look for her.
She wondered what had happened to him after she’d left him tied up that night. He’d always been resourceful. She was sure he’d found some way to escape before too long.
She had driven for hours that night, finally pulling into a cheap motel. After that, they had moved from one town to another, always searching for someplace safe, never satisfied they had found it.
Now she was back in Texas, figuring Damon wouldn’t think she’d return to a place he had found her before, and this time she was way off the grid. She paid everything with cash, not credit cards. The cell phones she used were disposable. The only person she ever called was her best friend, Lisa Shane, whom she phoned about once a week.
At first she had missed the techno world of texting, email, Facebook, and Twitter, but little by little, she had accepted the loss as a necessity. Going one step further, when she finished talking to Lisa, she tossed the cheap plastic phone so even if Damon somehow got hold of Lisa’s cell, he wouldn’t be able to find her.
It was costly, but Lisa was her last connection to the life she had left behind. They were best friends and Tory was desperately in need of a friend. Her greatest hope was that sooner or later Damon would get tired of looking for her. He’d give up and go back to his life in Phoenix. Sooner or later she and Ivy would be safe.
Which reminded her how much she needed to keep this job.
The morning was still early, but she needed to get going. She glanced up at a knock on the door. Tory walked over and looked through the peephole, saw Josh on the porch. She pulled open the door.
“You got a minute?” he asked.
She glanced over to where Ivy sat at the kitchen table. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” Walking out on the porch, she closed the door. “What is it?”
“I have a neighbor friend, an older lady named Clara Thompson. She loves kids. I was thinking maybe she could stay with Ivy while you were working . . . you know, just for the next couple of days.”
“I don’t know her. I can’t leave Ivy with someone I don’t know.”
“I figured you’d say that.” He stepped back. “Mrs. T., come say hello to Tory.”
A silver-haired woman walked toward her, smiling as she climbed the steps with plenty of vigor for a lady Tory guessed to be in her late sixties.
“I’m Clara Thompson. Josh phoned last night and asked me to stop by this morning. He said you had a sweet little girl. He thought you might need a sitter for a couple of days.”
Clara Thompson had kindly blue eyes and a warm, sincere smile. She looked like the grandmother Ivy had never had. She’d been a baby when Tory’s mom had died in the same car accident that had killed her husband. Unfortunately for Ivy, Jamie’s mother had no interest in kids.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’d love to have you sit with Ivy, but the truth is, until I get paid, I can’t afford—”
“Oh, no, dear, I don’t expect you to pay me. I love children and now that my three are grown and moved away, that big house gets mighty lonely.”
A sitter would be the answer to her prayers, and Mrs. Thompson seemed really nice. With the exception of Damon, Tory had always had good instincts about people, and Josh seemed to trust the lady.
She glanced up at the sky. Yesterday had been perfect weather, but clouds were drifting in, hinting at rain.
Just then Ivy opened the door. “Aren’t you going to work, Mama?”
“Ivy, honey, this is Mrs. Thompson. She’s a neighbor.”
Mrs. Thompson smiled down at the little girl. “Hello, Ivy. It’s nice to meet you. I have two great-granddaughters about your age, but they live in Houston so I don’t get to see them very often.”
“You’re a grandma?”
“That’s right.”
“Mrs. Thompson is going to sit with you, sweetie. I saw some cookie mix in the pantry. Maybe you two could make a batch of chocolate chips. They’re your favorite.” She flicked a glance at the older woman.
Mrs. Thompson smiled at Ivy. “That sounds like fun. You like to bake, Ivy?”
“I do!” Ivy grinned and jumped up and down. “We get to bake cookies!”
Mrs. Thompson turned back to Tory. “I brought some toys and games, things my great-granddaughters like to play with when they visit. We’ll have all sorts of fun things to do.”
Tory was torn. She really needed the woman’s help, but she didn’t want to take advantage. “Are you sure, Mrs. Thompson?”
“Of course I’m sure. I’m just glad Josh called me.”
Tory looked at Josh. It had been so long since anyone had helped her. She blinked back the unexpected sting of tears and hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Thank you.”
Josh gave a faint nod, tugged his hat down on his forehead, turned, and strode off down the steps.
Tory led the woman into the house, showed her around, and got her and Ivy settled. “There are books and crayons on the table and Ivy’s always been good at entertaining herself.”
“We’ll have fun,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Don’t you worry.”
Kissing the top of her daughter’s head, Tory left the house and headed for the barn, her mind turning to the job she’d been hired to do.
The way the stable was laid out, each stall had a short fenced-in run that allowed the horses to move inside and out. Their stalls had to be cleaned every day, but it wasn’t too big a problem since they were outside a lot of the time.
She was halfway there when she spotted Josh, but he was no longer alone. It took a moment to realize the two men he was talking to were both disabled, one a double amputee fitted with metal prostheses, the other a man with only one arm.
Both men were good-looking, not as tall as Josh, but lean and wide-shouldered, with biceps bulging from the sleeves of their T-shirts. She wondered if they might be soldiers wounded in the war, wondered if maybe Josh was former military, too.
She had noticed a scar on his right side that first day when he’d had his shirt off. He certainly looked tough enough to have been a soldier, though his several days’ growth of beard was gone today.
Tory kept walking, hoping to avoid him. The less she talked to him, the less chance he’d find an excuse to fire her.
He strode into the barn a few minutes later, while she was shoveling out her first stall. She could sense his presence even before she saw him, a shift in the air like an electrical pulse. It made her heart speed up a little.
“You don’t need to do that today,” he said as he approached. “I’ll find something else for you to do.”
She set the shovel down and leaned on the handle. “If I don’t do it, who will? You?”
He shrugged those wide shoulders. “It’s no big deal. I was shoveling manure before you got here. I can do it again. Like I said, I’ll find you something else to do.”
No way, Tory thought. Stable hand was the job she had applied for. It was the job he needed done. “I’m fine right here. Three days. That was our deal. I’ll find you when I’m finished. Okay?”
He looked like he wanted to argue. Instead he clenched his jaw and shook his head. “You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”
“I’ll do a good job for you, just like I promised.”
Those cool blue eyes ran over her, making the inside of her stomach lift.
“Fine. Suit yourself.” Turning, he walked out of the barn, and Tory breathed a sigh of relief. If she proved herself, maybe he would let her stay. She already found herself liking the ranch, the wide-open spaces and fresh air, horses and cattle roaming the pastures. Maybe she could pay Mrs. Thompson enough to get her to sit on the workdays.
She walked over and picked up the shovel. Her hands were sore, but the salve Josh had brought over had helped, and gloves made the job a lot easier. Of course, they didn’t keep her back from hurting.
She’d get used to it, she told herself. She was tough and she was determined. She had Damon Bridger to thank for that.
Chapter Five