“My brothers? Why? It’s my job,” she said without looking up. “Not theirs.”
The animal shifted his weight again and Hannah worked, giving no sign she cared why he was there or that he was there at all. He had to remind himself he didn’t want her to. “You ride him?”
“That’s part of boarding; feeding, bathing, exercising. He’s not so bad, are you, boy?” She reached to pat his head, but he jerked away. “A little moody.”
And, as if to prove it, his thick, black tail lifted, and he let loose a foul blow of air so strong, Stephen squinted against it. That was followed by heavy chunks of manure, each piece landing on top of the other with a plop.
“Sorry about that. Roma’s not much on manners.”
Stephen didn’t miss her smirk or the affectionate pat she gave his neck. Definitely a different side of her here in this setting, on her ground. “That’s some powerful shit. Is that where he got his name? Aroma?”
Hannah smiled, wide and beautiful, even if it was aimed at the horse and not at him.
“He tries, and, no. It’s Aromashodu. His owner’s a big football fan.” She picked up the hose and the animal danced a nervous sidestep, his hindquarters quivering under the drops of water.
Time to get to it. He hadn’t exactly planned this, but now that he was here, he couldn’t let it go. “I wanted to apologize for the other night. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t.”
Well, shit. He rubbed at the back of his neck. He wanted her to accept his apology, needed her to. “Hannah, I’m really sorry. I didn’t—”
“I heard you.” She continued the bath, sluicing off the excess water with some kind of fancy plastic card.
He’d been about to say he didn’t mean it, not at all the way it had sounded. But maybe it was better left alone. Better if she didn’t care.
“Everything okay?” Nick asked, standing in the yawning doorway of the barn.
“Yes,” she answered, then looked right at Stephen. “We’re finished.”
And they were finished. He hadn’t come here to change that, except…they were finished before they’d even started.
She led the horse back into the barn and he followed, waiting for her to close and secure the stall door. She took her time hanging the rope just so, then finally faced him. He hadn’t kissed her, hadn’t made her smile again the way he’d wanted to that first day.
So beautiful. He could picture her in a castle tower like something out of a fairy tale. And in that same story he’d be the villain. The one who scared small children and dreamed of far worse.
“Stephen!”
They both turned at the sound of a female voice. Camila wobbled on spiky heels next to his car, fanning a bug from her face. “You said a minute. It’s been almost twenty.”
Had it been that long? Didn’t seem like it.
“I have meetings and so do you.”
Stephen turned from Camila back to Hannah, a million possible things to say flying through his mind and none of them right.
“Bye,” she said softly.
Right. He nodded, repeated it, since it was really the only thing to say. And then he walked to his car, feeling like he’d just lost something really important.
Chapter 8
Hannah refused to watch Stephen drive away in his sporty silver car with his red-hot companion. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around the fact he’d wanted to apologize or that he’d even known where to find her. Lizzy, she assumed. And she hated that on top of being shocked at seeing him again, it hurt.
She stepped into the shoe box–size office crowded with large men. Nick was still here, and now Zach as well. She’d heard his truck a few minutes ago as she finished with Roma.
“Wow. I’m so popular today. Three brothers in three hours. Lucky me.” She eyed Nick sitting near the door, then slid her gaze to Zach, leaning back in a metal folding chair in the corner. “What’s up?”
“Just brought you lunch.” Nick tossed her a bag.
She caught the bag, peered inside. “And you?” she asked Zach, knocking his feet off her desk. “No fires to put out? Women to chase?”
Zach grinned. “I heard there was lunch. Plus, chasing women is what usually starts the fires.”
“Right.” She sat in the worn desk chair and took out her sandwich.
Zach grabbed three cans of soda from the small fridge in the corner and tossed her one.
“Don’t throw it like that,” Hannah said. “It’ll spew.”
“Like a spew would hurt this ratty room.”
“It does the job.” Though he was right. Old wood paneling, aged pictures of horses and blue-ribbon cows covered the walls. The flooring was some sort of outdoor carpet so used up it was impossible to discern the original color. Decorating wasn’t high on her priority list. The boarders paid the bills. Any money made from students was invested in special equipment for the kids.
Nick stared at her with his most serious face. “We need to talk.”