“If you put that weapon away, yes.”
He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans and stepped back. “You want a drink?”
As she came in, he realized how truly short she was. And she probably weighed ninety pounds tops—soaking wet while holding a bale of hay.
“No, thank you. I do not abide by alcohol. But I would care to avail m’self of your facilities. I’ve had a long trip.”
“They’re over there.”
“Thank you kindly.”
He leaned out his door. The pickup truck she’d evidently driven here from God only knew where was parked on the left, the engine still ticking after she’d turned it off.
As he shut the heavy weight and went through the procedure of relocking things, a toilet flushed in the back of the house and the water ran. A moment later, the girl emerged and went over to look at the trophies.
Edward returned to his chair, grimacing as he arranged himself. “When?” he asked as he poured the rest of the vodka into his glass.
“A week ago,” she replied without looking over at him.
“How.”
“Trampled. Well, the doctors say his heart gave out, but it was caused by a trample. That how you got maimed?”
“No.” He took a long drink. “So what are you doing here.”
Now she turned around. “My father always said I was to come and find you if anything ever happened to him. He said you owed him. I never asked for what.”
Edward regarded her for a long time. “How old are you? Twelve?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Jesus, you’re young—”
“Watch your mouth around me.”
He had to smile. “You’re just like your old man, you know that?”
“So people say.” She put her hands back on her hips. “I’m not lookin’ for no handouts. I need a place to stay and work to do. I’m good with horses, just like my father, and bad with people—so you’re warned up front on that one. I got no money, but my back is strong and I’m not afraid of nothing. When can I start.”
“Who says I’m looking for any help?”
She frowned. “My dad said you’d need it. He said you’d have to have more help.”
The Red & Black was a big operation, and there were always vacancies. But Jeb Landis was a complicated blast from the past—and his kin was contaminated by association.
And yet … “What can you do?”
“It’s not rocket science to muck stalls, keep the horses in shape, watch the pregnancies—”
He waved away her words. “Fine, fine, you’re hired. And I’m just being a prick because, like you, I can’t get along with people anymore. There’s a vacant apartment next to Moe’s over in Barn B. You can move in there.”
“Point the way.”
Edward grunted as he got back to his feet and he purposely brought his glass with him as he led the way to the door. “Don’t you want to know how much I’ll pay you.”
“You’ll be fair. My father said that dishonesty was not in your character.”
“He was being generous on that one.”
“Hardly. And he knew men and horses.”
As Edward went through the unlocking procedure again, he could feel her looking at him and hated it. His injuries were the result of a hell he would have prefered to keep private from the world.
Before he let her out of the cottage, he stared down at her. “There’s only one rule.”
“What’s that?”
For some reason, he took stock of her features. She was nothing like her father physically—well, other than that small frame. Shelby—or whatever her name was—had eyes that were pale, not dark. And her skin wasn’t the consistency of leather. Yet. She also didn’t smell like horse sweat—although that would change.
Her voice, however, was all Jeb: That twang of hers was backed up by a solid core of strength.
“You don’t go near my stallion,” Edward said. “He’s mean to the core.”
“Nebekanzer.”
“You know him.”
“My father used to say that that horse had gasoline in his veins and acid in his eyes.”
“Yeah, you know my horse. Don’t go near him. You don’t muck his stall, you don’t approach him if he’s out to pasture, and you never, ever put anything over that stall door if you want to keep it. That includes your head.”
“Who takes care of him?”
“I do.” Edward limped out into the night, the heavy, humid air making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. “And no one else.”
As he tried and failed to take a deep inhale, he wondered if all those doctors had missed an internal injury. Then again, maybe the sense of suffocation was the image of this small woman anywhere near that hateful black stallion. He could just imagine what Neb could do to her.
She went ahead of him and grabbed a backpack out of the passenger side of the truck. “So you’re in charge here.”
“No, Moe Brown is. You’ll meet him tomorrow. He’ll be your boss.” Edward started off toward the barns. “Like I said, the apartment next to his is furnished, but I don’t know when the last person lived in it.”