Читать книгу To Tempt a Wilde - Kimberly Terry Kaye - Страница 13
Chapter 6
Оглавление“Looks like Althea’s working out pretty good. Don’t you think?”
Nate threw his hat down on the sofa and strode toward the kitchen. Ignoring his brother, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a Heineken. Turning, he offered the bottle up in the air, silently asking Holt if he wanted one.
“Thanks,” he said, and caught the bottle as Nate tossed it his way, humor lurking in his blue eyes when he narrowly missed the bottle making a direct hit to his head.
Nate popped open the bottle top and raised it to his lips, ready to feel the cool amber liquid slide down his throat.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” he asked, eyeing his brother over the bottle.
“Can’t you own up to the fact that you were wrong?”
Again, Nate ignored his brother. They’d agreed, by silent consent, to let the matter drop about Althea’s working at the ranch. But that didn’t mean he liked the idea now, any more than he had a week ago when he’d found her in his stable.
He’d just made damn sure she was nowhere near him at any given time.
“What’s the real problem? And don’t give me that bullshit that she’s not pulling her weight…that horse won’t fly.”
Nate barely checked his anger. The less he showed Holt how much the woman in question was affecting him, the easier it would be to ignore the need to knock the Cheshire grin off his brother’s face.
Only when he finished off the bottle did he answer, making sure he kept his face carefully neutral. “Wouldn’t know. Haven’t been paying attention.”
The comment elicited a laugh from Holt. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll start to believe it,” he said.
“From what the foreman says, she’s been following him around. Hardly seems like she’s earning the money you and Shilah decided to advance her.”
“She’s learning the job. Just like all the others who first come. And she’s working hard, Nate. Damn hard,” Holt said, his normal smirking humor missing, a seriousness taking its place.
Nate hid his surprise. Of the three of them, Holt was always the one with a ready joke, the one with the most laid-back sense of humor. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear his brother was involved with the woman.
The thought brought on unreasonable and completely unexpected anger.
“Which one of you is interested in her?” He meant the question to come out lightly, but he heard the underlying anger himself and knew it hadn’t escaped Holt’s attention when he raised one blond brow.
“You need to give her a chance” was his only response.
That only added fuel to a fire already blazing out of control. He and Holt stared at one another, neither one giving an inch. “I don’t need to give her anything. She’s no different than any of the others. Make sure you remember that. Just give her the same jobs as any new recruit—”
“As in?” Holt broke in. “You won’t let her near the house. Which makes no damn sense, as that’s the reason we hired her, to help Lilly out. So what is it exactly that you want her to do?”
“Hell, I don’t care, muck out the stalls for all I care, just give her a real job.”
Holt lifted a brow. “Seriously? Man, are you serious? Muck the stalls? Who are you trying to turn her into, Nate, some kind of modern-day Cinderella?”
Holt kept his eyes on Nate, finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle in the recycle bin. Before he left he turned to face Nate again. “And I guess that would make you her knight in shining armor?” This time he laughed outright, his laughter booming off the walls when he gave Nate the “salute.”
Once alone, with a disgusted snarl, Nate pushed away from the stool and stood.
“Okay Cinderella…time for you to do some real work; stay out of my way and out of my head.”
Althea pushed the broom across the cement floor, pausing to wipe at the sweat that ran down her face, ran in rivulets down her neck and saturated the front of her T-shirt.
After reporting to the foreman yesterday, she’d been told there was to be a change in duties for her, which Althea was glad to learn. She didn’t want anyone thinking she wasn’t here to work. She’d been told that most of the men would be busy with other duties for the week, duties that didn’t require her to watch and learn from them, and that she was going to be on her own.
She’d not even batted an eye when the older man, slightly red-faced, had told her what her job for the day was.
“Muck out the stalls? Seriously, I’m mucking out stalls,” Althea mumbled aloud as she pushed the broom across the floor.
So it wasn’t the most pleasant job she’d ever had, she thought, the musky smell making her wrinkle her nose. But she’d had worse jobs over the past two years. And she actually welcomed the hard work.
Yet she was under no illusions about whose idea this had been.
Her first day at the ranch, Shilah and Holt had allowed her to settle in, and the following days she’d alternated between helping Lilly in the kitchen and following one of the ranch hands, learning the operation. He’d not only showed her around but had also put her to work when she’d shown her competence at catching on quickly.
The work had been hard, and at the end of the day her muscles ached, but it had been a satisfying type of ache, the kind that came from doing something she’d found out she truly enjoyed doing, unlike the way she’d felt in her previous jobs.
Althea had felt a sense of pride at her accomplishments, although small, and found herself falling in love with the ranch with each passing day.
Now, as she pushed the wide brush broom over the cement floor, pausing to wipe away the sweat across her brow, a movement from her peripheral vision made her pause, her heartbeat strumming against her chest.
She placed the broom to the side and walked slowly toward the entry. She was out in one of the less populated areas of the ranch, alone with the exception of the few animals that grazed on the south pasture. Looking outside the opened double doors she scanned the area, seeing nothing more than what she’d expect, and slowly turned around and walked back inside, picking the broom back up and continuing.
She was alone. She shook off the nagging feeling, one she’d become used to, that hinted that he was just there, around the corner, ready to pounce.
He couldn’t have found her. She’d been so careful this time. When she’d left Montana, she’d driven for miles in the opposite direction, checking her rearview mirror constantly to see if there was someone following her. Once she’d been assured there wasn’t, she’d taken the turnaround and gone in the direction of the ranch.
Her hand brushed over the scar beneath the bangs she wore to hide it. She would never be caught unaware, ever again.
With a shaky sigh, Althea forced the painful memories away. As she worked, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone. On edge, she quickly went back to work cleaning and restocking the individual stalls with fresh hay.
A loud banging had her swinging around, broom in hand, clenched tightly and placed in front of her. Ready to fight, she spied a small cat scurrying away after toppling over one of the bales of hay.
“I’ve got to get it together. He’s not here,” she whispered, relaxing her grip on the broom.
Blowing out a sigh, she quickly finished. It was just nerves. She’d been on edge, the nagging feeling that she was being watched had started making her see things, thinking Reggie had somehow found her. And thoughts of Nate Wilde hadn’t made it any easier.