She Can Run (4 page)

Unsettled by his size and shocked by her response, she acknowledged his statement with a tight nod before stepping away. Moving past the scarred table, she stopped in front of the French doors. Her eyes skimmed over the vista. Forest fringed a broad expanse of sloping lawn shaded by towering oak trees. In the distance, a valley dipped off to the right, revealing a glassy lake through the trees. Beyond, green and brown mountain peaks and valleys rimmed the horizon.

The secluded nature of the estate had appealed to her two weeks ago when she’d stood in this very kitchen, but Daniel O’Malley’s death had changed everything. The safety she’d perceived here was an illusion, a mirage that had evaporated the moment she arrived yesterday. She felt like she was lost in the desert, unsure whether safety lay ahead or behind her. Her life, and those of her children, depended on her making the right choice. That is, if she even had one. So far this morning, Jack hadn’t mentioned the will, her job, or anything at all about her possible future on the estate. He just might make that decision for her. Then what?

“What are your plans this morning, Beth?” Jack’s deep voice sounded behind her. His voice startled her out of her thoughts. She thought he’d already left the room. Had he just been standing there staring at her?

“The kids like horses, so we’ll spend the morning in the barn if that’s all right.”

“That’s fine.” Jack nodded. “Let me know if they look OK. One of the neighbors has been looking after them since Uncle Danny died, but I don’t know the guy very well. And I know absolutely nothing about horses.”

“OK.” Maybe if she showed him she was capable of taking care of the horses, he’d keep her on as caretaker.

Finished with his breakfast, Henry barked and scratched at the French door. Jack pulled it open and let him out with a sigh. “It would be helpful if you kept the dog with you. He’s hell on a buffet table.” He turned and limped toward an open doorway at the rear of the kitchen. Halfway through, he paused. “We’ll talk later.”

That’s what she was afraid of.

After a quick breakfast, Beth led the kids to the French doors off the kitchen. Jack and Mrs. Harris had withdrawn to prepare for the funeral. Standing to one side, she peered through the glass panes and scanned the open area of grass and the tree line beyond. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. She opened the door and listened. The quiet was punctuated only by the rustle of the morning breeze through the woods and the chirping of a robin.

Unfortunately, there were dozens of places to hide between the house and the barn.

She stepped through the doorway and out onto the patio. The kids and the dog followed. Beth kept one eye on Henry. Would he know if someone was waiting out there?

A path led through a small copse to the barn and pasture. The air smelled organic, redolent with the heavy odor of grass layered over clean pine. Fifty yards from the barn, Henry spotted a squirrel and tore off through the woods. The squirrel raced up a tree. Henry ran circles around the base and barked.

Ben turned off the path. “I’ll go get him.”

“Me too.” Katie skipped after her brother, breaking into a jog to keep up with his longer strides. Ben took her hand.

“Don’t go any farther than that tree and stay together,” Beth called after them.

Ben waved over his shoulder. It was already clear that both kids enjoyed the freedom afforded them by the estate’s seclusion.

Beth strode into the cool barn and smiled at the welcoming nicker. A head bobbed over the half door of the closest stall. An impatient hoof rang against wood. The smell of hay and sawdust reminded her of the time before Brian’s death, when she’d had time for hobbies like the horseback riding that had been a part of her life since her teen years. Long before Richard’s deceit had destroyed their lives.

A shadow to her left moved and Beth jumped.

“Hello.” A figure stepped out of a doorway.

Beth’s heart seized. “Oh.” She placed a palm over her pounding chest.

The neighbor. Please let this be the neighbor.

He was in his early thirties, on the short side and slight of build. His red short-sleeved polo shirt was buttoned all the way up the front and emphasized his ruddy complexion.
For Christ sakes, chill
. A pocket protector away from nomination to the Geek Squad, this fellow hardly looked like a threat.

“I’m Jeff Stevens. My farm is just over the hill there.” He pointed to the buttercup-dotted meadow that rose on the other side of the barn. Sweat beaded his brow. “Are you all right?”

Get a grip
. “Just surprised, that’s all.”
So much for Henry’s superior canine hearing
.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and slouched. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine. I’m Beth.” She backed out of the aisle into the sunlight. In the open space of the barnyard, she took a deep breath. She knew she should probably explain who she was and what she was doing in the barn, but she hardly knew herself. She just hoped he wouldn’t ask. “Jack said his neighbor was taking care of the horses.”

“That’s what neighbors are for. I liked Danny.” Jeff followed. Sunlight glared off his balding head as he stared at his work boots. “I just finished feeding the horses. Waiting for them to finish their breakfast so I can turn them out.”

Beth forced a smile. “I can do that this morning. I’m here anyway.”

“OK.” As he raised his eyes to her face, they paused fleetingly on her breasts. Then his face flushed as he stammered. “D-do you want me to show you where everything is before I go?”

She hesitated. Had that been a leer? Beth did not like the idea of being alone in the barn with him, but it wasn’t his fault she was paranoid. He was Jack’s neighbor. He didn’t work for Richard. “I’d appreciate that, thanks.” She stepped toward him.

Henry shot across the clearing, barking. He bounded up to Beth, jumped up, and placed both paws on her chest. She stumbled backward. “Henry, relax.”

The shepherd circled her legs and head butted her hip, putting his body between Beth and the neighbor.

“I’m sorry, Jeff. He’s a little rambunctious.”

“It’s all right,” Jeff insisted, but he moved back a half step and frowned at Henry. “He could use some obedience training.”

Ben jogged up and grabbed the dog’s collar, pulling him away from Beth. “He’s mad. The squirrel wouldn’t come down.”

Katie ran up beside her brother. When she saw Jeff, she ducked behind Ben and the dog.

Beth blew out a breath. The man was going to get suspicious if they all cowered away from him. And, really, he was only trying to be helpful.

Jeff stared at the kids and opened his mouth. Beth cut him off before he asked to be introduced. She didn’t like to give out their names if it wasn’t necessary. “You were going to show me around the barn.”

“Yes.” Jeff brightened and straightened his shoulders. “I was.”

Henry strained at the hold on his collar. Ben’s feet slid a few inches in the dirt. “Give it up, Henry. You’re never gonna catch that squirrel, buddy.”

Inside the barn, a horse’s kick rattled a loose door.

Jeff turned toward the barn. “Probably Lucy. She’s impatient.”

“We’re coming,” Beth called out as she followed him inside, waving gnats away from her face. Behind her, the dog whined and Ben talked to him in a low voice.

Jeff stopped at a doorway. “The feed’s in here.” He continued down the dirt aisle, pointing out the tack room and the ladder that led to the loft. An elegant chestnut head poked out of the first stall as they approached.

“This is Lucy. She was Danny’s favorite.” Jeff reached up and scratched the mare under her forelock. Lucy rubbed her nose against his chest.

“She’s beautiful.” Beth stepped up and patted the side of the animal’s sleek neck. The warm, horsey smell eased the tension from her shoulders.

“Lucy’s the only one that’s a handful to ride. The three geldings are fat and lazy.” Jeff’s gaze caught on her breasts again, and he blushed all the way up to his sparse, receding hairline. OK, that had definitely been a leer. Beth stepped backward and crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously as he introduced her to the other horses. An engraved nameplate hung on each stall door. Smaller identification tags were fastened on the side of each animal’s leather halter.

“Thanks so much, Jeff.” She stroked the mare’s nose as Lucy nibbled at her T-shirt. Beth gently pushed the muzzle away. “What kind of farm do you have?”

“I train dressage horses.”

“Really?” Beth was impressed. Dressage was the equivalent of ballet or gymnastics on horseback. Jeff must be a skilled horseman.

“I sold a gelding in ‘05 that went on to the Olympic trials last year.” Jeff’s chest puffed out just a little.

“That’s amazing.”

He blushed at the compliment. “I guess I’ll be going then. Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything. I’ll be back tonight.”

“OK. Thanks again.” Beth followed him to the back door, where a beat-up Jeep Wrangler was parked in the shadow of the building. He climbed in, started the engine, and drove across the meadow with a short wave. The jeep’s engine rumble faded. Beth breathed in the scent of warm summer grass and wildflowers.

If she could stay here, she wouldn’t have to deal with strangers every day, just one odd, mildly perverted, and socially inept neighbor. At James’s tavern each new customer had been a potential threat. What would it be like to not have her heart seize twenty times a day?

But what was Jack going to say? It appeared as if he were in charge, but had he inherited the estate? Regardless, surely someone needed to look after the place, at least in the short term. He said he knew nothing about horses, so that someone wasn’t going to be Jack. She found herself hoping there might be a place for her and the kids here.

Suddenly Beth was looking forward to their afternoon discussion. She was tired of being in limbo. But would he answer the ten-thousand-dollar question?

Would Jack let them stay?

CHAPTER THREE

“I’m surprised you’re still here.” Jack winced as pain pulsed through his leg. Around the house he managed fine with one crutch, but the uneven ground of the barnyard was a different story. It didn’t help that, courtesy of yesterday’s scotch infusion, he felt like the sun was boring holes directly through his retinas into the back of his skull.

Beth brushed the gleaming shoulder of a large brown horse tied to the fence in the shade of a tree. Since he’d just gotten off the phone with the attorney, he supposed it was
his
large brown horse. The animal seemed bigger now that he was up close and personal with it. And it smelled like shit. Literally.

“I said I would be.” Beth glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes for a split second. Sweat glistened on her forehead and had darkened the back of her T-shirt. She swallowed, her gaze darting to her children a dozen yards away. In the shade of a mature oak, Ben groomed a black horse with a speckled patch of white across its rump. On the other side of the tree, Katie sat on the ground with Henry.

The kids had been talking and laughing before Jack drove up, but as soon as he walked into the barnyard, they’d fallen into complete silence. The boy kept one wary eye on him and the little girl refused to look at him at all. Just like this morning in the kitchen, when the children had nearly climbed the wall to get as far away as possible from him. Normal kids weren’t afraid to walk into rooms. Normal kids weren’t this meek and quiet. He’d felt like an ogre, especially when Mrs. Harris told him later that they’d settled in fine after he’d left the kitchen.

The afternoon sun beat down on the top of his head. He wiped his brow on his sleeve and sidestepped into the very edge of shade, trying not to get too close to the horse. His toe caught on a rock, twisting his leg. Fire shot through his knee. He breathed through his nose and waited for the pain to recede to a manageable throb.

Crinkling her brow, Beth nodded toward his leg. “Shouldn’t you stay off that?”

“It’s OK.” She was right. He should have his leg elevated and packed in ice. But he’d already sucked up his pride driving the short distance to the barn in Danny’s golf cart. Interviewing his prospective new employee from the sofa would make him feel like total waste of space. A man could only take so much humiliation.

She looked doubtful but turned her attention back to grooming the horse, continuing to run the brush rhythmically along the length of its neck.

“I’ve decided to accept the terms of my uncle’s will.”

He watched Beth’s hand freeze mid-sweep as she waited for him to continue. The arm that poked out of her T-shirt sleeve was way too thin, but her worn jeans hugged a nicely curved ass.

“Which makes me the new owner of this estate,” he added.

She jolted back into action without a word, moving away from him, down the horse’s body to clean its belly with long strokes.

Most nervous people were prone to chatter. He’d questioned hundreds of scared people: criminals, victims, and everything in-between. Beth had clearly learned to control her emotions somewhere along the line. But when? And why?