“What’s her story?”
Ellen glanced at the mare grazing peacefully. “She’s a track reject. She was beaten over the poll by a male trainer because she was afraid of the starting gate.” She snorted. “Like that was going to help. I can’t wear a hat around her. She doesn’t let a man get within ten feet of her.”
The silence beside her was midnight deep. Ellen had to fight the urge to look back at the man with the damaged face and seductive voice. But she felt him—almost as intimately as if he were a lover. His presence pressed against her with a magnetic force that felt oddly familiar and had her holding her breath, waiting for something. What, she wasn’t sure.
“If I can get past her and bring in Apollo, will you reconsider me for the job?”
“Why do you want to work where you’re not wanted?”
“Your friend said you’d had some trouble and could use a hand.”
Taryn had said that? To a stranger? Why? Bancroft had the influence to cause her trouble, but he wouldn’t resort to a physical attack. Would he? “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“This stampede wasn’t natural.”
She shrugged, hating that he echoed her own fear. She’d seen the look of pure panic on all the horses’ faces. How far would Bancroft go to get these horses back? “Anything could have caused them to run. A deer. A skunk. A snake in the grass.”
He nodded.
“I can handle it,” she said.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I’m just offering a helping hand.”
She looked at Apollo. If he were human, he’d be the type to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating from the terror of reliving his trailer ordeal. Since the accident, he’d refused to bed down in a stall. Just getting him inside the barn’s wide center aisle to doctor his cut back leg took an infinite reserve of patience.
She looked at Luci. The pain the mare had suffered had altered her permanently. The mere sight of a saddle, any weight on her back, glazed her eyes and sent her into a shocked stupor. Even six months of care and patience hadn’t convinced her it was safe to wear a halter.
Then forearms leaning on the top rail, she looked over her shoulder at the man and his canine companion. He wasn’t Garth Ramsey come back to haunt her. He wasn’t Bancroft threatening to take the horses by force. He was just a ranch hand. The only thing he wanted from her was the dignity of working for his supper.
Like her horses, he was broken. Being judged by his scars rather than his skills was more than likely an everyday battle. The haunted look in his dark eyes was one she’d seen in every horse in her care. One meal. What would it hurt? “Every horse here has suffered either physical or mental abuse, most often both. I won’t stand for any strong-arm tactics.”
“I don’t believe in violence.” A ghost of pain shadowed his eyes, making her wonder what curve life had thrown him.
“If you can get past Luci and bring Apollo in without using force or violence, I’ll look at your references.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
ELLEN HAD NEVER KNOWN anyone with such an instinctual understanding of horses. Phone in hand, she stared at Kevin through her kitchen window. Out in the pasture, a silent conversation was taking place between Luci and Apollo and the man. He balanced approaching and retreating with the horses’ curiosity and fear. There was a racehorse-like ripple of power to his muscles when he moved that warmed her with unwanted pleasure.
“What’s going on?” Taryn asked on the other end of the line.
“I’m not sure.” She gave Taryn a blow-by-blow account of the slow developments.
Kevin was standing head to chest, shoulders rounded and motionless, waiting for the horses to make the next move. He’d removed his baseball cap, and his jet-black hair seemed to absorb the early-evening light. Luci was the first to give in to curiosity. She took three steps toward Kevin. Then she took another. Ever so slowly, she approached until she stood a few feet from him. Another few steps and she was standing next to him, head low. Five minutes later, he was touching her. In another ten, she was following him back to the pen behind the barn as if mesmerized.
Ellen gasped.
“What?” Taryn asked. “What happened?”
“Luci’s following him like a puppy.”
“Wow!”
“It took me a week to get her to let me touch her. A month to get her to follow me.”
Taryn chuckled. “I’m sensing a bit of jealousy.”
“Of course not.” She wasn’t jealous, was she? Luci was finally starting to trust. That was good. I’m cheering her progress. I’m not jealous. Frowning, she turned to the stove and stirred the spaghetti sauce she’d thrown together for dinner. “Why’d you send him out here?”
“Chance said you needed some help.”
“But why him?”
Ellen heard Taryn take in a long breath. “I don’t like the idea of you being out there alone with Bancroft making trouble for you. Kevin looks more than capable.”
Too capable. “I can handle Bancroft.”
“But can you afford to? Remember the talk-show host he sued last year for disparaging beef? He dug out every bit of dirt possible on her and flung it all over the air. She’s still trying to do damage control.”
“Having a man around the ranch isn’t going to solve that type of attack.” Ellen blew out a breath. “He’s a stranger, Taryn. I can’t have him stay here.”
The sounds of Chance and Shauna playing filtered through the line. The baby laughed wholeheartedly at Chance’s baby talk, tugging a reluctant smile from Ellen.
“I know,” Taryn said. “But I like him.”
“Didn’t his face throw you off?” Ellen frowned at the pot and stirred the thick red sauce.
“You know, after a couple of minutes, I didn’t even see his scars. He’s got a great laugh. In a way, he sort of reminds me of Chance.”
Ellen’s frown deepened. When she thought of Kevin, it wasn’t his face that came to mind either. Since feeding time, it was his hands. He had the most beautiful hands she’d ever seen on a man. The horses seemed to love his touch. Some ancient-Greek sculptor would have paid a small fortune for the privilege of immortalizing them in bronze or marble. Then there was the voice. She shook her head and turned down the heat under the sauce.
“Still,” Ellen said, not quite knowing what it was she wanted from Taryn.
“You checked out his references.”
Oh, yeah, she’d checked. Staring at the spice shelf, she couldn’t remember what she’d wanted. Everyone had spoken of Kevin Ransom in glowing terms. The praise had sounded genuine, the pleasure in his skill heartfelt. They’d made a Ransom-raised horse sound like a true prize. She’d heard enough stories of the horses he’d helped to fill a book. “Yes, but…”
“But what? You need help and he’s obviously qualified. How can Judge Dalton use your rehabilitation against you when you’ve got Kevin around?”
Oregano in hand, Ellen turned to the window. If anything, Kevin was overqualified to work as a mere ranch hand. Something wasn’t right. But what? Letting Apollo set the pace, Kevin was luring him into the net of his spell. A shiver danced across her shoulders.
That was it, she decided. Kevin could cast a spell.
He’d done so with his dog, with Taryn, with the horses. And she was afraid that, in her weakened state, she could easily fall prey to it, too, and