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RELIEF THAT THE MOUNTAIN lion hunt had been successful vied with Kiera’s anxiety about Madelynn’s accident. Trying to push both out of her mind, she resumed working with her images. It was much easier to get lost in the creative process than to deal with numbers and spreadsheets. Even the mundane and tedious task of adding keywords to the images so she could organize and sort them as her collection grew was a welcome task. A tap on the door startled her. Derek ambled into the room.
“You’re back already?” Kiera hadn’t been that caught up in her work that she wouldn’t have heard the cowboys returning from their workday.
“Thought we could go over what you’ve done before it’s time to eat.”
“Sure.” She closed her laptop and pulled up the notes she’d made on Derek’s computer. “I have questions before I can go much further.”
“Ask away.” Derek lowered himself onto the loveseat.
“I’ll start with the most important. I’ve been considering what we talked about before. You have unentered receipts going back three months. Are you going to be willing to commit to sitting down at your computer once a week and spending an hour or so dealing with the books?”
Derek ducked his head and tugged at his ear. “I’m thinking of the saying about the road to hell.” He gestured to the folders. “It’s kind of obvious I haven’t been keeping up. However, I did think my bookkeeper was handling things.”
“Forgive me for being honest. Your best bet might be to hire someone, give them access to your accounts, and have them take care of the basics. I can recommend someone from the bookkeeping company I used to work for. She’s retired, but does freelance work. She’s detail-oriented and would take a lot of pressure off you. I can set things up, which means she’d be taking over an established system, so you’d save the expense of system design. You don’t have to answer right away. Think about it. Realistically.”
“I will.”
“One other thing. I’ve been talking to Tanya. She’s got training in nutrition, and she keeps an eye on prices. It might make sense for you to let her take the lead on your weekly menu suggestions. Of course, you would come up with meals together but she knows what’s on hand, and how to create recipes based on what the bargains are each week. That could save you money.”
He tugged his ear again. “That makes sense. I wonder why she didn’t approach me.”
“Probably because she considers herself the employee, and you’re the boss, and she’s afraid to do anything you might interpret as—to use her words—not be her place.”
A hint of color stained his cheeks. “I’m happy to comply. Anything to keep her here. She’s a prize.”
Sounds of returning cowboys floated into the room, which meant dinner wouldn’t be far off. And then, her riding lesson. Derek’s cell interrupted. Kiera rose to leave, but Derek motioned her to stay.
He listened for a moment, then said, “Got it. Thanks,” and disconnected the call.
She waited. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her.
Tanya interrupted with her mealtime announcement.
“On our way,” Derek said.
Frank was noticeably missing from the table when they’d filled their plates and taken their seats.
Tim must have noticed the way her gaze kept darting to the empty seat, because he said, “Sherlock’s gone to the doctor.”
“Doctor?” Frank hadn’t said anything to her about seeing a doctor. Or that he might be late for their riding lesson. Not that she minded it being put off. “What happened?”
“Mountain lion scratched him. He’s okay, but he needs a tetanus shot,” Tim said.
She was an outsider here, she reminded herself. A guest. Nobody owed her any explanations of anything. But still. A mountain lion? “The mountain lion you killed? You did say you killed it, didn’t you?”
“Yep,” Tim said. “Don’t worry. Tanya will save him his dinner.”
Dinner? That’s what Tim was thinking about?
She took a few sips of lemonade to calm herself. Tim was the jokester. He’d make light of everything. Even a mountain lion attack.
Why hadn’t Frank said anything? True, they didn’t have anything more than a burgeoning friendship, but wouldn’t a friend tell another friend—even a burgeoning one—about being injured by a mountain lion? At this point, she wasn’t sure what Tim’s description of a scratch meant.
No, if it had been worse, she’d have noticed something in the way Frank had handled dealing with his horse. If it was serious, he’d have gone straight to the doctor, wouldn’t he?
Thoughts of Ben cramped her gut.
Derek cleared his throat, effectively changing the subject. “Made a deal with Rusty. He’s going to loan us his mowing and baling equipment as a thank you for dispatching the lion this morning.” Derek’s grin held a hint of mischief. “It’s hay time.”
Tim and Bryce groaned. Apparently, hay time wasn’t popular. But there would be picture-taking opportunities, and if she envisioned the process correctly, they wouldn’t need to be taken from the back of a horse.
~~
CLUTCHING THE VIAL of antibiotics, Frank rubbed his arm where the nurse had jabbed him. Maybe he had made things sound more urgent than they were when he’d told Derek the doctor had an opening this afternoon, and otherwise, it would be who knew how many hours in the ER. That the old mowing tractor was acting up again helped convince the boss the mowing could wait a day.
Or until they got the tractor running reliably, but as the old saying went, it was make hay while the sun shines. If the forecasts could be trusted, they were in for a decent stretch of dry weather. Frank chastised himself for his all about me attitude. Derek needed all the free hay he could get.
The dinner hour had come and gone, so he grabbed three fast-food tacos at the drive-through. Tanya would have set something aside for him, he knew, but he’d take it home for his evening meal. Now, he had a riding lesson to give.
Thoughts of spending time with Kiera erased the discomfort of the shot and the dread of haying. Her car wasn’t by the ranch house, so he drove on to the guesthouse and parked beside her Chevy. He jogged up the porch steps and knocked.
Kiera answered, still dressed as she’d been earlier. Not for riding. She hadn’t forgotten, had she?
Idiot. You should have let her know where you were. She probably assumed you weren’t coming.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “You didn’t think being attacked by a mountain lion was worth mentioning?” Her expression was more anger than sympathy.
He hiked a shoulder. “It wasn’t an attack.”
Because Tim shot it first.
“Whatever you want to call it, you had to see a doctor. Seems that would have been something that might have come up while we were talking.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I needed a tetanus shot. And antibiotics. Otherwise, I’ve been banged up worse working cattle. I’m ready for your riding lesson. There’s still plenty of time.”
“Derek said you’d all be doing hay baling, and I don’t need to be on a horse to take pictures of the process.”
“You’re living on a cattle ranch. You don’t want to ride a horse?”
“I’m vacationing on a cattle ranch. Working on Derek’s books and trying to establish a new career.”
“My point exactly. Riding horses is part of the cattle ranch experience. Won’t your articles be better if you’ve done what you’re describing?” He softened his tone, reached for her hand. “I’ll put you on a gentle horse. A very gentle horse.”
“It’s not that,” she said. “Come in for a minute.”
He followed her inside. “So, if it’s not the horse, what is it?”
She flopped onto the couch, and he sat beside her. She stared straight ahead. “Madelynn, the colleague I told you about, was in a car accident. It was bad.”
He rested a hand on her thigh. “I’m sorry. Will she be all right?”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “They don’t know yet. That’s only part of it. I know it’s silly, but I can’t stop thinking Stu might be involved.”
“You think he’d do something like that? From what you told me, he isn’t the violent type.”
“He wouldn’t have to be there. Or see it. He could have arranged it.” She swiped away the tear. “You’re right. It doesn’t seem like what he’d do. But I can’t get it out of my head.”
“The cops will be investigating the accident, won’t they?”
“I assume so.”
“I know it’s not what you’d normally do, but when I need to get away from bad stuff I can’t control, I go for a ride. How about you change, and we go meet Shiloh?”
She seemed about to protest, but with a deep sigh, she got up and trudged to the bedrooms.
Could Stu have orchestrated an accident? Easy in books and movies. In real life, not so much.
A few minutes later, she appeared wearing shiny black cowboy boots, jeans, a dark-gray Stetson, and black leather gloves. She’d bought a snap-front western shirt, too. Thoughts about what he'd like to do with those snaps intruded, but he shoved them away.
“Guess I’m ready,” she said. She climbed into Frank’s pickup.
At the barn, Frank’s first stop was the tack room. He grabbed a lead rope, draping it over a shoulder. Next, he went to the small fridge and pulled out the plastic container of treats—apples and carrots. He took a knife, cut some up, and handed Kiera several carrot chunks. The rest, he put in a small bag. “Shiloh loves her carrots. Give her one, and she’ll be your friend for life.”
They strolled to the paddock. “Which one is Shiloh?” Kiera asked.
“The dun,” Frank said.
Kiera shot him an exasperated look. “Mind elaborating?”
“She’s light brown with dark markings, and a stripe down her back.” By now, all the horses crowded the fence. Frank waved his bag of treats and strode a few paces away. The horses followed, and he offered treats, demonstrating to Kiera how to hold them in the flat of her hand.
Frank let himself into the paddock and grabbed Shiloh’s halter, clipped on a lead, and walked her to the gate.
The other horses knew the drill and ignored Frank once they had their treats. He opened the gate enough for Shiloh, and she plodded out behind him. After securing the gate, he turned to Kiera. “Rule number one. You never leave a gate open. Ever.”
“Got it,” she said.
“Okay, friendship time. Give Shiloh her carrots.”
He watched as Kiera extended her palm, and Shiloh lipped up the treat. Whatever Kiera’s reluctance about riding was, she didn’t show any fear of the horses.
He tied Shiloh to the hitching post and went back to the barn for her tack. As he worked, he explained what he was doing, but didn’t have Kiera try. She wouldn’t be here long, and he wouldn’t mind saddling her horse for the times she wanted to take pictures.
“Talk to her,” Frank said. “She likes to be scratched on her jowls.” He demonstrated. “I’m going to saddle up, and we’ll get started.”
“I should have brought my camera,” she said.
“Better not to deal with it on your first lesson.” Frank went to the barn, got Rio’s tack and repeated the process. He left Rio hitched to the post, then walked Kiera and Shiloh to the mounting block. He held the horse for her, and she—tentatively—climbed the stairs, gripped the saddle horn.
“Left leg in the stirrup, then swing your right leg over,” Frank said.
She followed his instructions and sat there, frozen.
He led Shiloh a few paces away from the block. “I need to adjust your stirrups,” he said.
Her face went as white as a pasture after a snowfall. Her words came out like bullets from a pistol. “I. Can’t. Do. This. I have to. Get Down.”