Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
THORA
As soon as I step into the paddock, Cider lifts her head, her ears flicking forward.
“Hey, girl.” I close the gate behind me before walking over, my boots sinking slightly into the dirt. “Miss me already?”
She nestles against me while I massage along her neck, checking the muscle for any lingering stiffness. She’s still favoring one leg, but not nearly as much as before.
“She’s looking better today.”
I glance over my shoulder to find Charlie leaning against the fence, his arms resting across the top rail.
“Yeah.” I turn back to Cider, sliding my palm down her leg before guiding it forward just enough to test the stretch and see how she responds. “She’s a tough girl. Aren’t you, baby?”
She flicks her tail into my hip.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. You don’t need me telling everyone.”
Charlie laughs, and when I glance over, I catch him watching me a little too closely. Unease creeps through me, and I quickly return my attention to Cider.
“She really likes you,” he says.
“I think so too.” I trail my fingers along her neck. “She’s pretty amazing.”
“Yeah…she is.” The way he says it makes me wonder if we’re still talking about the horse, and I really hope we are.
His mouth twitches like he wants to say something else, but before he can, Boone, another one of our ranch hands, starts marching toward us.
“Well, if it isn’t the new horse.”
Boone studies Cider with a confident grin. Charlie glances at him, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly before he looks away. He definitely doesn’t like Boone, which isn’t much of a shocker.
The two guys couldn’t be more different. Where Charlie prefers books, Boone prefers the gym, and his body shows it too. His T-shirt stretches across his large shoulders, his biceps flexing, and I bet he did it on purpose just to piss Charlie off.
If this is some sort of pissing contest, I want no part. I have my own Russian caveman to worry about.
“She’s a beaut,” Boone throws in, leaning against the fence.
“That she is.” I brush a stray strand of hair out of my face as I straighten, Cider shifting beside me.
Boone’s eyes flick over me in a subtle way, but I know he was checking me out. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“So, you got plans tonight?” he asks. “Was going to grab a drink with a couple of friends. You’re more than welcome to come.”
When I glimpse at Charlie, his gaze drops to the dirt, his whole body growing taut.
I turn back to Boone, offering a kind smile. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not much of a drinker. You have fun, though.”
He doesn’t seem bothered, just steps away from the fence with that same carefree grin still in place. “No worries. Catch ya later. Gotta get back to work.”
“Bye, now.”
Charlie eases off the fence too. “Well, I should probably get back to it. Got some work to finish.”
“Yeah.” I turn back to Cider. “I’ll see you.”
“See ya later.”
His boots crunch against the dirt as he walks off, and I shake my head, glancing at Cider. She bumps my shoulder, and my laugh slips out.
“You just get me, don’t you, girl?”
Because neither of these guys does it for me. No one but Anton, and I guess I’m just going to have to live with that.
Once I’m finished with Cider, I make my way to the house on the farm to collect the containers of food waiting in the refrigerator. Every month, I bring homemade meals to a local homeless shelter, my own small way of giving back.
Before I can pull the keys from my handbag, a member of the cleaning staff opens the door for me.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Whitlock.”
“Hey. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you.”
She closes the door behind me, while I go over to the refrigerator and begin carrying the containers to the counter, arranging them one after another until there’s barely any room left.
“Need a hand?”
I glance over as one of the cooks walks in and reaches for a stack of containers before I can answer.
“Yeah. Can you help me box everything up?”
She nods and gets to work while one of the guards joins us, carrying the heavier boxes out to my SUV.
“I’m sure they’ll appreciate everything you made,” she says.
“I’m just glad I can feed people who need it.” I slide another container toward her.
I’ve always loved cooking, and doing something other than donating money gives me a greater purpose. Because what’s the point of having money if you can’t do anything good with it?
We quickly fall into a rhythm, and before long, the counter is clear and everything is packed into my SUV. I climb behind the wheel, start the engine, and drive down the long driveway. The shelter isn’t far, but I need to stop at my place first to pick up some paperwork they asked me to bring.
When I arrive, I rush inside, and as soon as I do, my body jerks. There is a subtle scent in the air, and I can’t quite place it. A cold shudder rolls through me.
Has someone been here? Has someone in the family found my place?
No. They would’ve said something by now.
I tread across the rooms, my eyes drifting over the entire place, checking for…I don’t even know what. But something feels off.
When I pass the kitchen, I freeze. The sink is empty.
“What the hell?”
I rack my brain, trying to remember if I did the dishes when I was here yesterday. I could’ve sworn I didn’t. Greer called, needing me at the farm for an emergency, so I rushed over. Maybe I washed them and forgot. It wouldn’t be the first time.
I open the cabinet and find the bowl and plate stacked neatly with the others.
Okay, weird. Really fucking weird.
I close the door and push the thought aside, turning my attention to the reason I came. Once I have what I need, I lock up and return to the car.
But even after I pull back onto the road, the unease follows me.
The farther I drive, the harder it becomes to convince myself I imagined any of it.