Chapter 2 #2
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Ms. Hammond waiting for him to leave.
Her five-foot-six-ish frame stood rigid as her long, medium-brown hair lifted in the light wind.
She was a beautiful woman, still holding onto the curves from at least one pregnancy.
He may have been celibate for two decades, but he was still a healthy heterosexual male, so it didn’t surprise him when his body reacted to her attractiveness.
Reverend Stevens had told him the woman was a widowed mother, and a couple also lived on the property while working for her.
He tipped his cap to her. “Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice day.”
“You, too, Mr. Westfield.”
“By the way, I like your shirt.”
He didn’t wait for a reply as she glanced down, probably trying to remember which shirt she had on.
Hoofing it again, he hadn’t gotten more than a hundred feet when the sound of an engine coming up the drive, accompanied by a veil of dust, caught his attention.
Ms. Hammond obviously saw it as well, and if her spat-out “damn it” was any sign, she wasn’t happy about it.
Stepping to the side of the drive to avoid being run over, he watched as two men in a black Ford pickup drove by.
Something niggled in his brain and made him decide to stick around for a few minutes to make sure there was no trouble.
Especially when he noticed Ms. Hammond pull a handgun from behind her back.
Oh, hell, this can’t be good.
Tossing his duffel over the fence of the front pasture, he took a few steps back toward the house as the two men climbed out of the truck. Ms. Hammond kept the weapon at her side and pointed to the ground, but Adam felt she wouldn’t hesitate to use it if she had to.
“Get the hell off my property, Bart, or you’ll be patching up bullet holes in that brand-new truck of yours. And take your attack dog with you.”
Oh, yeah. Definitely not good.
Since she glared at the tall man with the black cowboy hat, who’d been the front-seat passenger, Adam assumed he was “Bart.” That meant the shorter driver in the brown Stetson was the “attack dog”—whatever she meant by that.
Both men were in their forties and dressed in typical ranching clothes—jeans, cowboy boots, and T-shirts, probably because of the heat.
Bart held his hands out to his sides. “Now, come on, Sage. There’s no need for the gun. I’m just here to make you another offer on the ranch. You know you’ll have to sell soon if you can’t get caught up on the mortgage with the bank.”
Her eyes went wide with shocked annoyance. “Who the hell told you that?”
The man shrugged. “You know how the small-town information mill is. Mark’s medical bills had to run over a hundred thousand—anyone with a brain could figure that out.
I’m just trying to help you out. I’m more than willing to give you a fair price for the land.
You’ll be able to settle with the bank and still have a little left over.
If the bank forecloses, you will have nothing left.
Hell, you can’t even keep any hired help besides Evan and Maddie.
Nobody wants to work for the peanuts you’re paying. ”
Adam stopped a few feet behind the arrogant jerk and crossed his arms. “Well, almost nobody.”
Surprised, Bart pivoted to face him. Apparently, the man hadn’t noticed him or didn’t realize he was still there. “Who the hell are you?”
“Adam Westfield. And you are?”
The rancher eyed him curiously from head to toe before answering. “Bart Sherman. I own Rosewood Hills Ranch up the road. You must be new in town.”
Behind the man, Ms. Hammond came down to the bottom step and thankfully lowered her weapon. “He is, and he’s also my new employee.”
The rancher’s gaze never left Adam’s. “Is that so?”
He wouldn't say otherwise. Ms. Hammond may have changed her mind about hiring him, or she may have said it just to get rid of the man. Either way…
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“Hmph.” Sherman put his hands on his hips. “You must be crazy to work for free or just shy of it.”
Ignoring the woman’s sputter of disbelief at the statement, Adam didn’t back down. “Well, some people may question my sanity, but I don’t. As for the pay, it’s a good thing money isn’t on my list of coveted things I need in life. I’ll take work wherever I can get it.”
“Well, don’t plan on keeping this one for long. Either Sage sells to me, or the bank will foreclose soon. When that happens, feel free to come over to my ranch. I’m sure we can find some work for you there.”
Movement at the side of the house caught his eye, and Adam’s gaze shifted to see an older man standing quietly but watching the confrontation with keen interest. A shotgun lay cradled in his arms. The man was probably one half of the couple who worked on the ranch, whom Reverend Stevens had told him about.
Adam’s attention returned to Sherman. “I’m much obliged. If that time comes, I’ll think about it.” Not likely. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some work to do.”
Sherman didn’t seem thrilled about being dismissed and spun back to face Ms. Hammond. “You better think real hard about my offer, Sage, before it’s too late.”
With a glance over his shoulder at Adam, the man climbed up into the truck as his driver did the same. The tires kicked up an angry cloud of dirt as the vehicle did a U-turn and headed out to the main road.
Now that the other men were gone, the bravado on Ms. Hammond’s face diminished somewhat.
Not wanting her to feel obligated to go through with what had been a spur-of-the-moment statement about him being her new employee, Adam walked back to retrieve his duffel.
Hoisting it on his shoulder one more time, he followed the fading trail of dust the truck had left in its wake.
“Hey! Wait a minute! Hold up!”
He stopped and turned to see her running toward him. The handgun was nowhere in sight—she must have holstered it again behind her back. In silence, he waited for her to catch up to him.
Halting a few feet away from him, she took a deep breath and let it out. “I-I’m sorry about that. You didn’t have to get involved in my mess, but thank you for doing so.”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “No worries. I hope everything works out for you.”
When he began to leave again, she reached out and touched his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks.
“Wait. I mean… if you’re still interested in the job, I could really use the help.
As Bart said, it doesn’t pay a lot, but my housekeeper is an excellent cook, and you’d have your own cabin here on the property. ”
He tilted his head and studied her. While she was still wary of him, he saw something else in her eyes… hope.
Lowering his duffel again, he stood tall and met her gaze.
“I was arrested for killing a man who was in the process of molesting a young boy. It was a man I'd worked beside for many years, and I guess you could say I just snapped. I’ve regretted it ever since and will continue to do so until my dying day. While I never would’ve let him get away with what he’d done, I wish I hadn’t taken his life.
I pled guilty to manslaughter and served a little over five years of a ten-year sentence.
Other than that, I’ve never intentionally broken the law before, and I hope I never have to again.
I guess the only other thing I should mention is I go to church every Sunday.
I’d appreciate it if I could have that time off from work. If you still want to hire me, that is.”
After his first sentence, her mouth had dropped open, but she let him continue. He gave her a moment to digest what he’d told her and decide whether it was something she could live with. He would understand if she changed her mind once again.
“Um… okay. Is there a way I can confirm what you told me? I mean, I have my family to think about.”
“Yes, ma’am. You can call the Middletown Police Department in New York and ask for Detective Shane Stewart—he should be on duty today.
He’s not only my foster brother, but he’s also one of the detectives who arrested me.
He’ll answer any questions you have. You can also contact Sing-Sing Correctional Facility in Ossining, New York.
They’ll confirm I was a model prisoner during my stay there. ”
She briefly bit her lower lip. “What about the internet or newspapers?”
“The boy’s father is the head editor of the local newspaper.
He made sure the incident never appeared in print or online.
He had friends in the courts and got the case files sealed.
You won’t be able to access them without a court order.
” He paused. “I know this makes you uneasy, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to hire me. ”
“No! I mean, yes, I’m a little wary—you’re a stranger, after all—but if what you told me is the truth, then I’d be willing to hire you—on a trial basis, of course.”
The corners of his mouth curved upward. “Of course. I can wait here if you want to make those calls, Ms. Hammond.”
“Sage, please.” She stepped aside and gestured toward the house. “And why don’t you come up to the porch? I’ll bring you out some breakfast while I’m on the phone. It’s the least I can do for helping me deal with Bart.”
With a genuine smile forming on his face, he dipped his head. “Much obliged, ma’am… I mean, Sage. Thank you.”