Redeemer Page 5

  The term “Wild West” came to mind watching her employer keep his seat on the agitated stallion. With his face suffused with excitement, a boyish grin creasing his whisker-shadowed, tanned cheeks, and revealing a flash of straight, white teeth, he didn’t resemble the brooding man she met yesterday. Her heart executed a funny flip as she reached the fence, joining three younger cowhands all keeping a vigilant eye on their boss.

  “Ma’am.” The sandy haired, twenty-something cowboy next to her tipped his hat in a polite greeting. “You must be the boss’s new hire. Welcome to the Coultrane Ranch. I’m Parker.”

  Sophie shook his outstretched hand, liking him already. Finally, someone who didn’t put her on edge for one reason or another. “Sophie. Nice to meet you.” She nodded toward the corral when Adrian’s exhilarated whoop rent the air. “That’s not one of their thoroughbreds, is it?” she asked, even though she was sure the stockier horse was of a different breed than the taller, sleeker prize champions they bred.

  “No, ma’am. Adrian also works with a group who tries to save the wild mustangs by periodically capturing one to train for the ranch. This one here will make a great cutting horse for the small herd of cattle the Coultranes keep. Once he’s broke to the saddle, that is.”

  Sophie winced when the horse continued to toss Adrian around. His bowed body looked like it was taking a beating, but his bulging quads as he gripped the stallion’s heaving sides and tight, corded ulnas revealed by his rolled-up sleeves proved he possessed the strength to win this match.

  “He’s braver than I would ever be.”

  Parker chuckled. “He’s got more guts than all of us, ma’am.”

  She slid the young hand a rueful glance. “Parker, if you want me to keep talking to you, quit ma’aming me. I’m not that much older than you.”

  His blue eyes twinkled as he replied, “Yes, ma’am…I mean, Sophie.”

  The cowhand next to Parker whistled and called out, “Record time, boss!”

  Turning her attention back to horse and rider, she grew warm watching Adrian ride the now subdued mustang around the corral, his face and neck damp with a sheen of perspiration despite the cool temperature, his black hair clinging to his nape and forehead. But that was nothing compared to the sudden heat wave pumping through her veins as he dismounted and his chaps drew her eyes to his groin. Then he turned and bent down to scoop up his Stetson, giving her an enticing view of his firm backside. Her nipples peaked, shocking her, but that was nothing compared to her reaction when he looked over at her, his boyish grin still in place as he settled his hat on his head. Catching a bottled water one of the guys tossed him, he tilted his head back and downed it in one long drink. Watching his thick, tanned throat working added yet another heated rush experience.

  A hell of a time, place, and person for my libido to decide to wake up.

  Self-consciousness swept through Sophie when his smile slipped into the straight slash of brooding discontent he’d shown her yesterday as he strode toward her. She hadn’t bothered cleaning up from working all morning because she had more to do this afternoon. Besides that, her appearance had stopped mattering to her, along with most things this past year, and she didn’t much care if her pulled-up ponytail was disheveled and loose strands hung in her face, or dust clung to her clothes, or that she wore no makeup.

  Which didn’t explain her nervous fidgeting when he stopped in front of her, close enough the heat from his sweaty body and laser-sharp gaze seeped through her skin.

  “Are you taking a break, or do you need something?”

  He didn’t sound unhappy, which eased Sophie’s tension, and she put it down to lingering consternation over Ashe’s interruption. “A break.” She waved a hand toward the mustang Parker was unsaddling. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

  “I was.” Adrian cast a quick glance around the now quiet stable yard then surprised her when he offered, “Come on. I’ll give you another tour, this one of the stable.”

  Apparently, he expected her to follow him, she mused as he pivoted and walked away. Given his mercurial and unreadable mood swings, if nothing else, she figured working for Adrian Coultrane would keep her on her toes. Besides, she didn’t mind following him inside the humongous fancy stable due to the enjoyable view of his backside framed in those chaps. Now, when thoughts of Kasey threatened to bring her down to the point of numbing despair, she could try to use this image to distract her from that ache.

  The stable was nothing like Sophie imagined, but then, New Orleans was best known for Mardi Gras and hurricanes, not horses. The entry walls were lined with pictures of famous racing horses and thoroughbreds, chairs with ornate, curved wooden legs and arms and padded seats sat below them, the matching table in between topped with a guest sign-in book, pen, and bamboo bowl of wrapped, hard candies. Adrian opened one side of a tall, double-wide doorway and stood back for her to enter ahead of him, proving he was in possession of some manners.

  “Oh wow.” Stopping on the threshold of the brick walkway, she ogled the long row of spacious stalls. Skylights in the high ceiling brought in an abundance of light and warmth, the open doors at the far end of the aisle allowing for air circulation. “They’re beautiful,” she said, eyeing the regal equine heads sticking out of a few stalls where the top half of the gates with wrought iron posts were slid open.

  “I think so.” He strolled over to the first horse and stroked the white star emblazoned on her black head. “This is Nightingale. She’s a sweetheart. We just retired her from breeding because we almost lost her last spring when she gave birth to twins.”

  Adrian’s caring tone laced with compassion revealed yet another side to his multifaceted, complex personality. Nightingale towered over Sophie, and she had to stretch her arm up to run her hand down her sleek neck, enjoying the ripple of muscle under her palm.

  “Do complications come up often with them?”

  “No, birthing comes naturally, but twins are rare, and most times, the pregnancy either doesn’t come to fruition or results in both foals not surviving. I won’t risk her by breeding her again.”

  Without another word, he turned and walked several stalls down, halting at the next in-house horse that gave him a friendly headbutt against his shoulder. Shaking her head, she patted Nightingale and joined him, admiring the shiny mahogany coat and long, feathered mane on the doe-eyed mare.

  She lifted her hand to pet her, but Adrian grabbed her wrist just as the horse showed a row of large teeth aimed her way. “She’s a jealous one.”

  With her pulse pounding double time against his calloused hold, she cut her gaze up to him to see if he was joking. He wasn’t, and humor worked its way through both her startled scare and the awareness of his touch seeping through her skin.

  Grinning, she drawled, “Your horse has a crush on you?”

  Just as she suspected he would, he scowled and dropped her arm. “Blanca is temperamental. Don’t come near her without someone right there with you.” Adrian swiveled his head toward the high-pitched neigh coming from the other side and on down the aisle. He pointed to the stunning charcoal gray. “Orage is our top stud. He hates this time of year. He’s safe to reach out to. Here.” He fished a sugar cube out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Put it in your palm and hold your hand out flat to keep from getting nipped.”

  Pleased, she did as instructed, her smile widening when his soft velvet muzzle tickled her hand. “Why does…Orage?”

  Adrian nodded. “It’s French for thunderstorm.”

  “Apropos. Why does he hate this time of year?”

  “No sex,” he returned, deadpan.

  “Excuse me?” She didn’t know why those two words caused heat to rush to her face. Maybe because the first thing to pop into her head was how they applied to her.

  “Horses are long-day breeders, meaning they’re affected by the length of daylight. As days shorten, melatonin production increases, and those in estrus decrease. We breed in the late spring, rotating mares as they foal after eleven months, making April through June our busiest months. Most are weaned around six months and sold shortly after acclimating to being separated from the mother.”

  “That makes sense. Thank you for explaining.”

  The door behind them opened and closed, followed by booted footsteps clomping against the brick aisle. They both turned and Sophie tensed seeing Ashe. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that made her uneasy when Adrian was the brooding, unreadable one.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Adrian’s sharp tone startled her. “What?” She would have to remember how astute her boss was, she thought, her head jerking around to see him staring at her with that intense look. “Nothing, but I should get back to work.”

  “Don’t rush off on my account,” Ashe said, joining them and reaching out to stroke Orage’s neck.

  “I’m not,” she returned with a note of defensiveness she couldn’t hide. “Thanks for the tour, Adrian. Excuse me.” Sophie could almost feel their eyes boring into her as she walked back down the wide aisle and out the door. She needed to get back to work to take her mind off how much she’d enjoyed listening to the fondness and pride in Adrian’s voice as he talked about his horses, not to mention her surprising reaction to his chaps-wearing, perspiration-glistening body and boyish grin earlier.

  Chapter Four

  “McCrorys just called. They’ve accepted our offer of seven hundred K for the fillies,” Ashe said.

  “Cut the crap and tell me what you did to Sophie,” Adrian snapped. Sophie’s pale face and sudden tenseness when Ashe came in was a telltale sign his cousin had upset her this morning.

  Ashe’s face went as granite hard as his voice. “Oh, for God’s sake, Adrian! I teased her is all. Regardless of what
you think, I’m not the ogre you believe I am. It’s not my fault if she can’t take a little ribbing about our playroom, just like Nicole’s death isn’t my fault. But you’ll continue to believe what you want.”

  “Her death wasn’t an accident,” he insisted.

  “In case we haven’t drilled it into your thick skull, you’re the only one who thinks that, and the only one who is accusing the very people you know best and who would never have done such a thing. Get over it, Cousin, before Nicole is not the only one you’ve lost.”

  Adrian watched him storm out, his gut twisted in knots. That wasn’t the first time one of them had said something like that. He missed the easygoing friendship and good times he used to share with his cousin and friends and hated the suspicions that now kept him apart from them. Nicole had admitted to the affair he’d accused her of that last day, throwing it in his face that she wasn’t the only one of those he was closest with who was betraying him. That’s why he was still as sure one of them was involved with Nicole’s death as he was Sophie’s face had reflected a hint of interest when he’d looked across the corral and seen her on the other side of the fence. His own pulse kicking up a notch at the thought of that interest that caught him even more off guard. His sexual appetite had gone dormant with his wife’s death, not so much out of grief since whatever love had prompted him to marry her in the first place had long since died. Obsession with learning the truth about what had sent her over that cliff and ended her young life in such a tragic way had consumed his every waking moment and given him nightmares, leaving no room for any other emotion or interest. He still did and always would care about the girl he’d befriended in high school and who had been a part of his life in one fashion or another for the last twenty years.

  If nothing else, he owed it to Nicole to see whoever had hurt her paid for that sin, and he didn’t relish the surge of protectiveness toward Sophie distracting him from that goal when he’d caught her uncomfortable reaction to Ashe. Telling himself it was natural to come to the defense of an employee, especially a new one he wanted to hang onto for convenience sake, he went back to work and tried to put his irritation with his cousin for making her uncomfortable out of his mind.

  That lasted until he returned to the house that evening, and Ashe greeted him in the kitchen as if their earlier disagreement had never happened. Sitting at the table, halfway through a plate of creamy pasta, he gestured with his fork toward the casserole on the counter. “It’s still hot and damn good. She even has warm rolls and a salad.” He nodded to the bowl of leafy greens and cloth-covered basket in front of him. “You can join me if you can set aside your accusations long enough, or keep them to yourself.”

  “It would be easier if the other people in her life who claim to care so much would look closer at the suspicious circumstances of her fall,” he answered, his back to Ashe as he filled a plate. His stomach growled from both hunger and the enticing aroma.

  Ashe’s chair scraped on the floor a second before he unleashed his angry retort just when Jessie walked in. “Fuck you, Adrian. You continue to act as if none of us cared about Nicole as much as you.”

  “Shit, are we back to this again?” Jessie sighed, his eyes reflecting sadness instead of censure when he gazed at Adrian. “You’re making it harder for us to grieve and come to terms with her loss. Come on, you have to know none of us would harm a hair on any woman’s head.” He flashed his customary, teasing grin. “Unless, of course, we had her bound and she was begging for our hand, or belt, or the flogger, or…”

  Adrian held up his hand. “Got it, Shields.” Taking a seat, he lightened his tone to tell Ashe, “Sit down and finish dinner. It’s been a long day.”

  “Much better,” Jessie quipped as Ashe complied.

  Strolling over to the casserole, neither cousin thought anything of it when Jessie helped himself and joined them at the table. He’d been considered family for close to three decades now, with Wyatt getting as much welcome a few years after Jessie. The senior Coultranes had often expressed their pleasure in having their sons’ closest friends around and would joke they spent more time at the ranch than with their own families.

  “Yeah, well, as long as big cousin shuts up about one of us being responsible, we’ll get along just fine.” Ashe glowered at Adrian then slid his glance toward Jessie. “He’s pissed because I teased Sophie in the playroom and made her uncomfortable.”

  Jessie’s brows furrowed. “She wasn’t uncomfortable watching us yesterday. I wonder why a few pieces of equipment would bother her.” He scooped up a bite of chicken alfredo and hummed at the flavor. “Damn this is good. The girl can cook.” He groaned while still chewing.

  Jessie nailed, which was why he’d thought the worst seeing Sophie’s unease around Ashe, his first thought it was his cousin who bothered her, not the discovery of the apparatus in that room. He’d gotten good at shoving aside his suspicions for the sake of keeping the peace in the last eight months and did so now.

  “It seems so, yet she said it wasn’t her strong suit,” he commented after taking his own taste.

  “Where is she? You didn’t make her dine alone, did you?”

  The surprise in Jessie’s voice cut a slice of guilt through Adrian, although why, he couldn’t figure out. She was an employee, for one thing, and she stated she preferred being by herself during her off time, for another. He pictured her sitting in her room, coping with whatever devastating sorrow he’d glimpsed on her face. The urge to check on her didn’t sit well with him, so he ignored it and continued eating.

  “She told me she preferred keeping to herself when not working. Let’s leave it at that and pass me those rolls, will you?”

  Ashe handed him the basket. “She’s a city girl. What she’d think of the horses?”

  “She surprised me, showing no hesitation or fear to stroke them, as I expected both after she admitted she’s never ridden or been around horses.” Her awe of his equines had shown on her pleasure-filled face, her eyes losing the trace of sadness she couldn’t hide and likely assumed no one noticed. He admired her bravery and said as much. “Since she didn’t shy away from them, she ought to take to the saddle without much trouble. I told her to feel free to ask one of the hands to help her on her time off.”

  “I’ll do it,” Jessie jumped in to volunteer, followed by Ashe when he said, “One of us should, so I can carve out some time for her.”

  No. It took supreme effort on Adrian’s part to keep from snapping out his one-word answer to their suggestions. He couldn’t help himself; his suspicions of them, along with the others, were ingrained too deep to let go of even for this short conversation. He didn’t want any of them getting close to her, or getting her away alone, like on a ride. His distrust hurt him as much as it did them, but he couldn’t ignore the facts, or risk anyone else until he unearthed the truth.

  “Just because your place is closed on Sunday and Monday doesn’t mean you don’t have work on those days,” he told Jessie before addressing Ashe. “And now that we have a cattle herd, we have to be on top of preparations with winter coming on. Let the hands take turns with giving Sophie riding lessons, if she even wants them.”

  Adrian didn’t care for the small smirk Jessie sent him or the speculative look entering Ashe’s gaze as he rose and picked up his empty plate. “Don’t say it because you’re way off base,” he warned. “I’m not wanting the task myself.” Even if that idea was the first thing that popped into my head. “I’ll be in my office going over the sales contract for the McCrorys.”

  He started out but stopped when Nicole’s cat sauntered in and went straight over to Jessie to greet him by rubbing against his leg, arching her back, and purring. “When did Tink show up again?” he asked, reaching down to rub behind her ears.

  “I saw her this afternoon. Damn cat nearly bit me. Again.” Ashe glared at Tink as Jessie scooped her up.