Carol Ericson

Enemy Infiltration


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been here two years on your own. You’re lucky. You must like it to have stayed on.”

      A muscle twitched in her jaw, and she rubbed it away. “It’s a job and I need a job. I’m sending money to my mom in Mexico, so she can take care of abuelita.”

      “You’re saying you don’t like it?”

      “I like the horses.” She put a finger to her lips as they rounded the corner of the yellow house.

      She climbed the two steps to the porch, and the familiar butterflies swirled around her stomach as she jabbed her knuckle against the doorbell.

      The bell rang deep in the house, and Lana squared her shoulders and shoved her hands in her pockets, knowing Bruce was peering at her through the peephole, or soon would be.

      Seconds later, the door swung open and Bruce’s big frame filled the doorway. His face broke into a grin. “Lana-Madonna, what brings you to my castle? You must…”

      His words trailed off as the step behind Lana squeaked and Logan hovered behind her.

      “Bruce, this is Logan Hess. Logan, Bruce McGowan.”

      As Bruce lurched past her to grab Logan’s hand, his shoulder brushed hers.

      “Nice to meet you, Logan. Friend of our little horse trainer?”

      Lana held her breath as Logan seemed to suck in his with a sharp breath.

      “Yeah.” Logan dropped his hand from Bruce’s and placed it on the small of her back.

      Bruce’s gaze flicked to the gesture, and then the smile, a bit stiffer this time, returned to his face. “What can I do you for on this fine winter afternoon?”

      “I received a delivery today—a box—and I was wondering if by any chance there was a second box delivered here by mistake.”

      “Those mail people—give them one job to do and you’d think they could do it right instead of screwing it up all the time.” Bruce glanced at Logan and shrugged. “They’re always delivering Lana’s mail up here to the big house.”

      “Yeah, funny how that works though. I never seem to get your mail. Anyway, did you get a box delivered?”

      “Nope.”

      “Did you pick up the mail or did Dale? Where is Dale?”

      “She’s upstairs…resting.” Bruce’s jawline hardened. “Dale didn’t pick up the mail. She’s pretty much been…resting since she took the kids to school—and they’re still there in case you’re wondering.”

      “I figured that.” The butterflies returned and she pressed a hand against her belly. “You’ll let me know if you get something of mine.”

      “Always, Lana. Anytime you need anything from me, well almost anything, my door’s always open.” Bruce winked.

      Logan’s body, just behind hers, tensed, his fingers curling into her hip.

      Bruce stepped back inside the house as his face momentarily lost its ruddy color. “Nice to meet you, Logan. Any friend of Lana’s is a friend of ours. You have a good day now.”

      He practically slammed the door in their faces, and Lana released a pent-up breath.

      She pivoted on the porch and marched to her house with Logan hot on her heels, but silent.

      When they reached her porch, he grabbed her arm. “What the hell was that all about? Who does that guy think he is? He’s lucky he still has his front teeth after the way he talked to you. Our little horse trainer? I’m surprised you didn’t smack him after that one.”

      “He’s my employer.” She lifted a shoulder. “And my landlord. He and Dale let me live here for free. It was an arrangement his father had with mine, but I’m sure Bruce could end that arrangement anytime he wanted, especially since he’s selling off most of his horses.”

      “He clearly doesn’t want to end the arrangement. He likes having you at his beck and call, doesn’t he?”

      “You caught that, huh?” She dragged her lower lip between her teeth. She would hate for Logan to believe she and Bruce had anything between them—like the ranching community here believed.

      “It’s just as clear to me that you don’t want to be here. So why not move? Find another job?”

      She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s not that easy to find a job as a horse trainer, Logan, and free rent? Impossible. I have an advantageous setup here and putting up with Bruce once in a while is worth it.”

      And worth it for the other big perk.

      Logan narrowed his eyes. “What does putting up with Bruce once in a while entail? Does he steal your mail?”

      “That’s one of the little games he plays with me.” Lana sank to the top step and curled an arm around the wooden banister post. “He takes pieces of my mail, claiming it was a mistake on the part of the mail person, and then lets me know he has them to force me to go up to the big house.”

      “Tell him to put the mail back in your mailbox.” Logan took a seat beside her on the porch, his shoulder bumping hers, which caused a completely different feeling to surge through her body from the one occasioned by Bruce doing the same thing.

      “He always has an excuse why he can’t do that. Bottom line—if I want my mail, I have to get it from him.”

      “He sounds like an ass. He is an ass and needs his kicked.”

      Lana’s lips curved into a smile. “I’d like to see that, but for now I just avoid him as much as possible.”

      “Do you believe he doesn’t have a second box of Gil’s?”

      “I’m not sure if I do or not. Your presence threw him for a loop. It wouldn’t be any fun for him to invite me in and give me the box if you were by my side. That’s something he’d prefer to do without an audience.”

      Logan’s eyebrows collided over his nose. “Has he ever gotten physical with you? Do you have anything to fear from him other than his slimy words and manner?”

      Lana ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, the sour taste almost gagging her. “Only one time.”

      “What did he do?” Logan’s body vibrated beside hers as if he were ready to take on Bruce right here and now.

      “He…he put his hands around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss.” She rolled her lips inward at the memory and put her hand over her mouth.

      “Bastard. Did you slug him?”

      “I was too shocked to react quickly enough. I did push him away and told him I’d report him to Dale if he ever tried that again.”

      “What did he do?”

      “Laughed, but he never tried it again.”

      “Yet.” Logan kicked at a rock with the toe of his boot. “What’s the story with his wife and why is she resting?”

      “Dale’s an alcoholic. They have…two adorable kids, but Dale spends most of her time hitting the bottle and partying with her friends.” She pinned her hands between her knees and tapped her boots together. “Honestly, I don’t think she cares what Bruce does. I’m pretty sure she has an affair or two under her belt.”

      “So to speak.” Logan smirked. “Doesn’t sound like you have much leverage with the wife.”

      “Yeah, except Bruce doesn’t want to give Dale any excuse for a divorce. They don’t have a prenup and Bruce stands to lose a lot—half of everything—in a divorce. That’s why he puts up with her behavior, too.”

      “Sounds like a great marriage, a match made in hell, but I don’t give a damn about Bruce or Dale or their hellish