felt warm on his back and shoulders.
Simply watching Nita was a treat in itself. She had a way with the big graceful animals, some kind of second sense. She could anticipate the horses every move, every thought. It was obvious she really loved what she did, loved them, and the feeling was most definitely mutual.
It was all he needed to see to convince him there was no way she would ever do anything to hurt her animals. The poisoned feed, the holes—there was no way she could have done it herself. She just wasn’t capable.
“When you approach a horse, especially in the corral, you never do it from behind,” Nita said. “Horses have a blind spot and they get startled easily. Make sure she can see you. And approach from the left if you can.”
“Why the left?” he asked.
“Because that’s the side they’re used to being handled on. Although Buttercup here is a big cream puff. It would take an awful lot to spook her. Isn’t that right girl,” Nita crooned, stroking the mare’s neck. As if answering her, the mare lowered her big head and nudged Nita’s shoulder.
“It’s all about respect,” she told him. “If you respect them, they’ll respect you.”
“You make it look so easy.”
“Believe me, it’s not always like this. I may not have bullet holes in me, but I’ve been bitten, kicked, thrown from the saddle and stomped on more times than I can count. I like the challenge.” She stroked the horse’s neck, affection in her eyes. “Not that I don’t appreciate a horse like Buttercup every now and then.”
“Is she yours?”
“She belongs to a family in Fort Worth. I’m training her for their daughter. I’ll miss her, though. She’s a real sweetheart.”
“How long do you usually have a horse you’re training?”
“It could take a month, sometimes two. Sometimes even longer. It just depends on what they’ll be using the horse for, and how it takes to the training.” She looked over at him. “You sure this isn’t boring you to tears?”
He was finding it all quite interesting. Horse farming had never been something he imagined himself enjoying. The truth was, he never much considered anything but his chosen course, first with the army, then taking his father’s place at the engineering firm, though technically speaking, that hadn’t been chosen by him. He followed in his father’s footsteps because that’s what had been expected of him. To make up where his rebellious twin brother lacked.
Not that his father ever noticed.
“I’m sure,” he told Nita.
She shrugged. “Okay. I guess we’re about done here.”
She called to one of the hands and instructed the young man to take Buttercup and set her out to pasture with the other horses, then she and Connor walked toward the stable together.
“We need to talk about security for the house and the stables,” he said.
“What kind of security?”
“An alarm to start.”
She frowned up at him. “You really think that’s necessary?”
“I do. Clint Andover, another member of the Cattleman’s Club, is a security expert. I’d like to have him out to evaluate the property and tell you exactly what you would need.”
She took off her hat and drew a sleeve across her forehead. “An alarm sounds expensive.”
“I’m not going to lie to you. It probably will be.”
“Connor, I can’t—”
“Don’t worry Nita, we’ll figure something out.”
Up went the chin. “I’m not a charity case.”
“I’m not suggesting you are. I was thinking maybe you could set up some sort of deferred payment plan.”
Meaning, he could pay Clint and when Nita made payments to Clint, he would divert the money back to Connor. It was the only way they could make it work, because he knew she would never take money from him.
It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it. He lived a pretty simple life. Being in the Rangers meant active service, and missions all over the world at a moment’s notice. He could be gone for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. The less complicated his life, the better. No houseplants to water, no pets to board, no significant other left behind to wonder if he would return home in a pine box. And he’d grown so used to living that way, it was permanently ingrained in his personality. He had more money than he would ever spend sitting around gaining interest. It seemed a waste not to use it on something.
“I don’t like the idea of owing anyone money,” Nita said.
“At least let me call him and see what he has to say. It’s worth the safety of the people and the animals here. And it could be good for business.”
She looked up at him, squinting against the afternoon sun. Even with her eyes half-closed they were the brightest he’d ever seen. “How do you figure?”
“If you can advertise that you have a state-of-the-art security system, that would eliminate the threat of having the horses harmed. You could very well get back the business you lost.”
Nita shook her head, her mouth in a grim line.
“What’s the matter?”
“This is so wrong. Five years ago, we would have never even considered needing an alarm to keep the animals safe. It’s the Devlins doing this.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
Nothing he said, no argument he could make, would convince her otherwise. “At least try to keep an open mind until we get some proof.”
“And when is that going to happen? It feels like all we’re doing now is sitting around waiting for the next attack.”
“People are working on it.”
“The Cattleman’s Club,” she said, and he only looked at her.
“Should I make the call?”
She hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “What the heck. I guess it can’t hurt to hear what the man has to say.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. When Clint’s secretary answered, she told him Clint would be out of town a couple of days, but would get back to Connor as soon as possible.
He relayed the message to Nita. “I’ll let you know when he calls me.”
They continued toward the stable when Nita heard a car engine, and turned to see a dark BMW pulling up the driveway.
“Who is that?” Connor asked, stepping slightly in front of her, something she was sure he did automatically, from being in the military.
“That would be Gretchen Halifax.”
“Gretchen Halifax? What does she want?”
It was pretty obvious Connor didn’t like the woman, not a big surprise considering she was running against his brother for mayor. “Probably to see her horse. We board him for her.”
“That bitch-on-wheels has a horse? What for?”
“How should I know? It’s business. She’s one of the few boarders I have who didn’t pull out after the feed was poisoned. I may not like her, either, but her money is as good as anyone else’s.”
Gretchen parked close to the house and got out of her car. She was dressed in a business suit and high-heeled pumps, and her hair was professionally sculpted into an indestructible shell. The woman reeked of old money. “Hello, Nita,” she called.
“Hello, Gretchen.” Nita walked