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Gaze sharpening, he verbally pounced. “But you want me.”
“Well, of course I want you.” At his sudden wolfish grin she realized what she’d said. “I mean, I want your help. As you pointed out, we need help.”
“Help. Of course.”
She placed her hands on her hips, ready to annihilate him. “Look, you egotistical ass. I don’t deny that a few minutes ago, when you were…I might have become… ‘preoccupied’ with you—”
“Preoccupied?”
He gave her such an innocent look that she wanted to deck him. Instead she thrust the bundle of towels and sheets toward him. “Never mind. That’s not the point.”
“Pity,” he said with an elegant lift of his shoulders as he took the linens from her. “So what is the point?”
She inhaled, then exhaled, hoping to calm herself. “The point is my father’s getting older, and even before his recent accident, whether he admits it or not, it was getting tougher for him to work with the horses, not to mention the rest of the farm. And you may have noticed that Tater isn’t a babe in arms, either.”
Darcy turned aside, tossing the linens onto the bed. “I noticed that.”
“Then you can see what the problem is. It’s hard to get the regular work done, much less the training and the breeding we need to move forward with the horses we’ve still got. And make no mistake, Braybourne Farm still has what it takes. We might not have ended in the big money, but we’ve had winners, lots of them. And we’ve had them since the first Braybourne settled in Kentucky.” She lifted her chin. “We’ll have them again.”
Darcy turned back to her, his expression becoming serious. “You love this place, don’t you?”
“It means everything to me.”
“That’s nice.”
Taken aback, she stared at him. “What’s nice?”
“Caring that passionately about something.”
“Well, naturally. Why do anything if you’re not passionate about it?”
He smiled.
A few moments earlier that smile would have made her want to open to him as eagerly as a mare to a mate. Even now her impulse was to lead this man over to that bed so fast he’d be crying for mercy! Instead, she stepped back.
“Listen,” she said. “Just because you’re a passably good-looking man, don’t think I’m some little exercise girl who’d be impressed by that. Regardless of what you seem to think.”
“You’re not, huh?” His eyes held hers with a challenging gleam. “What if a time comes when I decide not to listen to you?”
“You—you…” Silver heard herself sputtering like a worn-out tractor. “You have no choice but to listen to me.”
“There’s always a choice. It’s just that sometimes there isn’t any maneuvering room.”
Silver lifted her chin and glared at him. “Well, you certainly aren’t going to maneuver me into something I don’t want to do.”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
She shook her finger under his nose. “You will not get around me with what you consider excess charm.”
“I don’t want to get around you.” He held her gaze. “What makes you think I don’t have another position in mind?”
“Why, you…how dare you!” Even as he enraged her, she felt the lick of excitement race along her nerve endings.
He grinned. “Are you afraid you might enjoy it?”
“The sheer arrogance of that remark makes me want to fire you on the spot.”
“I don’t think you can do that, Silver. Since your father hired me, I believe he’s actually the one to fire me.”
“I’ll speak to him about it.”
“And you’re going to tell him what? After all, nothing happened. It’s not as if I kissed you or anything.” He dropped his gaze to her mouth. “What would you have done if I’d kissed you?”
“Slapped you with a harassment suit.” Which was stretching the truth, but as usual when she was angry, she lashed out regardless.
“Theoretically speaking, what if I kissed you and you kissed me back—with a great deal of passion, of course?”
She couldn’t look at him. “I wouldn’t.” Another lie.
“Silver?”
She glanced back, practically mesmerized by his reproachful dark eyes. “Oh, all right, I’m human. Maybe I would kiss you back. I don’t know why, except…”
“Except?”
Reluctant to answer, she looked away again. She might not understand herself lately, but she certainly wasn’t about to open her heart and mind to a man who’d only butted into her life an hour before.
One finger under her chin turned her back to face him. “Except maybe now you’re wondering what it would be like to have an adventure? To make love with a stranger? Not the familiar young blueblood your father wants you to marry.”
“No. I’ve never…I’m not marrying him. That’s my father’s idea, not mine.” She scowled. “Why am I even having this conversation with you? This is none of your business.”
He smiled, as sweetly as the big bad wolf looking for a snack. “I don’t know. Why are you?”
“You started it with all your talk of flirting.” Love with a stranger. She tingled at the thought. What woman didn’t have a few fantasies—maybe of a chance encounter with a dark stranger, and steamy, uncomplicated sex? That didn’t mean she acted on them.
After a long, searching moment and an even more searching look, Darcy stepped away from her to indicate the pile of sheets and towels. “Thanks for bringing these down.”
“My pleasure.” She threw her shoulders back, adjusted her pearls and tugged down her jacket, attempting to restore herself to the elegant woman she’d tried to present when she first came into his room, which was pretty damn hard under the circumstances. “I have to go.”
Darcy walked over and opened the door.
Silver walked past him, then stopped. “Oh, by the way, my mother asked me to invite you up to the house for dinner if you don’t have other plans.”
“I hope she isn’t going to any trouble.”
“No. There’s always plenty for one more. Mother’s used to cooking for a big family and can’t seem to stop.”
He hesitated, staring at Silver for a moment. “In that case, I’d be delighted.”
“I’ll pass that along. I, um…okay, I’ll see you.” Feeling awkward, she stood there for a moment, then turned and stepped away.
“Silver?”
“Yes?” She glanced over her shoulder. Darcy stood in the doorway, shoulder leaning against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets. He was an animal in his prime, confident and seemingly at ease with the world and his place in it.
“What time?”
Her mind went blank as her eyes feasted on his chest. “Time?”
“For dinner.”
She met his gaze, noticing the devils dancing there, tempting her closer, beckoning her. “Seven.” Then Silver nodded and got out of there as fast as she could without looking as if she was running for her life.
Rick Darcy. She stared at the dusty black pickup parked outside the stables. Where had he come from? Her father had told her a bit about him, but not much. Why didn’t her father realize that managing Braybourne Farm was all she’d ever wanted to do? Since she was a little girl, she’d dreamed of what she would do when the farm was hers.
She turned from the pickup and stared at her home. She’d gone to the University of Kentucky, not far from here, and done the things expected of her—studied hard, joined a sorority, cheered the Wildcats on to victory, met the right people, then later got socially involved in the surrounding community—all in an effort to show her father how perfectly she would perform as the head of Braybourne Farm, given the chance. When her brother Brett had left a year ago she’d felt it was her time. Or so it had seemed. Her father had started turning to her more and more to talk over decisions. Silver felt as if she was making great strides. Until Harden fell from the horse and had decided to settle her future.
Settle her future! For God’s sake, she was only twenty-six, but to hear her father tell it, she was well on her way to mummification.
And now there was Rick Darcy.
She glanced over her shoulder at the dusty truck, imagining him behind the wheel, the image so strong that she shook her head. Not that Daddy would ever encourage her to look seriously at him—he was rather feudal on some issues, and breeding and family lineage were among them. She could respect his views because he was her father, even as she disagreed with the principles behind them. But her own inclinations might be the real problem, she thought. She hadn’t the vaguest idea why she was responding to Darcy so immediately and strongly, but she was. Maybe it was because she sensed he was different, much different from the men she knew. At her first sight of him standing in their barn this afternoon, feet planted as if he owned the place, he’d immediately gotten her back up. The fact that he had the hot come-and-get-me-or-it’s-your-loss-baby type of good looks was as annoying as it was enticing.
Swearing under her breath, she headed toward the fence that separated the drive from the landscaped grounds around the house, then stalked up the flagstone path. At least she’d recovered her cool enough at the end of their encounter to give Rick Darcy a good warning. He’d know better than to mess with her from now on. She kicked at a clump of dirt, muttering, “Why did Daddy have to hire him, anyway?”
With a frustrated huff, she stopped to cool off near one of the old, towering oaks that shaded the house. She had the unnerving feeling that things were spiraling out of her control. She didn’t like that. Regardless of how she often chafed at the restraints of tradition, she liked making plans and knowing where she was going and when she expected to get there. But now, as she looked at her home, she felt an element of uncertainty, of expectation. It no longer seemed a safe haven—not since Darcy had arrived on the scene. She rubbed the area between her brows, trying to erase the tension that had collected there. There was no reason for her to get bent out of shape. Her father had reassured her that the man was temporary, just until Harden’s health improved. But Silver had doubts that her father would ever return to his former capability, which made someone like Darcy even more of a threat. The thought saddened her. Her daddy had been such a big, marvelous presence in her life for so long. It was difficult to watch age creeping up on him, even though the process had been very gradual until this recent accident. His strength of will might still be powerful, but his body was beginning to decline.
She leaned back against the tree trunk. For the first time she looked at her childhood home and wondered if she was strong enough not only to save it, but to bring it to the glory she imagined. Suddenly, doubt crept in where previously there had been only confidence—thanks to a man with raven coloring and a bold, marauding attitude.
Silver sighed. Memories rushed through her mind as she studied the place. It was a clapboard ranch house that had been added to over the years. It wasn’t an architectural gem, but it was home—and had been since Cecil Braybourne settled in the area and decided to build a shack and put down roots. The roots had grown with each generation, until the entire farm seemed to be embraced into the landscape.
As she stared, her mother came out of the front door onto the broad front porch. She had a colander in one hand, a saucepan in the other and a dish towel slung over her shoulder. Silver smiled affectionately. Her mama was as small and seemingly delicate as her father was large and outspoken. To the outside world, Agatha Sweet Braybourne might have seemed a pushover with her polite manners and soft-spoken voice, but Silver knew better, as did her friends. Aggie, as Silver’s father called her, was as malleable as a hunk of diamond. Silver felt the power of her mother’s personality when Aggie walked to the edge of the porch and looked across the yard at her.
“Well, young lady, are you planning to become part of that tree or just hold it up?”
Silver automatically straightened from her slouch. “Neither one, ma’am—just thinking for a minute.”
“Well, come over here and help me snap these green beans while you think.”
“Okay.” Silver strolled up the path and climbed the steps, walking over to the porch swing. She joined her mother, who immediately set the saucepan in Silver’s lap and placed the colander in her own. Silver grabbed a handful of beans and started snapping. For a moment they sat and rocked gently, saying nothing, listening to the sleepy sounds of a late summer afternoon in the country.
Silver began to relax as her fingers performed the familiar homey chore. “Mama…”
“Hmm?”
“How did you first meet Daddy?”
Aggie grinned. “I accidentally crowned him with a baseball.”
“What? I didn’t know you played baseball.” Somehow she couldn’t picture her mother with a baseball bat. She was more the horse and tennis type.
“I didn’t. Harden was eleven years old and so full of himself that my little eight-year-old self just couldn’t stand it. We were at school and he was playing baseball with some friends. The ball had rolled off the field and over to where I was watching. He pointed at the ball and said, ‘Hey, throw it back, you dumb girl.’ Showing off for his friends, you know. So I picked up that ball and threw it as hard as I could.” Aggie laughed. “Well, I had more strength than aim. That ball took off like a bullet. Unfortunately, it slammed right into his forehead instead of his hand. He went down like an old oak.”
Staring at her mother in amazement, Silver gasped. “My God, Mama, what did you do?”
“I sent one of his friends for the teacher and sat down beside him and pulled his head into my lap. He had a knot already starting to swell. So I smoothed back his hair, kissed his cheek and told him he’d better not die on me ’cause he had to marry me when we grew up.”
Silver blinked and snapped another bean. “Was he conscious? What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Over my dead body, you dumb girl.’ And I said, ‘If that’s what it takes, Harden Braybourne, consider it done.”’
“And Daddy just went along with this?”
Aggie smiled that secretive smile that only another woman can really recognize and understand. “Now, Silver, when did you ever know your daddy to go along with someone else’s idea? It took me twelve years to convince him that it was his idea in the first place.”
Silver laughed. “How’d you know Daddy was the one for you?”
Aggie shrugged. “Sometimes you just know, honey.”
Silver thought about that for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“Well, I did, so I have no reason to think otherwise. Why are you asking?”
To avoid her mother’s searching gaze, Silver looked down at the growing pile of green beans in the saucepan. “No reason, just curious.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with John Tom Thomas, would it?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because I know how much your father would love to see you settled, and I know how much John Tom would love to have it be with him.”
Silver glanced up. “How do you know that? Did John Tom say something to you?”
Her mother handed her another pile of beans. “The man announced to everyone that you are his next fence to jump. And he has no intention of taking a spill.”
Silver winced. “Surely he put it more romantically than that, Mama.”
Aggie chuckled. “’Fraid not, honey girl.”
“Oh, Lord. Where did he announce this?”
“At the club the other night, when you were helping Aunt Violet out to the car.” Aggie sighed. “I wish that woman would switch to another drink and stay away from the mint juleps. They just don’t agree with her.”
Giving her mother a dry look, Silver commented, “She says the mint settles her tummy.”
“Well, mint is good for that,” her mother agreed, eyes twinkling. “It’s the alcohol that upsets it.”
Silver indicated the stable. “Remember that horse we had who raided the herb bed and ate all the mint one year?”
