Page 11 of Demons

“Um, uh …” I wasn’t sure how to answer this. Thatcher hadn’t said a word to me. He never did. “Fine. I mean, we don’t actually talk.”

King appeared almost annoyed. “Is that so?”

Why did that bother him, or was I reading him wrong? Or maybe Thatcher was going to say something to me about JB quitting, and he hadn’t yet. Was King upset with me? If I were the reason JB had left, then I really hoped Thatcher wasn’t the one they sent to talk to me about it. If he corrected me about flirting with their employees, I might not recover from that. I couldn’t even flirt with normal men correctly. Normal meaning those who didn’t go to church and I hadn’t been forced to interact with most of my life. I was going to die a spinster—or even worse, a virgin spinster.

Maybe Thatcher wouldn’t say anything to me about it. Other than slamming Storm against the stables for snapping at me a few weeks ago, Thatcher didn’t acknowledge me. Our strange, brief interactions had stopped about seven years ago. Now, they often felt like I’d made them up in my head. Which I hadn’t because even then, I’d be shocked when he randomly showed up when I needed someone to talk to or the times I needed help. Whatever I had been upset about, he’d managed to always lift my mood just by talking to me.

Thatcher slowed as he and Zephyr approached the fence. His eyes were locked on King though. He’d yet to even glance in my direction, and I would know because I was incapable of looking anywhere else when he was present. It was as if I needed to soak him in before he left again. Completely creepy of me, and I’d never admit it to a soul.

“Everything good?” he asked King.

King nodded his head. “Yeah, just talking to Capri here about you deciding she was going to ride Zephyr in the Breeders’.”

Wait, what?! Thatcher was the one who had decided I would ride Zephyr?

A warm, tingly thing that was a level higher than joy spread through me as I stared up at him. His eyes flicked over to me fleetingly before he stared down at King. His lips were in a hard line that took a little of that warmth away. Had he changed his mind already? Before I’d gotten a chance to even ride Zephyr.

“Don’t you need to go check on your wife and kid?” he asked King.

A rumble that sounded almost like a chuckle came from King. “Reckon I do,” he replied. “Thanks for the concern.”

The threatening gleam in Thatcher’s eyes made me shiver. King, however, didn’t seem at all fazed by it.

He turned to look at me. “You and Bloodline looked good out there today,” he said, then gave me a nod before walking back toward the stables.

I’d watched Christopher take Bloodline around the track a few times, and then Miller sent me in to take his place. It had been our best time yet, but Miller had barely made eye contact with me after.

I turned my attention back to Thatcher to find his gaze locked on me. I swallowed hard, thinking perhaps I should have gone with King. Thatcher was clearly angry about something, and I didn’t want his anger to be directed at me. I’d seen him lose his temper. If he was about to tell me JB had quit because I’d been making him uncomfortable with my attention, I was going to crawl in a hole and never come out again. Not even for the Breeders’ Cup.

“You think you can handle the Breeders’?” he asked me then, his expression easing some.

He looked less threatening now. Almost friendly. Maybe.

Relief flooded me. No talk of JB.

I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

He studied me. Those dark eyes of his made it hard to take a deep breath. I had never felt more exposed in my life. It was as if he could read my innermost thoughts, and those were some no one needed to get ahold of.

“Tomorrow,” he said finally, “I’ll have you take him out.”

He was going to let me get on Zephyr tomorrow. King had said I needed to focus on Bloodline, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Thatcher was a Shephard, and it seemed like he made the decisions around here. I’d assumed it was Stellan, but the way King had spoken, it seemed as if it was Thatcher calling the shots.

“Okay,” I replied.

He didn’t say anything more before turning Zephyr and riding off. I watched him for a few more moments before forcing myself to stop.

I needed to go get groceries before I went home. I had three hours to get that done, get a shower, and head to the homeless shelter to help serve dinner.

• Five •

“I’ve heard rumors they’re, like, the Mafia or something.”

Capri

Nine Years Ago

Getting a job that was outside of the church had been a battle with my parents. Mostly my mother. She preferred I spend all my time doing volunteer work. I enjoyed helping serve meals at the homeless shelter and reading to the residents at the nursing home. I was going to continue doing those things. What I wasn’t going to do was head up the VBS team, teach Sunday School to wild toddlers or anyone else for that matter, clean the church, and serve food to the women’s group that my mother led on Tuesday nights.

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