Page 56 of Wyoming True

AFTERMAUDELEFT, Jake retired to his study to look over the newest computer records on his purebred herd. His mind wasn’t really on it, however. It was on his houseguest. He didn’t trust her, not just yet, but was drawn to her in ways he didn’t want to be drawn. She was an unknown quantity. He was trying to get over Mina. This was a bad time to ricochet to another woman. Especially one who was as fragile as Ida seemed to be.

HEPHONEDTHEman he’d sent over to Ida’s place to monitor her remaining horses.

“Hey, Bob,” he said pleasantly. “How’s it going?”

“Fine, boss,” came the reply. “I rigged up some sensors in the stable and put surveillance cameras around the place, like you told me to. Sheriff’s investigator came by a few minutes ago with the same question you just asked. I told him you’d taken Mrs. Merridan over to your place.”

Jake muffled a satisfied laugh. “She’s asleep. She loves that cat. Vet says it will be all right with time and care.”

“Takes a mean person to hurt a cat that way. Or especially horses,” he added angrily.

“Yes, it does. Which is why you’re over there and she’s over here. Still packing that shotgun?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bob replied. “I’ve got birdshot for warnings and double-aught buckshot for serious intruders.”

Jake chuckled. “Nasty stuff, birdshot.”

“Try rock salt,” Bob replied in a drawl. “I was cow-tipping at a neighbor’s in my late teens and caught a load to my backside. Hurt almost as much as my dad’s belt when he found out from the rancher what I’d been doing. And on top of that, Mom had to pick the salt out of my hide.”

“Ah, childhood,” Jake replied on a laugh. “Such sweet memories.”

“Those weren’t sweet, boss,” came the amused reply.

“Never ceases to amaze me, people talking about how wonderful childhood was,” Jake sighed. “Mine wasn’t that great, either.”

“Nobody’s was,” Bob returned. “I think it’s all fantasy myself, something to make your own kids think they should behave better, so they can have a similar childhood.”

“You lucky devil. You’ve got three.”

“Lucy and I love every one of them, too,” Bob said. “Why don’t you get married and have some of your own? You’re not getting any younger.”

“I am so,” Jake said with mock haughtiness. “I’m taking courses in how to live forever, but I won’t share them if you harp on my age.”

Bob chuckled.

“Keep your eyes open. If there’s any trouble, call the sheriff first and then me, okay?”

“Will do.”

HEPUTTHEphone down. Did Ida’s ex-husband know that his troublemaker had run for the hills? Was he discouraged by the advent of lawmen after the cat was hurt? Or was he just biding his time, waiting to add something more traumatic to the mix than hurting Ida’s horses and her cat? It was worrying.

While he sat at his desk, thinking about it, he heard movement in the hall. He went out to see what it was.

Ida stopped in her tracks. “Did I disturb you? Sorry. I wanted to see if there was any coffee. Your housekeeper said she’d leave a pot heating in the kitchen. I must have dozed off.”

“You needed the rest, I imagine,” he said, smiling. “I’d like a cup myself. Come on.”

He led the way into the kitchen, noting that she was walking a little better. She was wearing jeans with a long-sleeved blue sweater that almost matched the color of her eyes. Her feet were in slippers. “Pain easing up?” he asked.

She nodded. “It fluctuates,” she said. “I have post-traumatic arthritis in my hip from the injuries. They did a partial hip replacement, and they had to wire my femur back in place and almost rebuild it. Hence the rod and pins.” She sighed. “I’m lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“You said you had damaged vertebrae, as well,” he recalled.

“Two, in my lower spine. They repaired those.” She laughed softly. “Of course, I have issues in my back, too.” She shook her head. “All my own fault, I guess. I should have known that Bailey was too good to be true. But I was so stupid about men.”

“You didn’t go out with anyone while you were in college?” he asked idly as he poured the warming coffee into two mugs.

“I was married,” she said with a quizzical glance.

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