Page 10 of Swallow Your Fear
“What’d I say the other night?”
She laughed, the sound dry, yet it pulled at me all the same. “I amnotcalling you Nightmare.”
I shrugged. I didn’t want her to, but it did me well seeing her irritated. “Then call me nothin’.”
I looped the reins over Onyx’s head, leading him into the barn, but she apparently wasn’t done.
“Why’d you fix my tire?” she called behind me.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said over my shoulder. I didn’t need to admit that it was me who took the time to swap the tire. She could consider it a good deed from a bystander, for all I cared. I only did it so she had a way to get here, should she choose that route. If she hadn’t, I probably would have just gone straight to the source to get the deed back. But now that she was here, I supposed I could have some fun.
“Sorry about him,” Austin said from outside the barn door, his voice echoing down the aisle.
Ever the gentleman, that Austin. The girls fell for him left and right, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Brynne landed in his trap. I couldn’t care less if she did, but she wouldn’t be staying on this ranch once we got the deed back. That was my only goal, and then all distractions would be gone.
Because I had a feeling if she stayed, she’d be nothing but trouble.
Chapter 6
Brynne
Ithought the house looked grand from the outside, but the interior put it to shame. Rich brown leather covered every stool, chair, and sofa, with a massive rug taking up the entirety of the vaulted-ceiling living room. A larger-than-I-thought-possible TV was mounted on the wall, right below a moose head. Again, I didn’t think the size of it was realistic.
“His dad’s prized possession.” Henley came down the stairs, still wearing that tan, felt cowboy hat, the brim higher on his forehead now. His close-cropped hair was nearly nonexistent under his hat, along with his striking green eyes. “Or, was,” he corrected.
“He passed away?” I asked, noticing my bags were nowhere in sight.
Henley dipped his chin in a nod.
“I got to get back out there,” he said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the front door.
“Which roomis mine?”
He grabbed the handle, opening the heavy door. “Upstairs, last room on the left.”
As soon as he shut it, the house was gratingly silent, my ears ringing.
Rather than head upstairs, I figured I’d look around to get accustomed to the place I’d be staying in for the foreseeable future. The house was void of all color aside from various shades of brown. No wonder the man was a grouch. He didn’t know how to decorate.
The key to a happy mind was to surround yourself with things you loved, and the mood this house put me in told me enough.
I trailed my finger along a thin, long oak table, not a speck of dust to be found. So he was a neat freak, too.
At the end of the wide hallway was the kitchen. The dark oak cabinets and black granite countertops didn’t surprise me one bit. Even the fridge was disguised with massive oak doors, blending in seamlessly.
On the opposite side of the kitchen sat what looked to be an office, and an idea sparked with the sight of paperwork sitting neatly atop the desk.
If he wouldn’t tell me his name, I’d just have to figure it out myself.
Glancing out the large floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw the three of them still out by the barn, hosing the horses off. Surely, that’d keep them busy long enough for me to snoop.
The office had no doors, so I slipped in. At least if they did find me, I didn’t have to explain why I’d gone in a closed room. It was wide open, practically inviting me in itself.
Tall mahogany bookshelves lined one side of the room,and with a glance at the wide windows that spanned the other side, I crouched to try to keep myself hidden from view in case they looked this way. Making it to the desk, I scanned the script on the papers, but it was just a bunch of instruction manuals for various tools and appliances. I thumbed through the stack, finding nothing of use.
Opting to dig deeper rather than leave it be, I opened one of the drawers, shuffling through the files crammed inside. Each paper held tiny script, and my eyes strained to make out any names that might pop out to me as the words jumbled together.
Why didn’t he want me to know his name?
