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had.

Chapter Five

    I pulled my clanking Jeep to a dusty stop half-way between the front veranda of a big, white-clapboard farm house and a oncered barn now streaked liberally with the grey of exposed wood. A glance down at the paper with the map scrawled across it told me this had to be the place, if Matt had given me accurate directions. An air of lazy forgetfulness hung over the premises, adding its weight to that of the heavy bank of clouds scudding in from the west. Dust settled in a thin layer over the Jeep as I gazed around. The place had seen a heyday, but this wasn’t it. The house had a fresh coat of paint, and the barn’s tin roof looked newish, but the equipment just inside the big building wasn’t the latest, and the grounds had that slightly neglected look which said whoever had once tended the flower garden was gone.
    I clicked open my seat belt, hopped down and wandered over to pick the spent day lilies off their stalks.
    “Can I help you?” A deep voice shot a shiver down my spine and I whirled, fist closing tight around the wilted blooms.
    Calm the fuck down.
    The guy who’d addressed me was tall. A good head taller than me and broader in his shoulders. He walked with the swagger of someone who rode a lot of horses. A grease-covered rag did dubious cleaning duty as he wiped his hands with it, and he approached with an air of belligerent wariness. From the glimpse of bangs visible across his forehead, it looked like he had a lot of black curls hiding under his generous Stetson, and at ten in the morning, his five o’clock shadow had made a distinctly early appearance. Deep blue eyes flickered as his gaze raked over me, giving away nothing of what he thought about what he saw.
    Reflexively, I ran a hand over my own smooth jaw, immediately and intensely aware of how that stubble would feel against my skin.
    Yes. Good. Start out the job interview with this hard-ass with a stiffy. Perfect. Because he just looks the type to bend you over the hood and bang you. So not.
    The guy crossed his arms over his chest, the movement slow, deliberate. His eyes went a shade darker. “I’ve got work, kid. You want something?”
    Oh God, yes.
    “A job,” I blurted, silently damning my blond pink-skinned complexion for showing my blush.
    The guy shook his head and lowered his intense gaze to the ground. “Sorry, kid. Unless you work for free—”
    “Room and board.”
    Form a complete sentence, idiot.
    A newly speculative look came over the big man’s face. “You runnin’ from somethin’?”
    Fair question. If you considered threats of violence involving my ass and a heated branding iron something, the yes, most definitely on the run.
    “No. Just looking for work. I heard at the diner in town you could use some help with some fence mending.”
    “Among other things. Matt, from the diner. Keeps sending people down here. I’m warnin’ ya now, though. I ain’t got more ‘n three hot meals a day and a bed to pay ya.”
    I’ll take the bed, thanks.
    “All I need.”
    Finally, the arms uncrossed and the man stepped forwards, arm outstretched. “James Travis.”
    I took the offered hand in a firm grip. “Taylor Anderson. Thanks for this. You won’t regret it.” I handed him the slip of paper on which ‘Matt from the diner’ had written a short note to this prospective employer that he knew my father and would vouch for me.
    Travis read the note and gave me curt nod. “Course I won’t regret it. Screw up and I fire ya.” He shrugged one shoulder and my mouth watered at the way his tight T-shirt didn’t hide the ripple of muscle. “Nothing to regret.”
    Right.
    “You can park over there.” He waved an arm towards a shaded area of drive beside the barn as he turned to head back inside.
    “Sure, Mr. Travis.”
    “Shit, kid, call me Jim.” He shot a swift glance at the house, then looked back to me. “Mr. Travis is my father.”
    I quickly moved the Jeep, hauled my rucksack out of the back and