far more wild mustang than refined thoroughbred. Complex creature, indeed. “But, even so, they’re easier to figure out than people.” She hadn’t meant to give voice to that last part and braced herself as he swung his gaze back to hers.
“I’ll agree with you there,” he said, looking directly at her again. “People are easily the most complex creatures on the planet.”
Her body tightened under his steady regard. Intense was an understatement with him. Even up close, his eyes were midnight black, with a laser-like intensity that bore into hers in a way she’d never encountered before. She’d definitely be wise never to underestimate him, in or out of his element.
“No matter how long you know somebody, you never truly know it all,” he finished.
“No,” she said, damning the tight note in her voice. Just as with the four-legged animals she trained, the first rule with any animal was show no fear. But the second rule was show no overt aggression. A delicate balance at times. So she let her gaze casually, or what she hoped was casually, drift out toward the surrounding paddock, breaking his visual hold on her. Or at least hers on him. “I don’t imagine you ever really do.” Something she fervently prayed held true for her where he, or anyone else at Dalton Downs, was concerned.
And then it occurred to her…was that why he was out here? Had he, or someone here, managed to find out something more about her past? Wouldn’t Kate have confronted her directly, though? She wasn’t sure how the hierarchy worked here with Trinity and Kate’s separate enterprise, but Kate didn’t strike her as the type to let someone else handle her personal business, much less dictate her hiring practices.
“But I came out here to talk to you about horses, not people.”
She tried not to slump in relief. “I’ll be glad to help you in any way that I can.”
She glanced at him in time to see him set his jaw a little. As if he wasn’t quite sure how to broach what he wanted to say next. Nerves? She wondered what on earth a man like him could have to be nervous about. Couldn’t be her. She was quite comfortable in her own skin, and made no apologies for her lack of feminine wiles, but she was also well aware that nerve-inducing she was not.
“Good,” he said, then shifted his weight a little before continuing. “You can teach someone to ride, can’t you?”
“I—I suppose I could. If it’s just the basics you want, I can probably handle that.” Though any of Kate’s instructors would be better suited. Of course, maybe he didn’t want to ask a favor of them. She was the new hire, after all. “Can I ask why you’ve decided to take lessons?” She knew Mac and Finn both rode, as she’d seen the two of them, and Kate, head out before. She assumed, with his constant attention on her and the stables, that he rode, too, but apparently not.
“I never had the chance to spend much time around horses growing up. None, actually, if you don’t count summer camp. I figure it’s time I changed that.”
It struck her then, as she finally calmed down enough to look at the situation, and him, more objectively, that for all his apparent interest…he wasn’t exactly really enthusiastic about this whole idea. “Is it…job-related? Because your partners ride?” she asked, before thinking better of it. In the end, it didn’t really matter why he wanted to learn. In the Dalton Downs hierarchy, he ranked somewhere on the level of her boss, or higher, so from a professional standpoint it behooved her to do what she could to make him happy. Kate might not have sent him over here, but she’d very likely expect her employees to accede to any of the Trinity partners’ wishes.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem put off by the question. Quite the opposite. “Finn grew up on horseback, probably rode before he walked, and yes, Mac learned last year, mostly so he could impress Kate. They go on these weekly picnic rides now and—whatever, that’s not important. I just thought it was a skill I should have, and, being as they’re right here, I’ve probably put it off too long as it is.”
Elena tried not to smile. He was awfully chatty all of a sudden. His gaze moved from her to the occupied stalls nearby, then back to her. It was the first time she’d ever seen him as anything other than the enigmatic, intense, controlled man who observed her while she worked. The very idea that he was at all nervous about learning to ride charmed her. Just a little.
“Are you all planning a horseback ride or event of some kind? I only ask because if there is a deadline by which you have to be a decent rider, or if there is something specific you need to learn, that would factor in to how we’d go about setting up your lessons.”
She thought about her newly adopted work program with Bonder. And Springer’s demands on her time. And all the other horses she was responsible for taking care of, and wondered when she’d have time for this. Not that she had a choice.
“No time frame, no event. Like I said, I just want to expand my horizons a bit. In my line of work, you never know what skills might come in handy.”
Which begged the question: what was it, exactly, that he did? She didn’t know much about Trinity, Inc., and, frankly, the less she knew about them and vice versa, the better. But now that it looked like she was going to be stuck spending time with him, perhaps it was best to do a little digging. Information was power, after all. A brand of power that, in the wrong hands, could definitely be used to harm her. But in her hands, could only help her. At the very least, it would help gauge just how safe and secure her chosen little hidey-hole really was.
“I know I’ve been here for a little while now, but I’m afraid I don’t know all that much about what you do. I know you, Mac, and Finn run some kind of foundation, so I take it Trinity is some kind of charitable organization, but—”
“We help people. But we’re not a charity, or a foundation.”
“Okay.” She paused to see if he would elaborate, but he said nothing more, and she took that to mean her line of questioning was over. Perhaps for the best. Information was fine, but in hindsight, the more he offered, she supposed, the more she owed in return. Maybe the less they had to talk about, the better.
As if to prove her point, he said, “How long have you been working with horses? I understand you work with racehorses as a rule.”
She stilled briefly, surprised that he knew about her past. Not that it was a secret. Kate knew her work history when she hired her. Maybe it was common knowledge around the grounds—she really didn’t know, as she made a point not to engage in small talk with any of the other personnel. Still, it was more than a little unsettling to think that he’d been checking up on her, or asking about her. Her guard increased. “I do. Or did. It’s a tough industry to get a break in, though, and I wasn’t moving along the way I wanted to in my former situation.” It had been her stock answer to Kate. And Kenny. And anyone else who wondered why she’d left the industry. Still, she found it hard to maintain direct eye contact in the face of his rather intense focus. She doubted he missed much, and, after dealing with Kenny’s surprise visit, her guard was in need of a bit more shoring-up before handling this kind of test.
“I’m guessing there aren’t too many women in your line of work.”
“Not too many, no.” Before she could deftly change the topic back to him and the classes he wanted, he continued.
“So, have you given up on it completely then?”
She forced herself to maintain steady eye contact, but it cost her. She could only pray he didn’t see anything in her gaze that was less than forthright. “No, just taking a break. My horse
