Miss Farnsworth had some explaining to do. And fast.
“I came to be alone.” She shot the words out all in one go, attempting a defiance that fell completely flat.
“So you’re sneaking around in the middle of the night? What are you really after? If you’re here to harm my horses…” He took a menacing step. “No king will protect you here, Miss Farnsworth.”
She gawped at him with what looked like disbelief. Good, he thought. Calling her out might just get him some answers. She blinked back the remaining tears, and his shoulders relaxed a little. Relief. He didn’t deal well with tears and histrionics.
“After? You think I’m after something?”
“Are you kidding? You arrive today and your first night here I find you snooping around my stock while you’re supposed to be asleep? What would you think?”
He watched, utterly entranced as she swallowed, casting her eyes on her feet. She was caught. Guilt was written all over her pink cheeks.
“I’m sorry. Of course you would think that. I…please believe me, Mr. Hamilton. I had no…untoward intentions by coming here tonight.”
“Then, why are you here?”
Stoically she looked away, focused on Pretty’s neck, smoothing her hand over the gleaming hide.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not exactly. Beyond that you’re upset.” He stepped another foot forward, shortening the distance between them. He would look in her eyes. Then he’d know for sure if she was telling the truth. “That’s a given.”
Her lower lip trembled until she bit it, worrying it with her teeth. Brody stopped, shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I came here to be alone. To…to have a cry out, okay? I never meant to disturb you.”
A stranger was in his barn in the middle of the night bawling all over one of his horses. This was a first. His brows knit together. Granted, he’d been short with her a few times today. But she’d gone toe-to-toe with him and he’d respected that. He hadn’t gotten the impression she was the weepy sort.
But she was definitely weepy now, and he had to admit her story rang true. Those tears hadn’t been manufactured when he’d burst through the stall door. And he remembered doing handkerchief duty for Lisa and stepped backward. He’d done his time with crying females and didn’t care to again.
“Mornin’ comes early. Why don’t we go back up to the house now.”
Her eyes slid to his, and he felt the impact straight through his gut to his spine. A few strands from her curls stuck to the dampness of her cheek.
“I’ll be up in a bit.”
Brody stared at her. She obviously didn’t get the hint that he didn’t want to leave her in the barn. Granted, he’d told her to make herself at home earlier, but this was stretching it just a little. More than a little. He didn’t like her snooping about, no matter who her boss was. His first care was for his horses. He’d learned that a long time ago. And it had cost him.
“I insist. I insist you leave with me now. There will be time for you to look around tomorrow. With me.”
He had nothing to hide, but he did have Prairie Rose to protect.
“Please…I just want some time to pull myself together.”
“I’ll just keep you company, then.” He folded his arms.
She looked past his shoulder, out the door of the stall as if trying to figure out how to get away. Annoyed that she’d stopped giving her attention, Pretty dipped her head and nudged Lucy’s hand.
“She likes you.”
“I like her.” Lucy pressed her face into the mane again. It was obvious she wasn’t ready to leave yet, and he’d be damned if he’d leave her down here alone. Brody stepped a little to the side, leaning back against the fragrant wood of the box.
“Why?”
Lucy looked up. “Why what?”
“Why are you so interested in Pretty Piece? She’s got years left, granted, but she’s not what you came for.”
Lucy rubbed her hand down the velvety nose. “No, she’s not. She’s a delightful surprise. I knew…I knew her mother.”
To his chagrin her voice broke on the last word. Lord, not more tears.
“Let’s get out of here,” he demanded, stepping forward and gripping her arm. It was warm through the fleece she was wearing. “Before you upset the horses as well as yourself.”
He led her out of the stall, and when she paused he tugged on her elbow.
“Stop.” Her voice was sharp as she pulled out of his grasp.
“You want to talk about why you’re crying, then? Because I want answers. Satisfying ones.”
“I’m not crying for any specific reason.” Her chin jutted out. “I just couldn’t sleep.”
He snorted something unintelligible.
She looked up at him then. “I did travel halfway across the world, you know.”
Brody watched her keenly. This had nothing to do with jet lag, he knew it. And even though they’d argued earlier, he knew it wasn’t about that, either. There was something else at the heart of it. What had she meant earlier when she’d muttered it wasn’t fair?
He’d never been able to watch a woman cry, and he’d done his share in years past. That had been one of his biggest mistakes, and even knowing it he couldn’t help the need to help that rose up in him. He wanted to believe her. To believe her motives were true even though her actions were suspect.
He took another step closer, close enough that if he extended his arm he’d be able to touch the tender skin of her bruised eyelids. Only inches away.
“What is it, Lucy? What is it about being here that upsets you so much?”
Lucy’s fingers tightened, wrapping around each other in the absence of Pretty’s coarse mane. She had to keep it together, because if she let go she’d realize exactly how close Brody was right now. The barn was so quiet she could hear the hum of the lights overhead. And still he watched her, waiting. Waiting for a reasonable explanation.
Brody was a deliberate man. She could tell that earlier. He did things a certain way and had definite opinions, and his initial one of her hadn’t been favorable. And yet…he was waiting patiently for her. And she had no idea what to tell him. The truth was out of the question.
The sting of it was, when he looked at her this way, she wanted to tell him all manner of things, and she was sure he wouldn’t understand.
No one understood.
Once again the feeling of total isolation. There was nothing familiar anymore, and the closest she’d gotten to
