clipping it high on the back of her head, and set off down the red dirt road, dragging her wheeled briefcase behind her. She was not going to acknowledge the big black horse following directly behind her.
Take a breath.
Keep it together.
It was hot. Her black jacket, black pencil skirt and heels were soaking up the heat like a well-wrung sponge. She tugged off her blazer and tucked it over the strap of her wheeled briefcase. Her white camisole was much cooler. She could only hope her SPF 35 sunscreen would save her from getting too burned.
It was rugged country, with rock outcrops, twisted oaks, brightly colored wildflowers and needle-heavy cacti. But it was gorgeous in a wild, untamed way. The chirp of songbirds, the whir and hiss of the cicadas, and the rhythmic clip-clop of her traveling companion’s hooves offered a complementary soundscape.
Her heel caught between two rocks, so she paused, tugging her shoe free. What she wouldn’t give for her tennis shoes right about now. The horse, however, didn’t stop. When she had her shoe back on and she was on two feet again, the horse...hugged her. His massive head rested on her shoulder, offering her what she could only consider an embrace—minus the arms.
She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “You’re a charmer, aren’t you? Let’s keep going.”
The horse swished its tangled black tail, brown eyes fixed on her and ears perked up.
Eden set off again, stopping only when her shoes were too full of rocks or dirt to walk comfortably. And every time she stopped, so did the horse.
By the time she reached the refuge, she was overheated, dripping sweat and thoroughly exhausted. But even dehydration and throbbing feet didn’t diminish the fact that Boone Ranch Refuge was impressive. Too bad her phone wasn’t working; she could take a few pictures of the place her father was hell-bent on closing down. A place her mother had always championed.
Something large and solid bumped her between the shoulders, almost knocking her off her feet. She glanced back at the horse, tentatively rubbing her hand along its thick neck. “I’m assuming that’s home.” She kept her voice low, the same soothing tone she used when her daughters were sick or upset.
The horse snorted, pushing his nose into her chest.
“I’m going, I’m going.” She smiled at the horse before hobbling forward, her briefcase bouncing along, rattling loudly.
When she walked under the arched Boone Ranch Refuge sign, she breathed a sigh of relief. First order of business, kicking off her shoes. The sooner, the better.
Several men formed a sea of cowboy hats. They stopped to stare at her as she headed toward the steps of the building with the small sign that read Refuge Office and Education Center. A building she hoped would house a bathroom. And ice-cold air-conditioning. And a comfy chair.
“You’ve got a shadow,” one of the cowboys said, hurrying to take the handle of her bag. “Let me help.” He smiled, pushing his hat back on his forehead.
“I’ve got it, thanks.” She glanced back, the black horse still tracking her. “He’s determined.”
“He been following you for long?” the man asked, his megawatt smile a little too phony for her. Clark had a similar smile. She’d never fall for that again.
“My car broke down past the second cattle guard. He’s been with me ever since.”
“He pulled a Houdini this morning—doesn’t like being fenced in. Always seems to find his way home around dinnertime.” He laughed, shaking his head. He was very handsome. “Count yourself lucky. Fester’s been known to bite the hand that feeds him more than once.”
She glanced at the horse, grateful Fester deemed her un-bite-able. Maybe the horse didn’t like megawatt smiles, either. She fanned herself, hot, tired and out of patience. “I’m looking for Dr. Archer Boone?”
“Well, that’s a shame. I’m his cousin, Toben Boone.” His demeanor grew a little too friendly for her liking. So she leveled him with her most professional—and most icy—stare. His eyebrows kicked high on his forehead, but his smile didn’t dim. “Fair warning. Fester might be on his best behavior, but my cousin’s in one hell of a bad mood.” He shrugged, calling out, “Archer, there’s someone to see you.”
She didn’t miss the head-to-toe sweep Toben Boone gave her. Or the way it ratcheted up her irritation. Please, God, don’t let Archer Boone be anything like his cousin.
The glass door opened slowly. A tall man with sandy blond hair stepped onto the porch, his attention riveted on the papers he held. This was the Dr. Archer Boone? With all the degrees, special certifications, awards and recommendations? He looked...like a cowboy. Jeans, plaid shirt, boots. Younger than she’d thought. Fit. And strikingly handsome.
His pale blue eyes barely looked her way, the slightly confused and disinterested expression a stark contrast to Toben’s openly appreciative assessment.
She waited.
Archer looked up, his gaze narrowing. “There’s Fester.” He rested a hand on his hip, nodding at her horse companion. “Think you can put him in a pen that’ll hold him this time?”
She didn’t miss the “this time.” Or the way Toben Boone’s smile dimmed.
Archer looked at her again, as if only realizing there was someone else on the porch. His expression went from confused to openly hostile.
“You’re late.” Disapproval was clear in his voice. “Follow me.” He disappeared inside without another word.
She stared after the man, in shock. Late for what? No one knew she was coming.
“That’s Archer,” Toben said. “I’d tell you he’s a son of a bitch, but it’s not right to talk about family like that.” He winked at her. “Good luck.”
Eden stood on the porch, still gripping her briefcase. Her feet hurt, her ankle throbbed, and she was exhausted. And now she had to deal with Dr. Archer Boone, who was, apparently, an ass. She stiffened her spine and followed him inside. He might not know it yet, but she held the fate of his refuge in her hands. And she could be just as cold and condescending as he was.
* * *
IT TOOK EVERYTHING he had not to yell at the well-dressed young woman standing in his office doorway. But he wasn’t going to hide his frustration. She was the reason for it. “I don’t have a lot of time to get you situated.” He brushed past her into the hallway, heading toward the makeshift office he’d prepared for her.
Was she wearing perfume? Did she think wearing a suit and nice perfume would make up for being three days late?
“Dr. Boone—”
“No apologies necessary.” He headed down the hallway, opening the door next to his office. “Close quarters. This room is for storage but you should have everything you need to get the books in order.” What was her name again? The temp agency had sent an email with all of her information. Amber...Amber Larkin?
Miss Larkin followed him into the office, pausing inside the door. Her face was expressionless, but he got the distinct impression she wasn’t thrilled with her work space.
