prove Lucy unsuitable, he’d have to ensure she did nothing to harm the operation, the horses or herself. He didn’t relish having to babysit his ex-girlfriend.
Lane continued to show Lucy around each wing of the Bridle Dance stables and introduced her to the majority of the people on the day staff. The state-of-the-art breeding lab fascinated Lucy the most and her knowledge of the process surprised him. There had been a breeding program in place when she’d last visited Ramblewood, but it had grown significantly since then. Maybe a nudge or two in that direction would tempt her to explore other options. He’d prefer her off the ranch entirely, but that wasn’t his choice to make. Seeing her in any other position would be more tolerable than in the one he’d earned.
“Here’s our home base.” Lane opened the door to a small room located on the main stable floor near the entrance. One thing he hadn’t factored in was that they’d be sharing an office. Not that they’d have the opportunity to spend much time in it together. The majority of their day would be spent either in the stables or outside. Being next to her inside the cramped space just about short-circuited his brain. He noticed beads of sweat forming above her lip and he wondered if she was nervous about being alone with him or if she was hot from the relentless September heat. He didn’t dare ask.
Even though he hated that Lucy had the job he wanted, he couldn’t blame her for getting an education. He was the same age, and she was a reminder that he should be further along in his career. He’d been on his own since his eighteenth birthday. Lucy had been a year older when she’d had Carina. He gave her credit for raising a child while going to college.
Lane sat at the desk across from hers. He cleared his throat. “It’s rare that we’ll have a chance to sit down like this during most days. Is there anything you want to ask that I haven’t already covered? I’m all yours.” He wanted to take back the words the moment he’d said them. Flirting with Lucy was not an option, not that he was attempting to flirt with her. He would not ride down that trail again, especially now that he knew the extent of her betrayal.
Lucy flipped open her notebook and removed a sheet of paper printed on both sides, resembling a scan from a classroom workbook rather than something she’d typed. Couldn’t she have come up with her own questions to ask? “How often does the farrier come in?”
“He never leaves. Well, we allow him to go home at night. We have an on-site farrier named Jorge—he works exclusively for Bridle Dance. He’s responsible for all shoeing and hoof trimming.”
“Who manages that schedule?” Lucy continued to take notes without bothering to look at him. He should have been relieved, but he found it almost dismissive. Okay, so their time together had ended a decade ago; it was still history—a lot of history. He wasn’t a stranger, yet she was treating him like one.
It was a battle to concentrate on her questions and not ask any of his own. “You do.” Lane stood and pulled a binder from the shelf. The movement caused her to glance up at him. When their gazes met, he instantly regretted wishing for eye contact moments ago. Unprepared for the disruption to his thought process, his mind struggled for words. “It’s impossible...” Lane cleared his throat again. “It’s impossible for you to check every horse on the ranch yourself. We have a schedule depending on the horse’s age, what stage of training it’s in, its activity level and so on. We handle the yearlings more frequently, so they’ll get accustomed to the process. This allows us to see if they require any corrective shoeing. Jorge will email you a daily log sheet and you’ll need to print, review and file it in here every day.”
Lane felt as though he were talking at warp speed. After he’d explained employee schedules, payroll procedures and supply ordering and had answered every question she had asked, the afternoon was almost over. It was too much time together—too much closeness. He was wrong before. The past needed to stay in the past. Too many of the times they’d shared together thrashed wildly in his brain like a bull trying to buck its rider. Lane stood and reached for the doorknob, wondering why he’d ever closed the door in the first place. “There’s also a checklist we run through at the end of the day and give to Brad—the night manager—when he comes in, which should be shortly. He’ll repeat the same process in the morning with you. We’ll cover that tomorrow.”
Lucy’s fingers lightly brushed against his arm as she tried to stop him before he opened the door. The singe of heat he felt from the brief contact lasted only a second before she apologetically stepped back. “I know I told you earlier that this wasn’t the place to discuss what happened, but I need you to know that I’m sorry for the way things ended. I didn’t know you waited for me in Wyoming. I thought Nicolino had told you and that’s my fault. You deserved a personal explanation from me. I also found out you wanted this job. If I had known, I never would have accepted the position. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to walk away from it, either.”
“This morning was a complete surprise.” Lane folded his arms. “Nicolino claims you’re more qualified than me. While that remains to be seen, I’ll admit that I’m surprised at the career path you chose, considering the way you used to party when we were kids. I always knew you were smart. I just never knew you had the commitment to stay with something.” Lane cringed at his own words. “That didn’t come out exactly how I meant it. Let’s just say...you were much more free-spirited back then. Your dedication and commitment to your education is commendable, along with raising a beautiful daughter. It couldn’t have been easy.”
“Thank you. It wasn’t exactly part of my grand plan, but I can’t imagine life without Carina.” Lucy dropped her gaze, shifting from one foot to the other. “The circumstances surrounding my marriage to Antonio were far from ideal. The love we shared for our daughter kept us together, especially after we almost lost her. Carina was born three months premature. Her chances for survival were almost nonexistent. I can’t even begin to tell you what that was like. I wouldn’t wish that pain on my worst enemy.”
“I had no idea you even had a child until yesterday.” A part of him wasn’t sure he was ready to hear about the child she’d had with some other man; another part wanted to know everything about her life since he’d last seen her. “What happened?”
Lucy’s eyes shone with wetness. “The majority of my pregnancy was spent bedridden. When I went into labor, they didn’t think either one of us would survive. I refused to give up on her. Watching your child lie there helpless inside an incubator, connected to tubes and wires while a machine breathes for her, is beyond words. I knew every beep, every hum from the equipment in the room. Carina’s a fighter.” She met his eyes once again. “I’m sorry if the news of my marriage hurt you. It wasn’t all wine and roses, but it wasn’t terrible, either. Antonio loved Carina. He...”
Lane straightened his spine, still trying to wrap his head around what she had told him and what she had purposely left out. “He what? What happened to Antonio?”
Lucy sighed. “Antonio died of a brain aneurysm four months ago.”
Lane had wondered if Carina’s father was still involved in her life. Death had been the furthest possibility from his mind. He understood the anguish her daughter probably felt, having lost his own father as a child. “That must’ve been incredibly difficult for you both.”
“We’d been divorced for almost a year when it happened, but we had remained very close. Antonio was my best friend. But there were things I didn’t know. Like how much debt he had. We lived well—too well. After he died, I discovered some of his business affairs were not—how do I say it in English?—legitimate. All of his assets were seized and we were left with nothing. We didn’t even have my family’s support after he died. If you thought they were strict when I was growing up, that was nothing compared to what happened after Antonio and I divorced. They disowned us. Try explaining that to a kid.” Lucy’s
