Star Bright (21 page)

“He likes you,” Rainie observed.

“I’m an animal person. He probably senses that.” He glanced down at Mojo. “Doesn’t seem to like dogs much, though. Maybe, over time, they’ll become friends.”

Rainie took Parker a piece of cake. To her surprise, he allowed Thomas to remain on his lap while he ate the dessert.

When the meal was over, he insisted on helping her with the dishes and going around the house to do puppy cleanup. When everything was tidy, he collected his equipment and tools, took them out to his truck, and then returned to get Mojo and tell her good night.

Standing at the door with the puppy tucked under one arm, he said, “Supper was awesome, Rainie. I really enjoyed it. Thanks for invitin’ me.”

Rainie’s cheeks went warm. “It was the least I could do. Thank
you
for all your hard work. I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”

He opened the door to leave, then turned back. Before she could guess what he meant to do, he bent and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. “Good night. Sleep tight.”

And with that, he was gone. Rainie rubbed the spot where his lips had set her skin to tingling. Then she hurriedly engaged the dead bolts on her front door. Outside she heard his truck engine roar to life. A moment later, she caught the sound of the knobby tires grabbing asphalt as he drove away.

She had just released a dreamy sigh when her cell phone rang, making her jump with a start. No one ever called her anymore. She ran into the kitchen to pluck the device from her purse.

“Hello?”

Parker’s voice came over the line, as deep and rich as if he were still in the room. “Just for the record, that wasn’t a sneak kiss. You saw it comin’.”

Rainie grinned in spite of herself.

“It was also only a kiss between friends, so don’t start readin’ any hidden agenda into it. All right?”

She cradled the phone to her cheek as she sank onto a chair. The table wobbled under the press of her elbow.

“Rainie, are you there?”

“I’m here. You forgot to fix my table.”

“Uh-oh.” She heard the deep rumble of his laugh. The sound sent waves of warmth through her. “What do you say to us workin’ out a deal? I’ll fix the table in exchange for another home-cooked meal.”

Rainie hadn’t anticipated having Parker as a dinner guest again. But then, she was quickly coming to realize that Parker Harrigan was full of surprises. That brotherly kiss on her forehead had not been what she would have expected from him. It had touched her, actually. He’d kept his word, treating her like a friend. For some reason, the realization made her eyes burn.

“That sounds like a deal to me,” she managed to say without a wobble in her voice. “I forgot to pay you for the steel. It totally slipped my mind.”

“You’re in charge of the ranch checkbook these days.” His truck engine rumbled in the background. “Deduct it from next month’s wages. I’ll leave the receipt on your desk.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Grab a pencil and paper, would you? I need you to write somethin’ down.”

Rainie hurried over to the counter where she kept her phone book and shopping list. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He recited his phone numbers to her, saying each digit slowly. Then he asked her to repeat them back to him. When he was satisfied that she had them right, he said, “Enter them into speed dial on all your phones, including the cell. If anything happens when you’re there alone, call me before you dial the cops.”

Rainie squeezed her eyes closed, surprised and touched yet again. “You live so far out.”

“I can be there in ten minutes.”

“What?”
Rainie had made the drive many times and doubted that was possible. “That’s crazy, Parker. It’s a thirty-minute trip.”

“You haven’t seen me open this baby up. Just trust me on it. Okay? If anything happens, I’ll get there before the police do, guaranteed.”

Rainie nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “All right. Consider yourself entered in my speed dial.”

“Thanks. I’ll rest better knowin’ you can hot-dial me. Just don’t panic and forget to do it. No need to stay on the line. If I get a hang-up call from you, I’ll know you’re in trouble and be there before shit becomes shat.”

Rainie had never heard that expression. “Thank you, Parker. No matter what, I’ll remember to call you. I promise.”

She was smiling as she broke the connection. Then she immediately did as he had asked, entering his numbers into her phones. It comforted her to know he was only the push of a button away. The realization troubled her. Parker Harrigan was worming his way straight into her heart, and she couldn’t seem to stop it from happening. He made her
want
. Not in a sexual way. Peter had cured her of those yearnings. No, Parker made her want other things—to feel his big hand holding hers, to feel his strong arms around her, to hear the steady thump of his heart when she pressed her cheek to his solid chest. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but being near Parker made her feel safe, and to her, feeling safe was complete bliss.

A few minutes later, as she prepared for bed, she felt Parker’s presence everywhere in her bedroom. He was in her phones. He was in the bars over her windows and door. For the first time since she’d moved in, she didn’t bother to lock the bathroom door while she showered. Not even Peter could pass through steel. In order to get to her, he’d need a hacksaw, and even then, it would take him several minutes to cut his way through the heavy metal.

After turning out the lights, Rainie snuggled under the covers with Thomas. She didn’t shiver with dread as the shadows closed in around her. Peter no longer lurked in the darkness.

Parker Harrigan did.

Chapter Nine

M
ojo loved his new toys. The Tasmanian Devil squeaked, and the puppy seemed to find that highly entertaining, which allowed Rainie some uninterrupted time to work. Or so she thought. She’d just settled at her desk with a mug of coffee and a pile of invoices that needed to be logged into the computer when a rap came at the office door. She glanced up in bewilderment because Parker never knocked and his employees rarely visited the office.

“Come in,” she called out.

The door swung open to reveal an older version of Parker standing at the threshold. He wore the usual ranch-issue clothing, a faded blue chambray shirt, and equally faded Wrangler jeans. His dark brown Stetson sat at a jaunty angle on his salt-and-pepper head. At his narrow waist, he sported a hand-tooled leather belt with a fancy silver-and-gold buckle. His dusty, nicked riding boots looked almost as old as he was, which Rainie guessed to be about sixty, although he had the physique of a much younger man.

“Hi,” she said, determining immediately that he must be Frank Harrigan, the family patriarch.

He gave her a long study that made her feel like a bug specimen in a bottle. Then his brown eyes warmed on hers and began to twinkle. He inclined his head in a brief nod. “Howdy. I’m Parker’s dad, Frank.”

As he stepped into the room, he moved with the same easy grace as his son, the contours of his well-muscled body impressive for a man his age. The powerful set of his shoulders drew the cloth of his shirt taut over his upper arms, and the denim of his jeans showcased strong, roped thighs.

Rainie pushed up from her chair and stepped around the desk to offer him her hand. “I’m the bookkeeper, Anna Pritchard.”

As his leathery fingers closed around hers, he said, “I thought Parker said your name was Rainie.”

“Oh. That’s my nickname.”

“You cry a lot as a kid or somethin’?”

She laughed nervously. “No, not really. It’s just what my dad called me.”

“That’s what I’ll call you then.” He released her hand to nudge up his hat. After watching Mojo for a moment, he grinned and shook his head, his resemblance to Parker so marked that Rainie couldn’t stop staring. “This place looks like a tornado struck.”

“The tornado’s name is Mojo. He likes to rip up the newspapers.”

“I can see that.” Frank crouched beside the puppy and grabbed the toy. Mojo braced his stout little legs, let out a ferocious growl, and began tugging in the other direction. Frank laughed. “He’s got spunk. I’ll say that for him.”

“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Rainie offered. “I just made a fresh pot.”

“I’d love one,” he replied. “A dollop of cream and one sugar, please.”

Rainie went to the coffee room. When she returned a moment later, Frank Harrigan had settled his narrow hips against the edge of Parker’s desk. He accepted the coffee with a nod of thanks, took a cautious sip, and then said, “I meant to come over and meet you sooner, but Dee Dee has had me busy with honey-dos. Got it into her head that the house needed fixin’ up—new drapes, new furniture, and all manner of other changes.” He shrugged. “Looked fine the way it was to me, but Dee Dee wasn’t in a frame of mind to ask my opinion.”

Rainie smiled. “Maybe she just needed to put her own stamp on things.”

He nodded. “Could be, I reckon. When we got married, she sold her place. Maybe this is her way of makin’ a new nest.”

Rainie settled back down at her desk, wondering about the purpose of his visit. “Parker is in the arena, I think.”

“He is. I saw him on my way in.” He flashed a grin at her. “I’m not here to see Parker. I’m here to see you.”

“Oh.” Rainie waited for him to say more, but no explanation was forthcoming. “What are you here to see me about?” she finally asked.

“Nothin’ in particular. Just wanted to meet you and say welcome.” He took another swallow of coffee. “Parker says you’re a damn fine bookkeeper.”

“He does?”

Frank chuckled. “You seem surprised. Don’t you agree with that estimation?”

Rainie picked up her mug and cradled it between her hands. “I suppose I do, yes, although I must say that bookkeeping isn’t my specialty.”

“What is your specialty?”

“Business analysis, only in a very personal, hands-on way. I worked with entrepreneurs, helping them to redesign the workplace, develop employee incentive programs, and streamline expenses, allowing for higher pay structures and increased profits.”

His grizzled eyebrows arched. “You can do all that?”

“I was learning. Things happened, and I never finished my internship.”

“Ah.” He mulled that over for a moment. “Life got in the way, huh?”

Rainie found herself starting to relax. He had kind eyes and an irresistible smile that made her feel as if she’d known him for years. “That’s a good way of putting it,” she agreed. “Life does get in the way sometimes.”

“Are you sorry? About havin’ to quit your internship, I mean.”

It had been a long time since Rainie had allowed herself to think about her destroyed dreams. It came as something of a surprise to realize that she no longer mourned their loss. “Not really, no. I’m happy here.” She took a sip of her coffee, marveling at the truth of that statement. She
was
happy here—absolutely and completely happy. “The work isn’t too demanding, Parker pays me well, and”—she glanced at Mojo, who was still chewing on his toy—“things never get dull.”

Frank laughed. “Hold your hat, darlin’. Things will only get livelier. Come next spring, you’ll be bottle-feedin’ and imprintin’ foals.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I didn’t sign on to work with the horses.”

He grinned mischievously. “And you think that’ll make you exempt? Think again. Things get crazy around here when the mares start droppin’ foals, and Parker’s not shy about enlistin’ volunteers.”

In Rainie’s experience, Parker wasn’t shy about much of anything. “What, exactly, is imprinting?”

“That’s how those horses out there got so gentle, from bein’ imprinted. You essentially desensitize the foal to all manner of things that will frighten him when he grows older. Parker starts ’em off right after they’re born. He’ll have you out there helpin’ him, mark my words. Durin’ foalin’ season, he gets stretched mighty thin, and imprintin’ is the single most important thing he does durin’ that time.”

A month ago, the mere thought of being recruited to work with the horses would have alarmed Rainie, but now she no longer felt quite so intimidated by the huge creatures. Montana had come to expect treats from her when she entered the stable each morning, and soon all of the other horses had started expecting them as well. She’d been nervous at first, but the animals were so careful not to bite her as they took a carrot or apple slice that she soon stopped being afraid.

“I love babies. Working with the foals might be fun.”

“They are cute,” he agreed. “And earnin’ their trust is rewardin’, with the double benefit that you know you’re savin’ ’em a lot of heartache on down the road.”

“How is that?”

“An imprinted horse is easy to work with and seldom requires a twitch or rough handlin’ to control ’em. They’re as gentle as lapdogs, and not much of anything spooks ’em.”

“What’s a twitch?” she couldn’t resist asking.

“There are several different kinds. One is a stick with a rope or chain loop on the end. You fit the loop over the horse’s nose and twist the stick until it grows uncomfortably tight. Another kind is a clamp that’s inserted in the horse’s nostrils. Supposedly the horse is so focused on the discomfort of the twitch that it barely notices what you’re doin’. The truth, in my opinion, is that it hurts so bad, the horse is afraid to move.”