Straight From The Hip. Сьюзен Мэллери

went outside. She saw the brighter light and felt the intense heat.

      “You’ll be working in the barn,” Nick said, his dark shape moving in front of her. “Rita’s in charge. Do what she says. We have twelve horses that need to be cleaned up after, fed and groomed. That should keep you busy. When you’re more comfortable with your surroundings, you can start exercising them in the corrals. There’s a corporate retreat in a couple of weeks. When that happens, we all pitch in, including you.”

      She waited until they passed into shade, then stopped and folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’re not going to tell me what to do. The only thing you’re going to do is take me back to my sister’s house, right now.”

      “Too bad you’re blind, because if you weren’t you could take one look at my face and know that’s not going to happen. Obviously I need to convince you with my words.” He took a step toward her. “No. Clear enough?”

      She curled her hands into fists and started hitting the dark shape in front of her. “It’s not clear. Nothing’s clear,” she yelled. “Don’t you get that? Nothing is right. I can’t make it go away. It sucks. My life is ruined and you want to talk to me about horses? About your stupid ranch? I want to go home. I want to be left alone.”

      She hit and hit until her arms got tired. Nick didn’t bother defending himself, probably because she wasn’t hurting him. Eventually, she dropped her hands to her sides.

      “You about done?” he asked. “Is there more? You want to cry now?”

      She hated him, then. Hated him more than she’d hated any human being ever.

      “I’ll find a way to crush you,” she vowed.

      “You’ll have to find me, first. But that’s the trick, isn’t it? You can’t find anything. If you had the surgery, you could.”

      “Get off me about the surgery,” she yelled. “Did they tell you it wasn’t a sure thing? Did they tell you I could end up totally blind?”

      “Yes, but the odds are you’ll be fine. Those are odds worth taking.”

      “Easy for you to say. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

      “Fair enough. The barn is this way.”

      He just started walking. As if he expected her to follow him. As if her pain and suffering didn’t matter.

      “I’m not even a person to you, am I?” she asked, defeated and exhausted.

      “You’re a person. You’re just not much of one right now. Rita will show you everything in the morning. For today, you can groom one of the horses. Skye said you’ve been around horses your whole life so you know what you’re doing.”

      They were near the barn. Izzy saw the yawning darkness and didn’t want to go inside. It was too black, there. Too frightening.

      “I don’t want this,” she murmured.

      “Too bad.”

      Maybe this was all designed to break her so she could be built up again. Maybe there was a master plan. Or maybe Nick was just a sick bastard who liked torturing people. Either way, she didn’t much care.

      She turned slowly, until she felt the sun in her face. It had to be late afternoon, so the sun was in the west. She thought about sitting in the back of the SUV during the drive and feeling the sun moving across her lap, warming her hands and her thighs. Then she closed her eyes and pictured a map.

      They’d driven north for a while, then turned into the sun. So she had to go east to retrace the route. If she started walking, maybe she would find her way back. Or maybe just die. Right now that seemed okay, too.

      She spun on her heel and took the first step. She half expected Nick to say something, but he didn’t. She kept moving forward, straining to see anything that could trip her, like a fence or a bush.

      “Where are you going?” he called after a couple of minutes.

      “Home.”

      “Good luck with that.”

      She raised her hand and gave him the finger. The sun was hot on her back, but the heat was reassuring. It reminded her she was going the right way. That if she didn’t give up, eventually she would make it.

      CHAPTER TWO

      WOMEN WERE an inherent pain in the ass, Nick thought as he grabbed four bottles of water from the refrigerator in the mudroom. Aaron followed him back outside.

      “What are you doing? Where’s Izzy? You haven’t lost her already, have you?”

      Nick jerked his head to the right and kept on walking. “She took off.”

      “What?” Aaron took a half hop to keep up. “She’s blind. She can’t just take off.”

      “She did.”

      “What did you say? I know this is your fault. You said something mean, didn’t you?”

      “No.”

      “Then why didn’t you stop her? She could get lost out there.”

      There was a slight possibility, but Nick doubted it. He’d given her a thirty-minute head start, so she could walk off some of her mad. He didn’t want to find her for at least an hour, maybe longer. She needed time to think through her options.

      “She’s in the dry riverbed. She’ll walk along it because it’s the easiest footing.”

      Aaron trailed him into the barn. “What if there’s a flash flood?”

      Nick handed him the water and went to get his horse. “You see any clouds in the sky?”

      “Okay, but what about snakes? Or she could fall.”

      “I’m willing to risk it.”

      “Is she?”

      “Apparently. She’s the one who took off.” He led his horse out of the stall.

      “She’s scared. Jesus, Nick, the girl has been blind all of fifteen minutes. Give her a break.”

      “She’ll have to earn that.”

      Aaron put the water on a worn stubby table, then planted his hands on his hips. “Sometimes you’re a big pain in my ass.”

      “You think?”

      Aaron pressed his lips together. Nick’s assistant was about five-ten, thin, with styled dark hair and a fussiness about him Nick had learned to accept. No matter how many pairs of jeans he wore, he never looked as if he totally fit in. He would always be a city boy trapped in rural Texas.

      Nick accepted that, as well. Aaron was damned good at his job and loyal. But he had a way of burrowing in a topic like a tick during rainy season.

      “She’s a nice girl,” Aaron said. “She’s out of her element. As far as she’s concerned, her family just rejected her. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

      Nick finished with the saddle. He grabbed the water and stuck it into the saddlebags. “She’s here so we can help her. That’s what matters. She’s upset. She’ll walk it off and then be easier to handle.”

      “She’s not an upset cow. She’s a person.”

      “You’re taking this too much to heart.”

      “Someone has to. Give her a break.”

      “I’m rescuing her. Isn’t that enough?”

      “No. She’s nice. You need nice in your life.”

      Nick led his horse outside. Before mounting, he glared at Aaron. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right this second. You hear me?”

      Aaron grinned.