Sun Kissed by Catherine Anderson Page B

the kitchen by a breakfast bar. A closet-sized bathroom and bedroom lay at the back. Jerome had moved in eight years ago, right after the stables and arena were built. Prior to that, he’d worked twenty-two years as a ranch hand for Frank Harrigan.
    Though technically their relationship was that of employer and employee, Samantha never thought of Jerome as her subordinate or treated him as such. She’d known him all her life, trusted him immensely, and couldn’t have loved him more if he’d actually been a blood relative. His knowledge of horses was second only to her father’s, and she picked his brain at least a dozen times a day.
    She swung a leg over an oak bar stool, plopped the equine treats on the counter, and accepted the mug of steaming coffee that he slid toward her.
    “Ah,” she said appreciatively after taking a careful sip. “Nobody but you makes coffee quite as good as Dad’s. What’s the secret?”
    “Right before we set the pot on to boil, we spit in the grounds basket.”
    “Liar.” Samantha wrinkled her nose but confidently took another sip. “No wonder you never got married. No woman in her right mind would put up with you.”
    Jerome laughed. He was still a good-looking man, his medium frame trim and superbly fit. “The ladies like me just fine. And it’s not my old-fashioned boiled coffee that attracts them, either.”
    Samantha had no difficulty believing that. Jerome had a lazy, relaxed manner that put everyone at ease.
    “It’s a little after six on a Sunday morning,” she popped back. “You can’t tell me you had a hot date last night.”
    “That Friday- and Saturday-night nonsense is for you young people. I do my socializing on weeknights. Over the weekends I hang around here to do early feedings so all of you can party at the honky-tonks until the wee hours.”
    “Not me.”
    “More’s the pity,” Jerome replied. “You could do with a little fun for a change. How long has it been since you went dancing?”
    “Not long enough.” Samantha lifted her cup to her lips and smiled at him over the rim. “My dance-floor career was an abysmal failure. I was born with two left feet.”
    “You dance pretty enough when you’re working with a horse,” he pointed out.
    Samantha let that pass. “Who came in yesterday to work a half shift?”
    “Carrie and Kyle. I let both of them leave an hour earlyso they could go to the fairgrounds and watch Blue win the cutting horse competition.”
    “And he didn’t disappoint them!” Samantha said proudly. “I’ll bet afterward Kyle told everybody who would listen that he trained Blue himself.”
    Jerome chuckled. “You’re probably right. That boy has an incredible talent with horses, but it’s mostly on the tip of his tongue.”
    They passed a few minutes recalling comical moments in Kyle’s horse training career, the most notable the time he accidentally stepped inside the loop of a lasso when the other end of the rope was tied to the saddle of a green cow pony. Fortunately for Kyle, Jerome had been close at hand to prevent disaster, and Kyle hadn’t been badly hurt.
    When their mirth subsided, Samantha asked, “How’s Carrie seem to be doing?”
    “Well enough, I reckon. Doing her work, anyway, and she seems to enjoy the horses. Why do you ask?”
    In the process of peeling the wrapper off her granola bar, Samantha shrugged. Carrie was a relatively new employee who’d been cheerful and friendly when she’d first hired on. “She hasn’t been very talkative lately. I’m concerned that the job may not be all that she hoped. I know her wages could be better.”
    “You explained before you hired her that things would be tight for another year. She knows you’ll give her a raise as soon as you’re able.”
    “Yeah.” Samantha took a small bite of the bar, then chewed and swallowed. “Promises don’t pay the bills, though. I know she’s pulled a couple of extra shifts recently for that nursing agency she used to work