see the frown from this distance, but it’s right there between her
eyebrows.
“I’m not sick, but he did say he didn’t need me today. I figure
he’s just upset about yesterday.” Cassidy takes the lead from his hand, and he
lets it slide out easily. Beethoven is grazing about six feet in front of him,
but his ears are still pointed towards Troy as if he’s on alert. The horse does
seem calmer.
“I can take it from here. Beethoven can be a bit of a prick
sometimes. He has a mind of his own, and he doesn’t like to take orders.”
Before he can stop himself, Troy hides a chuckle with a cough and turns away.
“What’s funny about that?”
“It’s just, I think I know how he feels. Taking orders
sucks.” Now that he’s free of horse walking duty, Troy takes his leave of the
woman, and her mustang to clean the stalls. Grant slides off his fence and
follows after the stranger on his farm.
Robert Grant can’t stop thinking about the mystery man who
showed up early in the morning on his farm after he received a phone call only twenty-four
hours ahead of time. He’s never told what it is that these men had done before
they were enrolled in the program, but he is told what type of risk they
entail. Troy Red is the most dangerous man he’s ever let into his home, and all
he knows is that the fellow killed people.
It’s not that he doesn’t like the boy, but Cassidy can fall
easily when she has a mind to. Grant doesn’t want his daughter getting involved
with a man that will lie to her. It’s not a matter of if but when. Yet
something intrigues him whenever the man lets his guard down for a few seconds.
“Troy!” Grant calls out, grabbing one of the shovels from
the tack room. He puts on a smile for the newcomer and tries to push aside his
worries. “You did good.” He takes the shovel from Troy that has a splintering
handle and replaces it with the better one. Then he wanders off to check his
fields.
As he shovels, Troy attempts to think of anything but his
niece who just enjoyed coloring in her pictures. Life was good until he screwed
up, and now he has to deal with the consequences of involving them with him at
all. He should have done just as other hit men do, disappear from their family’s
lives and forget they exist.
It’s not until the barn door slams shut that he realizes
he’s been shoveling the same stall for over half an hour. It’s scraped so clean
he’ll barely have to hose it down at this point. Cassidy is pulling off her
gloves and shaking her hair out of her face when he glances up. Their eyes meet
for an instant, and he sees the flush on her face when she heads for the tack
room. Is she embarrassed about yesterday, or something else?
Thinking about it is only going to get you in more
trouble. Troy moves on to the next stall before he can get into any more
trouble with Grant’s daughter. If he stays away from her as much as possible,
he won’t be tempted to test the waters with her. One second he feels cold
towards her, but when she’s off guard and uncaring, she reminds him of a
sweeter life.
The sound of their shovels scraping on the concrete floors
is the only noise in the barn when Grant walks in through the doors with dirt
all over him and his hair sticking up at odd angles. He’s suspicious of the
silence, but doesn’t say anything as he walks to the tack room to put his
gloves away. Troy is in the third stall down, so he leans against the sliding
door and watches the man’s back bunch with his labor. It’s obvious he’s
attempting to work something off, but Grant doubts he’ll talk about it.
“The hay will be ready tomorrow. It’s already dry in this
heat. Do you think you’ll be up to it?” Troy’s grunt is the only answer he
gets, so he moves on to Cassidy’s stall and leans against the door. She’s
working just as hard as the man across the aisle from her.
“I’ll be ready, Dad.” She says without looking up at him.
There’s a bead of sweat that
eyebrows.
“I’m not sick, but he did say he didn’t need me today. I figure
he’s just upset about yesterday.” Cassidy takes the lead from his hand, and he
lets it slide out easily. Beethoven is grazing about six feet in front of him,
but his ears are still pointed towards Troy as if he’s on alert. The horse does
seem calmer.
“I can take it from here. Beethoven can be a bit of a prick
sometimes. He has a mind of his own, and he doesn’t like to take orders.”
Before he can stop himself, Troy hides a chuckle with a cough and turns away.
“What’s funny about that?”
“It’s just, I think I know how he feels. Taking orders
sucks.” Now that he’s free of horse walking duty, Troy takes his leave of the
woman, and her mustang to clean the stalls. Grant slides off his fence and
follows after the stranger on his farm.
Robert Grant can’t stop thinking about the mystery man who
showed up early in the morning on his farm after he received a phone call only twenty-four
hours ahead of time. He’s never told what it is that these men had done before
they were enrolled in the program, but he is told what type of risk they
entail. Troy Red is the most dangerous man he’s ever let into his home, and all
he knows is that the fellow killed people.
It’s not that he doesn’t like the boy, but Cassidy can fall
easily when she has a mind to. Grant doesn’t want his daughter getting involved
with a man that will lie to her. It’s not a matter of if but when. Yet
something intrigues him whenever the man lets his guard down for a few seconds.
“Troy!” Grant calls out, grabbing one of the shovels from
the tack room. He puts on a smile for the newcomer and tries to push aside his
worries. “You did good.” He takes the shovel from Troy that has a splintering
handle and replaces it with the better one. Then he wanders off to check his
fields.
As he shovels, Troy attempts to think of anything but his
niece who just enjoyed coloring in her pictures. Life was good until he screwed
up, and now he has to deal with the consequences of involving them with him at
all. He should have done just as other hit men do, disappear from their family’s
lives and forget they exist.
It’s not until the barn door slams shut that he realizes
he’s been shoveling the same stall for over half an hour. It’s scraped so clean
he’ll barely have to hose it down at this point. Cassidy is pulling off her
gloves and shaking her hair out of her face when he glances up. Their eyes meet
for an instant, and he sees the flush on her face when she heads for the tack
room. Is she embarrassed about yesterday, or something else?
Thinking about it is only going to get you in more
trouble. Troy moves on to the next stall before he can get into any more
trouble with Grant’s daughter. If he stays away from her as much as possible,
he won’t be tempted to test the waters with her. One second he feels cold
towards her, but when she’s off guard and uncaring, she reminds him of a
sweeter life.
The sound of their shovels scraping on the concrete floors
is the only noise in the barn when Grant walks in through the doors with dirt
all over him and his hair sticking up at odd angles. He’s suspicious of the
silence, but doesn’t say anything as he walks to the tack room to put his
gloves away. Troy is in the third stall down, so he leans against the sliding
door and watches the man’s back bunch with his labor. It’s obvious he’s
attempting to work something off, but Grant doubts he’ll talk about it.
“The hay will be ready tomorrow. It’s already dry in this
heat. Do you think you’ll be up to it?” Troy’s grunt is the only answer he
gets, so he moves on to Cassidy’s stall and leans against the door. She’s
working just as hard as the man across the aisle from her.
“I’ll be ready, Dad.” She says without looking up at him.
There’s a bead of sweat that
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