When Emerald and her stoic assistant, Luther Freemont, had met with him to turn over ownership of the farm, they’d informed him that Clara Buchanan was the live-in housekeeper. But they hadn’t said a word about Heather being the farm manager. That just reinforced Jake’s theory that Emerald was definitely up to something. Why else would she mention the name of the housekeeper and leave out all reference to the woman who ran the majority of the farm?
“I’ve met Heather.” The kid couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen years old, but it seemed he already had an appreciative eye for the ladies. “And I agree. She’s very pretty.”
When Daily opened the double doors and stood back, Jake entered the foyer and immediately felt as if he’d taken a step back in time. Decorated with furniture he had no doubt were period antiques, he half expected to see a woman in a wide hoop skirt descend the sweeping circular staircase. Or more likely a Kentucky colonel dressed in a white suit and holding a mint julep come strolling out of the study.
“Grandma told me to take your luggage up to the west wing,” Daily said, walking toward the stairs. “If you want me to, I can show you where your room is, Mr. Garnier.”
“Lead the way.” When they reached the top of the staircase, Jake grinned. “I’ll bet sliding down a banister like this one is as close to being on a roller coaster as you get without going to an amusement park.”
“Oh, dude, talk about a rush,” Daily said, his voice enthusiastic. He stopped suddenly, a concerned expression crossing his youthful face. “Uh, you probably don’t want me doing that because of scratching the finish.”
“It’s water under the bridge now.” Jake shook his head. “But I’m not as concerned with a few marks on the wood as I am about you taking a fall. That’s a long way down and you could be badly injured.”
“You won’t tell my grandma, will you? She’ll kill me if she finds out.”
Jake took pity on the kid. “As long as you don’t do it again, I think we can keep it between the two of us.”
Clearly relieved to hear Jake would be keeping his secret, the boy smiled. “Thanks. You’re really cool, Mr. Garnier.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Every time Daily called him Mr. Garnier, he felt as old as dirt. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you call me Jake?”
After a delicious lunch, Jake strolled back down the path leading to the stables and couldn’t help but wonder if he’d lost his touch with the opposite sex. He’d never had this much trouble with women in his entire life. If things didn’t change, he just might end up developing a complex.
Emerald, for one, was purposely avoiding him and unless he missed his guess, she’d continue to do so for a while. She had to know he was on to her latest matchmaking scheme and no doubt wanted to avoid having him tell her to mind her own damned business.
But Mrs. Buchanan’s sudden disappearance right after serving him lunch was a complete mystery. She’d been friendly enough when he first walked into the kitchen. But as soon as she put his plate in front of him, she’d apologized and rushed off to the housekeeper’s quarters as if she thought he was contagious.
And then there was the chilly reception he’d received from Heather that morning. Her body language and obvious contempt let him know in no uncertain terms exactly how she felt about his reappearance in her life. But try as he might, he couldn’t figure out why. He hoped for better luck with her during their meeting this afternoon, but he wasn’t fool enough to count on that happening.
Entering the stable, he walked past several stalls to the opposite end of the structure where the manager’s office was located. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Heather was nowhere in sight. Given her attitude toward him, he really expected no less. He wasn’t, however, prepared for the very large black dog that got up from a blanket in the corner, walked over and stretched out on top of his feet.
“At least you’re friendly,” he said, reaching down to pet the dog’s head.
Irritated that she’d obviously blown off his request to set up a meeting with the farm employees, he extricated his feet from beneath the animal and covered the short distance to where the brood mares were kept. He found Heather bent over a horse lying on its side in one of the stalls, and his mouth went completely dry. She was dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a pale pink T-shirt. With the denim hugging her shapely little bottom to perfection, he didn’t think twice about taking in the delightful view.
As she straightened, an older man Jake assumed to be one of the grooms brushed past him to enter the stall and hand her a pair of rubber gloves. When she pulled them on they extended up to her shoulders.
“What’s going on?” he asked, venturing farther into the enclosure.
“The stork is going to make it before the vet.” She knelt down behind the horse in the middle of the oversize stall. “Jake, I want you to hold her head to keep her from trying to get up, while Tony and I take care of things on this end,” she instructed.
Jake wasn’t used to anyone issuing him orders, but something in Heather’s tone had him kneeling down to carry out the directive. As he watched, the man she’d called Tony held the horse’s tail, while she helped guide the foal from the mare. She quickly lifted a membrane away from the colt’s nose, then vigorously massaged the animal’s small, wet body with a towel.
“Is that to make sure it starts breathing?” He found her skill and efficiency to be very impressive.
Nodding, she pulled off the gloves and stood up. “He was doing pretty good on his own, but it never hurts to have a little insurance when it comes to foals this valuable.” She smiled down at the weak little creature. “We may be looking at the next Triple Crown winner.”
Rising to his feet, he moved away from the mare’s head as she started to get her legs under her. “Do you have to do this sort of thing very often?”
Before she could answer his question, the cell phone clipped to the waistband of her jeans rang, and she stepped out of the stall to take the call.
Jake turned to the groom. “By the way, I’m Jake Garnier, the new owner here.”
Grinning, the man nodded. “I figured as much. Welcome to Hickory Hills.”
“I have to go up to the main house for a few minutes,” Heather interrupted, stepping back into the stall. “If you have any questions about the brood mares, training schedules or the farm’s daily routine, Tony can fill you in.”