Harm's Hunger (9 page)

“Oh, I see.” Jena bit her bottom lip and tried not to let her disappointment show. Her chest ached at the idea she wouldn’t catch any more glimpses of Harm now that he wouldn’t have a reason to stop by every day. Sparring with Harm was better than no Harm. At least then she could imagine that deep down he felt something for her beyond intense dislike. And that she hadn’t totally made up the amazing chemistry between them. Harm had her soiled clothes laundered. That had to count for something, right? Then again, those close to him apparently didn’t think his time here was in his best interest. Sighing, she gestured to the barn. “His other horse is in there.”

The older man eyed her for a couple of seconds, then snorted and turned Harm’s horse around. As he led the animal down the ramp and back toward the fence, Jena followed, completely baffled by his contradictory action. She watched in silence as he took off the bridle and swatted the horse’s rump to encourage him to roam once more.

Jack didn’t say a word; he just closed the gate, then headed for his truck. Jena quickly caught up to his shuffling stride. “Wait…I’m confused. I thought you were taking the horses?”

He climbed inside the truck, its heavy metal door creaking as he shut it. Leaning out the open window, he nodded and tugged on the rim of his hat. “Sometimes we need a little distraction.”

Jena grinned. She liked this “real” Jack even better than her made up version. “Your boss is a very stubborn man.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “That he is, ma’am.” Patting the truck’s door, he started the engine, then called out as he drove off, “Nice meeting ya.”

The next morning, Jena got up at sunrise. Harm hadn’t come and gone yet, so she took care of the horses. The morning was a cool one, overcast with just a slight nip in the air. She knew it wouldn’t last; the Texas sun would soon burn off the coolness, so she saddled a horse and took advantage of the nice morning, heading down her drive to take a path alongside the main road.

After a couple hours of exploring side roads, it started to drizzle. Jena made her way back to the main road.
So much for painting today.
Just as she turned down the road that led to her drive, she had to quickly jerk her horse onto the low embankment. An old truck zoomed past at breakneck speed, wet dirt splattering behind its wheels and up onto the plastic-covered big screen TV anchored down in the truck bed.

Yelling after the reckless driver, she eased the horse back onto the road. The drizzle turned to light rain as she continued toward her drive.

She paused for a second when she saw Harm’s truck parked beside the barn. Didn’t he notice she’d done the chores already? Had he discovered his foreman came by yesterday? She had a feeling Jack wouldn’t volunteer that information, so why was he still here? Curious, she nudged her horse into a faster pace, trotting the rest of the way up the drive.

Once she didn’t find Harm in the barn, she glanced toward the house, wondering if he was inside, but her gaze caught on his boot print impressions in the damp ground leading away from the barn.

Jena quickly tied the horse’s reins on a post inside the barn, then grabbed an umbrella from her car. Before the rain washed away Harm’s path, she followed it.

The rain started coming down harder just as she spied Harm a few feet in the woods off a side road. He was lowering something with red hair into a shallow hole he’d dug in the ground. Emotion welled when she realized it was the Irish Setter she’d seen that boy chasing not that long ago. Had he accidently hit the poor dog?

She watched in silence as Harm used the shovel she’d seen hanging on the wall in her barn to shovel the dirt back onto the makeshift grave.

When he was almost done, he glanced up and caught her gaze. Anger, not regret, filled his expression before he returned to his task.

Harm had just finished covering the grave as the sound of the boy calling, “Gimp, where are you boy? We have to head back. Gimp!” echoed around them. The voice resonated from the same direction Jena had come, sounding agitated, and the boy was getting closer.

As Harm stepped onto the road next to her, Jena lowered the umbrella behind her to block the view of the shovel laying on the disturbed ground just as the kid came around the bend.

The boy paused for a second, his eyes wide with surprise at seeing them on the road, but then he quickly approached. “Have you seen Gimp running around, Harm?”

The rain made a dull thudding sound on the brim of Harm’s hat as he shook his head and slid his dirt-covered fingers into his back pockets. “Sorry, Jacob. Haven’t seen Gimp today.”

Frustration flickered in the boy’s eyes. “I’ve got to get him. I’m supposed to already be home. We’ve got errands to run. Dad’ll be ticked that I made him late.”

Thunder rumbled and Harm looked up right as lightning streaked across the darkening sky. Returned his gaze to the boy, he said, “You should head back home. It’s not safe to be in the woods with lighting going on.”

“But Gimp—”

“He knows the way home. Now go on,” Harm countered in a gruff voice.

Jacob started to turn away, then glanced at the open umbrella Jena held. “Don’t look like it’s doin’ ya much good like that.”

Jena shrugged and offered a wry smile. “I’m already wet at this point.”

Shaking his head at her, the boy took off running back up the road.

Once Jacob was out of sight, Jena pulled the umbrella back over her head and started back toward the barn.

She’d just removed the saddle and pad, then picked up a towel to dry the wet horse when the barn door creaked with Harm’s entrance. She heard him hook the shovel back on the wall, but didn’t turn away from her task of rubbing the wet horse down.

Thunder rumbled and the rain beat down on the barn’s roof. Its fierce wind buffeting against the barn’s heavy door reminded her of that night together with Harm. She took a deep breath and shook off the memories, rubbing along the horse’s back in fast circles.

Harm’s solid frame spread across her back as his hand landed on hers. Even through their wet clothes she could feel his warmth. “I didn’t hit his dog, Jena.”

She stilled herself and tried not to let his hard frame hovering close affect her. “It was probably that truck with the TV in the back. The driver was crazy. He almost ran into me on the road a half hour ago.”

Harm’s hand tensed over hers for a second. Releasing her, he didn’t step back as he answered in a terse tone. “That was Jacob’s father.”

Jena stepped away and faced him, shocked. “Are you serious?”

Harm’s jaw muscle jumped and anger flared anew in his gaze. “I heard him in town yesterday at the store ranting about his family dragging him down. Claimed he was going to just up and leave them first chance he got. I was on my way to your place when I saw him hit the dog.”

Jena blinked, her heart aching for Jacob. “So the boy just lost his father too?”

Harm’s mouth twisted, his eyes darkening in intense dislike. “Believe me, they’re better off. Molly’s strong. She’ll prosper without that leech around.”

She tilted her head and considered him for a second. “You just lied to that boy’s face.”

Harm stiffened. “Hell yeah, I lied. He doesn’t need to know his father mowed his dog down like a weed he couldn’t wait to eradicate on his way out of town. There’s no reason to break the kid’s heart.”

Sure she understood why, but how could Harm not see the irony. She couldn’t help but raise her eyebrow.

“What?” Harm asked, but when she just stared at him, his face hardened and his gaze narrowed. “Don’t even try to tell me you lied because you didn’t want to break my heart. A guy you
just
met.”

Actually, yeah it had been for his benefit—at least partially—but Harm wouldn’t believe her. Jena shook her head and turned back to drying the horse. It’d been for her benefit too, so why not tell him that part at least. “No, I was trying not to break mine. You made it clear you didn’t believe in happy-ever-afters. And I think there’s someone out there for everyone. I wanted to believe you were the kind of guy who
could
believe. That you were capable.” Glancing over her shoulder, she sighed at his stony expression and continued, “Yes, I was wrong to lie to you. I deeply apologize for that.” Turning back to the horse, she ran the towel from his neck all the way to his rump. “But I won’t apologize for holding onto my beliefs, no matter how naïve they seem to you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get this work done so I can drive into town. I have some errands to run.”

Without another word, Harm turned and walked out of the barn.

* * *

Jena hadn’t spoken to Harm in a couple of days—not anything of consequence at least. The last two mornings, he’d arrived right around sunrise—her preferred time to take care of the horses—and they worked on their respective animals until the job was done. If Harm needed one of the grooming brushes or the tool to clean pebbles from his horse’s hooves, he asked and she handed it over, or visa versa. She assumed that was as close to a compromise as she was going to get from him on the horse issue, but his quietness was getting to her.

On one hand, it felt like they’d turned a corner, but on the other, she was beginning to believe they’d taken twenty steps back. The more she thought about it, the more Harm’s calm politeness was grating on her last nerve. Here they were, halfway through their second day of civility—acting like strangers working on their horses side by side at a boarding stable—and she was pretty sure she had fresh grind marks on her back teeth. 

Blowing her hair out of her face, she chanced a glance at Harm as he bent to brush Ranger’s chest and belly one last time. Wearing a dark green t-shirt, Harm’s corded forearm muscles flexed with his movements, while his faded Wranglers’ soft denim cupped his butt like they were made just for him.

She shook her head to clear the wayward thoughts that instantly took her back to their night together, then lifted her gaze to his profile. He hadn’t shaved this morning and the stubble on his face, a shade darker than his hair, only made him look more irresistibly rugged. How could one man look so good? Harm seemed completely oblivious to her appreciative perusal; he stayed focused on his task, his face perfectly impassive as he worked.
What was going on in his head?

Finally, she couldn’t take it any more. She didn’t care if she pissed him off, but she wanted to know why he was being so even-tempered. Was he working some new kill-her-with-politeness angle in the hopes he’d get her to sell? This Harm was a far cry from their earlier interactions, and she wasn’t at all sure she liked or trusted him. Clearing her throat, she opened her mouth to speak when his phone rang.

“Hey Jack. Yeah, I’m interested in buying a couple more stallions. I know space is getting slim, so only two for now. Can Hank come by in an hour? All right. Be there in a few.”

As Harm ended the call, Jena exited her stall and walked into his horse’s stall. Holding out her hand for the brush, she said, “Go. I’ll take care of the rest.”

His brows pulled together. “Are you sure? I can come back later.”

She sighed. “Of course. Take care of whatever business you need to.”

“Thanks, Jena.”

As Harm set the brush in her hand, the barest contact of his fingers brushing her palm sent tingles jumping along her arm. Jena dropped her gaze as the goose bumps that quickly followed raised the tiny hairs on her skin.

Her breath caught when Harm released the brush to trace his finger along the side of her arm, pressing the raised hairs back into place. She’d never been so deeply affected by another man. Her emotions for him hadn’t changed one bit since that night—well, so long as she ignored the frustrated parts. Just as her gaze lifted to his, his phone rang again, breaking the tenuous, electric moment between them.

Harm turned away to pat his horse’s neck while he spoke into his phone in a low voice. “I’m coming, Jack. What? Okay, I’ll bring Ranger.”

Hanging up, he glanced over his shoulder and offered a wry smile. “Looks like you won’t need to finish up after all. Jack wants to show off Ranger. I’m convinced the man thinks the horses are his kids.”

Jena swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Harm acted as if he’d never touched her. Had she imagined the intimate moment? Maybe he’d been brushing dirt off her arm and meant nothing else by it. Forcing an unaffected smile, she nodded and backed out of the stall. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Harm held her gaze for a second. “When is your brother coming into town again? He mentioned he’d be back last time I talked to him.”

Was he hoping to get her brother to convince her to sell? He had been talking about a lack of space for his horses. Everything inside her seized up. He may as well have thrown a cup of cold water in her face. New angle, same goal. Damn, she hated being right. “He’ll be here next week.” Tilting her head, she continued, “You really can’t operate on middle ground, can you?”

He frowned. “No. The house—”

“Won’t be included in the deal,” she cut him off. “I told you I’d sell you a portion of the land, Harm. You’ll get the space you need for your horses,” she managed to finish in an even tone even though she shook with anger inside.

He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head before turning to retrieve Ranger’s saddle and pad from the saddle rack.

* * *

The entire time he’d been working alongside Jena the last couple of days, all Harm could think about was how good she’d smelled and felt in his arms that night they’d spent together. That one night of utter bullshit! The past few weeks had been easier to wallow in his anger, to roll around in its thick protection and coat himself good so Jena wouldn’t wiggle her way inside his head once again. Keeping her squarely pegged as the conniving, self-serving woman who’d used him as her own personal entertainment toy, a woman whose lies he’d been fool enough to buy into like a blinded idiot, had mostly worked to dampen his attraction for her.

Until yesterday.

What she’d said about her reasons for lying—that she wanted to believe he was capable of believing in a happy-ever-after—pretty much jerked the rug of indignant righteousness out from under his boots. She’d even called him Tin Man. Did she really believe he didn’t have a heart? Or was she just messing with his head yet again, pulling her wily feminine strings and pushing his buttons to convince him he was totally at fault in how everything between them turned out? Damn the woman twisted him up; he wasn’t sure what he felt anymore.