Winning Heart. Laura Browning

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ was keeping an eye on her. The truth was he was the one watching. Thomas would have turned her away when she couldn’t give him a reference, but as far as Nelson was concerned, being fired by the Southards was perhaps the best reference she possessed.

      He’d clamped his jaw shut to keep from laughing out loud when she slipped into the story about the kid’s car. After he stripped off his clothes and sat on the edge of the bed to get the painkillers, he thought of her again. Wynter was like a rough-cut stone, edges and hidden facets waiting to be drawn out. A few flashes of her potential were already obvious in that gorgeous auburn hair and creamy complexion. Given the right advantages, she’d be a knockout.

      There was more to her, though, than just looks. He saw how hard she worked. She was the first one there in the morning and from what he had observed, the last one to leave at night. Character. It was rough, but it was there, and it was what kept his thoughts coming back to her again and again. Nelson learned enough concerning Wynter O’Reilly to know she needed to stay. The most important thing he’d discovered was as much as Payton Southard the Third might consider her trailer trash, he desired her.

      Nelson rubbed the aching muscles in his scarred right leg, thinking and considering the possibilities. Perhaps there was more he could do than ruin Southard. If he turned their duckling into a swan, it might be an even sweeter revenge. Just how much would it irk snobs like the Southards to see the stable girl they’d fired taken under the wing of Nelson Anderson? Very closely under his wing.

      * * * *

      It took Wynter a few minutes to realize where she was when she woke up. When it dawned on her, she sat bolt upright and looked around. Panic hit her like a punch in the gut. She was late. The rising sun was already lightening the sky outside Nelson Anderson’s study window.

      She jumped off the couch and snatched her jeans back up before throwing on the rest of her clothes. After jamming on sneakers, she plaited her thick hair in one long braid down her back. When she glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel, another wave of panic shot through her. Almost six. An hour late. Shit.

      Her first instinct was to dash out of the house, but then she saw the crumpled blankets and pillow from where she’d slept. Some things her mother had ingrained all too well. Her hands shook while she folded the blankets and laid them on the couch. After setting the pillow on top, she darted down the hallway. The house was still quiet when she slipped out the front door, eased it shut and ran down the drive.

      The barns stood almost a half-mile away. Wynter was in full-fledged panic now. She rounded the bend that would bring her in sight of the barns when the nose of Anderson’s Rolls glided around the corner at the same time from the opposite direction.

      She couldn’t stop. The car swerved as she tried to leap sideways, and her hip slammed into the fender before she stumbled backward to the trees. A cedar branch grazed one cheek, but otherwise, the dense foliage cushioned the worst of the fall. Even so, the impact knocked the breath out of her. She heard the car door fly open and the incessant beep from the ignition alarm.

      “Wynter!”

      She rolled over and struggled to a sitting position when she heard his feet hit the pavement. “Stop!” She gasped and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m fine! Don’t get out.”

      He cursed so vividly even Wynter was taken aback. “Come here, damn it, so I can see you’re okay.”

      Wynter pushed out from the cover of the dense cedar trees and limped over to Anderson’s side.

      “See?” Her irritation turned to concern when she saw how pale his face was. “Are you all right?”

      “You’re bleeding,” he mumbled.

      “It’s just a scratch.” She swiped it with the back of a hand. “What were you doing? I thought you were still asleep.” She glanced toward the barn. “I gotta go. I’m late.”

      The color returned to his face, but he still seemed distracted when he said, “I went down to explain to Thomas. You’re fine. No one else is there yet.” His voice once again assumed its usual commanding tone. “Get in. I’ll take you back down there.”

      “You don’t…”

      “Wynter,” he snapped.

      “Fine.” She did her best to stomp around the car, but each footfall shot pain through her bruised hip. She winced when she bent to get in.

      “You are hurt,” Anderson accused.

      “Just a bruise. I’ll be fine,” Wynter replied and stared out the window.

      This wasn’t how she had planned the morning. She wanted to be cool and polite, able to thank him for how kind he’d been. She sighed in frustration. Instead, she had come off looking like a total idiot. Again. “Just take me to the barn, please. I have work to do.”

      They didn’t speak anymore on the way. Wynter got out with a mumbled thanks and heard him backing the car to head to the house. When she walked through the barn door, Thomas was there measuring feed. He glanced up and set the feed scoop back in the barrel. Wynter jammed her hands in her jeans pockets and scuffed the toe of one sneaker.

      “Sorry I’m late,” she muttered, half expecting the taciturn Scotsman would give her the sharp side of his tongue. She’d heard him berate one of the grooms the other day. Thomas Sinclair possessed a very creative grasp of the English language and could dress someone down without a foul word ever uttered.

      “I’ve already given the horses their hay. You can do the grain and the water, lass.” The surprise must have shown because for a moment, the older man softened and said, “Mr. Anderson explained your situation.”

      Wynter nodded in embarrassment, face averted.

      “You’re a hard worker, Wynter O’Reilly. I’ll give you that. So let’s give it another week, this time with food and shelter, and see how you do.”

      She turned with a quick, grateful smile and nodded. “Thank you. You won’t be disappointed. I promise.”

      Sinclair grinned. “I know I won’t. You’ll be living in the apartment over the barn. Mr. Anderson’s orders.”

      Wynter shook her head. She had seen how much people charged for such apartments, even if they were small, and she needed every extra penny to help cover school costs loans and grants wouldn’t cover. “I can’t afford it.”

      “Rent’s free. Mr. Anderson says that’s in return for the additional security you’ll provide being around the barn all the time.”

      She started to protest and then closed her mouth. The two of them had figured everything out so she could have no reasonable objection. Truth was, it sounded almost too good to be true. A real apartment. And free meant more school money.

      “Thank you,” she said at last, pushing aside pride for practicality.

      Thomas smiled again as he headed for the door. “I gassed up your truck too.” He stopped with his hand on the knob. “Look, lass, if you run into trouble, Mr. Anderson’s a good man. He’ll help.”

      She nodded. After he left, she stood in the feed room and blinked away hot tears. Never had she met people like this, except maybe Wythe. Based on her experience, rich people were like the Southards and the Butlers. They СКАЧАТЬ