Wanted: Sharpshooter

CHAPTER 12

  I headed home not knowing whether to laugh or cry as I drove carefully beneath the evergreens that closed the narrow, gravel roads off from any hope of sunlight except for a brief few minutes each day when the sun was straight overhead and could manage to penetrate the deep foliage. My eyes darted every way possible, searching for sight of a tawny body ready to drop onto the pickup from one of those towering evergreens, and my ears listened for that awful cry that was way too familiar. And between thoughts of the cougar, I couldn't help but recall my conversation with Brad. The farther I drove, the tighter my shoulder muscles became until a throbbing started in the back of my head.

  When I reached Green Forest, Max helped unload. “Did you talk to the warden?” I hauled an armload of oats into the barn, my headache preventing me from answering. He followed with his arms full and waited for me to answer. Finally, dumping his load on a shelf, he asked, “Did I do something wrong?”

  He probably thought I was angry about the kisses. I didn't want him to think that. Most of all I didn't want him to quit. “No, you didn't do anything.” My words were muffled as I pressed my head against the cool wall and tried not to remember Brad's words in town or how the thin material of Max's shirt was taut against his muscles. "I have a headache."

  "Oh. Sorry.” He slung bags onto the pile and returned for more. "Take it easy, then. I can finish unloading." I ignored his advice and worked alongside him until the truck was empty. Then I dropped to a hay bale and put my hands to my head because my headache was growing by the second. Max came beside me. "Turn a bit so I can get at you. I'm a great masseuse."

  I moved enough for him to share my hay bale and turned slightly. Soon his fingers were digging into the knotted muscles, finding the clenched spots, kneading the pain away. It was wonderful. "Where'd you learn that?"

  "I've had my share of headaches." His fingers moved lower, between my shoulder blades. "Your muscles are loosening up. The headache will be gone soon." Long minutes later, I was headache free but I didn't tell him to stop, didn't move away. Instead, I let him continue as his hands slowed and his fingers began moving in small, lazy circles.

  More minutes passed. His hands moved still slower, wandering over my whole back and up into my neck until they stopped, resting on my shoulders as he said, "I didn't know it was a headache. I thought you were pissed off about the other night."

  "It was a headache."

  "I thought you were going to fire me."

  “I promise you it’s nothing like that.”

  Silence for a long time. Then, in a voice I’d not have thought was Max’s he said, “Maggie, I think I like this job. I left the Army by choice and I’m sure I could re-enlist and they’d gladly take me back. But it wasn’t right for me any longer so I don't want to do that. And I worked for my aunt and uncle enough summers to know that's not what I want either. But guess what? Ranger training isn’t easily transferable to the private sector.” I listened. Bent my head so I wouldn't have to look at him and, as if on cue, his hands began their slow movements again. I couldn't help the sigh that escaped my lips.

  “I can do this job, Maggie, I know I can. I can do the physical work and I can learn about horses. Beyond those things I like working here, in the woods. It feels… right. And I know I'm not doing this whole employee thing right but I'll learn how to do it properly. I promise." His hands stopped and hesitated in the air. I wanted to tell him to keep it up but I didn't. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. The employer-employee thing which I wasn't so good at either. “So I guess what I'm saying is that I apologize for last night and promise it’ll never happen again if you'll keep me on and stop scaring me every time you come back from town.”

  I stretched. Moved my shoulders in the ecstasy of freedom from pain. Turned because I had something to say and wanted to look him in the eye when I said it. Bumped into him and almost knocked him down. Grabbed at his shirt to keep him from toppling over. Pulled him close. Righted both of us, grabbing harder and focusing on the dust motes floating between us because that was easier than meeting his eyes. “You don't have to apologize for last night.”

  "Really?" His head tilted. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes." He looked so relieved I knew I had to say more. "I'm kind of like you. New at being an employer. Guess I don't know all the rules yet." I'd never made such an admission to any of the others who'd worked for Green Forest Stables. But no one else had stayed long enough for me to say anything.

  He breathed a huge sigh and backed enough to put a comfortable distance between us, enough space for our eyes to meet without either of us being embarrassed. “Good.” He looked at the nothingness beyond my left shoulder and a smile flicked across his face, coming and going so quickly that if I hadn't been watching I'd not have seen it. But it was there, it was real, and it showed a side of Max I'd not been sure of until then. A softer side, a Max who could laugh and enjoy working hard on a lovely summer day. As I watched, he mentally hitched his jeans and exchanged the smile for a business-like scowl. “So now it's time to get some work done. If you say so. You being the boss and the one who gives the orders."

  I didn't move, choosing instead to re-examine the dust motes in the air. They were all sparkly in the single spike of sun from the stable door. “Don't worry, Max, you’re not in any danger of being fired." My face flamed. I hoped he didn't notice, didn't take my words out of context but, of course, he did.

  "I'm not?"

  "Not because of your work, not because of what happened."

  "It was morning. It just seemed right."

  "I know. I felt the same way." He gave a sigh of relief. "It's over and done with. I forgot it happened."

  "I didn't and I won't. Can't." That smile returned briefly, but this time it was tentative. "Guess that's one difference between us." Then it disappeared from everywhere but his eyes and somehow that light in the depths of his eyes was so sensual that I caught my breath as he asked, so simply that it would have been to ignore his next words. "And I hope you're okay with the fact that I find you attractive. Because if you're not, then I've got a problem and maybe shouldn't stick around after the cat's taken care of."

  My breath caught. What to say? What would a normal boss say? I played it safe. "That's up to you, of course."

  He folded his arms. "You're not very helpful."

  I stumbled all over myself trying to explain. "I'm the boss and you're the employee." I gazed over his shoulder at the forest beyond the open stable door.

  "Who thinks his boss is attractive." Neither of us spoke for a moment. "What I'd like to know is whether that's an insurmountable problem. It could be the deciding factor later on."

  The conversation was quickly getting out of hand. Then I remembered what the warden had said about the cougar and steered the conversation that way in order to cool things down. Or avoid answering.

  I repeated what the warden had said, ending with, “It's a wounded, rogue animal. Old wound, most likely, healed but probably in a way that makes it harder for the cougar to hunt. So it looks for easy prey. Which makes it even more dangerous than if it was unhurt.”

  His eyes caught fire and warmed me across the distance between us. He knew what I was doing. "So you did talk to the warden?" His lips pursed and his arms crossed but whatever might have happened between us if I'd not mentioned the cougar evaporated in the bright sunlight.

  At that moment, Carlos appeared. “You guys done yet?”