Running Blind Read online

  “THAT COUSIN OF yours is …” Carlin searched for the right word, as she and Kat sat on stools in the kitchen and ate fat sandwiches. Their work was done for the day; the shared supper had become a ritual, one Carlin enjoyed.

  “Hot?” Kat supplied with a grin. “Having part of the same DNA doesn’t make me blind. Immune, but not blind.”

  Carlin waited until she’d swallowed the bite of chicken salad on whole wheat that was in her mouth, then she gave a decided pfft. “I was thinking of a word more like annoying.”

  Kat shrugged. “That, too. He’s a lot of things, but the one thing he isn’t, is boring.”

  “He’s a cowboy, right?” The worn, scarred boots, the hard hands, the sun-browned skin made that a foregone conclusion.

  “Pretty much. He owns a good-sized ranch about an hour away.”

  “Are you first cousins?”

  “Yep. His dad and my mom were brother and sister. We grew up here together—well, almost together. He’s a few years older than I am.”

  “Zeke—is that short for Ezekiel, or something?” It was kind of an unusual name, but somehow very fitting for the area, and for the man himself.

  “Zeke’s a nickname. His real name is A.Z. Just the initials, they don’t stand for anything. But on his first day of school the teacher called him A.Z. and some of the other kids thought she was saying ‘Hey, Zeke.’ They called him Zeke and it stuck. He’s been Zeke ever since.” Kat shifted on her stool. “I don’t know what Aunt Helen was thinking when she named him. It was some family name on her side—a great uncle, I think. Maybe her grandfather, or her mother’s first cousin’s godfather. You know how it goes with families.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Carlin muttered wryly, thinking of her own name.

  Kat slanted a knowing glance at her, a look that carried more impact because of those witchy eyes. “So, you’re interested, huh?”

  “What? No!” Except she’d asked too many questions—not a lot, but about two too many. The last thing she needed in her life right now was a man, especially one who asked so many questions. So what did it matter to her if his name was short for anything? It didn’t. It couldn’t. She should keep her mouth shut, starting now.

  She shifted on her stool, put on an air of indifference. “Maybe he is a little hot, if you like the type,” Carlin conceded. Tall, hard, good-looking … yeah, that type. Woo hoo! She tamped down her reaction and blithely lied. “But he’s also a cowboy, and since you know the area and the people so well I feel honor-bound to follow your wise advice about avoiding the John Wayne wannabes.” Plus she wasn’t looking for any complications, but that went without saying.

  “You are so full of shit,” Kat said, grinning. Then her smile faded. “Okay, to be honest, I was kind of hoping that Zeke might hire you on as his cook and housekeeper. Since Libby left last year he hasn’t had much luck finding a replacement, and he’s getting desperate.”

  What? Carlin felt the floor fall out from beneath her. Kat was letting her go? Why else would she be trying to find someone else to hire her? Talk about being blind-sided—one minute she’s relaxed, happy, joking with a friend, and the next she was mentally thumbing through the atlas wondering where she’d be headed next. She’d thought she had more time to grow her savings, plus she really liked Kat and this place, damn it. But life was what it was, and she’d deal. “You don’t have to find me another job. If this isn’t working out for you—”

  “No!” Kat said vehemently. “That isn’t it at all. I love having your help, and we get along great. It’s just that I know that business slows down every winter, and when that happens I won’t have the money to pay you. We’re good for a couple more months, but I was just trying to think ahead.”

  Crap. Carlin hated to think of leaving, but she’d known all along this was temporary. “When you can’t afford me any more I’ll move on,” she said sensibly. She’d keep an eye out for a decline in business, and if Kat didn’t let her go when that happened, she’d take care of it herself. It wouldn’t be the first job she’d quit since she’d started running. Usually she just left, without a word of warning and especially without any hint where she might be heading, but then the kind of jobs she’d had generally didn’t require notice. She wouldn’t leave Kat in the lurch like that. “I don’t want to be your cousin’s nanny, anyway. He struck me as a hard man to please, and life’s too short.” Besides, he was too curious, asked too many questions, and would probably balk at the idea of paying her under the table.

  “Just as well.” Kat’s eyes gleamed. “He wasn’t keen on the idea, either.”

  Carlin’s heart thudded hard. “You already asked him?” Her tone was just short of a squeal. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat.

  “I was just feeling him out. Don’t worry, he shot the idea down pretty quick, so I didn’t even get to the details about the way you need to be paid. He’s none the wiser.”

  Out of all that, what stuck with Carlin the most was that Zeke didn’t want her on his ranch. It was perfectly all right that she didn’t want to go, but the fact that he’d dismissed her out of hand stung a bit.

  Then a memory surfaced, and she felt herself turn red with anger. She hadn’t thought anything about it at the time, but—“I came out of the kitchen for a minute while y’all were talking, and I heard him mention something about a stray. I thought maybe he was talking about a dog or a cat, but he wasn’t, was he? He was talking about me.” Brad had called her a lot of things, none of them complimentary, and hadn’t dented her at all because after just two dates she’d known something was way off about him, but knowing Zeke Decker had called her a stray roused every fighting instinct she had.

  “He didn’t mean anything by it,” Kat soothed, then she paused. “Hell, I’m not going to lie to cover his ass, but he is under a lot of stress, so try to cut him some slack.”

  Carlin wasn’t about to argue with Kat about her cousin, but she was boiling inside. Stray! He could kiss her ass.

  Jerk.

  SPENCER HAD FINALLY gotten the message about oatmeal. This morning’s breakfast had been somewhat better, though a mess of toaster waffles was no one’s idea of a great meal. Zeke had spread peanut butter on two warm, round waffles and slapped them together. The others had done the same, knowing they’d need some protein before lunchtime rolled around. At least they weren’t being served cold cereal, which held them for about two hours before they were all starving again. Thank God there had been a huge pot of hot coffee to wash the sticky mess down.

  With the hay baling behind them, the pace of his days on the ranch had eased a little. He’d managed to do some laundry, so he had clean socks and underwear. Would wonders never cease. He’d never thought he’d be so grateful to have a laundry basket full of clean underwear. The hands were at work and Zeke was just about to settle down with another cup of coffee and bank records to compare and reconcile, when he heard the bang of the kitchen door being thrown open and a frantic voice calling, “Boss!”

  Sounded like Bo, which was bad news because Bo never panicked. Boots clumped hard and fast on the floor, and Bo appeared in the open doorway to Zeke’s office, his expression urgent. Zeke was already up and on his way to the door. “What’s happened?”

  “Spencer,” Bo said simply. “Santos got him.”

  Shit! A big bull could do a lot of damage to a man; Santos didn’t have horns, but a swing of that big head could send someone flying, or a well-placed kick could break bones. Had Santos gone for Spencer after he was down? Normally the bull was calm, and like most animals behaved well for Spencer, but a bull was still a bull and not a house pet.

  Zeke pushed his way past Bo, running through the house and out the open kitchen door, toward the barn. Fuck! Spencer had been set to collect semen from Santos this morning. He’d never had any trouble before; Spencer was a much better cowboy than he was a cook.

  “How bad?” he asked, as they ran.

  “His arm’s hurt, but I can’t tell how bad it is until I can get close e