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“Hand, I’m looking for Rafe Grayhawk.”
Hand? Not so beautiful inside. The derision in her tone was unmistakable. He fought the urge to ignore her. He was an employee here at McCray Landing. If this woman was looking for him, she probably had a reason.
“I’m Rafe Grayhawk.”
She whipped her hands to her round hips. “I hear you can teach me to ride.”
Huh? Who is this woman anyway? She vaguely resembled his boss’s wife, though Catie was more refreshing, less “nose-stuck-in-the-air.”
“I can teach anyone to ride, honey.” He eyed her up and down. “But not in that getup. Who are you, anyway?”
“Angelina Bay. Catie’s sister. And don’t call me honey.”
Rafe held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
She didn’t return the gesture. He dropped his hand back to his side.
“I used to ride a little. I was rodeo queen quite a while ago. But I didn’t keep up with it. My daddy says if I’m going to own one of his ranches someday it’s high time I learned to ride decently. We don’t have any hands at our ranch who have the time or talent to teach me, in his opinion. Daddy wants the best. According to Chad McCray, you’re it.”
“Why not ask your sister? She’s as good a rider as anyone.”
“Clearly you haven’t heard the good news.” Angelina scuffed one sandaled foot in the dirt of the stall. “She’s expecting, and since she had a miscarriage the first time, she and Chad are being ridiculously overprotective this time.”
Didn’t sound unreasonable to Rafe. His mother had struggled with miscarriages and his father had been very protective, but Angelina’s voice registered indignation over her sister’s decision to put her pregnancy first.
Teach this piece of work to ride? Not in this lifetime.
He turned back to the horse he was currying. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. McCray expects all his hands to put in forty hours a week here.”
“I already okayed it through him. Didn’t I just say he said you’re the best to teach me? Sheesh.”
Eye roll. He wasn’t looking at her, but he knew her pupils were curving upward against her lids.
“Darlin’, you’ve got a sight to learn about askin’ for a favor.”
“I’m not asking for a favor, hand. You’ll be well paid.”
Hand again? Christ, I have a name. He turned and gazed into those eyes clear as the Mediterranean Sea. “Well paid, huh? Just how much constitutes ‘well paid’ to you?”
“Fifty dollars an hour.”
A fair price, for sure. Not worth it to put up with this prima donna, though.
“Make it a hundred.”
The porcelain hands dashed to her hips again.
“A hundred? Are you kidding me? Fifty is the going rate around here.”
“Then I’m sure you won’t have any problem finding someone else at that price. Nice meeting you.” He turned his back to her.
“But Chad says you’re the best.”
“The man speaks the truth.” Rafe smoothed the gelding’s dark mane.
“Seventy-five is as high as I’ll go.”
Rafe pursed his lips. Seventy-five dollars an hour would go a long way helping his father get out of that damned trailer park. For the last couple of years, Rafe and his brother, Tom, had been putting all their extra money towards a place in Arizona for Jack Grayhawk. Since the death of Rafe’s mother, his dad had been wasting away in that old dump. Though only fifty, he’d had to leave construction work after a debilitating injury to his hip. He could still get around, but work was out of the question. He drew a small disability pension, but it wasn’t enough. He also suffered from chronic asthma, and though Colorado weather wasn’t bad, the dryer Arizona weather and mild winters would be better. Yeah, this money would sure help. Rafe turned around and gazed at the slender woman. Spending time looking at Angelina Bay would be no hardship. Still, to put up with her attitude…
