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“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jules said, trying to keep the bite out of her words.
As Charla hurried up the snowy steps of the admin building, Jules wondered about the secretary and her relationship with her boss. Charla obviously had no love for Cora Sue Stanton Lynch, and Jules thought there might be a grain of envy. Because of Cora Sue’s wealth? Or the fact that she was married to the Reverend Tobias Lynch?
It was hard for Jules, head bent against the wind, to think of the preacher in sexual terms, but then, what did she know? She’d been involved with Cooper Trent when he was a low-down rodeo rider, and truth to tell, she still found him attractive.
“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath as she stomped snow from her boots on the porch of Stanton House. Glancing behind her to make sure no one was watching or following, she proceeded inside, wondering what Trent would be doing today.
Stop that. It’s over.
Whatever fascination you had with him should have died years ago.
But there it was.
Like a damned toothache, one you hoped would go away if you ignored it, though it just got worse.
CHAPTER 26
There had to be some kind of law against this kind of inhumane treatment, Shay thought. Didn’t shoveling horse manure fall under the category of cruel and unusual punishment? There had to be some child labor laws against this kind of abuse on the books!
Standing in the gray mare’s stall, Shay rammed her shovel under the steaming manure and dirty straw and scooped the dung into a half-full cart. Though it was freezing, she was beginning to sweat, probably because she was seething inside. Shoveling horse dung with Lucy and Eric was the worst!
She had hoped Jules had a plan to get her out of here. But it seemed pretty lame. What was it again? Join the staff and poke around and tell Shay to “be patient.”
She pushed her shovel again and heard it scrape against concrete. A good sign. At least this box was almost done.
But the stable was huge. There had to be thirty boxes, all of them needing to be cleaned while the horses milled around the indoor arena.
It would take forever to get it clean and spread new straw. Meanwhile, the horses would just keep fouling the place up.
Even though she was wearing thick leather gloves, she still felt the sting of blisters forming. But she didn’t dare stop or complain. Not with Flannagan popping in and out and Eric and Lucy ready to rat her out if she didn’t keep working. Her shoulders and back ached. Even her arms were protesting, though she kept herself in great shape. Worse yet, she stood ankle-deep in horse manure.
Could the juvenile detention center be worse than this? Shay doubted it. She flung another shovelful into the cart positioned in the aisle behind all the stalls and thought about sending a stray pile of dung straight at Eric’s face. But she didn’t. He was working twice as fast as she was, which only made less work for her.
“This is so unfair!” Lucy hissed from the stall of Roscoe, a dun gelding. She slid a dark look in Eric’s direction.
“I know,” Shay agreed.
“Oh, shut up, you wusses!” Eric straightened, sweat running down his face. He was about finished cleaning out Scout’s stall. “It could be worse.”
“No way!” Lucy said, always quick with a challenge. “How?”
Rolfe smirked, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. “Try it in summer, when it’s over a hundred degrees. It smells a thousand times worse, and there are flies everywhere, not just buzzing but stinging. Sometimes the shit has worms in it. Or grubs.”
“Are you trying to gross me out?” Lucy asked.
Eric snorted. “Just work and stop complaining.”
Creaking on freezing casters, the sliding door to the pasture opened, and Flannagan strode inside. “Is there a problem here?” Snow covered the shoulders of his jacket and the brim of his hat. “I hope not, because if you think I don’t have better things to do than babysit your sorry backsides, then you’ve all got another thing coming.”
“I’m fine,” Eric said, and picked up the handles of the cart to wheel it outside. “It’s just the girlies. They don’t know how to handle hard work.” He pushed the cart down the aisle and out the open door.
“He is such a pain.” Lucy sighed as the men left the building. “It’s the TAs. They all get big heads.” Lucy sent a withering look at the door. “Think they deserve to be treated differently. Like they’ve earned it or something.” Her nose wrinkled. “It’s weird, you know. Like they’re part of a secret club or something.”
“It’s no secret,” Shay said.
“I’m not talking about just being a TA. I think it’s something different. Something … I don’t know, more intense. Maybe it’s not all of them.” Lucy frowned, her pencil-thin eyebrows drawing together. “Lauren Conway, the girl who disappeared before Thanksgiving? She said there was something going on, like a cult or something, and she should have known because she was one of them.”
“A cult of TAs?” Shay almost laughed.
