Something to Talk About. Joanne Rock
many more are you going to take out?” a child’s voice called to him.
Robbie turned to see a scrawny kid watching him from the fence around the practice yard. His spiky dark hair was lighter at the tips, and the boy looked like a mini surfer dude with his tanned skin and board shorts. He wore flip-flops and a faded T-shirt under an open sweatshirt.
Robbie couldn’t remember seeing him around before, although with Quest’s extensive staff, there were certainly plenty of kids who lived on the property.
“Who wants to know?” Robbie strode closer to the fence, not minding a break. Besides, he’d served enough time standing at that fence all by himself in his youth to appreciate being the odd man out.
Hell, for that matter, welcome to his life today. He never had quite caught up to Brent and Andrew, his two older brothers, in the old man’s eyes.
“Kiefer Emory.” The boy straightened his skinny shoulders, though his feet remained planted on the lowest wooden rail. “I’m learning about horses. You sure ride a lot of ’em.”
Robbie couldn’t identify the accent, which didn’t have the softened vowels of a Kentucky native.
“I’m a hands-on trainer, so I like to ride them to test their skills.” He leaned against the fence and soaked up the September sun. His hungover eyes finally seemed to be recovering from the perpetual squint he’d had earlier in the day. “And I’m Robbie Preston, by the way. Nice to meet you.”
Kiefer shook his hand with unexpected seriousness, like a mini grown-up. When he didn’t say any more, Robbie prodded him.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Do your parents work at Quest?”
“My mom started as the new office manager. We moved from Los Angeles last week.”
That explained the surfer-dude clothes. And Robbie remembered his own mother mentioning a new hire for the position. She’d decided to take a chance on the woman from L.A. because she was a widow.
A damn young widow if this kid was anything to go by. The idea of the boy hanging out at the rail by himself bugged Robbie.
“Welcome to Kentucky. And if you want to learn about horses, you’ve come to the right place.” He was about to invite the boy into the stables to see the horses close up when a flash of color caught his eye.
Looking up, he spotted the woman he’d seen speaking to Marcus yesterday. Only now, all traces of her easy laugh had disappeared. She charged toward them with determined steps, her jaw set and her lips compressed into a flat, disapproving line.
“Kiefer,” she called the moment she got within hearing range and then hastened her pace. “You’re supposed to be with Max at the after-school program here.”
The boy turned, hopping off the fence rail as his mother reached them, her silky blouse and flowered skirt fluttering lightly in the breeze.
“But I told you I was coming here to watch the horses after I got off the bus. Remember?” Kiefer gestured toward the fence rail.
Or…toward Robbie?
“Ah.” The woman seemed to notice him then, her sharp brown gaze taking him in with the careful perusal of a protective mother and not even an ounce of feminine interest.
His ego definitely would have smarted if not for his knowledge that she’d lost a husband. He had no idea how long ago that might have happened, but he couldn’t imagine the pain of losing someone that close to you.
“Robbie Preston, ma’am.” He held out a hand to her, strangely eager for her to take it.
He’d noticed her yesterday and remembered her after only a quick sighting. That was unusual for him. Not that he didn’t attract his fair share of female attention. But he’d been so focused on work the last few years—so hell bent on winning family approval and the chance to head up Quest’s training program—that he hadn’t spent much time dating. His relationships had been low-key and often pursued by the ladies who wanted them.
For a woman to turn his head without even trying was a new experience. Especially a widow with a son. Hell, his hangover must have scrambled his brains.
“Amanda Emory.” She took his hand as briefly as possible, her short pink nails barely registering before her hand was back at her side. “I’m the new office manager and I’m so sorry if my son has been pestering you.”
She looped an arm around the boy as if to whisk him away from a big, bad dragon.
The thought gave him pause. Had she been listening to family gossip about his supposed hothead nature? The idea rankled.
“He’s been no trouble at all. In fact, I was just—”
“It won’t happen again, I promise.” She backed away, her short, sharp heels sinking into the soft earth while her skirt billowed gently around her legs.
Damn it.
“Mrs. Emory—” The name didn’t sit right on his tongue and it didn’t stop her anyway. He raised his voice slightly. “Amanda.”
That one stopped her. She looked up at him again as if seeing him for the first time. And whoa. His ego was a hell of a lot more pleased with this encounter.
But before he could ask her a damn thing, she shuttered those pretty dark eyes and seemed to shake her head no.
“Sorry,” she said. “I need to return to the office since I hate to make a bad impression my first week on the job.” She offered him a half smile, but he noticed she never relinquished her firm—protective—hold on her son.
“I just want you to know I’d like to show Kiefer the stables sometime. If he’s interested in horses it’s something he won’t want to miss.” He grinned at the kid, recognizing he carried more clout with the boy than the mom.
Kiefer perked up as though he’d gotten a present.
“Can I, Mom?”
“Not today, but thank you very much, Mr. Preston.” Her feet kept moving, out of range, out of the influence of the legendary Robbie Preston temper.
Damn it, she had to have heard rumors to have lit out of there so fast. He watched her walk away, the gentle sway of her hips beneath her fluttery skirt drawing his eye despite his foul mood. He needed to get back to his work and not let the encounter bother him though.
Because, no matter what Marcus said about always being on the lookout for the next big champion, Robbie wasn’t leaving matters to chance. He’d ride every horse in the stables to see what kind of new talent was on the rise.
After all, horses were a damn sight easier to understand than women, and Robbie planned to stick to what he knew best.
Amanda remembered her meeting with the youngest Preston with a mixture of regret and embarrassment during her lunch hour the next day as she observed three of the stable’s trainers work with their horses in the practice yard. From the safety of the office window, she could view one particular man without him knowing.
And heaven help her, she wanted to watch.
She didn’t feel embarrassed about that because she wasn’t ready to date. Or at least she hadn’t thought she was. It had thrown her for a big-time loop the day before when her heart had started palpitating over a man so much younger than her.
How could forty-year-old hormones not have better judgment when they had finally decided to kick in after a two-year nap? She closed her eyes and remembered her husband’s face—a face still so beloved, but, dear heaven, it had been achingly long since she’d touched him. Heard his voice beside her in bed at night.
She knew Dan would never have wanted her to be alone for the rest of her life, so it wasn’t guilt she felt. Maybe it was more a matter of not wanting to give any spare time to a relationship when her kids deserved all that she—as a single parent—could possibly