Chapter 4
Judy went still, her heart pounding wildly. She wanted to turn and assure John that Midnight wouldn’t hurt her. She longed to tell him she’d been working for days, gaining the stallion’s trust. All her life she’d had a way with animals and children. Her father claimed she could make a wounded bear her friend. Midnight had a fiery nature; it was what made him such a magnificent horse. He’d been a challenge, but she believed he’d never purposely injure her. But Judy said none of these things. She couldn’t. John’s voice had been so cold, so cutting, that she dared not defy him.
The clicking sound behind her told Judy that Midnight’s master had entered the corral. He walked past her and his clipped, even stride revealed his fierce anger. He didn’t even glance at her, and as she noticed the hard look in his eyes, she was glad.
Midnight pranced around the corral, his satiny black head held high, his tail arched, his hooves kicking up loose dirt.
McFarland gave one shrill whistle, to which the stallion responded without delay. Midnight cocked his head and galloped past Judy to his master’s side, coming to an abrupt halt. He lowered his head. With one smooth movement, McFarland gripped the horse’s mane and swung onto his back. Midnight protested violently and reared, kicking his powerful front legs.
Judy sucked in her breath, afraid that McFarland wouldn’t have time to gain control of the animal. She was wrong; when the horse planted his feet on the ground, John was in charge.
“Get out.”
The words were sharp and he didn’t so much as look at her, but then he didn’t need to. She could feel his contempt and his anger. Judy did as he said.
McFarland circled the paddock a few times before swinging off the stallion’s back and joining her at the corral gate.
“You stupid idiot,” he hissed. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her one vicious jerk. “You could’ve been killed!”
When he released her, Judy stumbled backward. Her eyes were wide with fear. In all her life no one had ever spoken to her in such a menacing tone. No one had dared raise a hand to her. Now she faced the wounded bear and was forced to admit that her father had been right—John McFarland was a beast no woman could tame.
“Who let you inside the corral?”
Her throat had thickened, making speech impossible. Even if she’d been able to answer him, she wouldn’t have. Sam had no idea she’d ever been near Midnight.
“Sam!” McFarland barked the stableman’s name.
The older man rushed out of the barn, limping. His face was red and a sheen of perspiration had broken out on his forehead.
McFarland attacked him with a barrage of swear words. He ended by ordering the man to pack his bags.
Sam went pale.
“No,” Judy cried.
McFarland turned on her, his eyes as cutting as his words. He stood no more than a foot from her, bearing down on her as he shouted, using language that made her gasp. Her eyes widened as she searched his face, attempting to hide her fear. Her chin trembled with the effort to maintain her composure as she squarely met his cold gaze, unwilling to let him know how much he intimidated her.
McFarland couldn’t make himself stop shouting at her. The boiling anger erupted like fire from a volcano. By chance, he’d happened to look out his window and he’d seen Judy as she opened the corral gate. The fear had nearly paralyzed him. All he could think of was getting to her, warning her. A picture of Midnight’s powerful legs striking out at her had almost driven him insane. He hadn’t been angry then, but now he burned with it.
McFarland could see the shock running through Judy’s veins as the pulse at the base of her throat pounded frantically. Still, the words came and he hated himself for subjecting her to his uncontrollable tantrum.
“Anyone who pulls an asinine trick like this doesn’t deserve to be around good horses,” he shouted. “You’re a hazard to everyone here. I don’t want you near my stables again. Is that understood?”
Her head jerked back as though he’d slapped her.
“Yes,” she said weakly, signaling that she’d abide by his edict.
She left him then, with such dignity that it took all his strength not to run after her and beg her forgiveness.
The air was electrified, and McFarland rammed his hand through his hair. Sam stood there, accusing him, silently reprimanding him with every breath. The older man had once been a friend; now his censure scorched McFarland.
“I’ll be out of here by morning,” Sam muttered, and with a look of disgust, he turned away.
—
The remainder of the day was a waste. McFarland couldn’t stop thinking of what he’d said to Judy, and he experienced more than a twinge of conscience. That woman had eyes that could tear apart a man’s soul. When he’d ordered her to stay away from the horses, she’d returned his look with confused pain, as though that was the last thing she’d expected. He had wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her against his chest, and feel the assurance of her heart beating close to his. Instead, he’d lashed out at her, unmercifully striking at her pride when all he’d really wanted to do was protect her.
His vehement feelings shocked him most. He tried to tell himself that Judy deserved every word he’d said. She must have been crazy to get into a pen with an animal as unpredictable as Midnight. He’d warned her about him; so had Sam. Anyone with a brain would have known better. There were times when even he couldn’t handle that stallion.
Damn! McFarland slammed his fist against the desk. He couldn’t afford to feel like this toward a woman. Any woman, but particularly Judy Lovin.
—
As she came down the stairs for dinner that evening, Judy’s stomach tightened and fluttered with nerves. Her face continued to burn with humiliation. She would’ve preferred to have dinner sent to her room and completely avoid John, but she had to face the Beast for Sam’s sake.
“Good evening, John,” she said quietly as she entered the dining room.
He stood with his back to her, staring out the window. He turned abruptly, unable to disguise his surprise. From all appearances, he hadn’t expected to see her.
“Judy.”
They stood staring at each other before taking their places at the elegant table.
Not a word was exchanged during the entire meal. In all her memory, Judy couldn’t recall a more awkward dinner. Neither had much appetite; eating was a pretense. Only after their plates had been removed and their coffee poured did she dare appeal to the man across the table from her.
“Although I’d rather not talk about what happened this afternoon, I feel we need to discuss Sam.”
John took a sip of his coffee. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he seemed affronted that she’d approach him on a matter he was sure to consider none of her business.
She clutched her napkin and forced herself to continue. “If you make Sam leave the island, you might as well cut off both his legs. St. Steven’s is his home. The horses are his family. What happened wasn’t his fault. He’d told me repeatedly to stay away from Midnight. If he’d known I’d gone into that corral, he would’ve had my hide. I snuck in there when Sam wasn’t looking. He doesn’t deserve to lose his job because of me.”
John lowered his cup to the saucer without speaking.
“Despite everything people say about you, John McFarland, I trust you to be fair.”
He arched his brows at that comment. This woman had played havoc with his afternoon, caused him to alienate a man he’d considered a friend, and now she seemed to believe that by pleading softly she could wrap him around her little finger.
“Sam leaves in the morning, as scheduled.”
Without ceremony, she rose from her chair. Her eyes steadily held his. “I see now that I misread you,” she told him. “My judgment is usually better, but that isn’t important now.” She turned to leave the room. After only a few steps, she paused and looked back. “My father once told me something, but I didn’t fully appreciate his wisdom until
this moment. He’s right. No man is so weak as one who cannot admit he’s wrong.”
By the time she reached her rooms, Judy discovered she was shaking. She sat on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes. The disillusionment was almost more than she could bear. She’d been mistaken about John McFarland. He was a wild, untamable beast—the most dangerous kind…one without a heart.
—
Several hours passed, and although John had forbidden her to go near the stables again, Judy couldn’t stay away. She had to talk to Sam, tell him how deeply sorry she was.
She changed from her dress into shorts and a T-shirt. As usual, the house was silent as she slipped down the stairs and out the front door.
Even the night seemed sullen and disenchanted. The still, heavy air was oppressive. The area around the house was well lit, but the stable was far enough away to be enveloped in heavy shadows. The moon shone dimly and provided little light.
As Judy walked along the path that led to the stables, she felt a chill invade her limbs. She longed for home and the comfort of familiarity. Folding her arms around her middle, she sighed. She tried not to wonder how long John intended to keep her on the island. Surely he’d send her away soon. After the incident with Midnight, he must be eager to get rid of her. She was a thorn in his side—a festering one.
Not for the first time did she feel like an unwelcome stranger to the island. Although she’d done everything possible to make the best of the situation, she was still John’s prisoner. In the days since her arrival, she’d struggled to create some normalcy in her life. She’d begun to feel at ease. Now that had changed. Without access to Princess, she wouldn’t be able to see the children as frequently, and with Sam’s dismissal, the other servants would avoid her, fearing they, too, could lose their positions. Loneliness would overwhelm her.
The door to the stable was open, revealing the silhouette of Sam’s elongated shadow. His actions were quick and sure, and Judy strained her ears, thinking she heard the soft trill of his whistle.
“Evening, Sam,” she said, pausing just inside the open doorway.
“Ms. Lovin.” His eyes brightened with delight, then quickly faded as he glanced around. “Ms. Lovin, you shouldn’t be here—”
“I know,” she said gently, interrupting him. “I came to tell you how sorry I am.”
He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Don’t you worry about that. It’s all taken care of now.”
The words took a moment to sink in. “You mean you aren’t leaving?”
Sam rubbed the side of his jaw and cocked his head. “I’ve never known Mr. McFarland to change his mind. A man doesn’t become as wealthy as that one without being decisive. I knew I’d done wrong to let you get close to that stallion—I figured I deserved what I got. Can’t say I agree with the way he laid into you, though, you being a lady and all, but you took it well.”
“You aren’t leaving the island?” Judy repeated, still not convinced she could believe what she was hearing.
“No. Mr. McFarland came to me, said he’d overreacted. He asked me personally to stay on. I don’t mind telling you I was surprised.”
So was Judy. She felt warm and wonderful. The sensation was so strong that she closed her eyes for a moment. She hadn’t misjudged John. He was everything she’d hoped.
“Mr. McFarland’s here now,” Sam continued, his voice low. “Midnight’s still in the corral, and he went out there. I don’t suppose you saw him or you wouldn’t be here.” The man who ruled the stables removed his hat and wiped his forehead, then gave Judy a sheepish grin. “He didn’t say anything to me about letting you in the stables again.”
“I’ll leave,” she said, unable to restrain a smile. Sam was back in John’s good graces, and she’d become a threat.
The older man paused and looked around before whispering, “You come see me anytime you want. Princess will miss you if you don’t bring her a carrot every now and then.”
Judy laughed and gently placed her hand on his forearm. “Thank you, Sam.”
He grinned in response, and she was grateful that she could count him as her friend.
Judy left the barn, intent on escaping before John discovered her presence. Her world had righted itself and there was no reason to topple it again—at least not this soon.
She was halfway to the house when she changed her mind, realizing she wanted to thank John. Like his stallion, he was dangerous and unpredictable. He was different from any man she’d ever known, and it frightened her how much she wanted to be with him. How much she wanted to thank him for not firing Sam.
John’s shadow moved in and out of the dim moonlight as she approached. As Sam had told her, he stood by the corral, one booted foot braced against the bottom rung, his arms resting on the top.
A minute or so later she joined him. “It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” she said, tentatively leaning against the fence.
McFarland tensed, his face hard and unyielding. He avoided looking at her. “There’s a storm brewing.”
“No,” she said with a soft smile. “The storm has passed.”
He gave a low, self-mocking laugh. “I asked you to stay away from here.”
“I won’t come again if you wish.”
What he wished would have shocked her all the way to those dainty feet of hers, just as it had shocked him. He liked his women spicy and hot; Judy Lovin was sweet and warm.
“I’d like to show you something,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “But I need your trust.”
He didn’t answer her one way or the other. All evening he’d been toying with the idea of sending her back to her family, and he was at a loss to understand why that no longer appealed to him. The woman had become a nuisance. She forced him to look deep within himself; she invaded his dreams and haunted his days. He hadn’t had a moment’s peace since she’d stepped onto the island.
“John, will you trust me for one moment?”
He turned his head slightly.
Standing on the bottom rung of the corral, she gave a shrill whistle that was an imitation of the one John had used earlier that day to attract Midnight’s attention.
The stallion snorted once, jerked his head, and casually walked toward her.
“Here, boy,” she said, patting his nose and rubbing her hands and face over his as he nuzzled her. “No, I don’t have any sugar cubes with me now, but I will another day. I wanted to show your master that we’re friends.”
Midnight whinnied softly and seemed to object when she stepped down and moved away.
McFarland wouldn’t have been any more shocked if she’d pulled out a gun and fired on him. She’d made Midnight look as tame as a child’s pony. His throat tightened.
“I was never in any real danger,” she explained in a low voice. “Midnight and I are friends. Most of his arrogance is show. It’s expected of him, and he likes to live up to his reputation.”
“When?” McFarland growled.
“I’ve been working with him in the afternoons. We made our peace two days ago. He’d even let me ride him if I wanted to, but he’s your horse and I wouldn’t infringe on that.”
Why not? She had infringed on everything else in his life! His peace of mind had been shot from the minute she’d turned those incredible eyes on him.
Without a word, he left her standing at the corral, not trusting himself to speak.
Hours later, unable to sleep, McFarland gazed around his still bedroom. He didn’t know what to make of Judy Lovin; she could be either angel or demon. She tamed wild animals, was beloved by children, and made his cynical heart pound with desires that were only a little short of pure lust.
—
The maid woke Judy early the next morning just as dawn dappled the countryside.
“Mr. McFarland is waiting for you, Miss.”
Judy sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Mr. McFarland?”
“He’s at the stables, Miss.”
“He wants me to go riding with
him?”
“I believe so.”
With a surge of energy, Judy tossed back the covers and climbed out of bed. “Could you please tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes?”
“Right away.”
Judy was breathless by the time she arrived at the stables. Princess was saddled and waiting for her; Midnight stood beside the mare. John appeared from inside the barn.
“Good morning,” she said brightly. He was dressed in black again, his eyes a deep indigo-blue. “It’s a glorious morning, isn’t it?”
“Glorious,” he echoed mockingly.
She decided to ignore his derision. The earth smelled fresh in the aftermath of the night’s storm. The dewdrops beaded like sparkling emeralds on the lush green foliage.
“Are you ready?” McFarland asked as he mounted.
“Yes.” She swung onto Princess’s back.
As he had the first time she’d ridden with him, John rode furiously. Judy was able to keep pace with him, but when they reached the far side of the island, she was exhausted from the workout.
He slowed, and they trotted side by side on the flawless beach.
“You never cease to amaze me,” he said, studying her. He’d ridden hard and long, half expecting her to fall behind, almost wishing she had.
“Me? I find you astonishing. Do you always ride like that?”
“No,” he admitted sheepishly.
“You must’ve been born in the saddle.”
“Hardly. I’d made my first million before I ever owned a horse.”
“When was that?”
A slow, sensual smile formed as he glanced in her direction. “You’re full of questions, aren’t you?”
“Does it bother you?”
He stared at her. “No, I suppose not.”
“I imagine you had a colorful youth.”
He laughed outright at that. “I’d been arrested twice before I was thirteen.”
“Arrested?” Her eyes widened. “But why?”
“I was a thief.” He threw back his head and laughed. “Some say I still am.”
Judy dismissed his joking. “I don’t believe that. You’re an honorable man. You wouldn’t take anything that didn’t belong to you, not without a good reason.”