The casino stood on Indian land, but Martino ran the place. On the outside, it looked almost more like a luxury hotel. Bright lights and clean lines, clay-colored stucco and a few pines and palms scattered around. The place had to pay a lot to keep the ground looking good and green.
Stepping inside, the noise of the slot machines hit her. She pulled in a breath and headed for the office. A dark-haired woman glanced at her, eyebrows raised, and Lucy asked, “Is Martino in?”
The woman shook her head.
“Can I leave a message?”
The woman shrugged. Lucy hated to leave the cash, so she scribbled a note, asked for another envelope and sealed it. She wrote Martino’s name on the outside. At least he’d know she intended to make good on her daddy’s debts—she’d clear his name if it was the last thing she did.
Heading back to the front doors, she caught sight of a familiar pair of broad shoulders. She ducked behind a bank of slot machines and angled for a better look—was that Zach?
Before she could make up her mind, a man in a suit—security to judge by the crew cut, the suit that didn’t cover all of his muscles, and the ear piece showing—stopped next to her. “Something I can help you with, miss?”
Smiling, she shook her head and started for the exit again. Outside, she leaned against the building and sucked in fresh air. So Zach liked to gamble. Well, so much for the hardworking-man image she’d had going for him. He was another drifter just looking for the fast score. She kicked herself for having saved him twice now—she should have let Sid glass him or let Zach brain himself off that ladder. Maybe she’d never learn when it came to saving others.
Heading back, she opted to skip dinner and dove into bed. She had missed working outside, but right now her muscles weren’t thanking her any.
The next morning, she rose early. Her stomach grumbled about missing dinner, so she pulled on her work clothes and headed for the kitchen. She found Zach sitting at the kitchen table, eating alone.
Pulse quick, Lucy moved to pour herself a coffee and act like no big deal—like she hadn’t seen Zach gambling last night. “Where’s Charlie?”
“She said to tell you she had to go to the store. She also packed us a picnic lunch. I told her we’re going to take the horses out today.”
“Horses? Charlie has horses?”
He pushed back from the table. “She left you pancakes on the stove. And the horses are mine. We need to ride the whole fence line.”
Grabbing a plate, she went for the pancakes. “What—you got tired of walking?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. And how unfair was it that the guys with all the charm were the ones you had to watch out for. She ate fast and drank back her coffee. Charlie had packed the picnic in a basket, but Zach moved the food to a saddle bag. They headed out to the pasture behind the farm house.
The horse trailer looked new and expensive. Lucy’s mouth dropped a little. A deluxe model, the trailer boasted a tack room, changing room, stalls to carry four horses, and room left over for feed. “You rodeo?” she asked.
“What—no. Did a little in college.”
Eyebrows raised, she stared at him. He was a college kid? A dropout? A graduate? How did that fit with him being a drifter? A cowboy who moved from place to place?
His two horses stood near the gate, looking expectantly at him. One nickered softly. Zach pulled out hay for them from the trailer and Lucy could see why the horses hung around—even with all that pasture, they were greedy, always wanting more. She grabbed a halter and asked, “Which do you want me on.”
“I’ll take the paint. You ride the sorrel.”
She nodded. The sorrel mare had soft, kind brown eyes. The paint looked like more trouble to her, with a direct challenging stare. She watched Zach catch, halter, brush down and saddle his paint, and she started to frown.
He didn’t move like a guy who’d done this a thousand times. He was too...careful. He did everything right—but it was all too right. All the cowboys she knew—herself included—tended to run a hand over a horse’s back, and unless there was mud to brush off, that was good enough. Blanket, saddle and bridle got thrown on fast. When you’d done that too many times, you just tended to cut corners.
Zach didn’t.
He wasn’t a greenhorn, but he sure wasn’t an old hand either.
He seemed to notice her watching. He gave her back a hard stare and she looked away. She stepped up onto her own horse.
Riding fence line took up most of the day. Zach had brought wire and tools to repair downed lines and patch holes. They’d ride a stretch, stop, mend fence, mount up and ride again, eyes on the fence line. The sun beat down hot and Lucy envied Zach his Stetson. She was going to have to invest in a hat sometime—sometime when she had more than twenty dollars in her pocket.
After Zach put the last mend in the barbed wire fence, he swung up on his horse. “I’m going to feel this tomorrow.”
“Not used to being on a horse all day,” she asked.
He smiled. “Let’s go find a picnic spot.”