Adam (Farraday Country Book One)

Chapter Seven

The shock at the feel of Adam's fingers on her side was so startling, so charged, Meg had glanced down to see if she could blame the carpet for static electricity. Well-polished hardwood floors had gleamed back at her. No rug.

"Barn's down this path here."

For her a path would be concrete, maybe blacktop, at least some sort of cobblestone or pavers. Out here, path clearly had a different meaning. When she'd first arrived at the ranch, she'd noticed most of the surrounding lands had been drab and bland in color, only the area immediately circling the house had scattered sprigs of new green growth. Especially under the shade of the occasional tree on either side of the "path." Trampled dirt and pebbles that gave new grass little opportunity to sprout drew a line toward a massive structure not too far in the distance.

"We ride over twelve hundred head of cattle on nearly one hundred thousand acres."

A hundred thousand? "That sounds really big."

"Big is relative. You need a lot of land per head to run cattle in this part of the state. Finn's had his eye on our neighbor Ralph Brennan's property." Adam slid open the barn door and stepped aside to let her go inside first.

She noticed he gave her a wide berth and wondered if the jolt of static electricity in the house had affected him as much as it had unsettled her.

"Brennan's getting to the point where he can't take on the ranch work anymore. Dad and Finn bought out his herd and lease the land for grazing. Just today Dad and Finn had to repair some downed fence for him."

"That was nice of them."

"Neighbors look out for each other around here."

"Doesn't the man have family?"

Adam bobbed his head. "Daughter and granddaughter somewhere east. Haven't seen them in years. I doubt they'd want to take over. Brennan promised Dad ages ago, if he sells, we get first dibs, and now my brother Connor has had his eye on the place too."

"Connor? He's the marine helicopter pilot?"

"No. That's Ethan. Connor is working in oil."

"That's right." Meg nodded. "The oil rigs."

"Means to an end. He's always wanted to expand horse breeding on the ranch with his own quarter horse stock, but now I think—when he's got enough saved—he wants a place of his own. Our sister, Grace, used to do barrel racing when she was a teen. A good horse made all the difference. Training too."

"And Connor knows how to do that?"

"More than knows. The kid has always had almost a magic touch with horses." Adam led the way deeper into the barn.

From what she could tell, the building's interior resembled any number of barns or stables she'd seen on a variety of TV shows. A wide center aisle with stalls on either side. Halfway through the cavernous space, he casually pointed out the tack and feed rooms. She assumed the feed rooms held food. Tack was anyone's guess. Pausing, Adam reached into a clear container on a shelf and drew out a couple of tan chunks. "Here, put these in your pocket."

Doing as instructed, she took a closer look at the small tub. All she could make out was a carrot on the label. Before she could ask questions, Adam moved on. She hurried to keep up with his long strides. In this part of the barn the expanse between the stall doors appeared larger. "These stalls are bigger."

"They are." He nodded. "Each has a back door of sorts so no one has to circle the building to get in or out of the stall."

"Why only some?"