Her name, on the other hand, followed him everywhere he went. The staff told him Andra wanted to try crossing these bloodlines, Andra taught this horse to pick up its own fallen rein, Andra did the imprint training on this foal and this one and this one . . . and yet she was nowhere to be found when he wanted a rundown on the stock he was supposed to be working with.

The breeze kicked up dust around their boots, and Jason sneezed.

“Bless you,” LJ said automatically.

Jason nodded and kept walking. LJ wondered if it was possible to lose brain cells from lack of conversation. He’d been here only three days, and he already missed his gregarious hometown neighborhood.

He dropped his eyes as they got closer to the ranch headquarters with its raw log pillars and river rock accents. Everything was so new here, the paint all fresh and smooth without humidity creeping in under every tiny chip. He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he’d thought to paint Mama’s steps one more time before he left.

He took a breath and tried a new topic on Jason. “You know what would really help me with the colts? Balloons. Or horns, maybe, if you’ve got them.”

The other man gave him a sideways look, incredulous eyes nearly as brilliant a green as his sister’s. “You throwing a birthday party or breaking a colt?”

He shrugged one shoulder and grinned. “Hell, why not do both at once? Think we can get cake and ice cream out of it?”

“Wait, how is ice cream going to help with the colts?” Jason just looked confused.

“Uh . . . never mind.” LJ braced himself for the dinner ahead, preparing to carry the conversation for an entire family of turnips. Thank God these people’s horses had more of a sense of humor than they did, or he’d have gone barking crazy already. At least he’d gotten a couple of smiles out of Andra that first day. Apparently not enough to make her forget their rocky initial meeting, though, or she wouldn’t be avoiding him. “So what’s the occasion for dinner?”

“No occasion. Meals are provided with your wages. Didn’t they tell you when you got hired?” Jason stopped on the porch of the main ranch house and scrubbed his boot through the cleaning brush bolted to the floorboards.

“Might have missed that part.” Probably because he’d worked through dinner all three nights. Now that he was finally free to use his own training ideas without his uncle glaring over his shoulder, he couldn’t get enough time with the horses.

“Guess that explains why you haven’t been showing up. Stacia was starting to take it personally.”

“Stacia?” He followed suit on the boot scrubber.

“She’s the cook and mechanic.”