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are up to snuff.”
    â€œI can’t pay for that.”
    â€œDon’t worry about the pay right now.”
    â€œI don’t take charity.”
    â€œBut you take donations, right?”
    She frowned. “Is that some kind of Ranger trick question?”
    Anderson let out a grunt of irritation. “It’s a simple question. You have sponsors and people who support this place, right?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œWell, then, add my name to the list. Besides, I have to look the part of a security expert.”
    She stopped next to a storage building and turned to the spigot and big industrial sink, then started dumpingbuckets off the wheeled wagon she’d used to feed the penned animals. “So you’re an animal lover?”
    â€œI am. I’m as fond of animals as the next man, I reckon. Although my tendency runs toward mutts in stead of alligators. We have several interesting adopted dogs on our property.”
    â€œWell, in that case, thank you, Mr. Ranger-man, for your kind donations and…I’m sure Boudreaux and Bobby Wayne will appreciate it, too.”
    â€œAnd how about you? Will you appreciate it?”
    â€œOf course I will,” she said, her actions telling him she was chafing underneath his intense questions. Water splashed and gurgled as she moved the spray hose over her feeding buckets with a tad too much zest.
    Anderson didn’t know why he was pushing the issue. It was just a few light bulbs and some door locks. What did it matter whether she liked it or not? It was for her protection, not to win points with her. Besides, his main focus was that pond. If the cartel had already messed with her new fence, what would they do next? He had to be there to find out.
    Wanting to prolong being around her in spite of her sensitivity to accepting help and in spite of his need to stay professional, he said, “I’ll help you finish up with the horses and the stables so I can get used to things, then I’ll make a list of what I need to fix this place up.” He shrugged. “I do know my way around a stable and from first glance, this one looks to be really well-organized.”
    She finished spraying the buckets then motioned toward the big building. “But it could use some sprucing up. A group of horse lovers took it on when I startedrenovating a couple of years ago. They made the grooming buckets for each horse, organized the shelves and cabinets in the tack room and they donated galvanized trash cans for feed—to keep the other critters out. And I have a leaf blower to get rid of dust and cobwebs.” Shaking her hands to dry them, she said, “Of course, I stay so busy I don’t have time to tidy things up every day so it tends to get messy. I missed checking the tack room yesterday, but my volunteers gave me an update on the horses. I keep the tack room locked since I have medicine for the animals in there.”
    â€œI’m impressed. I’ll check everything out and see if anything needs tweaking. That is, if you don’t mind.”
    â€œI don’t mind and I’m sorry if I got testy before,” she retorted, pulling out a set of keys. “I’m learning to accept help whether I like it or not.” Motioning to him, she walked around the side of the old barn. “If you’ll put up the equipment, I’ll unlock the tack room door.”
    Anderson watched her take off, then he gathered the clean buckets and put them back on the wagon and followed her.
    Jennifer’s high-pitched shout caused him to let go of the wagon and hurry into the big barn. He found her at the door of the tack room, her hands covering her mouth.
    The room had been ransacked. Cabinet doors were swung open to reveal ointments, medications and various insect repellants, all knocked over or rearranged. The floor was covered with blankets and saddle pads, bridles and halters. And all the books and papers that had probably been on the