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her excuses, he rode the long way around the path, ending up in front of his own house and calling for his butler to take care of the horse.  He normally preferred to rub down his mounts and ensure that they were well fed after he’d ridden them, but in this instance, he had plans to make, calls to put through. 
    The woman thought s he could get away after making a comment like that?  She didn’t know him very well. 
    Rachel rode right back to the stables, wanting to head back to her apartment.  But she couldn’t do that.  First of all, she hadn’t seen her father in several weeks and she knew he was lonely.  Secondly, if she ran back to the city, Rais would know that he’d gotten to her.  He might think her departure was proof that he had some sort of power over her.  She couldn’t let him think that way.  So she stayed, ready to keep her distance, but also wanting to show him that she wasn’t affected by him, that she didn’t need to run and hide about his statement. 
    T hinking that the safest place to avoid Rais would be hanging around the other stable help , she unsaddled Dolce, rubbed her down and then sent her out to the pasture to have fun .   When she was finished, she looked around for her father, saw him working with one of the vets and gave him space.    “Hi Jim,” she said to one of the other stable hands as she patted the horse he’d been working with into the pasture to follow Dolce .  “Want some help?” she asked, taking one of the pitchforks off of the wall and moving into one of the other stalls, not waiting for an answer. 
    It was a dirty job, but the horses needed a clean area in which they could sleep and stay warm at night so mucking out the stalls just had to be done.  They stayed in the pasture as much as possible so they could get exercise and freedom, but they came into the stables overnight.  She enjoyed the work e d because it was hard and made her muscles sore.  But more to the point, Jim was a good guy with lots of funny quips about working with horse manure and pitchforks and he made her laugh, forgetting for the time her conversation with Rais down by the creek .  
    She was on her third stall when she heard an angry voice in the doorway.  “What the hell are you doing?” Rais demanded, hands on his hips as he watched her with furious eyes.
    Rachel spun around to look ed up at him, trying to hide the shaking she instantly felt when he was close not to mention that the man’s anger was more than a little intimidating .  Pretending that she wasn’ t affected, she shrugged and turned away from him.  “I’m making toast,” she replied with a ridiculous sense of humor .  She didn’t bother to answer him honestly because what she was doing was obvious.  “And you’re in my way,” she said as she bent to pick up a dark pile of something unnamed from the corner before turning to load it into the wheelbarrow, only to find him standing in front of it, looking like he might explode with fury at any moment. 
    “You will not be doing this kind of labor,” he growled out.  He took the pitchfork from her hands and dropped it onto the dirt floor.  Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her out of the stall.  “You there!” he called out to Jim who was just pushing another wheelbarrow out of a stall several down from where they stood.  “Finish up in here and make sure this woman doesn’t do any kind of work like this again!”
    Jim was in his twenties and had only been working on the farm for about two years.  So he didn’t have the kind of tenure that the other stable hands had with Rais and was terrified.  He nodded his head quickly then hurried into the stall and took over the pitchfork. 
    She was so angry at Rais for scaring the younger employ ee that she spun around to confr ont him, yanking her wrist out of his grip.  Or tried to.   He wasn’t letting her go so she just glared up at him.  “That was unnecessary and the work has to be done, Rais