Carousel (35 page)

She turned her face to the window, watching the scenery go by, but her mind returned again to that night in Nicholas's study. Even after she had admitted that she recalled his promise, he hadn't let her go. No, they had remained in the study the rest of the long night. As the thunder rolled outside, they had made love again and again, but not one time lying down.

As dawn lightened the sky, he had asked her to marry him. Actually, he had demanded. She had tried to warn him, reminding him she didn't know the rules by which they played this time travel game, but he wouldn't listen. She smiled as she recalled his mention of the honorable thing; how she owed it to him since she already badgered him like a wife; already shared his life like a wife, and would forever have his undying love-- like a wife. She had finally relented, under one condition--Wind Dancer had to win the Kentucky Derby.

Even that hadn't deterred Nicholas, and so here they were, on a southbound train for Louisville, and the very first
Running for the Roses.

When she had written a very generic letter to the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs in Louisville back in March, she had no idea whether the race even existed. In the meantime, Nicholas had continued to train Wind Dancer, stating he was the fastest thoroughbred on the continent and she had better be picking out a wedding dress.

The letter had come the first week in April from a Col. Meriwether Lewis Clark, who appeared quite pleased that they had heard about his race as far north as Philadelphia. He explained in his letter that the facilities, only recently named Churchill Downs in honor of a relative on whose land the track had been built, would be the site of the first race of this kind on May seventeenth. They were only allowing fifteen horses to race, they had to be three-year-olds, and Col. Clark insured them a slot in the field.

He closed the letter by issuing a personal invitation to visit him while they were in Louisville. He indicated a curiosity as to how they had found out about the race and all the particulars that only a few people in Kentucky had known. She grimaced at that notion, but Nicholas laughed, assuring her that the questions would disappear in the wake of Wind Dancer's performance.

She shook off her daydreams and rose from the hard train bench, hoping for a moment of fresh air. There were apparently no rules on these early trains about smoking, spitting tobacco, or even drinking, and after the hours and hours they had been riding, she needed to get away from all the male passengers.

When they had first boarded in Philadelphia, Jaci had been excited. She had never ridden a train, even Amtrak, and the idea of riding an authentic 1875 locomotive thrilled her, but that had been days ago. They had debarked overnight only once, in Charleston, Virginia, and she had sighed in relief to see the soft feather mattress at the hotel.

Mackey had stayed at the stable with the horses, for they had brought both Wind Dancer and Sabet. Nicholas felt that Wind Dancer would fair better with a stable mate on this long journey. Tom and Sam had stayed with Mackey--the two stable boys responsible for exercising the horses whenever the train stopped for fuel or water. Sam would also ride Wind Dancer in the race.

As the train kept up steam and headed westward, Jaci's stomach knotted as tightly as her hands clutched the rail which ran around the small platform between cars. She had dreaded leaving Wildwood and Amanda. It was the first time she had been away for an extended period since her arrival in this century. She almost felt Amanda was an anchor in this century, without which she would disappear. Nicholas kept reminding her it was not a person, but the carousel animal that threatened their love, and even that could no longer hurt them.

Anxious to reassure herself, she continued through the passenger cars until she reached the freight car especially designed to stable the horses on this long trip. An associate of Nicholas's had provided the special car, at no little expense, to insure the Wildwood horses arrived in Louisville safely. The man had brooked no argument, stating that Pennsylvania must be represented at this southern race in style. Nicholas's horses rode in more comfort than did some of the passengers.

She sniffed when she entered the compartment. The sweet smell of hay and alfalfa assailed her nostrils, and the horses whinnied softly in greeting. She had already seen the boys, herded by Mackey, go towards the passenger compartment with the food hamper she had packed. That guaranteed Nicholas remained alone with the horses.

Not that she wanted to seduce him or anything. A smile touched her lips. They spent more time making love on anything other than a bed, but it wasn't the physical act of making love that she needed right now. What she needed most was simply the touch of his hand, and to curl into his warmth--anything to let her know that what they shared was real.

How she managed to keep from waking him, she'd never know, but when she came around the edge of the furthest stall, Nicholas remained sleeping, sprawled on the hay. She stared at his cherished features, searing yet another imprint on her brain for later--when she no longer had his closeness. She gradually became aware of his slight snore- -something she hadn't noticed before. It caused her to smile.

She hugged herself, wondering when her dreams would evaporate. Each new wonder in their relationship also brought pain and fear of ending. She had thought when she saved him from drowning, that incident would open her window to return to Dallas. Afterwards, she considered his ability to walk again to be the point at which he didn't need her and she'd go back. Now, each new day brought joy at having time to spend with him, and a building fear that it would be their last day together.

She didn't know the rules and there was no way to predict when it would happen. All the times she thought a window would open hadn't, and now she prayed it wouldn't. Perhaps she was the one time traveler
they
forgot about and she could simply live her life. Perhaps...

Should she wake him? She needed him desperately at that moment. Her skin longed for his touch. Her soul craved his comfort, but he looked so peaceful. His hair had come loose from its tie and lay in wild disarray, yet it made him look more youthful. He had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his vest, and his coat hung from a nail by Wind Dancer's stall.

"Are you going to stand there all night and stare at me, or come over here where I can touch you?" His sleepy voice caressed her, and even over the racket of the train's wheels against the track, she heard the longing. Her own ache grew; she needed him to take away her fear.

Hip to hip, she fitted herself against him, regardless of the straw and wrinkles she knew she'd have. She tucked her shoulder under his arm, laid her head on his chest, and wrapped an arm across his waist. Still not satisfied, she draped a leg over his.

"Are you staking your claim?" he teased, but she didn't feel like laughing.

"Aren't you scared at all, Nicholas?" she whispered, afraid to raise her voice for fear of shattering the fragile dream she had woven around them.

"Of what--losing Wildwood?" He shrugged. "No, I feel very confident Wind Dancer will win and the money will pay off the debts." She felt him turn and place a kiss on top her head. "Thanks to your knowledge of the Kentucky Derby."

That wasn't what she meant. "What about--what about us?"

He laughed aloud at that. "Why, Miss Eastman, have you forgotten your promise already?"

She turned to rest her chin on his chest. "Nicholas, I haven't forgotten one second of all the time I've been at Wildwood. But don't you see--what if I don't stay?"

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Shh, I won't listen to that."

"But--"

"Do you love me, Jaci?"

She didn't know where he headed, but answered immediately. "You know I do."

"How much?"

"With my life," she stated emphatically.

He dragged her across him until they were nose to nose.

"Then why do you question? You must have faith, sweetheart."

"Nicholas, some fluke brought me through time to you. How do we know that a fluke won't send me back? And when might that be? And--"

He kissed her to silence and she let him. She needed to know he loved her; she needed comfort. As always, he didn't disappoint her. His kiss expressed his passion and his need, but also his confidence in their love.

* * *

The ensuing days proved hectic, and that kept Jaci's mind off her troubles. They stabled Wind Dancer and Sabet at Churchill Downs upon their arrival in Louisville. Nicholas took time to make sure his horses suffered no ill effects from the long journey before he contented himself to enjoy the hospitality of the hotel. Sam, Tom and Mackey would stay in quarters at the track.

Scheduled practice times were available so only a few of the fifteen horses were on the track at any one time. Nicholas always attended when Wind Dancer ran, and Jaci usually accompanied him. There was a festive atmosphere around the Downs which soon infected both of them.

She was singularly impressed when they met Col. Meriwether Lewis Clark, whose vision inspired the creation of this race. She longed to tell him how his race track would take on a mystic status, both for Churchill Downs and for the city and residents of Louisville, but she knew no one would believe her.

Col. Clark singled Nicholas and her out one night at dinner to express his enthusiasm over their attendance at the Downs. "I never imagined word of this race would reach as far north as Philadelphia; at least not this first year." They shared a secret smile at the man's obvious pride in his accomplishment.

"Yes, I was most impressed with the Epsom Derby and St. Leger, both of which are English classics, you know." He smiled at Jaci, but she knew he only sought to impress Nicholas with his horse racing knowledge. "I decided to model my races after those, for I want to stimulate interest in thoroughbred racing."

He lowered his voice as though to impart a secret. "I even imported pari-mutual machines developed by a French colleague named Pierre Oller. Perhaps you might care to make a wager?" Nicholas had merely inclined his head without actually acquiescing.

Throughout the week before the race, Nicholas and Jaci rubbed shoulders with the elite of Louisville and Kentucky at various dinners and balls. Even though this was the first race at this track, the participants were going to make sure it was a race everyone remembered.

May seventeenth, race day, dawned sunny and cool. Nicholas had bought Jaci a new dress and hat especially for this day, but it took some time for her to dress. Her stomach refused to allow her to eat breakfast, and now, fifteen minutes before they had to leave, she still felt like throwing up.

Nicholas paced, giving her as much time as he dared before they had to leave, but she realized he didn't know quite what to do with her. Finally, her stomach settled enough for her to be comfortable and they departed, taking a carriage from the hotel to the outskirts of town. The grandstands were filling fast, but each owner had a box reserved right at the front of the track. The mile and a half race would be over in less than five minutes, so Col. Clark made sure his guests had plenty to entertain themselves prior to the start of the race.

The stables were off limits except for owners, but the grandstand area had a restaurant buffet and lounge for the ladies that was designed to keep them out of the sun. Nicholas left Jaci to see to last minute preparations with Wind Dancer. She nervously reached for a glass of champagne, scanning the crowd over the rim of her glass.

No one from Philadelphia was here and she considered that good; and bad. It would have been nice for Nicholas to have friends and family around, but again, what if things didn't end up like they wanted? What if...? She gulped down the champagne and reached for another glass. It was fortuitous that Nicholas returned when he did. Otherwise she would have gotten quite drunk.

"The race is almost ready to begin," he said from behind her and she turned to greet him. He didn't look the least anxious, and she wished she had his cool attitude. "Would you like to place a wager on the outcome of this race?" As he spoke, he led her over to one side of the grandstands.

His eyes widened when she pulled a roll of bills from her purse. "I think I must pay you too well."

"This certainly isn't
my
money." At his look, she continued quickly. "Cameron, and Thomas, and even Mrs. Jeffrey gave me some and if you don't think I've been paranoid about someone robbing me since we left Philly, well, let me tell you." As she chattered non-stop, she gave the man behind the barred window all her money. When he asked which horse she wanted to bet on, it momentarily threw her off balance.

"Wind Dancer, of course." She then realized the poor man didn't know she stood by Nicholas Westbrooke, owner of Wind Dancer and Wildwood. She continued her conversation with Nicholas. "I'm very happy to get rid of it."

"Are you implying you won't get anything back?" He raised a brow in question.

"Of course not, but with everyone's winnings and the winner's purse, we'll have to get a bank draft."

He grinned. "You're that confident Wind Dancer will win? Do you know something I don't?" He took her elbow and guided her through the crowd to the box they had been assigned.

She felt surprised he would ask. "Heavens no. If I recalled that much history, I would have invented something quicker, or closer to home."

He laughed. "We'll simply have to take our chances, won't we?" When they entered the box, a gentleman already there stood and doffed his hat.

"Jaci, may I present, uh, Mr. Christopher Stein. Mr. Stein, this is my betrothed, Miss Jaci Eastman. Thank you for joining us."

She glanced skyward. "When did the clouds come?" Her stomach plummeted; she didn't contemplate rain. "Can Wind Dancer run as fast in the rain?"

"What?" Nicholas asked, preoccupied with the field of horses.

She pointed skyward and Nicholas looked up, forehead wrinkling. "I usually don't run him on a wet track, for fear of injury. Perhaps the rain will hold off." His gaze went back to the track, where several skittish horses were being held by their trainers.