My Favorite Mistake (14 page)

Anyway, she realized it was way too late for any of that. Tommi was probably at the barn already, or at least on her way.

“Car service it is, then,” Zara said aloud with a shrug. Zac would just have to deal with the bill. And if he had a problem with it, he could take it up with Nanny Stacie.

Zara showered and dressed as fast as she could, then headed downstairs, hoping some drunken loser hadn't puked on her boots wherever she'd left them. One of the crashers was upright by now. He was sitting on the leather sofa, staring around with bleary eyes, as if wondering where he'd woken up this time.

“I don't suppose you made breakfast, did you?” Zara asked as she passed him.

“Huh?” The guy blinked at her, his mouth falling open.

“Never mind.” Zara spotted her boots wedged under a table. Grabbing them and stuffing them into her bag, she headed for the door.

Just before she reached it, it swung open. “Oh, you're up!” Stacie exclaimed, hurrying in. “I got bagels.” She held up a bulging white paper bag.

“No time,” Zara snapped, pushing past her. “I'm late. Oh, and by the way, thanks for the ride.”

Stacie looked confused. “Huh? Zara, wait—”

But Zara wasn't in the mood. She kept moving, bypassing the elevator and heading straight down the stairs without looking back.

Kate dashed into the tack room to hang up the half dozen bridles she'd just finished cleaning. She was moving so fast she almost crashed into someone.

“Sorry!” she said, skidding to a stop just in time. Then she saw it was Joy, Jamie's assistant trainer. “Oh! It's you.”

“None other.” Joy was carrying a saddle with a girth slung over it. “Just heading out to the big jumping ring to school that new horse before you guys head in there for your lesson.”

“Listen, I've been meaning to thank you,” Kate told Joy. “I really, really, totally appreciate you agreeing to cover for me on Saturday so I can go to my friend's horse show.” She stepped over and started hanging up the bridles. Her hands flew as she expertly threaded each one into a tidy figure-eight on its assigned hook.

“And I told you, it's no big deal.” Joy smiled. “We should be able to survive without you for one day. Barely.”

Kate smiled back sheepishly. “I know. But Saturdays are always crazy when it's a nonshowing weekend, and there are those two new pony kids starting that I was supposed to show around—”

“Kate, seriously. Chill.” Joy shifted the saddle to her other arm as the girth began to slip off. “We'll be fine. And you deserve a Saturday off once in a while.”

Kate just nodded, trying to remember the last Saturday she'd spent anywhere but at Pelham Lane or a show. But that sort of mental exercise was a waste of time, so she banished it quickly.

“Okay,” she said. “I just wanted you to know I appreciate it.”

“Message received.” Joy saluted with her free hand and hurried out of the room.

Kate finished hanging up the bridles, then checked her watch. Still almost an hour before she had to start tacking up for the group lesson. She was debating whether to use the
time to pick up manure in the paddocks or clip a couple of ponies when Fitz sauntered in.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he said. “I was hoping I might find you here.”

He looked tall and relaxed and handsome as always, his reddish-blond hair windblown from driving too fast in his convertible, his Psycho Bunny polo hanging just right on his lean but broad-shouldered frame. Nice, though Kate was much more interested in how his whole face had lit up as soon as he'd seen her, which made her feel happy and breathless and maybe a little confused all at once. But mostly good. Being at the show all week without him, it had been way too easy to second-guess their relationship. To remember the bad moments and downplay the good stuff. But now? Seeing the way Fitz was smiling at her made her wonder exactly what she'd been so worried about.

“Hi!” she said as he leaned in for a kiss. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I couldn't wait a second longer to see you.” Fitz rested one hand on the small of her back, using the other to gently push aside a few strands of blond hair that had come loose from Kate's ponytail. “I wanted to come by on Sunday night to welcome you home from the show, but my parents had me chained in the dungeon. And I tried to come out yesterday, but Jamie had a pack of wild dogs tied to the gate to keep me out.”

Kate grimaced, knowing he was probably only exaggerating a little. His parents couldn't be thrilled that they'd been forced to shell out somewhere in the high five figures for a lame horse. As for Jamie, well, the barn was supposed to be closed to clients on Mondays. It was the day when Kate and
the other workers got a chance to catch up on things that didn't get done the rest of the week. Normally Jamie didn't mind if a boarder wanted to sneak in a quick hack, especially the more serious competitors, as long as they tacked up and cooled out their own horses. Somehow, though, Kate doubted he would welcome any extra sightings of Fitz right now.

But she didn't worry about any of that for long as Fitz cupped the back of her head with his hand, pulling her face toward his. Their lips met, and for a while Kate didn't think about anything but kissing him.

Finally they came up for air. “Wow,” Fitz said. “That was almost worth waiting a whole week for.”

Kate smiled. “Yeah.”

“Listen, there's still plenty of time before our lesson, and I'm only getting bread and water at home.” Fitz checked his Breitling watch. “I grabbed some falafel on my way out of town, and I've got enough to share. How about we sneak away for a little picnic, just the two of us? It'll be like a mini-date.”

“A picnic?” Kate hesitated. On the one hand, she was supposed to be working today. But she felt as if she'd barely spent any time with Fitz lately.

He put both arms around her again, pulling her closer. “Come on,” he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “Say yes. I needs me some quality Kate time.”

She shivered, pressing up against him. “Well,” she said slowly, trying to calculate how late she'd have to stay tonight to make up for taking a little time off now. “I guess I do have to eat. But I can't stay long.”

A few minutes later the two of them were on the little hill
behind the barn overlooking the back pasture, where a couple of retired horses grazed contentedly in the shade of several old sycamores. Fitz had borrowed one of his horses' fancy monogrammed wool show coolers, which he'd spread on the grass as a makeshift picnic blanket. He'd grabbed sodas from the fridge in the office, a roll of paper towels from the supply room, and even a blossom off the climbing rose that rambled over the post-and-rail fence by the parking lot.

Kate watched as he dumped several Styrofoam containers of food out of a couple of greasy paper bags, then set the rose on top of one of them with a flourish. “Lunch is served,” he announced. “Dig in.”

“Thanks.” Kate didn't have the heart to tell him that she didn't much care for falafel, or most other Middle Eastern food for that matter. Spotting a chunk of grilled chicken in one of the containers, she carefully picked it out.

Fitz popped some falafel into his mouth. “So here's some good news,” he said. “My house arrest is finally over. The 'rents said I can go to the next show. I think it's just 'cause they're tired of looking at me, but hey, I'll take it.”

“That's great!” Kate felt as if she should say something more. Something about how it wasn't fair, that he shouldn't have taken the fall for Zara's mistake in the first place. Something to show how much she appreciated what he'd done for her. But she couldn't come up with the right words, so instead just added, “Um, we missed you at the last one.”

“We?” Fitz paused in the middle of scooping up some hummus with a scrap of pita and cocked one eyebrow. “Who exactly do you mean by
we
?”

“You know. All of us.” Kate felt herself blushing. “Come on, you know what I mean.”

He grinned. “I'm a little slow. You'd better explain it to me.”

“Stop it.
I
missed you, okay? Although I'm kind of starting to wonder why.” She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

“That's more like it. And you already know I missed you, too. Like crazy.” He blew her a kiss, then turned his attention back to his food. “So what else did I miss last week, anyway? Who did what, who won what, what's all the gossip?”

After that the two of them fell into an easy, comfortable conversation about the last show, the next show, and various other topics. Finally Fitz pushed the food away and let out a burp.

“Sorry,” he said with a grin. “In some cultures that's a sign of respect for the food. Or for the chef. Something like that.”

Kate smiled, glad that he didn't seem to notice that she hadn't really eaten much other than a roll and a few more scraps of chicken. This picnic had been such a sweet gesture; she didn't want to ruin it. “You've got hummus on your chin,” she said. “Is that a sign of respect, too?”

“Totally.” Fitz grabbed a paper towel and took a swipe at his face. “Did I get it?”

“No.” Kate leaned across the jumble of food boxes and plucked the paper towel out of his hand. “Here, let me.”

She dabbed at the spot of hummus. Fitz grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. “I think I see some hummus on your lips,” he said, his voice suddenly going softer. “Let me get that for you.”

Kate didn't bother to point out that she hadn't eaten any
hummus. “Careful,” she said instead. “Jamie might not like it if I show up for our lesson with falafel ground into the knees of my breeches.”

In response, Fitz used his free hand to sweep the food containers, used napkins, and empty soda cans aside. “Better?” he asked.

Without waiting for an answer, he scooted closer, dropping her wrist and wrapping his arms around her. Kate tried not to think about how much time had passed, how much she still wanted to get done before it was time to tack up for the lesson.

Then his lips met hers, and she stopped thinking about any of that.

“Trot,” Tommi said with a cluck, jiggling the long whip she was holding in her right hand. Her other hand was on the lunge line attached to Legs's halter. She was out in the deserted flat-work ring, lungeing him to see how he was moving.

The horse curled his neck and snorted as he jumped into an extended trot. After only a few strides, he broke into a brisk canter, kicking up his heels as he spun around her in a circle at the end of the line.

Tommi smiled, glad that he seemed to be feeling good. But she didn't want him to get too excited and hurt himself.

“Eeeeeasy,” she said. “Trot.”

Using her voice and body language, she managed to bring him back to the slower gait. This time he settled into a long, low hunter frame and trotted nicely. His legs moved evenly, like clockwork, and even though Tommi never took her eyes off the horse, she couldn't see even the slightest bobble, hitch, or hesitation in his stride.

“Okay, walk on,” she called to the horse, once again positioning her body to slow him down.

He slowed to a walk, and she reeled him in and gave him a pat. She'd given him a couple of days off after returning from the show. He'd had his usual turnout, but she hadn't ridden or worked with him at all. Now he seemed to be back to normal. Maybe the rest and turnout had been all he'd needed to recover from whatever had been bothering him that day.

If so, what did that mean for his future? Was it a fluke, just one of those passing things that could bother any athlete now and then? Or could it be a harbinger of more trouble to come? A show horse lived much of his life on the road, standing on trailers and in small stalls, sometimes working on less-than-ideal footing. What if Legs couldn't handle all that, either physically or mentally? Some horses couldn't.

And what about her? Was she really cut out for the tough life of a horse professional? Looking back over the past week and a half, she had to admit she hadn't made a very good start of it. One tempting invitation from a cute guy, and she'd blown off her plans and run away to the Hamptons as if she didn't have a care in the world.

She couldn't quite regret that decision. Not when it had meant getting to know Alex so much better. But now there was this thing with Legs, and she was feeling anxious and uncertain about what it meant. She hated feeling that way—she hated it a lot.

“Come on, boy.” She unhooked the lunge line as she prepared to take Legs back to his stall. “I've got to go get Toccata ready for my lesson.”

A little while later she rode into the jumping ring. Jamie hadn't arrived yet, but a few of the other juniors were there warming up their horses.

Summer was trotting past the gate when Tommi came in, but she brought her horse to a walk and stared at her. “Hey, you're riding Toccata today,” she said. “Does that mean Legs is still lame?”