Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (130 page)

She loved him
.

Despair swept her. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Martha had warned he wasn’t good husband material. And it was no secret he didn’t want to get married again, that racing was the most important thing in his life.

He had changed though. Didn’t flirt or look at other women. He’d been genuinely concerned about Martha too, was leaving Lone Star and driving back to the hospital tonight. Maybe he’d pick up her bag of clothes on the way.

Her despair mingled with optimism. She hoped he was here the next time Ted popped by—Dino was tough. He’d put Ted in his place. And she wanted to discuss Ted’s odd reaction to the news of Slim’s death. She pulled out her phone and pressed Dino’s number, eager to hear his voice.

“Hello, Becky.”

His voice was tight, so guarded she knew instantly something was wrong. Darn. She shouldn’t have called him at the track where he was always busy. Should have sent a text message. Flustered, her words came in a rush. “Are you dropping by the hospital tonight?”

The taut silence made her heart crash. “Doesn’t matter,” she added, “but if you come, can you bring some clothes? Jocelyn will have a bag ready.”

“Becky, I don’t think—”

“It’s okay. I know you’re busy.” Her knuckles whitened around the phone. This was her fault and she obviously was expecting more than he could give. “I’ll find someone else. Good luck with the horses. Hope Echo is okay.”

“This is a really bad time. There’s some track officials here with me.”

“No problem. See you later,” she said brightly, determined to keep her dignity, desperate to cut the connection before he heard the crack in her voice.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Her biggest problem is apathy.” The doctor paused, consulting Martha’s chart before glancing at Becky. “She’s only seventy-four. We just need something to keep her going. Any grandchildren expecting babies?”

Becky shook her head. “She only has one nephew, and he’s not married.”

“That won’t work then.” The doctor smiled boyishly, looking so young it was hard to believe he was in charge of Martha’s wellbeing. “But anything that cranks her interest, makes her feel needed, would be beneficial. I’ll talk to the family tonight.”

He walked down the aisle, his head swiveling as Stephanie bounced past with an oversized shoulder bag and a graffiti-colored cast on her arm. Her perkiness drew a smile from the doctor and a disapproving frown from a slit-eyed nurse.

“Hey, girl. I have everything you need.” Stephanie patted the overnight bag. “The housekeeper had it ready. She sent along some sandwiches too, just in case the food here sucks, which I already know it does.”

“Great.” Becky rushed toward Stephanie, relieved to see a familiar face. “And thanks for driving to Conrad’s.”

“No problem. I had to go there anyway and box up Slim’s stuff. I’m moving in next week.”

“What do you mean?”

Stephanie shrugged. “I thought Dino would have told you. He’s letting me live there until the place is sold. Also paying me to oversee the gallops. All I have to do is look after Slim’s cat.”

Becky’s stomach gave an odd kick. Dino hadn’t forgotten Stephanie after all. And the arrangements made perfect sense. Slim’s house was empty. Cody needed help. It would be foolish to hire someone to replace Slim when Conrad Racing was headed for the block. And it wasn’t like Dino was sleeping with Stephanie, not any more. Still, he had time to do all the horse-related stuff, cat stuff too, but couldn’t give her more than thirty seconds on the phone—

“What’s wrong?” Stephanie tilted her head, staring with concerned eyes. “Did Martha take a bad turn?”

“Oh, no. She’s stable. Just doesn’t care about anything. The horses are the only things that keep her interest, but everyone says racing is too stressful. A catch twenty-two. I don’t even know what’s best anymore.” Becky’s lower lip quivered, and she clamped her mouth shut.

“Aw, sweetie.” Stephanie thumped the bag on the floor and wrapped her in a hug. “There’s nothing else you can do. Jocelyn and Ted already told me the place would be sold, along with all the horses. That Martha’s giving up her home.”

Stephanie’s hug felt good and Becky didn’t want to move but something nagged at her, and she stepped back, cocking her head. “When were you talking to Ted?”

“About an hour ago,” Stephanie said. “He was in Slim’s guesthouse when I arrived. Dropped by to pick up some horse papers.” She scooped the bag up with her good arm, linking her other around Becky. “Now can I visit Martha? I’ll tell her some horse stories from when Malcolm was racing, and you can relax and have a glass of Beaujolais. I always thought that housekeeper was kind of cold, but she did send some great wine.”

***

“Morning, honey.”

Becky squeezed her eyes shut, didn’t want her dream to end. Dino’s arms, his smell, his voice all seemed so real, and in the dream he didn’t like Stephanie, the reporter, or any other woman. He only loved her.

“I love you too,” she whispered, snuggling closer.

His arms stiffened, and the hospital cot suddenly turned confining. She jerked her eyes open. Dino’s face, his real face, was only inches away, unreadable in the dark. Martha’s shallow breathing huffed from the bed, muted chatter sounded from the hallway, but he was completely still.

“Oh, hi. I was dreaming of Martha,” she whispered, happy he’d somehow shown up but afraid he’d heard her whispered confession. “What time is it?”

“Almost four. I have to go back to the track,” he said. “You and Martha were both sleeping when I arrived. Sorry I was so late. I brought some food. The nurses offered to keep it in their private fridge.”

“What time did you come?”

“Just after midnight. Got busy with a couple of unexpected…issues. What are the doctors saying?”

Becky checked Martha’s sleeping form, keeping her voice low. “She shouldn’t have much stress, but she needs to stay interested. People around, goals, things like that. Anything that makes her feel like she’s contributing.”

“Racing is too stressful?”

Becky nodded.

“What she really wants is to establish Malcolm’s name,” he said. “Bit of a dilemma.”

She nodded again, lightened by his presence. Everything would be okay now. Martha always perked up with Dino; she still wore full makeup when he was around. Becky snuggled into his chest, absorbing the calm beat of his heart, her sense of security. He’d know what to do; he always fixed everything.

“I’m going to be busy at Lone Star,” he said, “but call if you need me. Any time. And give Martha my best. We’ve already had some bloodstock agents express interest in her horses, so they shouldn’t be hard to sell.”

Her breath caught as she absorbed his blunt words. That was his fix? Put the horses on the market? Now that he’d earned his bonus, he was leaving? And while removing stressers was a good thing, it effectively stripped Martha of her sole interest in living.

Her breathing sounded loud, ragged even. But he’d already risen from the cot and was now only a dark silhouette. He was leaving without seeing Martha, without any mention of a return. But horses didn’t exercise in the afternoon. Surely he’d find some time?

Although maybe she’d scared him with her declaration of love. Not fair. He’d caught her groggy with sleep when feelings always ran a little rampant. And she’d drank a lot of wine with Stephanie.

“See you later.” He stooped over the bed, brushing her cheek with a chaste kiss.

“When?”
Shit
. Somehow that needy word just popped out. “Because Martha will have instructions for you soon,” she added. “You know, about the horses.”

“All right.” He tousled her hair and left.

“Asshole,” she muttered, realizing he’d evaded her question.

“I heard that.” Martha’s voice was cranky with sleep. “And ladies shouldn’t swear.”

“Guess I’m not much of a lady.”

“You seem to be enough for him.”

“What do you mean?” Becky peered through the dark, in the direction of the prone form on the bed.

“He said you could call anytime.” Martha’s huff was definitely indignant. “He doesn’t even let
me
call during training hours. Now go back to sleep. And tell your young man I don’t appreciate being wakened at four in the morning. The next time he visits, it had better be daylight.”

Becky shifted to the warm spot Dino had left, feeling slightly better. Martha was right. He had said Becky could call him anytime. That had to mean something.

God, she prayed it meant something.

***

“Those kind of flowers make me sneeze.” Martha fluttered a dismissive hand at Ted. “You should know that. Your mother had the same allergy. Give them to the lady in the next room, the nice one with the scarf over her head.”

“Okay,” Ted said, his face turning so red Becky almost felt sorry for him.

He placed the flowers on the chair and clicked open his briefcase. “But first you need to sign some papers. I found a legitimate buyer for the estate. And we can instruct Mr. Anders to start immediate dispersal of the animals.”

“Those
animals
are horses,” Martha said, her tone petulant. “And my lawyer should be here. There are a few changes I need made to my will.”

“Oh?” Ted looked at Martha, his lips tight. “I have a copy of the will you and Malcolm drew up last year. Seems up to date…what Uncle wanted.”

“What Malcolm wanted was to be remembered as a horseman so perhaps I should keep racing, regardless of my health.” Martha harrumphed. “It’s difficult to decide.”

“We’ll lose this buyer if you keep waffling. Please think about it.” Ted closed his briefcase, his frustrated gaze turning to Becky. “I seem to be the only one worrying about her long-term health.” Grabbing the flowers, he stalked from the room.

“I know what Ted and the doctors think.” Martha’s voice turned pensive. “But I really don’t know what to do.”

Becky dragged her chair closer to the bed. “You don’t have to decide today.”

“I want to keep racing, but Dino will be far away and hiring two new managers is daunting. I simply don’t have the energy.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her words a faint whisper. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Malcolm.”

Becky’s throat thickened. If only Dino could be more helpful. “Malcolm only wanted you happy,” she said. “He wouldn’t want you racing if it wasn’t healthy.”

“Probably not.” Martha gave a glimmer of a smile. “But he was a man. And men crave recognition. It’s a rare one who will step back from the limelight.”

Malcolm is dead. His ego doesn’t matter
. But she didn’t want to burst Martha’s bubble of interest so she sat beside her in companionable silence, holding her thin hand.

***

Dino scowled, snapped his phone shut and looked at Shane. “Bill Taylor’s moving his horses to another trainer. He heard about the steroids. Says he’ll be back after the dust settles.”

“Doesn’t seem fair, boss.” Shane stepped closer to the desk, his face troubled. “Anyone could have stuck those steroids in our fridge.”

Not anyone. Slim
. Dino dragged a hand over his jaw. “But I’m the trainer on record. And that’s the way this business works. Shit has to stop somewhere.”

Dino shoved a pile of invoices aside. It’d be good to get away and race in South Texas. He could train some horses at his ranch, cut down on costs, buy a few claimers. Reduce his dependency on fickle owners who yanked their horses at the very worst time.

Even dealing with Martha—one of the best owners in the business—was frustrating. One day she talked of selling, the next she wanted to finish the season. Enough to give a man ulcers. At least she’d helped him earn his ranch, and for that he’d always be grateful. And for meeting Becky, that was another good thing.

“Hey, Dino.” Jimmy Jones paused in the doorway, twirling his aluminum cane. “Just wanted to thank you again. That Chippy is a real nice horse. Feeling good too. Even bucked a bit this morning.”

“Jesus, Jimmy.” Dino jerked forward. The last thing he wanted was for the jock to hurt himself. “You’re only supposed to be trotting. Your leg—”

“Is perfect.” Jimmy gestured with shades of his former cockiness. “Hell, I’m soon ready to win races again. Body is strengthening. Just getting out in the fresh air with the horses is good.”

Jimmy did look well. He no longer leaned on his cane but instead waved it in the air as he regaled Shane and Dino with Chippy’s latest antics. “Yeah, well, thanks again,” he said as he pumped Dino’s hand. “I was dying cut off from the track. The worst thing about getting hurt is giving up the horse life.”

He limped from the room and yelled a ribald comment to someone in the aisle.

Shane waited a moment then glanced at Dino. “Kinda puts a warm, fuzzy feeling in your gut, don’t it, boss? Like a long drink of good whisky.”

“Yeah, it kinda does.” Dino smiled, feeling more content than he had in days. “Gotta thank Becky for that one. I wouldn’t even have thought of Chippy.”

“Some folks are good about thinking of other people,” Shane said.

“Yeah.” Dino shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t called her today, but she hadn’t called him either. Hadn’t even sent a text.

“She moving to your ranch?”

His head shot up. “Who? Becky?”

“That’s who we’re talking about, isn’t it?” Shane gave a crooked grin. “Just want you to know I’d be happy if she doesn’t. After the Conrad horses are gone, guess there’s no reason I can’t call her. Providing that’s okay with you, of course.”

“Don’t push it,” Dino said.

Shane just adjusted his hat and sauntered from the office.

Cocky sonofabitch. Dino scowled at the empty doorway then at his silent phone. Maybe he
could
mention his ranch. See what she thought about living a stone’s throw from the Mexican border. Hell, all she could do was say no. He didn’t know if she’d leave Martha, but for damn sure he didn’t want her leaving him.

The phone buzzed and he smiled. Must be Becky. No one else would dare call him in the morning. But it wasn’t Becky; the display showed the Lone Star Race Office.