Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (88 page)

“He’s busy. Can I take a message?” the voice returned, so gruff her stiff fingers almost dropped the phone.

“I need a trainer for three horses,” she managed. “Stakes horses.”

“Just a sec.”

The man was back in an instant. “Mark’s full but says to try Kurt MacKinnon. Barn sixty-eight.”

“Thanks.” She spit the word out and snapped the phone shut. Dammit. Mark hadn’t even asked the horses’ names.

How important did he think he was? Just because a sheikh thought he was wonderful, and maybe Strike A Pose
had
won the Derby last month. Still, they hadn’t won the Preakness, and Assets was just as good as anything the sheikh owned. And she and Mark had picked out Rocky together at Keeneland, and Belle was a brave, beautiful filly who’d battled and beaten colic.

Misery balled her throat, and she called Dick.

“Darling, I could do with your help here,” he said. “The mice have taken over the apartment, and I’m afraid they’ve chewed some clothes.”

“Oh, Dick,” she wailed. “You’re so lucky to be at the track.”

“Yes, Belmont is wonderful,” he said smugly. “All my favorite horses made it back from Florida, and Mary’s my downstairs neighbor again. Do come and visit.”

“I asked Mark to train my horses and he w-wouldn’t.” Her words caught on the painful brick in her throat.

“Well, he’s a Derby winner now. And rumor is Sheikh Khalif wants him to go private, but he refused. There’s another rumor too, darling.” Dick’s voice bubbled with barely contained glee. “I just came from the track kitchen and heard Mark no longer trains the ESPN horse. Apparently Cathy shipped Trooper to Dubai…when she got married.”

“Married!” Jessica’s smile was so big, her lips caught on her teeth. Obviously the
Tattler
had greatly exaggerated Mark and Cathy’s relationship.

“Thought that would cheer you up.” He laughed. “And since I’ve put you in such a good mood, would you share a few names from your Four Hundred list? Doris said you raised eighty percent of your money there.”

“You can have anything you want, Dick,” Jessica said. “Anything at all.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jessica drove through the main gates of Belmont Park driving the Center’s diesel truck and hauling a shiny aluminum four-horse trailer. The security guard gave a polite smile, called barn seventy-two to confirm, yes, she was indeed picking up a horse then waved her through.

“This is Harry. He’s a good old boy,” the trainer said, leading an inquisitive bay from the barn. “Six years old, thirty-two starts and still sound. Glad you’ll find him a home. He isn’t the fastest, but he’s definitely the barn favorite. The owner wants to do the right thing for him.” He scratched the horse affectionately on the shoulder. “Good luck, old man.”

He spoke with such affection, Jessica’s throat convulsed. She hadn’t been able to save Buddy, hadn’t even been able to say goodbye, but she was helping this fellow. Sometimes raw emotion bushwhacked her.

“I can send updates.” She averted her head and gave her eye a swipe. “Let you know where he goes. What his new career is.”

“I’d appreciate that. We all would.” The trainer gestured at a solemn-faced group clustered around the shedrow and a groom limped over, clearing his throat as he fed Harry one last peppermint.

“I learned to gallop on him,” a pert-nosed exercise rider said while she straightened Harry’s mane. “He made sure I never fell off. You know how it is? When you get on a horse and just know he’ll look after you?”

Jessica nodded, unable to speak.

“Well, that’s Harry,” she said. “He’d be a real good kid’s horse. He’d be a real good anybody’s horse.” She patted him one more time, turned and walked away.

The trainer shook Jessica’s hand then passed her the lead line and an envelope thick with papers. “Thank you, Ms. Boone.” He left with hunched shoulders.

Harry’s hooves echoed as he trustingly followed Jessica up the ramp and onto the trailer.

She drove off with Harry neighing behind her, a mournful sound that followed her down the familiar road and drummed up that stubborn, homesick feeling.
The track sure gets under your skin
.

And just why wouldn’t Mark hire her? Her knuckles whitened around the wheel. She’d established Buddy’s Thoroughbred Retirement Center, owned three fine racehorses and was pulling a trailer with good old Harry neighing in the back. Yet she couldn’t get a job walking hots for Mark.

She yanked the mirror down, checked her sleek shirt, her newly highlighted hair, her glossy lips. At least she looked better than she had last fall when she’d sported a tired ponytail, dirty jeans and battered face. It was clear if she waited for Mark to call, she’d wait forever. There’d be no grand gestures. He wasn’t the type to put himself out for a woman. Wasn’t the type to show his feelings. She accepted that now.

But just maybe he’d be glad to see her.

She turned along the main drive, past the track kitchen, past a young man balancing three cups of coffee on a rickety bike. She twisted, certain it was Lefty’s old bike. Nostalgia slammed her. But she drove on. Only three more barns. She eased into a wide gravel area, pried her clammy fingers from the leather wheel and forced herself to step out.

She checked on Harry, already calm and happily munching. He looked at her with inquiring eyes, hay protruding from his mouth, as though wondering why they’d stopped.

“You really are a good boy,” she said, leaving the side door open so he could catch the spring breeze.

She wiped her damp hands on her jeans and walked along the gravel, along the route where Assets had dragged her. And now he was her horse. She raised her head a notch and walked a little prouder.

But her feet jerked to a stop when she spotted the shedrow. Damn. She’d waited too long. Loud purple now replaced Mark’s drab stable colors, and geraniums bloomed in a profusion of hanging pots. This couldn’t be his barn. Mark must have moved his operation. Maybe accepted the sheikh’s offer or even followed Cathy to the Emirates.

Her gaze shot to Kato’s grave, and she blew out a breath of relief. At least that was okay. Whoever had moved into Mark’s barn was tending her beloved cat’s grave, with a bright flowerbed marking his resting spot and a cozy picnic table anchored alongside.

She edged closer to the barn door and was immediately challenged.

A man with a gold earring that matched the color of his curly hair stepped from the shedrow. “Sorry. Mark isn’t hiring.” His watchful gaze absorbed her appearance, and he relaxed a notch. “Guess you’re not looking for a job. You came to see the Derby winner?”

Her mouth turned dry. Mark hadn’t left. “Yes, please,” she managed and followed him into the shedrow, heart jerking into overdrive.

A bay horse with a white star stuck his head over the stall guard and nuzzled at the man’s chest. So this was Strike A Pose. A Derby winner. My God, Mark was a genius. The horse didn’t look special, just an average animal with a kind disposition. Not at all like Assets, who’d whipped every horse into submission just by glaring at them.

“He has a beautiful coat,” she said, searching for something nice to say. “I guess a big horse like this gets lots of grooming.”

The man shrugged and gestured down the aisle. “That’s the boss’s big horse. Arrived from rehab only ten days ago. Gets more attention than any of the others.”

Three stalls down, a black head with a jagged stripe poked over the stall door, eyes hopeful, ears pricked. He nickered, such a soft familiar sound, and her ribs seemed to crush her heart.

“Oh, my God!” She gulped, unable to grab air. “Buddy?”

The horse nickered again, stretching his neck further over the stall guard. And then she was standing beside him and could feel his breath on her face, his soft muzzle as he sniffed her pockets. “Oh, Buddy.” Her voice, her entire chest convulsed, the words coming out in a ragged gasp. “B-Buddy.”

“Careful. He’s headshy.”

The groom stopped talking when Buddy pressed his head against her chest, remained silent as tears streamed down Jessica’s cheeks. “I can’t believe he’s alive.” She choked the words out.

“He broke his leg last fall and was supposed to be euthanized, but Dino said the boss made a deal with Buddy’s new owner. Sent him to a fancy hospital. There’s a screw in his ankle, but he’s okay now. Even trots sound.”

“May I go in?” She slipped into the stall before the man could refuse. Touched Buddy everywhere. But when she spotted three purple braids at the top of his gleaming mane, her hands tangled in disbelief.

“Boss puts those braids in,” the groom said with a shrug. “I don’t dare ask why. He should be finished in the office soon, so you better get out of the stall.”

Mark was in the office
.

She sprinted down the aisle, ignoring the man’s shouted protest, raced across the tow ring, up the two steps and flung open the office door.

A concrete arm slammed her against the wall. Her stunned eyes found Mark’s even as a vise tightened around her throat.

“She’s okay!” Mark yelled, his face ashen as he leaped halfway across his desk.

A man with a gray beard and watchful black eyes, wearing white robes and a headpiece, spoke softly from a corner chair.

The hand lifted from her throat. Oh God, she could breathe again. Her feet kicked when she hit the floor and she stumbled, would have fallen if the bodyguard hadn’t twisted her arm.

Mark poised over his desk, tendons corded in his neck, as he glared at someone behind her. The man in the chair spoke again, and she was released.

“Sorry,” she sputtered, clasping her burning throat as she stared at Mark. “Guess I shouldn’t have rushed in like that.”

His expression turned enigmatic, and he sank back in his chair. “Wait for me, Jess.”

“Oh, I will,” she said. “Long as you want. I’ll be in the barn. With Buddy.”

She was so happy she nodded at the man who’d almost strangled her. The same guy who had manhandled her in the hospital. “Nice seeing you again,” she said, still nodding, still deliriously happy.

She backed out. Skipped across the dirt to the shedrow and bounced down the aisle and into Buddy’s stall. He was still there. Still chewing hay. Still alive.

“Oh, my God.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and let his satiny hair absorb her tears.

Moments later she sensed Mark’s presence. She turned to face him, suddenly shy. “Hi,” she said. He just stood there, looking at her, his blue eyes unreadable. “This is one of the happiest days of my life,” she added, keeping a hand on Buddy’s shoulder.

“Heard you started an adoption facility,” he said. “Thought you might have a stall for him.”

“Yes, thanks. I sure do.” Her voice sounded strange. “And congratulations to you on the Derby. And the sheikh. How’s your shoulder by the way?”

“Better.” His face was impassive. “Were you here that day?”

She shook her head, wishing her tongue didn’t feel so awkward. “I watched on TV. Came by the hospital, but your visitors were restricted.”

“That was seven months ago. I assumed you were off skiing and didn’t know. Wrong assumption.”

The bleakness in his voice chilled her and she stiffened, stunned with the knowledge that she’d hurt him. She stared at his chest, stalling, gathering her courage. But he’d never said he loved her, professed to only want a casual relationship and if she admitted her true feelings, he might shut her down. Once you said those words they were out there, hanging like a weapon, and they could never, ever be pulled back. If he could just make this a little easier…

But already he’d withdrawn. Crossed his arms and turned toward the blond man gawking in the aisle. “Rake the other end, Jim,” he said.

She watched as Jim rushed away. “Your new man,” she sucked in a fortifying breath, “he said you made a deal to get Buddy. So that was with Radcliff? I can’t imagine what you offered.”

A muscle ticked in Mark’s jaw, and it was then she guessed. “No!” she groaned. “Not Assets!”

“Your grandfather had already decided to move his horses.” Mark shrugged. “I just made sure Radcliff was their trainer. Look, I have an important meeting, but drop by again. Dino and Carlos would like to see you.”

He backed up a step, preparing to leave. Words jammed in her throat, but she couldn’t talk, didn’t know what to say. Even her legs trembled.

As though sensing her desperation, Buddy nudged her, exposing the neat braids at the top of his neck. She sucked in a big breath. Mark hated braids. They had to mean something. She grabbed Buddy’s mane, borrowing his courage but felt she was leaping into unknown depths.

“Mark, I love you.” Her hands and voice trembled. She lifted her head, no longer trying to hide her feelings. His face blurred, but she forged on. “It hurt s-so much that you didn’t want me. I needed to go away and accomplish something, to feel worthy—”

She didn’t hear the stall guard open, but somehow his arms wrapped around her. “Not want you? Jesus. I said I’d wait. I’m wearing your colors.” His voice rose. “Hell, I went purple.”

“All that’s nice. The braids too.” His touch was intoxicating, but she resisted the urge to bury her face against his soft shirt. “Still, you wouldn’t hire me when I needed a job.” She couldn’t quite keep the hurt from her voice.

“I didn’t want a slumming heiress. Someone who only wanted food and a Jacuzzi. I wanted you to have options. Oh, sweetheart.” He cradled her face between his big hands, staring with such tenderness her heart thumped.

“So you don’t mind,” she gulped, “that I love you?”

“Mind?” His eyes blazed and he kissed her then, so thoroughly, so convincingly, her legs turned boneless.

Minutes later, he lifted his mouth. “I knew I wanted you when your grandfather told me to fire you,” he said, his voice gruff. “I couldn’t do it. And it’s been no fun without you. Even that damn Derby horse was boring.”

“Gramps told you to fire me? And you didn’t? That’s why he moved Assets?” She stiffened in horror, shocked by the enormity of his sacrifice. “I’m s-sorry.” Her voice broke. “You should have done what he wanted. You worked so hard for that colt.”