Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (95 page)

BOOK: Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3)
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“Eat your food,” he said, no longer meeting her eyes. And she could have sworn she’d made him blush.

 

***

 

Dino strolled down the raked aisle, checking every stall, enjoying the orderly atmosphere. All the horses looked healthy, eyes and coats gleaming as they tugged at their noon hay. Good appetites meant happy horses. They’d been happy on the track too.

Becky would only have positive things to report to Martha. She’d been surprisingly observant. Had even noticed the head-tossing gelding, something Suzy had missed. He paused and turned back to the groom who lingered in the gelding’s stall. “Suzy, vet’s coming by tomorrow,” he said. “Might be wolf teeth. Next time your horse is uncomfortable with the bit, check his mouth.”

“Sorry, boss. I should have noticed. He was hard to bridle too.” She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and stepped up to the front of the stall. “Was that Mrs. Conrad’s granddaughter with you earlier?”

“No, that’s Becky, her rep. She’ll be coming by the track a bit.”

“Then the rumors are true? Conrad stable is for sale?”

“Not yet. Not if we please Becky.”

“Oh, we’re good then.” Suzy’s face brightened with relief. “You’re the perfect man for that job.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know.” She giggled, smoothing her T-shirt. “You’re real popular with women.”

He scowled. First Becky. Now Suzy. Unbelievable. Since his divorce, he’d enjoyed many women, but he didn’t consider himself a hound. And he was always honest, always kept it casual and never, ever dated anyone who worked for him.

He dragged his hand over his jaw. At least he never dated anyone like Suzy, not girls who worked directly for him. Maybe there’d been a few who worked indirectly with him. Yes, Stephanie worked for Conrad Stables, and there had been Greta and a few other nurses. But they didn’t work for him. And it had been fun for both sides. No promises, no commitment. He was careful to avoid needy or bitchy women. One disastrous marriage was quite enough.

Suzy flashed a knowing smile, and his scowl deepened.

“That bucket is dirty, and there’s a manure stain on your horse’s belly.” His voice flattened. “And soak his hay. You should always do that when a horse has a sore mouth.”

She ducked her head, color climbing her neck, and he felt like he’d just scolded a puppy. But damn it, she was barely twenty. What did she know? Still, Becky had accused him of being a pig, only hours earlier, and she was plenty observant. She didn’t talk much, but he could see the wheels moving behind those intelligent brown eyes.

She’d loosened up too and turned into a real chatterbox, at least around him. He’d been slightly disappointed when she left after breakfast although the prospect of her visits had originally left him resentful.

Lyric’s night rescue must have cracked her shyness. Clearly she’d enjoyed being on the mare’s back. It was crazy she couldn’t ride regularly, especially since Martha’s manor was surrounded by horses. Actually there was no reason why she couldn’t ride Lyric. The mare was always well behaved in the paddock.

Besides, with Echo racing in a week, he intended to spend more time at the Conrad barn. He could help Becky with the first couple of rides. Smooth her way with Slim. The man was a capable horseman but sometimes resented visitors—clearly he also felt pressure to win. It didn’t help that Ted was pushing Martha to sell. But a good race from Echo would improve everyone’s mood. Improve everyone’s finances too.

He continued his barn check, stopping to adjust a sagging hay net and wishing Hunter had performed better. There would have been a lot less pressure if the colt had won. He was confident in his training program and accepted that horses were rarely predictable. Still, it was disconcerting that his hopes of regaining the family ranch now depended upon a flighty filly and the reports of a bashful, brown-eyed nurse.

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

“You shouldn’t have rushed back,” Martha said as Becky fluffed the pillows, propping them behind Martha’s head. “I happen to know Dino is excellent company.”

Becky tidied the already immaculate bedside table, conscious of Martha’s probing eyes. “Yes, he’s good company but I thought you’d want to hear about your horses.”

“Of course I do,” Martha said. “What did you think?”

“Dino’s barn is well kept, clean and even more organized than the barn he manages here. All the horses look great. I saw five on the track today, including the two names you wrote on the list. Three wore rundown bandages. One of them has a sore mouth but they all galloped well, really well.”

“Who has the sore mouth?”

“The bay gelding that’s a half brother to Hunter. Dino says it’s wolf teeth and told someone called Shane to call the vet.”

“Shane is Dino’s assistant, another nice man.” Martha reached over and squeezed Becky’s hand. “I appreciate you checking the horses, and it’s good for you to get out. You need to find a real life, especially since I won’t be around much longer.”

Becky’s throat constricted so tightly she couldn’t speak, could only pat Martha’s hand. “You have lots more time,” she finally managed. “A little heart attack but you’re only seventy-four. You just have to be cautious. And I brought some pictures and video and on Saturday, I’m going to figure out how to place a bet for you.”

“Video isn’t the same as being at the races.” Martha sighed in frustration. “I’m supposed to rest but it’s boring in the house. Malcolm and I used to drive around, checking the grounds before going to the track.”

“Would you like to go for another drive around the estate?” Becky asked. “Maybe check out the pastures and the training barn? We could visit Hunter. And Lyric.”

A smile creased Martha’s face. “You like Lyric, don’t you? Did you know Dino called half an hour ago? Suggested you be allowed to ride that mare.”

Becky’s eyes widened. It had been a rare day of fun to leave the estate and join Dino at the track. And now he was arranging for her to ride Lyric, the most beautiful horse in the barn. She clasped her hands, trying to maintain her composure, trying to concentrate on what Martha was saying.

“Give you a chance to ride.” Martha said. “So, do you want to ride with Dino once in a while?”

“Ride with D-Dino?” Her voice cracked, and heat rushed to her cheeks as she stared at Martha. Not only ride beautiful Lyric but accompanied by Dino? Not by Slim. She must be hallucinating.

“Guess you won’t have to watch me nap anymore.” Martha smiled ruefully. “I can’t think of a nicer man to go riding with. He put a smile on Greta’s face too. But do be careful, dear.”

Becky realized she was gaping and snapped her mouth shut. She had to say something though and prayed her tone was casual enough to fool Martha. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’d never fall for anyone like Dino. I’m not his type, completely the opposite of Greta.”

“You mumble a bit and certainly hide behind that mane of hair. But a cut and highlights would help.” Martha leaned forward, staring at Becky’s face. “Your eyebrows need shaping as well. And makeup—a lady should always wear makeup. But your bone structure is okay. And you do have lovely hands.”

Becky smiled despite her thrust of pain. Even Martha—who liked her—thought her plain. And that was a good thing. Exactly what she wanted. It was best not to draw attention, and Lyric certainly didn’t care about her looks.

She glanced down, ruefully waggling her fingers. At least Martha said she had good hands. For riders, those were more important than a pretty face.

 

***

 

Becky stared over the lonely oval. “The track looks deserted.”

“It is deserted,” Martha said. “Horses are trained in the morning. They’re used to a schedule. Grooms leave about eleven and return at four, but Slim is generally around.”

“Can we take a look at Lyric?” Becky asked. “And of course Hunter and Echo too,” she added, realizing Martha was more interested in her racehorses than the retired mare.

“I own this place,” Martha said. “We can do whatever we want. But park close to the front door or else drive around to the side entrance. I don’t want to walk far, and those clouds look like rain.”

Becky edged the car close to the front door. She supported Martha as she inched from her seat, and they entered the barn at a sedate pace. The aisle was spotless but empty. Horses poked heads over their stall guards, studying them with hopeful interest.

“That looks new.” Martha pointed to a shiny snap that reinforced the bolt on Lyric’s stall. “She escaped once last year and almost caused a highway accident. Malcolm said she’s a magnet for trouble. I’m glad Slim is being careful.”

Becky averted her head. She hadn’t told Martha about the mare’s latest escapade, deciding it would only cause unnecessary worry. It was unfortunate that Lyric—the horse most likely to head to the highway—had managed to get loose, but tragedy had been averted.

Lyric nickered and Becky stepped closer, pleased the mare remembered her. “I’m going to ride you, beautiful,” she murmured. “I’ll brush you and learn how to wrap your legs, and maybe you won’t want to run away.”

“Let’s visit another stall. Lyric nips.” Martha gestured impatiently. “Echo and Hunter are our best horses. I pray Echo runs well on Saturday.”

Becky gave Lyric an apologetic pat then supported Martha’s elbow as they shuffled to Echo’s stall. The filly nudged Martha’s hand, clearly anticipating a treat.

“Malcolm and I always brought peppermints.” Martha’s sad smile twisted at Becky’s chest. “We used to visit them everyday, just the two of us. Such fun.” She propped her purse on top of a hay bale and shuffled through the contents, finally extracting two pink mints which the filly deftly lifted from her hand. “Please win on Saturday, girl. Help justify this place. Ted promised he’d help look after things, but his insistence on selling is wearisome.”

Becky’s throat tightened. Martha sounded so vulnerable; the heart attack she’d suffered following Malcolm’s death had definitely changed her psyche. Ted shouldn’t be pushing her so hard. He never would have dared if Malcolm were alive…or if Martha was her usual domineering self. Becky knew she was only a nurse, knew it was safer not to get involved, but she’d never been able to turn away from someone in need.

“From now on,” anger thickened Becky’s voice, “I’m going to speak up when Ted is pushy. I won’t be quiet.”

Martha gave a wan smile and continued down the aisle, seeming to be amused by Becky’s impulsive declaration. They both knew her habit was to duck confrontation.

Hunter stuck his head out, not deigning to look at them, but instead staring over their heads. That horse didn’t duck from anything. Despite losing on Saturday—losing badly—he clearly considered himself king of the barn.

He didn’t smell like a king though. Becky wrinkled her nose, distracted by the odor. “He looks good, but he doesn’t smell like the other horses,” she said.

“I don’t notice anything,” Martha said. “Probably he’s on a different type of feed.”

Becky didn’t say anything more, just took Martha’s arm and helped her shuffle down the aisle. But she didn’t think the smell clinging to Hunter was feed related. It reeked like something bad, something rotten.

 

***

 

“I’m sorry, Ted.” Becky gripped the phone, enunciating clearly into the mouthpiece. “Martha has retired for the evening. She won’t be able to see you until Sunday either, the day after the race. You’re welcome to leave any documents with Jocelyn. But as you noted, Martha needs rest. That’s why her bedroom is now off-limits to everyone but medical staff.”

Becky moved the phone six inches from her head, enjoying Martha’s delighted smile as they both listened to Ted rant about overstepping nurses and their fragile job security.

Once he slowed, Becky pressed the phone back to her ear, recalling Dino’s rationale. “Actually my job is to look after your aunt,” she said. “I regret you don’t approve but
she
pays my salary, not you. See you on Sunday.” She snapped the phone shut, blew out a big breath and sank into the closest chair.

“Well done. Surprisingly well done.” Martha settled against the pillows with a complacent smile. “Thank you. He won’t be able to complain after Echo wins on Sunday. You were quite brave. I know that was difficult for you.”

“I’m braver on the phone,” Becky admitted. “It’s tougher to look someone in the face. Especially someone with pale eyes like Ted’s.”

“Why’s that?”

“Beats me.” She rose and circled to the medication table.

“Then just look at his forehead,” Martha said.

“What?”

“If people’s eyes intimidate you, just look at their forehead.”

“That might help.” Becky nodded. “Thanks.”

“After seventy-four years, you learn a few tricks.” Martha waved her hand in dismissal, but pleasure flushed her cheeks. “Now pass me my purse. I want to bet a few dollars. I’m also going to call Dino and remind him Echo absolutely must win.”

Becky reached for the purse. She’d been thinking of Dino all evening, wondering where he was, what he was doing. Martha might even ask her to make the call, and if so, she wanted to thank him for arranging the rides on Lyric. She paused, her arm outstretched.

Martha’s purse was missing.

She sighed and lowered her arm. “Sorry, but I think your purse is still in the barn. By Echo’s stall.”

“Will you get it for me?” Martha’s voice fluttered with agitation. “I’m sure the workers are all very honest. However, a lonely purse is tempting.”

“Sure.” Becky turned toward the door. “Be back in fifteen minutes.”

She hurried to the garage and backed out the Mercedes. Raindrops pelted the windshield and she adjusted the wipers, craning to see the dark road through the beading water. Vapor lights lined all the Conrad roads but, although decorative, the white light wasn’t very functional.

The trip to the barn usually took a quick four minutes, but tonight the drive seemed foreign in the soggy darkness. She parked near the back of the barn which had a shorter walk to the side door and less chance of being drenched. Hopefully the staff door wasn’t locked.

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