Читать книгу If Wishes Were Horses - Carolyn McSparren - Страница 10

CHAPTER FOUR

THE VAN PICKED UP the campers at three that afternoon. At three-twenty Pat mounted Wishbone while Liz held his bridle. At three-thirty Pat allowed herself to be played out on the lunge line.

At a quarter to four Pat decided she could walk around all by hersetf—no lunge tine.

At ten minutes to four Liz sat down on a jump in the center of the ring while Pat walked around the perimeter all by herself. By four-fifteen she decided she was ready to trot. Pat didn’t bother communicating this to Liz. She simply kicked Wishbone hard in his sides. Surprised, he woke up, grunted and obligingly trotted forward.

Pat dropped the reins, dug both hands into the pony’s mane and yelped. Liz ran to her and grabbed Wishbone after five strides.

“Our deal is that you do what I tell you, young lady, and not what you think you’d like to try,” Liz said.

Pat threw her leg over the pony’s side. “I want to get down now.”

“No way. Quit now and you’ll never get back on.”

“But my daddy says...”

“Your daddy is not here. Get down now and don’t bother to come back tomorrow.”

Pat sniffled, picked up her reins and walked forward. She gulped when Liz let go and stepped away, but she stuck it out for another five minutes.

“Okay. Now you can dismount. It’s hot and the pony’s tired.” Liz instructed Pat in the proper way to dismount—a way that did not involve throwing the reins up in the air and yelling like a coyote. “Walk him in and give him a bath. Albert will show you how.”

Pat took the pony’s reins and began to move toward the stable door.

“Oh, and Pat?”

Pat looked over her shoulder.

“You did good.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Pat’s face glowed.

As Liz walked into the stable behind Pat she heard the telephone ring and raced to pick it up. “ValleyCrest,” she breathed.

“Hey, Liz,” a familiar female voice said, “This is Angie.” She sounded subdued. “Are you still speaking to me?”

“You mean, since you left ValleyCrest and went over to the competition? I guess so. What’s up?”

Silence, then a deep breath. “I need a favor. A really big favor. This afternoon.”

Liz waited.

“I don’t know whether anybody told you, but I decided to breed my mare Boop.”

“I heard.”

“Thing is, she’s due to foal any minute now and I have absolutely got to go to Europe for a few days on business. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m terrified she’ll foal while I’m gone. Kevin refuses to be responsible. Says he delivers human babies, not horse babies.”

“So, doesn’t Mark have a stall available?”

Another deep breath. “I don’t trust him to handle the birth, either.” Angie went on in a rush. “He’s never foaled a mare in his life, and he couldn’t be less interested. He’s furious that I even bred her.”

“So he won’t take her?”

“Oh, he’ll take her, all right, but I have no intention of leaving her with him unless I can’t con you.” The voice became a wheedle. “Please, Liz, please. I know I was a total monster to abandon you and Vic the way I did for Mark’s barn. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Liz felt a wave of elation. Angie Womack was an excellent rider who kept two very expensive hunters on board and training year round. Her OB-Gyn husband provided her with unlimited funds. If she came back to ValleyCrest, others might follow. The Womacks were good people. Besides, no way could Liz let that mare foal under Mark Hardwick’s tender mercies. “Sure,” Liz said. “Bring her on. I’ll have a double stall waiting for her.”

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” Angie said.

Liz smiled and went to tell Vic and Albert that they were back in the baby business.

Angie’s big two-horse trailer pulled into the yard ten minutes later and Angie jumped out. She wore baggy jeans and an Olympic T-shirt with the sleeves ripped out. Her hair was almost as short as Albert’s and nearly as curly. She was burned brown by the summer sun, and she was grinning from ear to ear. She ran to Liz and Vic and hugged them both. “Yell at me, I deserve it.”

“Let’s get that mare bedded down first,” Vic said and smiled at Angie. “Then we’ll yell at you. You did bring the foal predictor kit? I’m not sitting up with this lady every night until you get back.”

“I’ve got it in the car.” She smiled over Liz’s shoulder at Pat, who stood in the doorway. “Hey. I’m Angie.”

Pat nodded, obviously fascinated.

Two minutes later a broad chestnut mare backed out of the trailer.

“Wow!” Pat said and ran to pet the mare.

“Be careful, she’s pretty grumpy. She wants that baby out of there,” Angie said as she led the mare into the barn with complete familiarity. Vic winked at Liz.

“Can I help?” Pat asked as she trailed along. “Daddy won’t be here for another thirty minutes—if he’s on time. Half the time he’s not.”

“Come on,” Angie said amiably.

“You do that, kiddo,” Liz said. “I’ve got to get on Trust Fund before feeding time.”

She was still riding when Mike Whitten arrived and found Pat sitting on a tack trunk helping Albert wash down stirrup leathers.

“You’re too early,” Pat wailed.

Mike checked his watch. “Actually, I’m five minutes late. Are you supposed to be that dirty?”

“Oh, Daddy. I’ve been riding and grooming, and come see the mare who’s about to have a baby.” She pulled her father down the aisle. Outside in the arena he glimpsed Liz cantering by on that same big horse.

“Daddy, I’ve got to finish helping Albert,” Pat said. “You go on outside and wait for me.”

“Pat...”

“Daddy! It’s my first day!”

He gave in, but instead of going to his car he walked out to stand beside the arena and watch Liz.

She hadn’t even acknowledged Mike’s presence, not that he expected her to. She turned the horse down the center toward a pair of big jumps. Mike felt his heart in his mouth. Trust Fund sailed over the first and cantered down to the second.

The horse stopped dead one stride from the fence and dropped both his head and his shoulder. Mike didn’t expect that. Apparently neither did Liz. She did a somersault in midair and came down on the far side of the jump flat on her back with a whump that raised a cloud of dust. She didn’t move.

Mike vaulted the fence, raced to where she lay and knelt in the dirt beside her. The horse shied away.

Liz was on her back, her eyes open and staring, her mouth wide. She didn’t seem to be breathing. As his knees hit the dirt she sucked in a huge breath that sounded like a death rattle.

“Don’t move,” Mike snapped. “You may have broken your neck.”

Liz turned her head on a neck that was obviously still in working order. “I’m fine,” she gasped. “Knocked my breath out.” She put both hands against her diaphragm and pushed. “Better.” She raised onto her elbows. “Nothing broken.”

Mike put one arm behind her waist and the other behind her knees and scooped her up. She was no lightweight, but at that point he figured he had enough adrenaline pumping to move Brooklyn Bridge. He began to walk as quickly as he could toward the stable.

“Hey!”

“Where are you hurt?” he asked, afraid for a moment he might have done her more harm than good.

“I’m not hurt, I’m mad as hell. I’m mad at Trusty, mad at myself, and if you do not put me down his instant I am going to be really mad at you.”

“Fine.” He dropped her legs.

The instant she touched down she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. “Oh, heck. Just let me stand here a minute until I get my breath back.”

Mike suspected that small request cost her dearly.

It cost him as well. She stood in the circle of his arm, her breast and hip against his side, her breath against his cheek. He closed his eyes and relished the feel of warm woman against him. Too long since he’d felt it.

After a moment she let go of his neck, but he kept his arm around her waist in case she should feel rocky again. And because he liked having her in his arms.

She disengaged herself carefully and took a couple of steps toward the horse, who stood at the far side of the ring eyeing her sheepishly. “Trusty, you old fool, come here.”

The horse meandered over. Mike caught his reins.

“Thanks,” Liz said. “Give me a leg up.”

“You’re not getting back up there!”

“Of course I am.” She sounded surprised. “If I let him get away with that nonsense, he’ll do it again.”

“You need to be checked over by a doctor before you ride again.”

“The hell I do. Now, are you going to give me a leg up or what?”

She bent her knee. Mike tossed her into the saddle so hard that she nearly tumbled over the other side.

“Wow!” she said. “You try tossing Pat that hard and she’ll come down in the back pasture.” She moved away and said over her shoulder, “Better get out of the way while Trusty and I have our little prayer meeting.” She trotted off.

He watched her bottom rise and sink in the saddle and discovered he was having visions that he should not have about his child’s riding teacher. He dusted himself off and walked to the edge of the arena. This time he used the gate. He turned to see Liz heading for that pair of huge fences again. He crossed his fingers and held his breath.

Trusty sailed over both jumps perfectly. Liz pulled him down to a walk immediately and came over toward Mike. “That’s enough. What you saw earlier, Mr. Whitten, was an example of ‘quitting dirty.”’

Mike opened the gate.

“Most of the time horses telegraph that they don’t intend to jump. Trusty occasionally stops with his toenails in the fence. This is the first time he’s gotten me off, but I’ve held on to his ears a couple of times.” She grinned and patted the big horse’s neck. “Quitting dirty is a very bad habit.” She smacked Trusty lightly on his thick neck. “Remember that.”

Albert came out of the barn and stood with his hands on his hips. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked. “You look like you’ve rolled in the dirt.”

“I did.”

Albert took the reins and glanced at Mike. “So does he. And he’s not dressed for it.”

Liz swung off and leaned against Trusty’s shoulder for a moment.

“You okay?” Albert asked.

“My bruises are having bruises as we speak, but yeah, I’m fine. Just rang my chimes a little bit.”

Albert shook his head and led the horse off. Liz put both hands in the small of her back and stretched, then took two steps toward the stable.

“Ow!” she yelped, and grabbed the back of her left thigh. “Ow, ow, ow, ow!”

Mike reached for her. She snaked her arm back around his neck and held on.

“Charley horse.” Liz grimaced in pain. “Ow, ow, ow,” she repeated.

She hobbled to the mounting block with Mike’s help. Pity she had to be in pain before she’d let him near her.

Mike lowered her so that she sat on the block, and he knelt in front of her. “Stretch your heel down.”

“No way!”

He grabbed the heel of her boot and pulled down hard. She yelped again, but she kept it down when he took his hands away. He reached around her thigh and began to knead. He could feel the knotted muscle. After a moment it began to loosen. He heard her sigh.

He, on the other hand, felt other portions of his body tighten and hoped nobody would notice. He was entirely too susceptible to this woman. His attraction to her had been powerful and immediate. That had only happened to him once before—the first time he laid eyes on Sandi. Sandi, at least, had liked him—loved him, in fact. Liz Matthews made no bones about her dislike.

“You’re good at this,” Liz said and leaned back with a sigh.

“Tennis and handball are notorious for tying up your muscles. You either learn to unkink them fast or walk with a cane.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m sorry I snarled at you. I hate having anybody see me fall. Makes me feel like a fool.”

“No problem.”

She began to giggle. “You’re as dirty as I am.”

He shrugged and stood in front of her. “Dry cleaners clean.”

“Yeah.” She pulled herself up. At that moment, Pat came around the corner followed by Vic and Angie. “You fall?” Vic asked with studied casualness.

“Trusty quit dirty on me. I’m okay.” She cocked her thumb at Pat. “I think your daddy’s ready to go. And Pat, better wear jeans tomorrow.” She limped toward the lounge.

Mike watched her. She hurt considerably more than she was willing to let on. Maybe she’d cracked a rib. He ought to drag her to a doctor just to be sure. She’d never go. Hardheaded, opinionated damned female. He caught his breath. Great, he thought, now I’ve got two of them to worry about. Where in hell had that thought come from.

“WHO WAS THAT masked man?” Angie asked as she flopped down in one of the shabby leather club chairs in the clients’ lounge. The sound of Mike’s Volvo on the gravel driveway was just fading.

Liz lay stretched on the equally shabby leather couch.

Angie continued, “There’s something realty—grrrr—sexy about him.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Liz lied. “You’re a married woman. You shouldn’t be growling at other men.”

“Shoot, I growl at everybody.”

“Unfortunately, so does he.” Liz sat up slowly. She was really beginning to stiffen up. “He’s Mike Whitten, the chairman of the board of trustees at Edenvale School. The guy we have to convince to give us their after-school riding program this fall.”

“That’s Mike Whitten?” Angie began to laugh. “God help you. Kevin knows him from the racquet club. Says he’s rumored to drink a quart of antifreeze every morning just to keep his blood circulating.”

“I can believe it.” Liz began to knead her shoulders. “He’s Mr. Iceberg to everyone except that kid of his.”

“Well, I think he’s gorgeous in a craggy sort of way. Anyway, enough about the intimidating Mr. Whitten. Am I back in your good graces?”

“Partially.”

Vic came in, dug a diet soda out of the refrigerator and took the club chair across from Angie. She looked her niece over carefully. “You really okay?”

“Sure. And feeling foolish.”

Angie sighed, leaned forward and dropped her brown hands between her knees. “Liz isn’t the only one feeling foolish.”

“Why did you leave us?” Vic asked.

Angie hunched her shoulders and took a deep breath. “After Frank died, I stopped winning. I knew it wasn’t your fault, but I thought if I went over to Mark I could start winning again. And I did, too, for a little while.”

“What went wrong?”

“God, everything. He started badgering me to sell both my horses and let him find me some better ones—meaning more expensive. He was furious when I refused, and even more furious when I decided to breed Boop against his wishes.”

“Why did you?” Liz asked.

Angie blushed. “It’s being around Kevin and all those babies. I wanted a baby—something to love, even if it was a foal. And I’ll move Charlie here too if you’ve got room for another jumper.”

“Absolutely,” Vic said.

“Okay,” Angie said. “I’ll leave you a letter of authorization to pick up Charlie tomorrow and bring him here.”

“And the problem of not winning that Mark was supposed to solve for you...?”

Angie shrugged. “I can’t ride Boop until her baby is six months old and weaned. Then it’ll take another three months to get her in condition to jump again. That puts us into next spring, so I won’t be riding any hunters unless I can pick up a few rides for some of your clients, or maybe even for Liz, if she’s got too many horses to ride.”

“We’ll be glad to have you,” Vic said.

“So you don’t care about winning any longer?” Liz asked. “Don’t believe that for a second.”

Angie sat up straight and held her hands out. “Hey, you two are far and away the best trainers I know. I intend to win with you. ValleyCrest is developing clout again with the pair of you. The people that matter are noticing you.” She raised her eyebrows. “You’re even starting to scare a few people like Mark. Goody, goody.”

LATER, after Liz and Vic shared a salad and a chicken sandwich, Liz bedded all her animals for the night, including Jacko the parrot, and climbed into her old clawfooted tub to soak her bruises in a herbal bath. As she sank into the blissfully hot water, she wondered what Mike Whitten was having for dinner with his Pitti-Pat. Healthy junk. She smiled. He had no idea she and Pat were conspiring against him.

She felt a tingle in the pit of her stomach as she remembered the feel of his muscular arm around her, his long fingers on her thigh. Much to her disgust she agreed with Angie. He did exude a kind of wild sexiness.

Liz hadn’t been interested in any man in a very long time. Not only were the pickings slim, but she told herself she didn’t have time for another relationship that would wind up going nowhere. Men did not like to share her attention with the horses. They resented the fact that the horses came first. Always had, always would. And so would the dogs, the cats and the parrots. Animals didn’t break your heart. Men invariably did.

But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to feel Mike’s arm around her again. Would it be worth falling off a very tall horse to get him to touch her?

“Nah,” she said aloud and closed her eyes. “Although I could always fall off a shorter horse.”