Читать книгу Expecting A Fortune - Jan Colley - Страница 8

A clawing tension descended as Maya Blackstone walked into the room. Skylar straightened her spine, folding her arms protectively around her middle.

“Hi.” Ever curious, Maya scooted around to the side and beamed when she saw who was sitting with Skylar. “Zack! I didn’t know you were back.”

“Gidday, Maya.” Zack slowly got to his feet, a genuine smile on his face. “Just leaving actually, but I’ll be back in a few days.” The smile faded as he turned back to Skylar. “Take good care, Skylar. You have my number.”

He nodded at the two women and walked out.

“Want something to eat?” Skylar felt almost giddy with relief at his leaving, though that was tempered by the knowledge she now had the task of telling everyone about the baby. At least she could do that her own way, without Zack breathing down her neck.

Maya shook her head. “I’m relieved to hear you talk about food,” she said, looking thoughtfully after Zack. “Since you missed our last two dinner dates.”

Maya didn’t come to the house if she could help it so they usually got together once a month at her place in town.

“What brings you here?”

“I came to see if there was any word on Mom. Blake tells me Nash has hired an investigator.”

Blake! He should be first to know, really. She owed him, Skylar thought darkly, for instigating Zack’s visit. And then there was her mother…

Sensing she was the object of avid attention, Skylar looked up into Maya’s curious face.

“So, the handsome Kiwi is back. How do you feel about that?”

May as well get it over with. While she was choosing her words, Maya tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t tell me, I can see. Your usual slobby attire aside, you look great, Skylar. The picture of health.”

She blinked, frowning. “What do you mean, slobby? These jeans are only a year old.”

Her friend grinned. “Come on. You wear your clothes like a shield.” Her nicely manicured fingers flicked toward the front of Skylar’s jacket. “Your wardrobe could do with a complete overhaul.”

“Excuse me for living,” Skylar protested. “Just because Eliza is in Montana with Reese doesn’t mean you have to take over as chief nag.” At least she was spared being dragged all over town to replace her wardrobe and having her half sister camped on her doorstep, making sure she took care of herself.

Anyway, back to the task at hand. Skylar hadn’t told her best friend she’d slept with Zack, though she had mentioned liking him—a lot. “Maya, do you remember the night of Case’s wedding?”

Maya nodded. “The night Eliza got her wish and finally talked you into a dress.”

What a monumental disaster that turned out to be. “And later you barged into the cottage after the fight with Creed?”

Maya’s mouth compressed. Creed was the main reason she didn’t like coming to the house, Skylar suspected. Those two brought out the worst in each other.

“Maya, I was,” she cleared her throat self-consciously “with Zack. That night in the cottage.”

It should have been funny, the openmouthed gape, the dawning horror, but for the life of her, Skylar could not dredge up a smile.

“I didn’t…” Maya stammered, “Oh, no, please, tell me I didn’t interrupt…”

Skylar shook her head glumly. “We made it to the finish line. Just.”

Maya flopped back in her chair, blowing out a long puff of air. “So it’s official. I am now the only virgin left in all of South Dakota.”

Skylar didn’t smile. In fact, for the first time since she’d had the pregnancy confirmed, she put her face in her hands and burst into tears, shocking them both.

Six days later, Skylar heard the screaming from her office and leapt to her feet. Without even knowing how she got there, she hurtled in through the entrance of the stallion barn, yelling for the grooms, then abruptly skidded to a halt.

The main stable housing the twenty-five broodmares she accommodated was ten meters away and most of the mares were out in the pasture, enjoying the spring weather for a few hours. The stallion barn had four stalls, two on one side opening out onto handsome landscaped gardens and a lane that forked and led to two grassed yards, set diagonally apart. The other two stalls opened into the breezeway. That way, even when the stallions were both in residence, they didn’t have to see each other or be led past the other’s stall.

Demetrius, a large fourteen-year-old chestnut, had stood at Fortune Stud for two and a half years. He was middle of the road, his crop placing quite regularly on the track. He was not particularly unruly for a stallion, but when Skylar purchased the prized Black Power a year ago, Deme resented the young usurper. Hence the modified barn. They may have to room together but they did not have to like looking at each other.

Demetrius wasn’t in his box. Over the years, he’d caused great amusement by nudging and nibbling on the bolt of the top Dutch door to his stall until he opened it. Deme’s party trick, they called it, and everyone took special care to check the bottom half was securely latched after mucking out or returning him to his stall.

Both the top and bottom halves of the door were wide-open. An ominous bashing from inside Black Power’s stall down the end told her that her most valuable asset was in trouble. Skylar spun and raced down the outside of the barn.

As she feared, the big chestnut had gone visiting. His ears were back and he lunged his head and neck inside the open top door of the stall. A crunching bang from inside, accompanied by a high-pitched roar drowned out Skylar’s renewed calls for help. Demetrius lunged again, showing his teeth. She glimpsed a flash of black as Ace, Black Power’s stable name, reared up in his prison, his legs flailing in the air around Deme’s head.

“Deme, no!” She leapt toward the horses, wincing when one of Black Power’s legs pounded against the top of the door.

Suddenly an iron grip on her arm hauled her sharply back against a hard wall of muscle.

“No!” Zack Manning said in a low snarl. “Get back.” His eyes blazing, he yanked her roughly to the side of him. “Stay.”

Air jetted from her lungs as she lurched to a standstill.

Stripping off his suit jacket, he flung it at her and began rolling his shirtsleeves up. “Deme, right?” He jerked his head toward the two horses. He’d met both back in January.

“Careful, he can be…”

Zack gave her a scathing look. “Get outta here. Find someone to help, now.” He advanced toward the stallion.

Skylar raced back into the stallion barn to look for a lead and yelled again for Bob, the head groom. Hearing voices, she stuck her head out the door. Her four workers were walking back from the mare’s barn. Urging them to hurry, she rushed back to Zack with them hot on her heels.

Zack had a tight hand on Deme’s halter and was bringing his head down. She saw his lips moving, talking, soothing. The others moved slowly around the horse. She gave the lead to Bob and watched with relief as he clipped it on to the halter. Deme gave another toss of the head and finally was coaxed into taking a backward step.

Her attention was on the stall now. There was another crunching blow that shook the building. Skylar covered her mouth with her hand and prayed. Ace was ten million dollars’ worth of horse, syndicated to the Fortunes and two other parties. Skylar’s biggest gamble, and he was due to serve a mare in less than two hours. The standing fee for this seven-year-old stallion was twelve thousand dollars. Please, God, don’t let him hurt himself.

Her growing reputation amongst breeders in this part of the States was mostly due to the huge investment in Ace. He was a young sire but with fine lineage and his first crop two years ago was already making an impact on sales all over the States.

Bob, the head groom and stallion manager, released Deme into the care of the others and stepped up to the stall. Ace was still playing up, smashing up the stall. Skylar took a couple of anxious steps forward but Zack moved in front of her, shouldering her away. He stood next to Bob who leaned into the Dutch door, talking quietly to the agitated beast.

Her relief overwhelmed her but she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d had a good look at her pride and joy. She stretched and strained behind the two men, subsiding when Zack flicked her a scornful glance before turning his back again.

Frustrated, she bent and scooped up his suit jacket. His arrival had been a surprise. All she’d known for sure was he’d be here before the weekend. She had expected him to phone with more specifics. She hadn’t expected him to just show up at the stable, still in his business suit.

Bob was still talking to Ace. She stood behind them restlessly, trying to peer between Zack’s broad shoulders and the older man’s tall, thin form. Standing on tiptoe, she caught flashes of a sweat-darkened flank as the stallion paced and blew, trembling with rage and fear.

“Is he all right?”

“Let’s give him a few minutes,” Bob muttered, “till he’s calmed some.”

Zack turned abruptly and took her arm. “What the hell were you thinking?” he muttered, propelling her a few feet away.

The adrenaline drained away, leaving impatience and a feeling of defensiveness. “What was I supposed to do? Let him kick himself to…”

“Get help,” he grated.

Skylar frowned at him from under the peak of her cap. “Do you know how much he’s worth?”

Zack stepped up to her, close. She was not short, being five foot nine in her stocking feet, but she sure felt small with his lean body, rigid in anger, looming over her.

“Not as much as that baby you’re carrying,” he said in a deceptively soft voice. “The one you swore an oath to protect.”

Her head dropped. He was right—she should never have gone near the stall. It was instinct driving her. In all honesty, and it was hard to admit it even to herself, she had completely forgotten about being pregnant when she’d heard the screams of the sparring stallions.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think—”

Zack glared down at her. “That’s the last time you don’t think. Starting now, you don’t go near these horses, any of them.”

Her head snapped up and she roasted him with a scowl that matched his own. This was a new side to him, and Skylar didn’t like it one bit. “It’s the busiest time of the year…” she bit out, struggling to hold her temper. Another surprise since she didn’t think she had a temper to hold.

“We’ll manage.” Zack’s eyes were like granite and he stood, legs braced, like an immovable force. “Won’t we, Bob?”

How dare he undermine her authority like that? She heard Bob’s grunt, saw his large ears turn pink and recognized he’d made the judicious decision not to turn his head.

“I have to call the vet,” she muttered, wrenching her arm from his grip. Okay, she was sorry, but when all was said and done, nothing had happened. She and the baby were fine. Pebbles erupted in angry little spurts under her boots as she stomped off toward her office.

Who did he think he was? He and her cousin Max had come to her for help a few months ago, not the other way around. This was her life’s work, for Pete’s sake! Lost in a spiteful exchange that was only in her head, she was suddenly aware he had followed when her office door banged with enough force to rattle the windows.

“While we’re on it,” he said, striding up to her desk, “that goes for riding, too. Till after the baby is born.”

Skylar stopped like a slap and turned slowly to face him. “What?”

He leaned back, folding his arms.

“Zack, I can handle horses. I’ve been riding since I could walk.”

“I ride, too,” he said evenly. “When’s the last time a horse shied on you?”

Her lips parted with a scathing retort. Like a flash, the remembered pain of being dumped unceremoniously on her rear end a few months ago sent the retort up in a puff of smoke. Her hand crept behind herand she gave her backside a quick rub. Roscoe, her ancient gelding, had never liked surprises and a well-camouflaged snake slithering over a log certainly surprised him that day.

Skylar’s shoulders slumped and she gave the unkempt surface of her desk a thorough scrutiny. She was honest enough to admit to receiving her fair share of bruises, even broken bones, over the years from shying horses.

With a downcast face, she saw Zack’s fingers relax a little where they curled around his biceps.

Skylar sank down into her chair. “Is this what it’s going to be like?” she asked quietly.

There was no answer, forcing her to look up.

“Demanding this…demanding that?”

“Horses are unpredictable.”

“I meant you. Not asking. Not talking, just…”

“Where the safety of the baby is concerned, yes.” He punctuated that with a nod, then unfolded his arms and sat. “I’m still learning but you showed me your system in January. With your supervision, from here—” he waved a hand around her office “—and Bob in charge, me and the boys will keep things running smoothly.”

“We’re still covering most days. The summer mares are arriving and there are still half a dozen late foals to come.”

“Well, it’ll be good practice for me when we kick off in our spring.” His tone and gaze did not waver. “Skylar, this is difficult for both of us.”

She nodded sullenly, tapping her desk.

“We need to spend time together, get to know each other. That means I’ll be here every day under your feet. It would be easier if you’d give us a chance.”

Irritated by her tapping fingers, she twisted her hands together. “I don’t like being given orders.”

“I’m not an unreasonable man. I’ll listen to your arguments and concerns. But I won’t let you take any chances with our baby.”

Our baby. He was right, she supposed. This life inside her was precious and fragile, and although she’d like to tell him to mind his own business, this was his business.

She rocked forward, still clasping her hands together. “I guess I can understand that.”

There was a long silence while she swallowed her resentment, let her mind concede that his requests and demands were not so unreasonable. She had already relinquished a lot of her more physical workload over the last weeks in deference to her pregnancy.

“You look good, Skylar. Are you?”

She nodded. Now that the morning sickness had passed, she felt energized by a feeling of well-being and good health. Her mouth softened, remembering yesterday’s ride on Roscoe down by the lake. She’d dropped the reins and just buried her face in his mane, arms around his neck, chattering like a moron. Just because she needed to share the exhilaration, the burgeoning love for this tiny life inside, even if it was just with an old horse.

Could she share with him, the father of her baby? Skylar wanted to, but she didn’t know how to take this grim stranger. He was so different from the attentive, respectful man she had fallen for a few months ago.

Zack’s impending return had filled her with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Would a week see him reconciled to the pregnancy, more reasonable about his insistence on marriage to a virtual stranger?

If today was anything to go by, she was inclined to think not.

Zack arched his spine, acknowledging his body’s exhaustion. He’d crossed umpteen time zones in the last week between the States, New Zealand and Australia and then back to the States. There were arrangements to make for an indefinite absence from his substantial franchise conglomerate. Luckily his wine-maker had completed harvesting in Zack’s absence and there wasn’t much going on at the new stud right now as the foaling and breeding seasons were the opposite of the northern hemisphere. Managing the weanlings comprised the main business at this time of year.

He looked down at his three-hundred-dollar shirt and the expensive suit pants that were now streaked with horse sweat and dust. It was fair to say it hadn’t been a good week.

The rage seeped away but there was enough residue to narrow his eyes when he looked at her. It would take a while to get over seeing the expectant mother of his baby walking up to twelve hundred pounds of loose and agitated horseflesh.

But she did look good, more magnificently pregnant than a week ago. There was no mistaking it now.

A wave of fatigue made him light-headed. Every muscle, every sinew, had jumped to attention and been stretched to the limit. It was adrenaline, jet lag and a measure of stress. He was dead on his feet.

“The doctors are happy?” It was an effort to un-clench his jaw.

She nodded, relaxing a little.

“How did your family take the news?”

Skylar sucked on her bottom lip gently then released it with a small smacking noise. “With varying degrees of amazement.”

That’s what her brother had told him when he phoned two days ago. Zack respected Blake’s directness. He was almost friendly once satisfied of Zack’s intention to marry his sister and that he had no interest in milking the family’s coffers. He even suggested they double up, as he and his fiancée, Sasha, were planning a winter wedding.

Blake had also warned him to tread carefully with Trina, his and Skylar’s mother. Apparently she liked to meddle in the Fortune’s affairs, even to the extent of supplying the tabloids with false information about her own children.

“What about yours?” Skylar asked.

His head raised. The jury was still out on how much to divulge about a rather unusual family situation with his soon-to-be wife. “Surprised,” he told her. “But increasingly happy about becoming a granddad.”

She looked as if she expected more. Less was more, especially concerning his father. “He’s not in the picture much.”

“Is your mother…”

Zack nodded. “She died four years ago after a long illness.” He paused, watching her face carefully. “They hadn’t been together for some time.” What would she feel about that? Skylar Fortune was, after all, a horse breeder. Lineage was important to her, although her own parents did not have a great track record in that respect.

He found only honest curiosity there. Her clear skin and eyes, the slight parting of her wide, shapely lips had him struggling to believe what Blake had let slip on the phone. It was an innocent enough comment, but it confirmed Zack’s suspicions that he was set up four months ago at the wedding. Set up for seduction by this innocent-looking woman.

Why? Was it just about the baby? Did she want the baby, not the man?

He hardened his heart. No one, not Skylar nor her wealthy family was going to cut him out of his baby’s life and run him out of town.

He exhaled and pushed himself slowly to his feet. “I’m beat. I’ll see you tomorrow. Do the boys log on at six or…”