Backstretch Baby (34 page)

Eve couldn’t hear Scott’s low answer. Her face was too hot with anger, resentment and regret. It wasn’t as if Rick was deliberately being mean. On the contrary, he seemed to obsess about Joey’s safety. So much that Joey couldn’t do anything right.

The meal was supposed to be a celebration. But it had been impossible for Rick to avoid Joey, and the results had been disastrous. If it hadn’t been for Rick’s pained expression and the wistful way he kept looking at Joey, she would have been even more furious.

She rose from the table and pried the barbecue tongs from Rick’s tight hand. “Thanks for cooking. But it’s probably time for you to check the horses.”

He gave a lazy shrug of indifference but his eyes were so full of defeat, she felt like crying.

“Good idea,” he said. He strode toward the barn, covering the ground with unusually jerky strides.

Eve turned and dropped the extra food onto a plate. Joey was laughing again, delighted with the tire swing and how Scott was spinning him in tight spirals. The tire was the perfect size, hung at exactly the right height. Rick clearly knew what a young boy liked.

He just couldn’t be around them.

Megan rose from the table, her eyes grave. “What are you going to do?”

Eve swallowed, her throat too thick to talk. She pretended to be engrossed with rescuing a blackened hotdog from the side of the grill. Rick had burnt some food, probably so he had an excuse to feed the orange cat. The animal had long since wandered off, his belly rounded and content.

“What a waste,” she muttered, studiously scraping burnt particles off the grill.

“Maybe he just needs more time,” Megan said. “There’s a Wounded Warrior program that uses retired racehorses. It’s supposed to be effective for post traumatic stress.”

Eve’s hand was shaking, and she laid down the tongs. “Did someone die? Was it a child? Please tell me.”

“It was one of his cases.” Megan blew out a resigned sigh. “Scott won’t say much. Just that it was the reason Rick quit the LAPD. And that he still feels responsible.”

“He likes to look after everyone,” Eve said. “People, horses, cats. He’s just not so good with kids.”

“He can’t help it,” Megan said. “What he’s been through. He was sweating when Joey sat beside him. Even his hands were shaking.”

“I know.” A numbing despair spread through Eve’s chest. “It’s hard on everyone. Joey doesn’t understand.”

“At least you both tried,” Megan said. “Scott said it was huge that Rick even cut his hair. He’d more or less retreated from polite society.”

Eve’s heart twisted. They both had tried. But maybe they could keep seeing each other, and she’d just keep him away from Joey. Give him time to heal. And that might work for her and Rick, but it certainly wouldn’t help Joey.

She looked at her son, grinning up at Scott. Ketchup stained the side of his mouth, and his shirt was dirty and clearly he’d had a very fun day. He didn’t ask for much, just a little attention. And a father figure.

“Scott would love to see more of Joey,” Megan went on. “I know you don’t have much interest in the jewelry business, but you could learn. And it would be a steady income. You’d be free of Victoria.”

Eve closed the lid of the barbecue. She couldn’t imagine life without horses. They’d always been her passion. She barely noticed jewelry, not even the shiny silver stuff around Megan’s neck or the pretty green things swinging from her ears. She was more interested in types of race shoes and the size of the nails and the beautiful way a horse stepped out when his feet were feeling good.

But tonight everything seemed bleak. And a responsible mother needed a steady income. She glanced at Joey, and her heart gave that familiar kick of pure love. And she knew there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him.

“Your jewelry is nice,” she said slowly. “And I like the silver necklace you gave me. Do you still sell on the Internet? I wouldn’t have to work in a store or anything?”

“No. Everything is online. But demand is growing. And I need to oversee the quality.”

Eve stared dubiously at her fingers. She had good hands with a horse, a rider’s hands. But she could barely thread a needle. And the idea of sitting inside a cramped room for hours at a time, doing some mumbo jumbo with silver and pointed tools almost made her stomach heave.

But she would have a steady income. And a boring but safe job. Besides, it was for a good cause since most profits from the Megan Spence Collection were donated to troubled teens. Megan had even set up a jockey fund in her brother’s memory. That was certainly worth supporting.

“It would be good for everyone,” Megan said. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”

Eve squeezed her eyes shut. Then she squared her shoulders and looked into Megan’s hopeful face. “I will,” she said.

“Stinger has a cut on the inside of his left front ankle,” Ashley said, stepping into the RV. “Rick doesn’t think it’s anything to worry about but he wanted you to know.”

And he didn’t want to come and tell me himself, Eve thought. She automatically poured Ashley a glass of water.

Ashley took the glass and plunked down at the kitchen table across from Joey. “Is that your bedtime snack?” she asked, eyeing Joey’s carrot sticks.

“Yeah. And you can have some.” He pushed the plate toward her. “Because I have lots.”

“Thanks.” Ashley snagged a piece of carrot. “I need to eat more of these. The guards don’t have them around much. But I like them.”

“Me too,” Joey said happily. “And so does my pony. My real pony, not the one Mommy gave me.”

“You have a real pony?”

He gave a crooked grin. “Yes, she’s pretty and has white spots. But I can’t keep her at my apartment. She has to live at the ranch where Aunt Megan lived when she was little.”

“Wow, that’s cool you have your own pony.” Ashley crunched her carrot and glanced at Eve. “You’re so lucky to have Scott and Megan. Wish I had godparents like that.”

Eve gave a tight nod and continued rinsing the dishes. The toy pony she’d bought had been largely ignored. Joey had held it for a few seconds, pressed its belly once, then tossed it aside. But she understood his disinterest. A stuffed pony could never compete with the real thing.

“I need to give you the money we made betting.” Ashley reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled wad of cash. “Eight-two dollars. Thank you, Stinger. Want me to stick it in the box Juanita left?”

“Better not,” Eve said. “We’re sending the fund through the bank. And Rick wants to check the contents again before the box is mailed.”

“Looking for something, like a clue?”

“Camila had a diary. Kept daily notations of the horses she looked after. He wants to read through it in case there’s something else.”

“Well, you better take this money before I spend it.” Ashley rose and pressed the bills into Eve’s hand. “And tomorrow afternoon, I can stick around. Maybe take Joey over to barn nineteen and see the pot-bellied pig.”

Joey’s eyes widened. “I’ve never seen a real pig.”

“Good. Then it’s a date.” Ashley reached out and gave him a high five. “We’ll even take the pig something to eat. Something yucky that we don’t mind sharing. Certainly not delicious carrots.”

Eve gave a grateful smile. Everyone was being helpful, trying to make sure Joey enjoyed his stay. And Ashley was surprisingly good with kids.

“I can take him up to an hour,” Ashley whispered, as she headed out the door. “After that, my patience disappears. That’s why I don’t know what to do. Liam says I have options. I only know that sometimes I want to keep this baby.” She flattened her hand over her protruding belly. “Other times I’m thinking adoption is best.”

You’re going to have to decide soon, Eve thought, but refrained from voicing the words. She’d grown accustomed to Ashley’s flip flopping. And pushing never helped. It was a monumental decision, made even harder by financial constraints. Luckily the horses had won this weekend. Not only would Ashley earn her eight hundred dollar salary but she’d also have a bonus this month.

“When will Jackson send our money?” Ashley paused in the doorway, as if reading Eve’s mind. “He must be happy. Think he’ll let us stay?”

“I left a bunch of messages,” Eve said. “But I haven’t talked to him yet.”

He hadn’t returned her calls, hadn’t even commented on the win photo, but on the positive side Victoria hadn’t picked up his phone.

“I’m sure he watched the replays,” Eve added. “He must be proud of Tizzy and Stinger. And you and Miguel.”

“Heard he lost a big owner yesterday,” Ashley said. “Someone who had a public run-in with Victoria. Doesn’t sound like she’s helping his business much.”

Eve gave a reluctant nod. According to her contacts, Victoria’s unpleasantness hadn’t been restricted to employees, and owners were definitely grumbling.

“After this meet is over,” Eve said, “and we go back to Santa Anita, we might have to find other work. I figure we have a month or two. Maybe after the baby, you can ride for another stable.”

“But what will you do?” Ashley’s concerned gaze shot to Joey who was totally absorbed with dipping carrots in his glass of milk.

“Megan has a successful jewelry line. She said she needs help.”

“That would totally suck.” Ashley’s eyes widened with horror. “I’d die away from the track.”

Something in Eve’s chest felt like it was dying too, but she forced a shrug. “At least Joey will be secure. And I’ll have lots of nice jewelry.”

“Except for a little silver necklace,” Ashley said, “you don’t even wear the stuff.”

She yanked open the door, tramped down the three metal steps, then turned at the bottom. “Victoria really messed things up for everyone. How about I ask Liam about jobs for you and Miguel? He has lots of influence here.”

“Ask about Miguel,” Eve said. “He’d be a great pee catcher. He’s good with horses. Loyal and steady.”

Ashley smiled, but it was rather sad. “For once, you better worry about yourself. Because I can’t see you happy sitting at a table stringing beads.”

She shook her head and headed back toward the barn.

Eve closed the door, balled the dishrag in her hands, and tossed it into the sink. She didn’t think she’d be stringing beads, more like jewels and feathers, although it probably didn’t matter. And then she realized she hadn’t even cared enough to ask.

“I can’t wait to see the pig with the big belly,” Joey said. A piece of orange carrot was stuck between his front teeth. “That lady’s nice.”

“Everyone here is nice.” Eve picked up his empty plate.

“Not that big man. He’s mean.”

She yanked on the tap and rinsed the plate. There was no need to ask who Joey was talking about. “Rick’s nice,” she said. “He’s just not used to children.”

“Well, I don’t like him. Can I sleep with the light on?” Joey asked, his mind already flipping to a different subject.

She wished it were that easy for her. “Of course,” she said. “Rick left you a night light. It’s in the shape of a soccer ball.”

She reached for the bag on the counter, remembering his words earlier that day. ‘There’s no skylight in the spare bedroom,’ he’d said. ‘And it’s really dark at night. Joey might not admit it, but he may want this.’

He’d placed the bag on the counter and then kissed her. And his concern was so genuine, and she thought everything would work out. But that was eight hours ago, before Joey arrived. Before it was apparent Rick didn’t want anything to do with him. And that was his loss because Joey was the best kid in the world.

She stooped and gave Joey a heartfelt hug. He smelled of fresh air and soap and beloved boy, and it was impossible not to squeeze too tightly. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.

“Me too, Mommy.” He waited a polite moment before squirming away. “I better take my horse to bed with me.” He grabbed the toy off the chair. “So he doesn’t get scared being here alone.”

Eve smiled.

Gravel crunched and she glanced out the window. A security vehicle pulled up in front of the barn, its engine running. She didn’t like how the exhaust spewed so close to the barn door, but seconds later Ashley slipped into the passenger seat, and the Jeep rolled away. Liam might not be sensitive to air quality for the horses, but at least he was conscientious about keeping her staff safe.

She turned away. She didn’t know where Rick planned to sleep tonight but it was obvious he was avoiding the RV.

Two hours later, long after she’d eased out of Joey’s bed, a low rap sounded.

She rose from the kitchen table and pulled open the door. Rick stood on the steps. The light cast a shadow over his face and all she could see was his chiseled jaw. His mouth was hard and stern, and he looked more like a cop than any of the security guards.

“I need to pick up Camila’s box,” he said. “But not the money. You should send that to Guatemala. Quick as you can.”

“Thanks.” She gave a wobbly smile, but he didn’t return it. In fact his mouth turned even more grim.

“Did you know it was me before you unlocked the door?” he asked.

“The door wasn’t locked.”

“It should be,” he said. “Victoria may be neutralized but Camila’s killer is still at large.”

She swallowed back her hurt, not wanting to admit she’d left it unlocked in case he wanted to come and talk. Or even just to slip in later and have a more comfortable place to sleep. The two bedrooms were occupied but the kitchen bench folded into a bed. And it was his RV.

“Victims are often a product of their own negligence,” he added, his voice clipped.

“There’s no need to talk like a cop,” she said, “just because you had a haircut.”

She caught a glimmer of a smile before his face blanked. Clearly, he was shutting her out, along with Joey, but probably it was easier that way. After all, it wasn’t a cop she’d fallen in love with.

“The box is still in the closet.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “But I need to talk to you about this RV. It’s not fair we’re driving you out, but I was hoping you’d let us use it for the week. After Joey leaves, I’ll move back in with Ashley. I’ll pay you, of course, once Jackson sends our bonus money.”