Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (129 page)

“Martha?”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “No, Becky. Best nurse ever. I’m sure she won’t have trouble finding another job.”

He set his mug in the sink, the clink loud as it rattled against several dirty dishes. Of course Becky would have to find another job. Rather quickly too, if Martha didn’t return to her mansion. He was moving anyway, so it was irrelevant where she went; any job would be too far from his isolated ranch. Too far for any meaningful relationship.

He stepped over some toy horses scattered on the carpet and walked toward the door. “Gotta go. But drop by Conrad’s and visit whenever you need space.” He gave a wry smile. “I promise not to make you work.”

“Really.” Her face lit up. “I’d love to come and enjoy the place. Not much I can do though, except give advice to your new gallop girl.”

“Advice is always appreciated.” He glanced around the tiny apartment. Not bad if only used for sleeping, but anything more and it would turn cramped in a hurry. “Guess you and your daughter could always move into Slim’s place,” he said thoughtfully. “Be temporary, but free. If Ted has any say, he’ll sell out damn quick, but you should get at least six months there. And you could do some of Slim’s job, help Cody with the horses until they’re disbursed.”

“Really? Oh, Dino!” She squealed with delight—obviously forgetting her kid was napping—and flung her arms around his neck. “You really are the kindest man. I’d love to convalesce at Conrad’s. And I’ll organize Slim’s things. Do my share to help.”

He gave her shoulder an affectionate pat, careful to avoid the arm with the cast. “All right. I’ll tell Martha when I go to the hospital. And maybe you can look after Slim’s cat. Now I really gotta go.”

“In a rush to get back to the hospital? And probably not just to see Martha.” She grinned. “Be careful. Your playboy reputation is slipping.”

He rolled his eyes but her knowing laugh followed him to his truck, lingered as he rumbled back onto the highway.

Jill’s drawing fluttered on the seat. He eased his foot off the accelerator, thinking of Slim as he slowed the pickup to just over the limit. Probably the man had been speeding and swerved to avoid an animal. Maybe even a loose horse.

Slim definitely would have tried to avoid a horse. Most horses. Maybe not Lyric. It must have been bittersweet to see Jill draw pictures of the mare that had derailed her life. Ironically, that seemed to be the only horse she remembered.

He shook his head, trying to banish useless, sentimental thoughts. Some things simply couldn’t be changed. No sense brooding. Best to keep it simple. Set goals, go after them, have a little fun along the way.

Although he’d have to remember to snap some pictures of Lyric. Maybe Becky would help with that. Groom Lyric for a photo. Come with him to visit Jill. Maybe move down south with him.

Whoa
. Where did that come from? He blew out an exasperated breath. She wouldn’t like his ranch anyway; it was much too isolated. She’d want a nursing job close by so she could visit Martha in her fancy retirement home. Martha was definitely more than an employer, and Becky would be ripped in two if she were far away. Her face would turn all pinched and sad, and he couldn’t go through that again. No way.

It wouldn’t be smart to piss off Martha either—he hoped to keep her best horses in training, at least until they were sold. Although all the politics and second guessing didn’t really matter anymore.

He’d done it. He had his ranch, his own slice of heaven. Godammit, he’d done it. But he stared through the windshield at the gray stretch of highway and wondered why the accomplishment felt so hollow.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Three tractors harrowed the oval by the time Dino reached Lone Star. High noon and not a horse in sight, not even on the hot walkers. Once training hours were over, the bustling backside slowed to a crawl. He eased his pickup to a stop, relieved Shane’s vehicle was still on the grounds. Tomorrow he’d come for the gallops although that meant he’d have to stay at his apartment and not at Conrad’s. Damn he hoped Becky was doing okay.

He walked toward his shedrow, texting her a message:
Hope Martha’s okay. Will bring supper tonight
. Entered the shedrow. Horses eyed him curiously. Hunter stuck his head over the door then dismissed him and returned to his hay net.

The colt looked good. Legs wrapped, coat sleek. He’d even put on a few pounds following his nasal infection.
Goddamn, Slim
. Dino rubbed his forehead. The man had been mixed-up and bitter about Jill, but Dino couldn’t quite forgive him for sponging Hunter. Couldn’t understand it either. Now he never would.

Becky wanted to hide Slim’s treachery from Martha, but Dino didn’t believe in coddling. The truth was the truth.

“Afternoon, boss,” Shane called. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it today. How’s my favorite girl?”

Dino blew out a sigh. So what if Shane was half in love with his woman. Becky didn’t look at Shane the way she looked at him, and she had a lot more depth than Laura. Maybe they could even make this thing work. Four hundred miles wasn’t that far. He had a good truck and, besides, he’d never needed much sleep.

“She sore anywhere?”

Dino stared at Shane, eyes narrowing. This was getting a little too personal.

Shane backed up a step. “Just wondered how she moved today. Quite an effort, you know, fast time.”

Echo, of course
. What the hell was wrong with him? He nodded quickly. “She’s perfect, legs nice and tight, sound as a dollar.”

“Thanks for letting me saddle yesterday. A real honor. And she made us all a chunk of money.”

Especially me. That filly earned me my bonus
. Dino gestured at his office. “Let’s grab a coffee and go over our plans for San Antonio. You’ll be looking at more responsibility there. And more pay.” His words came out, slowly at first then in a rush. “I’ll be moving around a bit, between my ranch, San Antonio…and Conrad’s.”

“What about Mrs. Conrad’s horses? A bloodstock agent dropped by, interested in Hunter and a few others. Left his card.”

“I expect she’ll sell over the next few months. Have everything dispersed by the fall. Unfortunately Slim’s death hit her hard.”

Shane blew out a ragged sigh. “I told the staff, like you asked. Hard to believe he was walking around here yesterday, right as rain.”

“Slim was here? At Lone Star?”

“Yeah. Looked worn out. Wouldn’t surprise me if he fell asleep at the wheel.”

What time of day was that?” Dino asked.

“I don’t know. Just before night feed. I assumed he came to watch the race.”

“Was he near Hunter?” Dino’s voice sharpened.

“No, boss. You know we watch the horses close. No one’s allowed to feed or go in their stalls.”

Dino nodded, his tension easing. “Was he drinking?”

“No. Just grabbed a Coke from the fridge, talked a little and left. Looked exhausted though. Eyes all baggy.”

So Slim really
had
fallen asleep. No need for him—for anyone—to feel guilty.

Gravel rattled, and a Jeep with orange roof lights pulled up to the door, stopping too fast, parking too close. He scowled as exhaust drifted down the aisle. Horses needed good air, and this wasn’t even a vet or farrier, only a security vehicle. Those people never thought about the horses, too preoccupied with rules and regulations.

A second vehicle rammed beside the first, and three grim-faced men trooped into the barn.

“Dino Anders?” the short one asked.

“Right here.” Sighing, he walked toward them. Some saddles had been stolen from barn fourteen, and one of his grooms had been charged with theft. This was probably follow-up but it was bad timing. He wanted to hurry back to Becky. Seemed shit never stopped.

“We’re here to inspect your office and feed room,” the short security guard said.

Dino gestured at his office. “Go ahead. Door’s open. Saddles are around the corner although they’re all legit.” He glanced back at Shane, dismissing the guards. “We’ll work Hunter five furlongs tomorrow. Call Brad’s agent and see if he can ride next week.”

Voices rose, intrusive and oddly triumphant. “Mr. Anders? Are these your needles?”

He spun around in disbelief. “Fuck, no! Where’d you find them?”

“In the fridge, behind the milk. I’m afraid we have to report this as possession.”

They dropped some vials and needles into a plastic bag. Dino stared, stunned to silence. Shane’s face was white and he looked just as shocked.

“As the trainer on record, you’re responsible for these drugs,” the tall officer said.

Dino squeezed his eyes shut. A muscle ticked in his left jaw. When he opened his eyes, the solemn men were still standing in the aisle, still holding the needles, still staring in accusation. “I know the rules,” he said, his voice rusty. “How long’s the suspension?”

“Medication infraction—first offence, thirty days.”

Jesus. Thirty fucking days. He felt like a criminal.

“And we’re bringing a vet to pull blood from your horses.”

“Please do,” he snapped. “Test every single one. And I’ll be fighting this at the damn hearing.”

“No need to swear, Mr. Anders.”

His phone chirped and he scanned the display. Shot a warning scowl at the listening officers, turned and took the call.

***

“You look tired, dear.”

Becky opened her eyes and scrambled from the hard hospital chair. “Oh, Martha, I was so worried.”

“Was it my heart again?”

Becky nodded, her fingers automatically reaching for Martha’s hand. “Not bad though. They don’t think there’s any damage. The paramedics were wonderful.”

Martha’s face blanched in memory. “I can’t believe Slim is dead. What happened?” Sorrow cracked her voice.

Becky hesitated. The doctors wanted to keep her calm.

“Tell me.” Martha’s voice rose.

“It was a highway accident,” Becky said. “No one else was involved. He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Died instantly.”

Martha closed her eyes, but moisture seeped from the corners. “We’ll make sure he has a nice funeral,” she finally said. “Ask Jocelyn to help. She’s good with funerals. Organized two for Ted. Don’t know what to do about Jill though.” Her fingers twisted at the edge of the sheet.

“I’ll check into that,” Becky said. “You rest, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You’re a good girl.” Her gaze drifted to Becky’s neck, and her mouth curved in a weak smile. “Glad you’re wearing those pearls. I want you to have my diamonds too. But you need some makeup. You look pale, and your hair needs washing. Never let your looks go.” She made a disapproving sound then closed her eyes.

Becky almost choked with relief. Doctors had been cautiously optimistic, but the fact that Martha was already worrying about her nurse’s appearance was far more reassuring than any medical report. She turned away, jerking in shock at the figure framed in the doorway.

“Satisfied?” Ted’s sneer was low and nasty, and she edged back a step.

“What do you mean?”

“Trying to weasel into her affections. First pearls, then diamonds. Well, it won’t work. The will is made, and she doesn’t look healthy.”

“Shut up, Ted.” Anger propelled her forward, and she grabbed his arm. “If you’re going to talk like this,” she hissed, “at least have the decency to take it outside.”

His arm was hard and sinewy and revolting. Everything about him was revolting. But she tugged him out the door, turned and shut it behind them. “I resent your nasty insinuations,” she added in a more level voice. “Your aunt’s wellbeing has always been my biggest concern. If you’re going to make negative comments, I’ll insist you’re banned from her room. Because contrary to what you think, she has plenty of life left.”

“Plenty of life left.” His mouth thinned. “One can only hope. And I do apologize but I’ve been worried. Now please advise me of
my
aunt’s condition.”

“She had another heart attack, mild though. Not as bad as the first.” Becky crossed her arms. “There doesn’t seem to be much damage. They’re still running tests.”

“But clearly it’s time she moves. She needs more support, more of a buffer. I assume selfishness about your job won’t affect your professional opinion?” He raised an eyebrow.

She numbly shook her head.

“Good,” he said. “Living in a large house, owning a stable of racehorses, simply has too many inherent risks. She can’t deal with much shock, and it’s best she move. I’m glad we agree on that. I’ll talk to Mr. Anders or that other man, Slim, about the fastest way to dispose of the animals.”

“Slim’s dead,” Becky said dully. “And we’re not doing anything until Martha makes the decision. After the doctors’ input.”

“Dead? What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry.” She softened her voice, surprised by Ted’s reaction. “He died in a highway accident yesterday.”

“When? After the races?”

“I’m not sure. The fact is, he died unnecessarily and people who cared for him, people like your aunt, are upset.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. But why didn’t someone tell me? And who’s going to manage the place?” He pivoted and walked slowly down the corridor.

She pressed a hand against the wall, confused and exhausted. Ted seemed genuinely upset about Slim but less concerned about his aunt. A chill snaked down her back and she resolved never to leave him alone with Martha. It would be a simple matter to arrange for a cot. All she needed was to gather a few clothes. She’d call Jocelyn and have her pack a bag.

She pulled out her phone, spirits lifting when she saw Dino’s text message: Hope Martha’s okay. Will bring supper tonight.

He really was thoughtful, and it had been unfair to blame him for Slim’s accident. He’d only been doing his job and had promoted Conrad Stables exactly as Martha and Malcolm had wished.

And bought his ranch in the process.

She shoved away that niggling thought, didn’t want to let his bonus bother her. He’d never made a secret about his reasons for winning, and that single-minded determination was one of the reasons she loved him.