The Baby Race (3 page)

Race listened as Claire's words began to slur
and watched as her eyes turned liquid with unshed tears. Anger, at
her father's casual disregard for her and her stepsister's well
being hardened his resolve against marriage and parenthood. He
never wanted to be responsible for another person's happiness or
the cause of their grief. He knew how easily a child's hopes and
dreams could be crushed.

Better to remain alone than risk the pain of
failure. He pushed back his chair and stood.

She hiccupped again and grinned up at
him.

"I think it's time we head back to the
hotel." She didn't object when he took her arm to help her stand.
Instead, she smiled and leaned into him. Her soft slight weight
felt warm and right against his side. An unwanted surge of
protective possessiveness washed through him. Other than for the
abused horses he took in on his ranch, he'd never felt this way
before. Nor did he want to now. The waiter's knowing wink as they
exited the restaurant irritated Race.

On the short walk back to the hotel, Claire
hummed softly and snuggled close to his side, seemingly unaware of
his hostile silence. Back in the room, eyes closed, she flopped
back on the bed still fully clothed. In seconds, her even breathing
told Race she was fast asleep.

Since the marriage wasn't real, to save
money, he'd chosen the least expensive hotel he could find, one
that provided only a double bed and a pull out sofa. He'd intended
for Claire to use the smaller sofa bed. Now, unless he moved her,
it looked like he was stuck sleeping on the couch.

Reluctant to touch her, Race stared down at
the sleeping woman. The reflected glow of flickering neon lights
rippled colorfully over the creamy calf-length dress she wore.
Though hardly a wedding gown, the silky material caressed her sleek
curves like a jealous lover. A lacy shawl covered her bare arms and
hid the shadowy valley between her breasts above the low-scooped
neckline.

Asleep, the innocence of her face reminded
him of a newborn foal. Without thinking he leaned forward to remove
her sandals. His fingers brushed against the tender skin of her
bare ankle. A disturbing tingle rushed up his arm and settled
uncomfortably in his groin. To protect her from the room's air
conditioning chill and himself from the sight of her, he drew up
the coverlet and turned away. It was going to be a long night...and
an even longer year.

*****

Claire groaned and gritted her teeth as the
plane bounced in the Midwest summer storm delaying their landing.
No more champagne for her ever again. When the plane finally taxied
up to the gate, she breathed a sigh of relief. Another couple of
hours and she'd be home.

No, not home. Race's ranch. What was it like?
Though he had described in loving detail each of the animals in
residence, his description of the house, where she and Bobbie Sue
would spend the next year, left a lot to be desired.

The plane jerked to a halt on the rain slick
runway. Squeezing her eyes shut, she choked back her cry of dismay.
As long as there was a bed, the rest didn't matter.

Race's eyes held understanding, but he didn't
say anything as he once again took charge. Too tired and queasy to
object, she waited with the luggage out of the downpour inside the
terminal, while he ran to get his truck.

After throwing the luggage in the back seat,
Race stripped off his wet jacket and helped her climb into the cab.
The heavy door shut with a thwack, sealing her away from the noise
and confusion of O'Hare airport. Silence descended like a blessing.
The damp musty air in the confined space smelled of wet leather and
wool, the pungent aroma of hay and horse, mingled with the scent of
man.

Once inside the truck, Race squeezed the
moisture from his hair and wiped the drops from his face with an
old towel. Claire dropped her gaze from the tantalizing view of his
denim shirt stretching across the muscles of his chest to where the
rain had plastered his well-worn jeans to his hips and thighs.
Despite the cool damp air, heat rushed into her cheeks. She turned
to stare blindly out the window.

She'd spent time in the tropics, where men
wore little more than thongs, but none of them had ever tempted her
to look twice.

Outside, a horn blew and a whistle shrieked.
Race shifted gears and put the truck in motion. Soon they were
cruising away from the city.

"I called home before we left the airport,"
Race broke the silence. "Your things are there already, so there's
no need to go into town before we head out to the ranch."

"What about Bobbie Sue?" They'd left her with
Race's family for the two days they'd been gone. Cindy, Race's
stepmother had been Bobbie Sue's kindergarten teacher, so neither
Claire nor Bobbie Sue had objected to the arrangement. In fact,
Bobbie Sue had been over-the-moon at the idea of actually staying
with her beloved teacher, Mrs. Reed.

"I said your things are at the ranch. You
know Vicki, my teen-aged cousin? I had her take everything out
early this morning."

"Bobbie Sue isn't, as you put it, one of my
things. She's a living, breathing little girl with feelings." She
took a deep breath to calm the rage she felt over Race's casual
dismissal of her stepsister. "In order for this charade of a
marriage to convince the social worker, you'll have to try and
remember that."

"I'll remember." Fingers clenched around the
steering wheel, Race hunched forward and glared out into the rain.
"Just don't let her think that I'm going to be her daddy for real
and forever." His harsh tone worried Claire.

In her haste to gain custody of Bobbie Sue
had she left the little girl open to further heartbreak? Surely,
Race wouldn't be deliberately cruel to the child? From the corner
of her eye, Claire studied the man's stern features. What did she
really know about this man, this stranger?

~~~~~

CHAPTER THREE

Claire climbed out of the truck and looked
around the rain soaked barnyard. Though the gravel path glistened
with puddles and water dripped from every surface, the barn and
corrals were solid and well maintained. A neat white cottage sat
next to the barn, but Race had told her it was the caretaker's
house. The main house sat out of sight further back from the
road.

Race had stopped at the barn so he could
check on a horse. The minute the truck stopped, he'd disappeared.
If Claire had any doubts about his priorities, they were now gone.
With Race, his horses came first.

"Claire!" Bobbie Sue burst out of the barn
into Claire's arms. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too." Claire hugged the little
girl, and then let her go as she wiggled free.

"Are you really married now? Mrs. Reed says
since Race is her stepson and he's my sort of father, she's my sort
of grandma now." The words bubbled out of the little girl faster
than Claire could comprehend or answer. "You've got to see the
horses. They are just so cool." Bobbie Sue grabbed Claire's hand
and tugged her toward the barn.

Apparently, this latest change in Bobbie
Sue's life didn't faze her the way it did the adults.

Doubts and fears melted away in the light
drizzle dampening the air. Bobbie Sue's well being was worth any
sacrifice.

"Let your sister get settled before you drag
her around." Vicki, Race's cousin, stepped out of the barn. Dressed
in faded jeans, a long-sleeved denim shirt and muddy boots, her
blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked closer to Bobbie
Sue's age than her seventeen years. "Hi, Claire." Her tone was
unsure and filled with curiosity.

A lot of people were going to question this
sudden marriage. In small towns, rumors started quickly and were
hard to squash. Irritation surged through her. Having Race abandon
her in the rain the day after their wedding wasn't the way to
convince everyone the marriage was real.

"It's fine. I'd love to see the horses. Race
talks about them non-stop." A minor exaggeration. "I'm not much of
a horse person, but I've ridden camels and once even an ostrich. I
love animals and what's important to Race is important to me."

She stepped into the shelter of the barn and
wiped the rain from her face. Bobbie Sue dashed ahead. Dry and
warm, the sweet smell of hay and horse surrounded Claire. A
yellow-stripped barn cat, its tummy heavy with kittens, wound
around her ankles. Spacious stalls lined each side of the wide
central aisle. Here again everything was clean and neat.

A black equine head poked over one door and
snorted. Claire started to reach out to stroke the horse's velvety
nose, then gasped in horror as the animal turned toward her. A long
jagged cut ran from her left ear to her nostril. Her left eye was
bandaged. From what Claire could see, the animal had other cuts,
scrapes and bruises covering her once sleek hide.

Vicki and Bobbie Sue stepped around her.
Bobbie Sue clambered up on the stall door to pet the animal.

"What happened to her?" Claire asked.

"She's a he."

She whirled around and found herself face to
face with Race. His breath grazed her damp cheek. Warmth from his
body flowed over her chilled flesh, sending a shiver of unwanted
awareness down her spine. Startled, she jerked away. An odd
expression of hurt, quickly masked, flashed in his eyes. Why should
her avoidance cause him distress? Theirs was strictly a marriage of
convenience.

Though Bobbie Sue's attention was focused on
the horse, Vicki's curious gaze forced Claire to regain her
composure.

"His name is Thunder's Night," Race said.
"He's a four year old gelding Thoroughbred. An ex-race horse."

The sight of Race's strong lean fingers
combing through the horse's mane stirred an unfamiliar longing deep
inside Claire.

"The fools who bought him off the track
didn't have the knowledge or the patience to re-train him.
Racehorses only know two speeds, run and stop. To become saddle
horses, they need to be completely re-trained." Frustrated anger
tightened his voice. "When they threw a western saddle on him and
tried to use him as a trail horse, he panicked. He threw his rider,
an inexperienced young girl, and ended up dodging traffic on the
highway."

"Was the girl injured?" Claire couldn't help
asking.

"No." Race's cold look sent a chill through
Claire. "Only Thunder here paid for his owner's stupidity. Then
they left him without veterinary treatment for a month before
someone complained and we got him. We'll be lucky if we can save
his eye."

"Annie says he'll be fine," Bobbie Sue
said.

"Who's Annie?" Claire asked.

"Annie Greentree. Our vet." Race frowned at
her. "You're soaking wet. Why didn't you go on up to the house and
get settled?"

Claire started to sputter an objection, but
Vicki beat her to it.

"Because, Dear Cuz, you dragged her here
first."

"I needed to look in on Willow," Race offered
by way of an apology. He had told her the mare's sad story over
dinner the previous night.

"Willow is fine. Annie was out just this
morning to check on her and the other patients. Warren and I have
everything under control." Vicki turned to Claire. "Warren is
Race's right hand man, caretaker and all around handy person at The
Rescue Race Ranch. He lives in the little house. Like Race, War
isn't all that good with people, but he's the best with anything
that has four legs. Unless he sees you coming first, you'll meet
him eventually."

A smile softened Race's scowl. "I'll
introduce you to everyone tonight at dinner." He headed out of the
barn.

"Can I stay here?" Bobbie Sue asked.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Vicki offered.

Claire nodded and swallowed her irrational
hurt. Of course, horses and cats would command a six-year-old's
rapt attention, more than a well-known older sister.

"Oh, Race," Vicki said. "Aunt Cindy is up at
the house. She insisted on coming over to get things ready for your
homecoming."

Though Claire liked Bobbie Sue's former
teacher, Cindy was now her mother-in-law. The thought of seeing the
woman so soon after her and Race's hasty marriage made Claire
uncomfortable. She wished she had more time to adjust to all the
changes in her life before she had to start pretending to be a
happy newlywed.

Race's hand, warm and comforting on Claire's
elbow, tightened almost painfully at Vicki's parting comment.
Apparently, he felt nervous about the coming encounter too.

Outside, the rain had stopped and the late
afternoon sun peaked through the clouds, bathing the yard in a
watery glow. She filled her lungs with the fresh, moist air.

"Don't expect too much from the house," Race
warned her as they drove up the gravel road.

Before Claire could reassure him, the house
came into view and her heart dropped.

Though solidly built and no doubt sound, the
two-story farmhouse had an air of neglect and abandonment. Its
white clapboards were badly in need of fresh paint. Faded forest
green shutters hung askew around windows dark with years worth of
grime. Weeds grew in abundance through the cobblestone path and
crowded out what remained of the yard and flowerbeds. Old furniture
and appliances cluttered the expansive front porch.

"The inside is better."

"It couldn't be much worse," Claire
muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Race looked doubtful, but continued, "I
haven't had the time to work on the outside yet."

"The stuff on the porch has to be cleared
away before Bobbie Sue decides to investigate. Too many sharp rusty
edges."

"No problem. I'll get to it first thing
tomorrow."

He sounded so relieved to have something
concrete to do Claire couldn't contain her smile. The house would
do. First impressions were often deceiving. Compared to some of the
places she'd lived, this house was a mansion. With a bit of work
and some TLC, the house would reclaim its formal glory. Her smile
widened.