Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash (21 page)

She scrambled from the chair, crossed the room and removed the cup from his hand. “Since you’ve so masterfully handled our first staff dissension, I’d like to bring you another cup. A…fresher one.”

He raised an amused eyebrow. “And perhaps one that’s a little less bitter?”

“Absolutely,” she said.

***

“Any candidates for a new manager?” Edward asked, from his office in New York. “When are we free of this Wally Turner?”

“Still trying to force him to quit.” Burke adjusted the phone against his ear. “Can’t prove his theft and politically it wouldn’t be wise to fire him. Stillwater is a tight town.”

Edward gave an impatient sigh. “Someone must know something. We’re not there to coddle.”

“I’m working with someone now. She’s starting to trust me, but they’re all inconveniently loyal.”

“You talk to Theresa yet?”

“Yes, I did. Not that it’s any of your business.” Burke jotted a reminder on his yellow pad. Theresa hadn’t been happy but he’d send her a necklace, a tastefully expensive one, along with his very best wishes. Women were always soothed if they walked away with a blue Tiffany box. Perhaps he’d order one for Jenna as well. Two necklaces, he scribbled.

He swiveled his chair, watching Wally through the window. The man grinned and gestured again, pointing out the new flowers and cobblestones to Jenna. Wally always seemed more animated when she was around.

Interesting.

“I might have found Wally’s little weakness,” Burke said into the phone.

“Good. Because the quicker you find a manager,” Edward said, “the quicker you can leave that hick town.”

“I’m not in that big of a hurry,” Burke said, and cut the connection.

He turned in his chair, watching as Wally and Jenna re-entered the building. Waited one minute then called Frances. “Please tell Wally to come see me,” he said. It was always good to send for employees; it made them feel vulnerable, and vulnerable people made mistakes.

Wally walked in ten minutes later.

“Good work over the weekend,” Burke said. “The courtyard looks nice. Just in time for our visitors today.”

Wally looked blank. If Jenna had told him about the Ridgeman visit, he hid it well.

“Have a seat, Wally.”

Wally pushed the chair further from the desk and sat.

“As you know, we’re changing our target market,” Burke said, “and our strategy. Better employees, better horses, higher fees. No more locals dropping by the back door. Some of our employees have been lax about that.”

Wally held his gaze for a long moment, eyes impassive, but a muscle twitched on the side of the man’s jaw.

“I’m thinking of Leo Winfield’s girl,” Burke continued, watching Wally’s face. “Thinking of moving her to head masseuse.”

“Oh, God!” Wally jerked forward, his composure gone. “You can’t do it. A move like that would kill Jenna.”

Bingo
. Burke leaned back in his chair, careful to keep his expression impassive.

“I mean you can do it, but it wouldn’t be good for employee morale.” Wally’s words came out in a rush. “Kathryn Winfield is jealous of any pretty girl but especially bitter toward Jenna. Carried a grudge since eighth grade when Jenna won the science fair, the 4-H leadership award and was voted May Queen all on the same day. And it’s only worsened with time.”

“Oh?” Burke raised an eyebrow. “Jenna has a nimble brain and is definitely spunky, but everyone seems to look up to her. She’s very likeable.”

“You bet. She has a huge heart. But Kathryn won’t accept being second best. And really, who would want Kathryn if they could have Jenna?”

Burke’s lip twitched. Wally was actually very astute, full of information too, but the man was backing into a yawning crevasse. “So is there a specific problem between the two girls now?” Burke asked as he scrawled a memo on his legal pad.

“The new vet. He moved here hoping to get closer to Jenna, but she doesn’t want anything permanent. Now he occasionally dates Kathryn but it drives her crazy, always having to settle for Jenna’s leftovers.”

Wally shifted, lowering his voice and edging his chair closer to the desk. “Look, if you hire Kathryn, Jenna will be gone in a few months. And then she’d be in a real pickle. She’s sacrificed everything for her younger sister. Three Brooks owes her more than that.”

“Indeed,” Burke said dryly. “I like to think employees owe the company rather than the other way around. But if you’re adamant, we can certainly reach an agreement.”

He ripped his newly composed memo off the pad and slid the paper across the desk. “Sign and date this, Wally, and I’ll ensure Kathryn Winfield never bothers Jenna again.”

Please accept this letter of resignation effective immediately. I agree to vacate the Three Brooks Apartment by the end of the month and hereby waive any right to legal counsel as well as any past and future claims against Three Brooks Inc. Wally Turner

Wally’s throat moved convulsively.

“Of course, these details are confidential,” Burke added, averting his gaze, “and if I hear you’ve engaged in any behavior derogatory to Three Brooks, Jenna’s employment here would certainly turn fragile.”

“You sonofabitch!”

Burke faked a dismissive shrug and pulled the paper back. “Not a big deal to me if Jenna stays or goes. I’m sure there are other jobs around. Maybe that vet would hire her.”

“She wouldn’t accept a job from him! Independence means more to her than anyone I know. That’s why—”

Wally dropped his face in his hands, and for a moment Burke experienced a rare spike of pity. However, the man was a thief and a liar, something he never tolerated.

Wally raised his head, eyes defeated as he stared at Burke. A moment later, he yanked back the paper and signed his name in a ragged scrawl. “You can stick this job up your ass,” he said, rising so fast the chair toppled. He jerked from the office, the back of his neck a mottled red.

Burke picked up the signed memo, studying it with grim satisfaction. He planned to get rid of Kathryn Winfield anyway but this had turned out to be a bonus, a goddamn wonderful, unexpected bonus.

Chapter Eighteen

“And this is our hyperbaric oxygen therapy.” Jenna gestured at the airtight chamber. “It gives a hundred percent oxygen in a pressurized environment and provides the horse with an amazing boost.

“Oxygen is excellent for healing open wounds and for treating stubborn infections,” she went on. “It also helps heal lung tissue. A few treatments of about fifty minutes will show immediate benefits.”

David Ridgeman stepped closer, finally registering some interest as he studied the interior and exterior of the chamber. He turned to the large blinking console. “Is that thing complicated to work?’ he asked.

“Somewhat.” Jenna smiled at Debbie alert in the control chair. “But our experienced technicians are well trained in the procedure. The green button starts the oxygen flow. The horse is free to move in the chamber, and the door can only be opened from the outside. Monitors allow us to watch the patient and they can also see out the window. We’ve even had a horse so relaxed, he lay down—”

“Where are the tanks?” David interrupted, staring up at the ceiling valves. “Okay, I see,” he muttered, taking out his phone and snapping some pictures. “Then the oxygen tanks are on this side. I assume you have holding stalls in the area?”

“Yes, of course,” Jenna said. “The main barn area is down the aisle and through the door to the left. We also have three stalls adjoining the oxygen chamber. They’re especially helpful if an animal has severe mobility or breathing issues.”

“Show me the stalls please.”

“Certainly.” Jenna nodded her thanks to Debbie, glancing over her shoulder at Burke and Lorna Ridgeman who lingered on the other side of the room. Lorna was clearly disinterested in the Center’s holistic features, and it seemed that the decision to send their stud to Three Brooks would be entirely up to her brother.

Lorna reached up with a manicured hand and tapped Burke’s upper arm. His dark head politely inclined as he listened to another of her mundane comments. Jenna let the door swing shut behind her. Obviously David was the decision maker, and if he wanted to see the holding stalls, they could be included in the tour.

“The stalls are over here,” Jenna gestured, “just on the other side of the oxygen chamber.”

“Nice big stalls,” David said, stopping beside her and nodding approvingly. “Perfect for a stud.”

“There are no windows though,” Jenna said, “and we use them only as holding stalls.”
Or for little ponies making a midnight trek
.

“But Nifty gets upset and kicks the walls if other horses are too close.” David crossed his arms, his voice hardening. “For safety purposes, I’d like him stabled here. Would that be a problem?”

“Certainly not,” Jenna said quickly. “We’ll put in a mineral lick and have it ready for him. When will he ship in?”

“As soon as possible.” David gave a satisfied nod. “I’m very impressed with the facility and what you offer. I’d like some more material with complete specs though. But first, let’s find the other two and we can make arrangements to meet for dinner.”

Jenna’s shoulders relaxed. David had been hard to read, very controlled, sometimes abrupt, and at one point she’d even thought his interest was feigned. “We also have a one-mile dirt track and a seven-eighth artificial surface,” she said, “so horses can be kept in training. It’s an option that mainly appeals to our long-term clients.”

“Yes, Derek mentioned that on the phone. Nifty is used to controlled exercise so a few laps every morning would do him good. He can be ridden out or ponied.”

“Okay.” Jenna gestured at the door. “We can go out the back door and check the oval. Meet with some of the riders and Wally Turner, our in-house expert. He’ll establish an exercise schedule in conjunction with our treatment.”

She paused, not certain where Wally was. Hadn’t seen him since his enthusiastic display of the landscape additions earlier in the day.

David glanced at his watch. “The track isn’t important. I’d prefer to go back to the hotel and meet you later for dinner.”

Jenna let the inner door swing shut, hiding her surprise. Owners and trainers were usually anal about footing. In her experience, they always wanted to inspect the track and give detailed instructions to the rider.

Burke and Lorna stepped out of the oxygen room. Burke nodded at something Lorna said, but his mouth was taut with tension. From the moment the Ridgemans had arrived, it had been clear David was in charge. However, Lorna had latched onto Burke with single-minded zeal, and it had been up to Jenna to close the deal. For a man who needed to be in control, it must have been frustrating to be relegated to the clinging sister.

Jenna shot Burke a reassuring smile, and his mouth immediately relaxed.

“Would you like to meet some of our exercise riders, David?” Burke asked, easing away from Lorna. “Two of them graduated from the California Jockey School.”

David shrugged. “Not necessary. Jenna has answered all my questions beautifully. As long as our horse can have this stall right here—which she assures will be no problem—we’ll ship our stud this week.”

“Very good,” Burke said, his face impassive. “There are some forms we can review in my office.”

“Which we can do just as easily over dinner,” David said, clearly eager to leave. “We hope you and Jenna will join us later. Perhaps you can suggest a suitable restaurant?”

“We can go to the Hunt Club,” Burke said. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Perfect,” David said. “Let’s go, Lorna.”

The door closed behind them and Burke turned to Jenna, his face creased in a grateful smile. “Great job, Jenna. We did it. Thank you.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t really do anything. He wasn’t interested in many of the applications, only the oxygen chamber. Rather strange.”

“Doesn’t matter. We got the business. Thanks for stepping up.” His smile deepened. “Let’s celebrate. Ask Frances to order in a bunch of doughnuts or cake for the staff. Whatever you think. This is the first time the Center has been entrusted with a Derby winner. I’ll grab your tea.”

She nodded, flushed from his compliments. Sometimes he was so thoughtful. Everyone would be delighted to enjoy a rare treat, and her boss was even serving the tea. A simple gesture but it meant a lot. And he’d intended it to mean a lot.

She floated to the reception desk and shared the news.

“Mr. Burke wants to celebrate? Awesome!” Frances pumped her fist. “I think cinnamon buns would be best. Those big ones with extra icing. And maybe a fruit plate for the riders. But first I need to thank you, Jenna.”

Gratitude colored Frances’s face. “Mr. Burke is giving me a ten-percent raise. Said you praised my typing skills. And all raises are retroactive to April. He’s a great manager. I mean Wally was good but Mr. Burke is better.”

Jenna shuffled her feet, slightly uneasy. Burke had tightened his grip on employee loyalty and was clearly a master tactician. He’d even swayed the kids in the three-legged race, and children were always a tough sell.

“Kathryn Winfield sure didn’t look very happy.” Frances snickered, oblivious to Jenna’s discomfort. “She decided she’d rather work somewhere else, thank God. Mr. Burke walked her out the door himself.”

“That’s strange. I thought she was going to try the job for a while.” Jenna leaned over the counter, frowning. In the office, Kathryn had signed all the papers as though she intended to stay, at least for a while. Burke must have come down on her later, even harder.

At least he was focusing that unrelenting will on other people and not on her. She shivered, abruptly eager for a fortifying cup of tea. “I’ll see you later, Frances.” She turned and walked down the hall to Burke’s office.

“Come in,” he called at her light knock. He pushed his drawer shut and rounded the desk, pulling out a chair at the conference table. Carefully slid over her cup of tea and sat down in the chair beside her.

“Careful,” he said. “It’s hot. I think we need to turn the temperature down on that machine.” His gaze narrowed on her bandage. “Did you make a doctor’s appointment?”