Racing Toward Love (Horses Heal Hearts Book 2)

by Kimberly Beckett

  Finally, the truck turned onto a gravel road with a sign arching across it that read ‘Whiskey Ridge Farm.’ At the end of the road was a large, white, two-story plantation-style home, complete with pillars and overstuffed chairs arranged invitingly on the front porch. The mansion was surrounded by acres and acres of rolling hills.

  Several yards away from the house, there were two large stable buildings also painted white with burgundy and hunter green accents—the racing colors of Whiskey Ridge Farm. The truck pulled up to the nearer of the two buildings, and two grooms approached. After a brief conversation with the Gibsons, the grooms went around to the back of the trailer, took down the ramp, and unloaded Biscuit. When all four feet were again on solid ground, the stallion scanned the grounds and then neighed loudly. The answering neighs from many other horses on the facility echoed back to him, and he snorted loudly, seeming satisfied with the response.

  By this time, Megan, Stephen, and Daniel had arrived and walked over to see how Biscuit had survived the trip. When Biscuit saw them, he visibly relaxed and allowed the grooms to lead him to an assigned stall.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Walter said. “We were worried about how Biscuit would adapt to the new surroundings. He seems to feel right at home.”

  Sarah smoothly assumed the role of hostess and addressed the group. “Speaking of feeling at home, follow me, and I’ll show you to your rooms. After that, I’ll show you where you can find the bathrooms and linens. Please feel free to wash up, and I’ll work with our cook to get dinner on the table for all of us in two hours.” The group followed Sarah as she pointed out which of the several bedrooms in the house each would be using. Ian was chagrined to see that his room would be right across the hall from Megan’s. There would be no way she wouldn’t know if he had a nightmare. What was he going to do if she offered to comfort him in the aftermath? The last thing he wanted was for her to continually see him helpless and weak.

  ~ ~ ~

  Megan was thrilled with the sleeping arrangements. With Ian’s room right across from hers, she would be able to hear when he left the room during the night and when he had his nightmares. Maybe if she could safely arouse him from the grip of one of his nightmares, it might show him they could be together safely—that he wouldn’t be a danger to her after all.

  After she had showered and changed for dinner, she left her room and made her way down to the main floor of the house. She heard voices coming from one of the rooms to the right of the stairwell and followed them until she found what had to be the formal dining room. She gaped at the huge crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room and the beautiful cherry wood dining table that could easily seat thirty people.

  She had no idea her mother had come from such wealth. No wonder the Gibsons had objected to their daughter marrying a poor, apprentice trainer. Certainly, they had higher aspirations for their daughter’s future. Nevertheless, Megan was certain that if the Gibsons had seen how happy Anne had been with Daniel, they would have forgiven them and welcomed them back into the family. Now, it seemed, they regretted their complete rejection of Anne, her husband, and their children. That must be why they were helping Daniel and his family—as a way of making up for their actions so many years ago.

  At her entrance, the room quieted, and everyone turned to look at her.

  “Megan, dear,” Sarah said. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Her grandmother indicated a tall, handsome young man who looked to be close to Megan’s age. “This is Justin Saint Claire, the son of our next-door neighbors, Donald and Connie Saint Claire. Their farm is called Futurity Acres. I took the liberty of inviting him for dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No grandmother, I don’t mind at all.” Megan felt, rather than saw Ian’s gaze focusing on her as Justin moved to pull out a chair at the table for her. After she was seated, Justin took the empty chair next to hers. She smiled at him and attempted to make conversation, all under Ian’s unerringly intense gaze.

  Ian would have been surprised to learn she was just as chagrined as he was that her grandmother was trying to fix her up with the boy next door. Justin was indeed handsome, tall, and very charming, but after all she had experienced with Ian, no man was going to compare favorably with him. There was no spark with Justin, no magnetic attraction like she had with Ian. But did Ian care for her? Had he truly given up any hope they could be together?

  Megan took heart noticing that when she engaged Justin in conversation, and especially if she found what Justin had said amusing and laughed out loud, Ian was visibly irritated. He even went so far as to clear his throat loudly and glare at Justin. It was as if he was protecting his territory, Megan thought smugly. As much as Ian protested that she wasn’t his, he definitely wasn’t indifferent to her, and she took a great deal of hope from that.

  Chapter 18

  After a week in residence at Whiskey Ridge Stables, the Bradys had settled into a regular routine that centered around preparing Biscuit for the grueling St Leger Stakes, the longest of the three triple crown races at nearly one and three-quarter miles. Daniel and Stephen had not only been working Biscuit on the grass track, but on two days of every week, Stephen took Biscuit out to run the rolling hills of Whiskey Ridge Stables’ sprawling acres to build his endurance. The St Leger was the race that foiled many horses’ chances for winning the triple crown due to its unusual length. Many horses simply didn’t have the stamina to go the distance.

  Ian had, in the meantime, established a pattern of his own. He had introduced himself to the grooms and stable hands, and, after running five miles first thing every morning, he spent the rest of his mornings helping them turn horses out and mucking out stalls. Occasionally he would get a glimpse of Megan as she helped her grandmother around the house or accompanied Daniel and Stephen to the practice track to watch Biscuit train.

  Ian’s daily five-mile runs in the cool, early morning mist worked wonders to clear his head and invigorate him before spending the rest of the day working in the stables and avoiding too much interaction with Megan. It hurt too much to spend time close to her without being able to touch her silky hair or soft, flawless skin, and claim her as his own. Instead, he would help the Whiskey Ridge farm workers with their daily chores, much as he had for his brother, Michael, at Stafford Oaks Farm. The work with the horses calmed him, and allowed him to feel useful even as he used the time to familiarize himself with the property to better safeguard his charges.

  He also had twice weekly appointments for his PTSD therapy. On this particular day, he was grateful the traffic was light as he drove back to Whiskey Ridge. He had a lot to think about after today’s therapy appointment with the Lexington counselor. As he watched the verdant, rolling hills that surrounded the highway speed by, he reflected on today’s session. He had to admit he was impressed by the therapist, Dr. Eloisa Glenn, a matronly-looking woman in her 60’s if he had a guess, who was in reality tough as nails.

  He discovered very quickly that she was going to be tougher on him than his therapist in the U.K. She wouldn’t let him get away with evasions or distractions, and he was very good at playing that game—especially when their conversation veered into emotional spaces he was uncomfortable sharing with anyone, especially a stranger. Dr. Glenn had his file, however, so she knew quite a bit about him already.

  He recalled one particularly difficult discussion. The topic was his frequent nightmares, and particularly the night he attacked Megan.

  “Dr. Glenn, it appears my nightmares are more vivid when I’ve been through a dangerous situation, especially one where someone I care about is threatened.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me, Ian. Can you describe the situation?”

  Ian explained in detail what had happened the day of the kidnapping attempt in Brighton and what had happened that night. “Doctor, is there anything I can do to prevent this kind of thing from happ
ening? Will I ever be able to sleep with a woman without endangering her life?”

  Dr. Glenn showed concern, but her reaction gave him hope. “Maybe we can find a trigger, or some word or touch that can bring you out without endangering her life. It is possible, Ian. It’s also possible that with further therapy, you can overcome the trauma enough to have uninterrupted sleep, and the nightmares will be a thing of the past.”

  She also noted it was very likely that had Megan not touched him during the nightmare, he would not have reacted to attack her as he had. Ian had to admit the doctor was probably right. Still, he hesitated to get too optimistic about that difficult admission. Even if Megan hadn’t touched him, his nightmare would have still awakened her, and she would have lost much-needed sleep coping with his distress. This weakness embarrassed him and made him feel helpless—a feeling he detested in himself. Megan deserved a whole man, not an empty shell of one.

  Dr. Glenn was also a believer in Cognitive Processing Therapy, which had Ian cringing. Ian recalled his argument with the therapist in the U.K. about the treatment, but Dr. Glenn convinced him to at least give it a try. He understood the ultimate goal of the therapy was to change Ian’s perception of his responsibility for what had happened to Neil.

  Ian knew right away this would be difficult for him. The fact that as Neil’s superior officer, he was ultimately responsible for keeping him and the rest of his unit alive and well, prevented him from absolving himself of complete responsibility for what ultimately happened to him. There was no way he could wash his hands of the circumstances surrounding Neil’s death. He was responsible.

  There were also those infuriating days when he would see Justin’s car drive up, and the bastard would either take Megan out somewhere, or he would stay and sit with her on the sunny, comfortable porch, chatting and laughing. It took everything Ian had to resist walking up to the man and telling him where he could take himself.

  He always stopped himself by remembering he didn’t have the right to control who Megan chose to see romantically. He had given up that right. Maybe Justin was the right man for her, but something told him there was more to Justin than met the eye. He didn’t have anything concrete to base his suspicions, so he held his tongue.

  The regular routine had done wonders for his ability to sleep, but he still had nightmares. Because of the close proximity of his room to Megan’s, on nights he did have nightmares, he would wake Megan, and she would try to find a way to give him comfort. What Megan didn’t understand was that every time he awakened to see her with pity in her eyes, he suffered that much more.

  One night, after a particularly harrowing nightmare, he woke up to find Megan sitting at the foot of his bed. He couldn’t bear seeing the pity in her eyes yet again. His frustration and anger at himself and at their situation overcame his self-control.

  “Why are you here? Can’t you see there isn’t anything you can do for me?”

  Megan moved closer to Ian and reached out to him, but he avoided her touch. “I want you to know you’re not alone, Ian,” she said. “I’m here for you if you need me. I’ll always be here if you let me.”

  Ian uttered a harsh, humorless laugh, “That’s just the thing. You can’t help me. No one can help me. I’m broken and can’t be fixed. Every time I wake up and see you looking at me with pity in your eyes, I suffer all over again. Please just leave me alone. I beg you.”

  Megan’s eyes brimmed with tears. She tried to blink them back, but they resisted her efforts and flowed down her cheeks. Even in the wake of Ian’s outburst, however, she straightened her shoulders and stood tall by his bedside. “All right. I’ll leave for now, but I’m not going away.” She turned to him before she walked out his bedroom door. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  Immediately after she left, Ian wanted desperately to call her back and apologize for his outburst. He’d lashed out in anger and made her feel unwelcome and unneeded. She was neither of those things. Ultimately, he decided to let her go. It was for the best that she believe he didn’t want her or need her.

  From that night forward, Megan honored his request and stopped coming to him.

  It didn’t take long for Ian to miss her calming presence and regret banishing her from his room. Without Megan’s soothing presence after a nightmare, he would walk the stables, check on Biscuit and the other Whiskey Ridge horses, and allow the tranquility of the sleeping horses to calm him. He could then return to the house and get more sleep.

  Tonight, as he stood alone in the center aisle of the barn amid the peace of the sleeping horses, the loneliness he had been ignoring since sending Megan away emerged from its hiding place. He came very close to going to Megan’s room and begging to be held in her arms, so he could let go and forget the reason for his distress. Is that what you really want? To be another Stephen for her to mother? The answer came back immediately. Hell, no. He didn’t need another mother. He needed to find his own path to recovery, not rely on Megan to find it for him.

  Chapter 19

  Ian was returning from today’s appointment with Dr. Glenn. Today’s session had been productive, and Ian was feeling more confident about his ability to manage his PTSD symptoms. Maybe he was on his way back to being the man he used to be. He grimaced as he pulled into the driveway of the farm and saw Justin Saint Claire’s car parked near the main house. He’d love nothing better than to throw the bloke out on his arse, but the Gibsons had probably invited him, so the man was a guest in his hosts’ home. There was nothing he could do but grin and bear the bastard’s presence and hope Megan wasn’t impressed with the man’s superficial good looks and easy charm.

  As Ian drove up to the house, Megan emerged with Justin close behind her. Ian noted that she didn’t look particularly pleased to be with Justin. When she spotted Ian, however, she smiled brightly, and left Justin to meet Ian as he emerged from the car.

  “How was your appointment?”

  “It was fine,” Ian said, unwilling to go into any detail while Justin was standing nearby.

  Megan looked confused at Ian’s abrupt answer, then followed his gaze to Justin standing nearby. “I understand,” she said in a voice that only Ian could hear. “Please tell me all about it later. I care, and I want to help if I can.”

  Ian nodded to her and then winked. Megan winked back, and they both grinned mischievously.

  Justin frowned. “Megan and I were just leaving to have dinner and then go to a night club in downtown Lexington.”

  “I’d love it if you could come too, Ian,” Megan said.

  Ian looked at Justin, who looked visibly irritated that Megan was inviting another man on what he considered to be their date. Ian knew he should refuse, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “For you, Megan, I’d love to. Can you give me a few minutes to change? I don’t think jeans are appropriate for a night on the town.”

  “Of course we’ll wait.” Megan looked at Justin expectantly. “We don’t mind, do we, Justin?”

  Justin gritted his teeth, and tried to smile at Megan, “Not at all, Megan. Let’s go back inside while we wait. I had a message from my mother I forgot to give to your grandmother.”

  “I won’t be long,” Ian assured them, smiling to himself as he sped up the stairs to his room and the connected bath. He was delighted he could put a wrench in Justin’s plans to spend some private time with Megan. Ian might not be right for her, but he sensed that Justin wasn’t right for her either. If he could help it, he wasn’t going to leave Megan alone with the man.

  After a quick shower, Ian dressed in a close-fitting black polo shirt and freshly pressed, pleated khaki pants. His hair was slightly damp from the shower, but it was neatly combed, and his face was freshly shaved. He took a brief look in the bathroom mirror and smiled in approval. He descended to the living area, finding Megan and Justin chatting with Megan
’s father, Daniel. Daniel looked up at Ian’s approach and reached out to shake his hand and then wished the group a good night.

  Justin and Megan had initially planned to go to a high-end night club. Megan assumed Justin wanted to use the opportunity to have an intimate dinner and dance with her. Now that Ian was joining them, Megan suggested they go to a night club that offered more informal food and a pop/rock band for dancing.

  Megan was playing on Justin’s ego, since he had been bragging to her earlier that he was a good dancer. Justin fell into her plans perfectly. In fact, he knew of a good place. “Ian, since you’re probably not as familiar with genuine American food, I thought we should spend the evening at a club called Papa Joey’s. They serve great burgers and usually have a live band for dancing.”

  “Sounds great, Justin. I’m looking forward to one of your genuine American hamburgers I’ve heard so much about. I’m not so sure about the dancing part. I don’t have a lot of practice.”

  Justin smiled. “Let’s do that, then.”

  As they approached Papa Joey’s, the sound of the live band playing an old-fashioned rock and roll ballad filtered out of the open door. “Love the music, Justin,” Megan said, “Let’s find a table and order. I’m starved.”

  They located a table close to the dance floor, and all of them ordered the club’s signature burger. The waitress who served them couldn’t keep her eyes off Ian. Megan quelled the urge to slap the girl when, as she served their drinks, she bent over close to Ian to give him a good look at her breasts which were nearly bursting out from under the low cut and very tight T-shirt she was wearing. Ian couldn’t help but notice the attention, but he looked amused, not interested. Megan was still annoyed at the waitress’s behavior but surprisingly comforted by his disinterested reaction.