Seville was puzzled. “Haven’t we already been through the logic of this? I thought so. Stop stalling and get in the trailer.”
Trying to prolong her own life a few extra seconds, Sarah turned to the ramp and pretended to stumble, falling to her knees in the thick mud of the parking area. So much for her white britches and clean boots.
Seville made a sound of disgust and pulled her roughly to her feet by her bad arm and she groaned in pain. “Go on, get in!” He shoved her at the trailer ramp and she stumbled again, this time for real as her long spurs snagged each other.
Seville backhanded her across the face, his motions becoming jerkier as his control slipped and he tasted blood. He usually stayed away from the messier side of business, preferring to have his employees deal with it. However he was beginning to enjoy the feeling of power the weapon was giving him. It felt a bit like the rush he experienced when closing a big business deal. Too bad that secretary wasn’t available—he was starting to get hard.
Sarah stayed kneeling in the mud, head bowed submissively as she began to believe that help wouldn’t arrive in time, that Gordon might finish the job after all. She would never make a life with Dante; she’d never giggle with Ellie over her first boyfriend. She’d miss listening to Bob and Tilda fight; she’d never ride the pinto filly, and she hated the thought that she’d ridden her last victory gallop.
Do you think they have jumpers in heaven?
“Get up! Go on, I’ll shoot! Get in the trailer, I have something for you to do before… well, before.”
He backhanded her across the face again, enjoying the feel of flesh on flesh. Blood trickled down her face from a gash inflicted by his heavy pinky ring as she glared at him.
“I said get in the trailer!” His voice had risen and Sarah could see the bulge appearing at his crotch. She had a very good idea what was coming next and the idea made her gag. Gordon’s eyes glinted madly and he raised his hand to hit her again as she knelt before him in the mud.
Sarah heard a frantic clatter of hooves and looked up. Maybe another rider had come back to the trailers and would chase Gordon away. When she saw her own dark-haired warrior atop an enormous white-gray horse she knew she had to be dreaming. Or else she was already dead.
Almost Noble rose on his hind legs with a battle cry and Dante fought to keep his seat until the horse returned to the earth.
“Don’t touch her you bastard!” Dante flung himself from Noble’s broad back as The Doctor scrambled to pull Sarah in front of his body as a shield. She kicked him in the shin with a spur and he howled and let go.
Seville jerked around to run but was halted by Dante’s fist hurtling toward his protruding nose with the momentum of a freight train. Bone crunched and blood spurted from that generous organ and Gordon’s finger tightened convulsively on the trigger. The gun fired wildly into the mud next to Sarah’s left knee and Noble spooked at the noise, bolting back the way he’d come.
Sarah dove beneath the trailer loading ramp, hoping the rubber-covered aluminum would be sufficient protection against flying bullets. The squishy mud oozed between her fingers and she tried to peek around and see what was happening.
Dante had Seville up against a neighboring trailer and was punching him repeatedly in the face, shouting obscenities until he was hoarse. Blood was pouring from The Doctor’s nose and lip, and his face was turning blue with lack of oxygen as Dante tightened his hold on the scientist’s collar another notch.
Daniel and the bodyguard she thought was Cesare pounded up then, gasping for breath. Daniel pulled his friend off Seville, who slumped to the ground gracefully and fell headfirst into a big puddle.
“Leave it, Dante. He isn’t worth it. The boys will be here soon to pick this filth up.” Daniel let go of Dante, then winced when the shorter man’s boot buried itself in Seville’s unprotected gut. “Okay. It’s over. Come on buddy. Sarah needs you.”
They both turned to look as Sarah wiggled out from underneath the trailer, butt-first. She was covered in mud and her once proud show clothes were a total disaster. Her turquoise eyes were wide as they sought Dante’s icy blue ones. Apparently relieved by what she saw there she said, “You’re not hurt?”
“Now Sugar, don’t you have more faith in me than that? That Seville was a cheesecake. With a gun.” Her eyes filled and she rushed into his arms. He enfolded her grubby form and bumped his nose on her helmet as he cuddled her close. “It’s okay Sarah. It’s over, Seville’s all done. It’s over.” He rocked her gently, reassured by the feel of her pressed near. He never again wanted to feel that rush of rage and hot fear he had experienced when her distorted voice had cracked from the radio like whiplash, calling him for help.
His lunch had been trampled into the dirt when he and the others had sprinted to the stable block. Philippe had just finished tacking Sarah’s horse for their second round and Dante hadn’t thought twice before flinging himself aboard and kicking the startled animal toward the trailer lot.
“It’s over,” Dante repeated again, needing to convince himself as much as Sarah.
There was a clatter of hooves on tarmac and Tilda came running up dragging a bewildered Almost Noble behind her. “What happened? I couldn’t understand what Philippe was saying. Why was Noble running loose? Why did Sarah miss the course walk?” She got a good look at her niece’s ruined britches and the puffy swelling and bleeding scratch under her eye. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Seville,” Dante answered. “But it’s all over now. Daniel’s boys have him and he won’t be seeing the sun for a while.” He gave Sarah’s aunt a thumbnail sketch of the goings on, leaving Tilda visibly shaken.
“My radio wasn’t charged! I didn’t hear. I was down by the ring for the jump off walk. I was looking all over for you, but I never guessed…”
“The course walk! I missed it!” Sarah strode to Noble, swiping at her muddy britches and readjusting her hunt cap. “How far out am I? Did you get to watch anyone do the jump off? How does the turn between three and four ride? Has anyone gone through the branches or have they all gone around?”
Everyone stared at her, dumbfounded.
“What?”
“You’re not thinking of riding now, are you?” Even Tilda couldn’t conceive of jumping off after being threatened with a gun at point blank range.
“Why not? It’s over and I’ve already given Gordon way too much of my time. Give me a leg up, will ya?”
To her surprise, it was Dante that stepped forward to boost her into the saddle, leaving a hand on her thigh as she settled into place. She looked down, expecting him to heckle her about riding.
“Fly like the wind, Sugar.” She gave him a special smile and brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead before wheeling Noble around and touching him to a jog. Tilda ran to catch up, listing the strides and turns as the loudspeaker announced that exhibitor two-oh-four had sixty seconds to be in the ring or forfeit her second round.
“Heads UP!” The gate crew dove for cover when a white blur galloped into the ring just as the disqualifying tone sounded. Dante ran up in time to see her clear the first jump.
The timer was running, seconds slipping by. As Noble floated over the big gate jump, Sarah worried that he hadn’t had a warm up, that his muscles had stiffened in his stall and he’d get a nasty pull. When he landed fine and galloped away, she stopped thinking at all and just rode.
They did four strides to fence two, one less than they’d done in the first round. She had no idea what the first five riders had done for time or faults so she just went as fast and as high as she knew how, hoping it would be enough.
As her head touched the clouds over fence three she felt a building euphoria. Gordon was gone. She’d survived. Dante had saved her. He loved her. Ellie could come home and the three of them could start to build a life. She could have his child, a desire she had only voiced in her deepest heart of hearts.
She felt invincible.
The turn from three to four went ar
ound a weeping cherry with low hanging branches where the jump crew sat drinking beer out of soda cans. Seeing a gap, Sarah made a split-second decision and turned in front of the tree, lying close to Noble’s neck as branches slashed around them.
Horse and rider burst free of the tree a scant half-stride from jump four, a wide Swedish oxer with purple and green rails. Sarah sat up an instant too late and Noble bobbled on takeoff, making a shallow, awkward jump.
“Hah!” Sarah yelled, jerking her body up his neck and Noble responded by levitating over the jump, twisting himself inside out to keep all his feet in the air a few moments more.
He landed slow and floundered an instant before slamming back into a full gallop and bearing down on the railroad combination. He was running so fast and strong that he left a stride out of the in-and-out, leaping back into the air for the second jump before his back feet had landed from the first. Sarah hung on for dear life as they slithered up and over the bank jump and her back teeth rattled when Noble jumped huge, making up precious seconds as he defied gravity time and again, flinging his old gray body into the sky.
They roared over the last jump and skidded through the timers, only then becoming aware of the screaming fans.
“And we have a new class leader, completing the jump off clean with a time of twenty-nine seconds flat, over three seconds faster than the next closest time. Let’s have a big round of applause for Sarah Taylor and Almost Noble, folks!”
The stands erupted as horse and rider cantered around, bleeding speed. Sarah wrapped her arms around Noble’s sweaty neck and thanked him for the thousandth time for teaching her to fly.
Chapter Sixteen
In the days and weeks that followed Gordon Seville’s arrest and Sarah’s victory in the Grand Prix, things began to settle back to normal. At least as normal as any given week at Pruitt Farm—there was that little incident with Ellie and her pony and three different shades of food coloring, but at least the effects of that weren’t permanent. Sarah shook her head as she remembered the startling blue socks Ellie had painted on poor Finn and hoped the bleaching soap would work.
“Sarah!” She didn’t immediately recognize the voice, but turned and squinted into the September sun at the figure in the doorway.
“Matt? Matt! Hello, I’m so glad to see you!”
Matthew shifted uncomfortably. “Are you? You probably shouldn’t be, I almost got you killed several times. Unintentionally, of course, but that’s still rather careless behavior for a friend, don’t you think?”
Sarah shrugged. “It’s all done now. You didn’t know what Seville was doing, at least not all of it. And you called Dante when it really counted didn’t you? I’m grateful for that.”
“I didn’t know they killed Jay. I want you to know that. I would never have stayed there if I’d known that. I knew we were working on his old Huntington’s project, but I never knew they killed him.”
“I know. You’re a good man, and I’m happy for you that you’re going to be running the lab once it’s reopened in the spring, and that you’ll get to work with Jay’s old protocols in a more proper trial setting.”
Matt nodded. “Yeah, luckily they’re letting me turn states’ evidence against The Doctor in exchange for probation, and the hospital’s so embarrassed they asked me to stay on.” He reached out and pushed a strand of her red-gold hair away from her face with one finger. “That’s partially why I’m here.”
Sarah stepped back, unconsciously protecting her space and answering one question for him without it being asked. “Why’s that? I thought you were just here to visit.”
“Yeah, and I wanted to offer you a job. You’ve been cleared by the hospital, right?”
“Yeah, they kissed my butt pretty good.” The memory of BoGen’s simpering apology still made Sarah smile.
“Then I’d like you to come back to the lab, either as a counselor or a director. You could coordinate Jay’s research. We’re going to set up a Huntington’s research foundation in his name and I thought you might like to head it.” But Sarah was already shaking her head.
“I’m flattered by the offer, Matthew, but I can’t. I’ve decided to stay here for the time being and work with the horses. I like the outdoors and the people and the work too much to give it up now.”
“But you were a great counselor, Sarah. You loved that.”
She shrugged. “In a way that person isn’t me any more. There’s too much history for me there: Jay and Susan and Gordon and all of the things that happened to me because of those three people. I need to start over and I think I’m going to do it right here.”
Matt nodded and smiled at her. “In that case I’ll wish you well, Sarah. I hope you’ll consider my offer if you ever want to get back into the lab. There’ll always be a position for you at BoGen.”
“Thanks Matt, but I’ve got a life here now.”
“Would that life happen to involve a small child and a photographer?”
Sarah smiled enigmatically. “It might.” But in reality she wasn’t sure. She and Dante had barely seen each other since the day of the North Shore Classic, and when they were together, he had been distant. It was as if something was bothering him very deeply.
Could he be having second thoughts about their relationship? The only reason he’d sought her out in the first place was to avenge the death of his sister. Now that her killer was caught and facing a very long jail sentence, did Dante no longer need her? Was he trying to find a way to tell her he didn’t love her? Didn’t want her?
Her fears only intensified when Dante arrived at the farm later that day, with the hooded look still deep in his eyes. “Remember that waterfall you told me about? I’d like us to go there—I think we need to say good-bye.”
Sarah’s throat closed over the words she wanted to say. Good-bye? Why? And why go to the waterfall to do it? That was her special place, she didn’t want it tainted like that.
She wanted to cry or beg or anything that would stop this from happening, but instead she said, “It’s hard to reach by car, we’ll have to walk about a half-mile.”
“Can we ride in?” Although his eyes were still cool, Dante’s ghost of a grin seemed to challenge her.
Sarah nodded dumbly and tacked Modi and Noble, putting Dante on the old gray gelding and taking the black colt for herself. If anything happened she could be sure of Noble’s minding her voice commands.
They rode in silence along paths that cut deep into the woods. The tracks were narrow and forced them to ride single-file, which was just as well since Sarah didn’t know what to say and Dante didn’t seem inclined to talk.
He rode well enough, and Sarah supposed he must’ve used horses or mules on some of his photography assignments. It was too bad he hadn’t thought to mention the skill before. She would’ve liked to have ridden with him and taken him to some of the magical places that nestled in the forests near the barn.
As they continued along the quiet paths, a queer sort of numbness settled over Sarah and she remembered the last time she’d taken these trails, on her mad gallop with Noble when she rode to escape the knowledge of Dante’s betrayal. Now she rode slowly toward…what?
They could hear the falls before they reached the clearing at the top of the cataract. They dismounted and untacked the horses, allowing them to wander a bit and graze. Sarah would never have trusted Modi alone, but she knew Noble would come when called and the younger horse would stay close to the gray gelding.
Dante took her hand and led her to the very top of the falls where a flat boulder flanked the river as it flung itself off the precipice to fall on the jagged rocks below.
“Well, here we are,” Sarah said inanely and Dante nodded.
He reached into his light jacket and withdrew a flat packet. Sarah almost recoiled from it. If he thought he was giving her a parting gift, she was going to scream.
Seeing that she wasn’t going to open the bindings, Dante did so, and revealed a pile of photographs. They were pictures of Susa
n. “I wanted you to share this with me. You knew her too and she changed your life whether she meant to or not.” He sank to the boulder and held a hand for Sarah to join him. She was mystified. Was he dumping her or not?
Dante pulled a lighter and several Popsicle sticks from his jacket and started a small fire that spluttered feebly in the moist air next to the waterfall. He pulled one photograph from the pile and handed it to Sarah.
“This was Susie as a child, before our father got sick.” The girl had a gap where a front tooth had fallen out and she clutched a pet rabbit to her skinny chest. He handed her others, pictures of Susan growing up, graduation pictures, wedding pictures, pictures of her as a new mother, clutching baby Ellie as she had the rabbit.
Sarah held them all, not sure what to do with them. Dante looked her in the eye and the shadows were less. “When Ellie found out that I had lied to you about being Susan’s brother, she said something that bothered me for a long time. She said that her mother would not have approved of what I had done.”
“Dante…”
“No, let me finish. She was right. Susan would not have liked what I did and I wanted to apologize for it. I excused myself by saying I was doing it for her when I was really doing it for myself. I wanted you for my own and I didn’t know how to make that happen with the truth, so I kept lying. That was wrong and I hope you’ll forgive me for it.”
Sarah spread her hands helplessly. “Of course I forgive you.” I love you, she wanted to say, but didn’t because the bleak look was back in his eyes.
“Thank you,” Dante said with odd formality and took the small stack of pictures from her. The little fire between them hissed as the wooden sticks were consumed and Dante pulled one last photograph from the pile before returning the others to his jacket pocket. It was one of Susan’s autopsy photographs, one that he must have taken from Gordon’s office. Sarah made a small sound of distress.
He placed the photograph in the tiny fire, which flared up to consume the paper and laminate. An acrid smell stung their nostrils, only to be quickly swept away by the fresh air of the waterfall. Susan’s dead face blackened and charred to white before it disappeared, crumbling to a pile of ashes. Dante allowed the fire to gutter and die then swept up the warm remains, dividing them into two handfuls. He handed one to Sarah.
The Stable Affair Page 26
