Grace sat on Digger’s back, still smiling and talking non-stop, so relaxed she wasn’t even gripping the horse’s mane. She sounded much more normal now, like the kid she was, a marked contrast from her earlier formality. Her shirt was as wet as Cassie’s, her hair even wetter, and her reserve had been left somewhere back at the bottom of the brook.
“Digger sure is a nice horse.” Grace leaned forward and brushed a horsefly off the bay’s glistening neck. “Bet my parents would buy him for me.”
Cassie made an unintelligible sound. There was no chance Gramps would sell Rachel Sutherland one of his horses, not after yesterday. Besides, Digger wasn’t at all suitable for Grace. Sure, he was perfectly behaved when being led, and after a bit of coaxing, he’d stood quietly in the brook and let Grace crawl all over him.
But he was fast, agile and much too responsive to leg pressure. He wouldn’t understand Grace’s bouncing seat or her swinging legs. Grace was a beginner and needed a horse with far less spark. Considering her background, it was a mystery why she didn’t already own a suitable horse.
“Did you have a pony when you were younger?” Cassie asked, keeping her eyes on the wooded path ahead. She’d already learned Grace opened up more if she didn’t feel like she was being watched.
“Yes,” Grace said. “I had Lady and Stillwell and Jazzy, but they all bucked me off. And they were small and stubborn and Mom said they were smarter than me. Polo ponies are different. They’re not really ponies anyway. Isn’t it weird that a Thoroughbred can be called a pony just because he plays polo?”
“I think that expression started in India,” Cassie said. She hesitated, wondering if Grace was deliberately trying to change the subject. The girl seemed to open up about certain subjects, then clamp down on others. And Cassie just wanted her to have a fun morning. “So,” she said, “did you ever ride a bigger horse? One the size of Digger?”
“A little bit,” Grace said. “But I never liked how I looked when I was riding, you know…”
She paused but Cassie didn’t fill the silence. She kept her gaze straight ahead as she led Digger and his rider up the path. Something rustled in the brush and a squirrel scolded from the trees, but it was quiet enough to hear Grace’s increasingly agitated breathing.
“Breeches make me look gross,” Grace finally said, her words coming in a rush. “Don’t tell anyone though. It’s embarrassing and then they want me to talk about it with the psychologist. And I’m not going to.”
Cassie couldn’t help glancing up at Grace’s face. So that was the real issue. And the reason Grace was happy to ride Digger. No one was around to see, and today she wore jeans instead of tightly molded breeches.
“It’s okay for riders to wear comfortable clothes,” Cassie said gently. “You don’t always have to dress for a polo match or horse show.”
“We do at our stable though,” Grace said. “Everyone has to. It looks more professional. And Mom says it makes you a better rider.”
Cassie wiped some water drops off her forehead. Alex had believed that too until he took lessons from Gramps and realized that jeans didn’t hurt his equitation. “The most important thing,” she said slowly, “is to be safe. Wear boots with heels, don’t be distracted with your phone and always wear a helmet.”
“Not like this one though,” Grace said, giggling again. “Your helmet is way too big. My parents would have a fit. They’re anal about my safety.” She shoved the dented helmet higher on her head, still laughing at its fit.
Cassie tightened her grip on Digger’s reins. The helmet was definitely poor protection and she needed a reality check. She liked Grace but she couldn’t forget the girl was an heiress. And her parents hadn’t given her permission to come here. To ride in a brook with an ill-fitting helmet, on a spirited Thoroughbred. And while Cassie would never shrink from any confrontation over Ginger and Gramps, she’d clearly overstepped with the Sutherland’s daughter.
Alex had kindly replaced the trailer tires but he would be as incensed as Rachel if he thought Cassie was influencing his daughter. And rightly so. It was never acceptable to interfere with someone else’s child. And he doted on Grace.
“Can we go down to the brook again tomorrow?” Grace asked.
Cassie couldn’t control her horrified shiver. What if Grace had been hurt today? “I don’t have time,” she said. “I need to work with the horses, and I want to spend time with Gramps.”
“But I can look after Ginger. And groom and clean stalls too. I could do it in the mornings while you’re riding. Then you’d have even more time to see your grandfather.”
Cassie’s mouth lifted in a reluctant smile. She hadn’t had time to clean the stalls yet so having Grace around would be a real benefit. The girl might not have the confidence of her parents but she possessed Alex’s desire to help. Still, the idea of a Sutherland child shoveling manure didn’t sit right.
“It’s summer,” Cassie said. “Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”
“I had a friend once but she moved away. Mom used to invite other girls over from my private school but they all rode way better than me.”
Cassie froze midstride then forced her legs to keep walking. Grace really was lonely. But she shouldn’t be so competitive. “Someone will always ride better than you,” Cassie said. “Someone will always ride worse. That’s life, just like everything. But you should—”
She pressed her lips together, cutting off the rest of her sentence. She needed to shut up. No ‘you shoulds’ or any other well-meaning advice. It would be folly to say anything more. Rachel and Alex would resent it, and Gramps was already facing horrible rumors. The Sutherlands could make his life miserable; Rachel already had. More reason to sell his polo ponies quickly and help him leave this insular horse world.
Besides, the little brook ride, though enjoyable, had eaten up several hours of valuable time. She still had all the stalls to clean and two horses left to ride. Gramps would be ready for lunch soon and she needed to contact other polo clubs. Let them know he had four well-trained horses for sale before Rachel had time to smear his name.
“I think,” Cassie said slowly, “that you should go home now. Before your parents worry. And I don’t have time for any more brook rides. I’ll clean the stalls later, when it’s cooler.”
“I understand,” Grace said. “But may I come back tomorrow and help with Ginger? If that’s okay?”
Her tentativeness was back and there was also hurt in her voice. For a moment Cassie winced with shared pain. This girl just wanted a friend. Under normal circumstances it would be great to have her hanging around. Cassie loved encouraging kids, and movies that involved young riders were always her favorite jobs. But Rachel would be livid.
And last night Alex had made it clear he also didn’t want any association with Cassie. He’d walked her home because he wanted to delete that phone recording. There’d been no mistaking his vehemence when he denied Grace’s request to learn about training a horse for swimming.
And today Cassie had done that exact thing.
“You can’t walk over here again.” Alarm raised her voice. “And I think your parents would prefer you to spend time at your own stable. With their good horses and trainers.”
“But they don’t have to know. I can sneak across the back fields.”
Cassie’s wet shirt didn’t seem so comforting now. In fact, she felt bone chilled. Alex had been furious the first time she walked to the Sutherland Estate alone. She’d been seven years old, and it had been a boring summer because she’d fallen and broken her arm and couldn’t ride or swim. But she’d found a pretty blue robin’s egg on the ground and needed help putting it back in the nest.
Her grandfather hated to be interrupted when he was training horses so she’d hurried across the south field to the Sutherlands’, running almost the entire way. Alex had been in the middle of a riding lesson with a coach his father had flown in from England. But he instantly dismounted, passed his reins to a groom
and kneeled by her side.
“What’s wrong, Cass? How did you get here?”
He’d listened intently, but his face had turned all stony when he learned she’d walked. One of the Sutherland chauffeurs had driven them back in a white limo and Alex had poured her some cold lemonade from a little fridge in the car. The driver had waited while Alex climbed the tree and replaced the robin’s egg.
But she could tell he was annoyed. And before he left he walked right out in the middle of the round pen and talked to Gramps. Then Gramps told her she could never cross the fields alone and if she ever wanted help, she was allowed to interrupt him when he was training. After that Gramps was more aware of where she went, and it was all because Alex didn’t think young girls should be alone, especially in a lonely field surrounded by country roads.
“You shouldn’t walk across the fields alone,” Cassie said, her voice firming. “I’ll drive you home today, but you better not come back again.”
Grace’s lower lip trembled and Cassie yanked her head away, feeling like she’d kicked a puppy. But this situation was impossible. And that section of land had a rough reputation, though undeserved.
Neither of them spoke as they emerged from the wooded trail into the clearing behind the barn. Digger started to prance, excited to be home. From inside the barn, Ginger gave a welcoming nicker. Digger immediately tossed his head and skittered sideways, eager to rejoin his friends.
Cassie tightened her grip on the reins. It would be horrible if Grace fell off now, with Digger only forty feet from the barn. She could even break a bone. Rachel would doubtlessly start a lawsuit. The Sutherlands had the best lawyers, and Gramps would lose his home, his barn, everything he cherished.
“You better get off here,” she said, abruptly halting Digger.
“All right,” Grace said. She looked a little puzzled but gave Digger’s neck a pat then slid from his back. When her feet hit the ground, the oversized helmet dropped over her eyes and halfway down her face.
Cassie almost choked with relief. That helmet had been useless and even her grandfather would have been horrified. But no one had seen, and now all she had to do was drive Grace safely home. She’d drop her off at the staff entrance and pray she wouldn’t mention her escapade to either of her parents. They’d never have to know.
Grace pushed back her helmet and looked up. Her face lit up in a beautiful smile. “Hi, Dad,” she called.
Cassie stilled, then slowly turned. Alex stood in the doorway of the barn, his face shadowed. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up and he had a pitchfork in his hand.
“Hello, ladies,” he said.
“You should have seen me. I was down at the brook.” Grace leaped with excitement, gesturing over her shoulder and spooking Digger with her flailing arms. She quickly regained her composure though her grin remained. “It was so much fun,” she added, easing away from Digger’s swinging hindquarters. “I rode Digger in the brook and Cassie taught me how to teach a horse to stand, just like she does for the movies. And then I rode him bareback all the way home. And guess what, Digger is for sale, and I think we should buy him.”
Cassie gave a silent groan. It sounded like she’d been doing a snake oil sales job, taking advantage of a sweet young girl. It was clear Digger was no proper child’s mount. The horse was spinning now, head up and snorting, deciding that whatever had excited Grace was probably dangerous and it was best if they all skedaddled.
Cassie took her time calming him, then looked at Alex’s face, expecting to see distaste, if not flat anger. But he merely stepped a little further from the barn, listening intently as Grace talked about her awesome cannonballs and how she’d ridden without a saddle and that she hadn’t once fallen off.
And then he looked over Grace’s head and grinned. And Cassie’s heart slammed against her ribs. He looked so much like the old Alex, and he didn’t seem angry at all.
“Digger wasn’t like this at the brook,” Cassie said. “He just got excited now. I wouldn’t have let her ride him if it was dangerous.”
“I know,” he said. His smile faded as his gaze lowered to her chest, and she realized her shirt was still wet. Worse, his scrutiny filled her with a rush of awareness and she could feel her nipples hardening beneath the thin shirt.
“Excuse me,” she said, leading Digger past him, hating this unwanted pull of sexual attraction. At least it was darker in the barn and she wouldn’t be at such a disadvantage. And maybe he wouldn’t pick up on her churning emotions. Wouldn’t realize his intent gaze still inspired hot flashes. She’d stay inside and clean stalls until he left. She was surprised to see him, that’s all.
And then she led Digger into his stall and was doubly surprised. Alex must have been here a while. He’d cleaned all the stalls, swept the aisle and even filled the water buckets. His sports jacket still hung over a stall door. It had probably been years since he’d mucked out a stall, and she knew she should be grateful. But now she had nothing left to do. And she just wished he’d load Grace up in his car and leave.
She heard him outside talking to Grace and a moment later he stood in front of Digger’s stall.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “Grace had a great time with you today.”
She slipped off Digger’s bridle and replaced it with a halter, pretending she was totally composed. “Great,” she said. “She had fun in the water too.” Once Grace quit fretting about dirtying her clothes. Cassie couldn’t remember ever worrying so much about a little mud. It must be because of the restrictive Sutherland dress code.
“She told me she’s ready to start riding again,” Alex said. “As long as nobody is around.”
“Part of it might be that she prefers riding in jeans,” Cassie said. “Instead of breeches. She worries about that.”
The stall door clicked and Alex stepped in beside her. “What do you mean?” he asked, clearly shocked but careful to keep his voice low. “She said that?”
He seemed to suck up the oxygen in the stall, making it difficult to breathe. “Yes, but she didn’t want to talk about it much,” Cassie said, surprised her voice sounded so normal. She turned, preparing to snap the lead rope on Digger’s halter.
“Wait.” Alex reached out, stilling her hand. “Are you sure? She’s never even hinted at that to me.”
His gentle touch made her skin tingle, all the way to her toes. And he was so close and smelled so familiar, a heady combination of spice and leather that dominated her senses and made something flutter deep in her belly. If she turned her head, her face would brush his chest. But she’d made that mistake before.
She shrugged, using the movement to press back against Digger’s solid shoulder. “Girls often worry about their appearance,” she said, “especially when they’re growing. Maybe she wasn’t comfortable talking about it.”
“But she was comfortable with you,” he said. “I saw you down there. In the brook. It was amazing, hearing her laugh. And I want that for her, the fun, the camaraderie… What we had.”
His tone changed and she made the mistake of looking up at him. For a brief moment his expression was unguarded, almost wistful. Then it shuttered. “Is this horse for sale?” he asked. “Grace really likes him.”
“Digger isn’t the right horse for her,” Cassie said, still absorbing that he’d walked down to the brook and seen her stripped to her underwear. Half naked and frolicking like a kid. Teaching Grace to play like a heathen. Yet he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he sounded approving.
“Gramps has been working with Digger for the last eight months,” she said. “Hoping to sell him as a polo pony. He’s almost as good as Ginger. By the way, thanks for looking after our trailer. We’ll pay you for the tires, and the tow.”
“Don’t be foolish,” he said. “You know how I feel about you and your grandfather.”
His tone was rough but tender at the same time, and it left her unbalanced. She’d always known what he was thinking but not anymore. And it hurt that he hadn’t
looked her up in all those years. She didn’t intend to ask any personal questions. But he was standing so close, the way he always lingered in the barn in case she needed help. She probably wouldn’t have another chance to talk to him again.
“How long have you been divorced?” she blurted.
“Six years or so.” He stepped aside, pushing the stall door back and making sure it was wide enough so Digger wouldn’t hit his hips. “We can talk more inside. Your grandfather invited Grace and I to stay for lunch.” His mouth lifted in a rueful smile. “And it’s been too long since Jake spoke to me, so you can bet I accepted.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cassie felt like she was in a time warp.
She sat stiffly in her chair while Alex and Gramps bantered about the newest training methods, arguing with a familiarity born from confidence and mutual respect. At one point, Alex left the verandah and strode into the kitchen, unerringly finding the jar of peanut butter that Gramps kept in the third cupboard on the right.
“Have some more, Cass,” Alex said, passing her half of a neatly cut sandwich and then sliding the other half on Grace’s plate. The ease with which he used her old nickname shouldn’t have made her flush, but it did.
“This is good,” Grace said, chewing enthusiastically and thankfully drawing everyone’s attention. “We almost never have peanut butter at my house.”
I bet not, Cassie thought. No Sutherland cook would have been permitted to serve peanut butter and jam sandwiches. That had been the staple here though. Gramps had been too busy to make complicated meals. Besides, next to lobster sandwiches, peanut butter and jam were still her favorite. On her birthday once, Alex had surprised her by adding sliced bananas and that had been good too. He’d always brought great lunches.
“Tomorrow I’ll bring the food,” Alex said, as if reading her mind.
She gave a nonchalant shrug. But then the full significance of his words hit and she reached for her water glass, surprised her hand was so steady. “So you plan on lunching here again?”
MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance Page 9
