I stepped out of the limo at my front door, gave Fred a tip large enough to make him grin, and let myself inside. After deactivating the alarm system, I paused. I had always enjoyed the quiet before, but now it had a quality of emptiness I had never noticed.
Maggie Knowles, my housekeeper, didn’t live in. That suited us both. She prepared meals and left them in the Sub-Zero for me, complete with instructions. She took care of light cleaning and called in a cleaning crew and landscape service once a week. It was perfect.
I could work from home uninterrupted. The thought crossed my mind I should get back to that, but then my doctor’s words went on replay. You have a big, fancy, empty stable…Maybe what I needed to do was take a look at it. I changed into casual clothes and walked to the empty barn with its white paint and green trim.
Horseback riding. How the devil was I going to do that? Did I even want to? As I headed toward the stable, I admitted Jack had a point. With success, my workload had increased. My assistant, Will, had become one of my few points of human contact other than clients, and except for rare occasions when I needed him at a meeting, he worked out of his own house.
Standing in the doorway to the barn, I stared down the empty aisle bordered on both sides by equally empty stalls. Maybe putting horses in here and learning how to ride and maintain them would give me something to care about besides business.
“Trying to figure out how you can monetize your barn?” a laughing, feminine voice asked from behind me.
I spun around. “Sherry. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I came to check on you. I was running errands in Maysburg and saw you leaving the ER. Everything okay?”
I laughed. “Yes, although Jack seems to think I need to take my recreation a bit more seriously. He’s suggested horses. You ride, right?”
Sherry Rowland leaned against the barn. In her late forties, she lived on the estate next to mine. She’d been a big help suggesting local companies to work on my property along with introducing me to some of the locals. Although she dropped by fairly often to chat, I didn’t know a lot about her. She was widowed. She seemed to know everybody in the area. She rode horses.
That last one could help me now.
“Since I was a kid. And Jack suggested it to you?”
“Why should that surprise you? After all, I have this great barn sitting here…and that riding place there.” I waved my hand at the large, sandy area nearby.
“Ring or arena. Most people around here would call it a ring.”
The look she gave me was filled with skepticism. Okay, that kind of irritated me. I had always been successful at everything—well, maybe not family and personal relationships—but everything else. Like business and mergers and buyouts.
That sounded pretty boring. And lonely. I had sudden visions of ending like Ebenezer Scrooge—alone and bitter. Not the image I wanted.
If this whole riding horses and learning to be a likable human being was going to work, I was going to need help. I’d start with the horseback riding.
“Would you by any chance know someone who might be able to work with me to put horses in here and teach me how to ride?”
Sherry tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “A couple of people come to mind. Both good trainers. I just don’t know what their availability might be.”
“Names? Numbers?”
“Either Steffy Burke or Reece Wilder. Steffy’s got her own farm though, so I’m not sure she would be willing to spend a lot of time away from it.”
“And the other person? They don’t? What’s wrong with them?”
Sherry’s brows arched. “He’s very talented. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with him. His business is a bit more mobile since he rents a barn. I don’t know that either one of them would be willing to make the kind of commitment you’re probably going to want.”
I looked around the quiet barn and the empty paddocks and ring. “I will need someone willing to stay here to get this up and running. Someone who can be available to fit my schedule.”
Sherry stepped away from the barn. “I’d try Reece then. Google him. You’ll find his number.”
“He’s not some prima donna asshole, is he?” I wasn’t going to deal with someone’s fragile ego. I’d pay enough it wouldn’t be a problem. It seemed to work with almost everything else in life.
Sherry laughed. “You know. I think Reece and you will be perfectly suited.”
Whatever that meant.
I watched her amble back toward her farm. Sherry liked to walk. She’d told me that when I bought the place, and I had agreed to let her continue to do so. After all, she had been a big help. Sometimes, though, I wondered. She had an odd habit of popping up like today. If I were a more nervous sort, she would have scared the crap out of me.
Shaking my head, I walked back to the house. I had more work to do on the recycling buyout if I was going to hook Quinn Maitland, but first, I was going to find this Reece Wilder person. Maybe I would surprise Sherry and Jack, prove to them that I could both relax and learn how to do something like ride a horse. What was there to it, after all? You climbed on, sat in the saddle, and the horse did all the work.
2
Reece
Sabina, aka Beanie, Barlow was once again racing around the ring in the small pony hunter over fences class like she was riding a dirt bike, pigtails flying from beneath her helmet and her demon pony with his ears pinned back launching himself at every jump from way too far away. Poles flew, and jumps transformed into architectural disasters, but at least the little devil was no longer screeching to a halt and dumping Beanie on her butt in the dirt.
“Slow down, Beanie!” I called. Why, I’m not sure. I knew from experience that she wasn’t hearing a word I said—not the way the wind was rushing past her ears.
“They’re doing better, aren’t they?” her mother asked with a hopeful smile, her hands still grasping the top fence rail with a white-knuckled grip.
“They are, Mrs. Barlow,” I reassured her. “She’s over the last jump and still on top of little Buttercup. That’s a wonderful improvement.”
I left my post along the side of the ring to head to the entrance gate next to the announcer’s stand. Ripper, my Jack Russell Terrier, trotted at my heels, a thin piece of baling twine connecting his collar to my belt—my concession to the show secretary that all dogs must be leashed. I had no doubt that Ripper would pout until we were back home again.
One more schooling show and the local summer horse show season would be over. Thank heaven. I met Beanie at the gate.
“That was so much better than last time, sweetie.” I praised the little girl, taking in her rosy cheeks and her bright, pansy eyes. “You’ve worked hard with Buttercup, and it shows.”
“Thank you, Weece,” she managed to say around her enormous grin. “Should I go untack?”
I patted her leg. Most of the rounds in this class had been disasters, so there was a good chance Beanie could still be in the ribbons.
“Not yet. Stick around until the judge pins the class. You never know.”
I turned away when my adult amateur client hurried toward me, a pissed-off look pinching his lips and knitting his brow.
“Reece, the open jumpers are only two classes away. I need you to help me warm up my horse.”
I bit back the snotty retort that rose to my lips. There were only two schooling fences in the warm-up ring, a vertical and an oxer. If he couldn’t prepare without my help at this point, he didn’t need to be on the horse. My jaw clenched. I needed to get my own horse ready. She had been standing in her stall all day while I worked with clients, and I needed to let her stretch her legs.
“Help Jordy,” a familiar voice said from behind me. “I’ll get Satin out and saddled. My kids are done for the day.”
I turned to find my friend, Steffy Burke, smiling at me. I grabbed her cheeks and kissed her on the tip of her freckled nose. “I love you, even if you are a girl.”
“Let me have R
ipper too. He probably needs a drink of water and a dog bone.”
I glanced at my fur buddy. At the word bone, his ears had perked up.
“Greedy bastard,” I muttered.
Steffy gave me a push. “Go. Help Jerky…I mean Jordy. Leave the rest to me.”
“I owe you.”
“I know.”
I jogged over to the warm-up ring, weaving my way inside an area that would make an air traffic controller stroke out. Horses and riders trotted and cantered in opposite directions in no apparent order. As I approached the oxer to widen the distance between the poles of what the horse would jump as a single obstacle, I heard another rider shout, “Heads up over the oxer!”
I jumped out of the way. The most dangerous place at any show was the warm-up ring. For the next several minutes, I worked with Jordy and his gelding, tweaking approaches and turns to help prepare them. The man was an annoying ass, but he was also the best paying customer I had. Most of my clients were cute kids like Beanie Barlow, whose riding would slack off as soon as school started again.
I was late. I needed to put on my show clothes and get ready to ride. I didn’t like to compete head-to-head with my own clients, but Satin needed more experience, and Jordy had decided at the last minute that he wanted to branch out from his usual round of amateur owner classes to try an open jumper class.
I couldn’t afford to scratch Satin from the class. Not only couldn’t I waste the entry fee I had already paid, but the mare was also my chance to prove myself. She had the talent and the attitude to make it big. I couldn’t fail. Not like my dad had.
Jordy stopped by my side at the edge of the ring.
“So, how are you feeling?” I asked, keeping a professional smile firmly in place.
“Like we can beat you.” From most other people, this would have been delivered with a laugh or a smile, but Jordy was serious.
“Great. You should approach it with that kind of confidence.” If my smile was a little forced, I doubted Jordy would notice.
“Do you have a rag in your pocket? Would you mind getting the dust off my boots?”
I continued to smile, took the rub rag from my pocket, and wiped the dust. Jordy’s custom-made boots were shiny enough I could see my reflection.
“I’ll leave you to it. I need to get changed.”
Jordy gave me a curt nod. I knew he had hoped I would withdraw, but that wasn’t an option. I would hear about it later. Honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to care, and that had been the problem for most of this summer. It was time for a change. I had known it for a while but hadn’t been able to bring myself to take that step.
The spark was gone. I’d been out on my own since I was eighteen. After fourteen years, I couldn’t bring the same level of enthusiasm to schooling show ribbons and the occasional larger, rated show. Yet, for now, it was my life, my career, and if I couldn’t get enthusiastic about it, I was doing my students and their horses a disservice.
Steffy huffed at me as I approached Satin’s stall. “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you Reece? Get changed. I’ll saddle her for you.”
“I owe you.”
“You’ve told me that already. Go.”
Inside the stall we used as a tack room, I toed off my paddock boots, stripped off my jeans, and quickly pulled on body-hugging buff breeches. Boots were next. Mine were well-worn, but a coat of polish and some elbow grease had turned them as shiny as Jordy’s custom-made pair. Shirt and tie in place, I pulled my navy jacket from its hanger, grabbed my helmet and gloves, and went outside.
Satin stood there, her dark brown coat glistening and my favorite jumping saddle firmly girthed in place. The mare gave me a reproachful look.
“I know, you’re feeling neglected, but Steffy’s given you a fantastic makeover.”
My friend popped her head around from the other side where she was still fiddling with the bridle’s throatlatch. “Stop jabbering. The first round is already on course. You have about five minutes to pop her over some fences. I’ve jogged her back and forth a couple times to warm her up. Mount.”
In another minute, Satin and I were the ones joining the melee of the warm-up ring. Steffy must have shown the mare enough of the showgrounds already that she had calmed down. I was able to go right to work without the usual horse-eating monsters jumping out to spook her. She cleared the vertical with ease and responded well when I checked her speed going into the oxer. Feeling the lift and power of her jump made me grin.
This mare was so amazing, with so much heart. I hoped I was worthy of her.
“You’re on deck,” Steffy called from the fence.
“Thanks.” I trotted out of the ring and halted next to the in gate. Jordy was on course. His gelding was doing well. Not much flash, but the horse was a dependable, capable ride. They went clear. As Jordy trotted past, he gave me a challenging smile.
“Top that, Wilder.”
I guess it never occurred to him to say thanks for the training or thanks for finding this horse for me. Whatever.
“Great round, Jordy,” I told him with a smile.
The announcer called my number. We trotted into the ring, stopped, and saluted the judge. At her nod, I put Satin into an easy, collected canter and circled before going through the start flag.
“Okay, girl,” I whispered to my mare. “Show them how it should be done.”
She went clear as well, leaving every obstacle standing without even ticking a rail. In addition to my clear, Jordy and two others also had clean rounds. We would have to do a jump-off round. Now, not only was going clear important, so was time. The announcer called the fences that would be included and the order of go.
Jordy halted his gelding next to me. “Nice first round you had, but I’m sure I’ll take the jump-off from you.”
My gaze slid sideways. He wanted me to hand it to him. Deliberately.
I held his gaze. “I’m sure the best horse will win.”
Fifteen minutes later, I galloped out of the ring with the championship ribbon. Jordy had taken third. He was waiting for me at our row of stalls.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing?” he snarled. “I’m your damn client.”
I dismounted and stared at him. “I’m giving my horse the chance she deserves.”
“And that’s why you’ll never make it. I’m the best paying client you have. Without my money to pay your entry fees, you and that horse will be as washed up as your father!” He turned on his heel. “My new trainer will be over in the morning to move my horses.”
He stomped away, leaving his gelding’s reins hanging, and the horse still blowing and sweaty. The loss of Jordy would be a financial hit, no doubt about it. It might even be a knockout punch, but all I could think was good riddance to any human who would leave his horse tired and overheated. I took the gelding’s reins, along with my mare’s. After running up the stirrups, I loosened girths and began walking both horses to cool them and give them a chance for their breathing to return to normal.
Steffy was loading her horses on a big six-horse trailer. “You need a hand?”
“No. Thanks. I got it. Jordy dumped me.”
Steffy grimaced. “Ouch. I know that hurts, but damn, a part of me says good riddance. I saw him talking to Pinecroft’s trainer.”
I shrugged, a bit more nonchalantly than I felt. “Something else will come along.”
Steffy nodded. “Give me a call if you need anything. I mean it, Reece. Don’t be an ass.”
I gave her a wave and continued on my way. Jordy’s gelding and Satin were the only horses I had to take back to the small stable I leased. As I drove, I couldn’t help replaying Jordy’s comment about me turning out like my dad. He’d known exactly which of my buttons to push. My father had bet his entire career on the one racehorse he was positive was going to be a superstar. When the colt broke down, so had my dad.
That wasn’t going to happen to me. That was what I had always sworn, but right now there were only a few kids on ponies an
d Satin standing between me and the failure I hoped to avoid.
Fuck. I slapped my hand on the steering wheel as I halted in front of the barn. The sun had sunk enough for the dusk to dawn light over the stable door to come on. As I jumped from the truck cab, my phone rang. I started to ignore it. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to anybody.
At the last minute, I swiped my thumb across the unknown number.
“Hello.”
“This is Whitt Dailey. I’m looking for Reece Wilder.” The deep, sexy voice on the other end of the call sent a shiver down my spine.
“This is he.”
“I got your name from Sherry Rowland. I’m looking for a trainer who can set up the stable on my property and teach me how to ride. You interested?”
Play it cool. It could be nothing, or it could be the very thing I needed at this moment.
“Maybe. What exactly do you mean by setting up the stable?”
“It’s empty. I’d need you to buy horses and equipment for me.”
“I think I could handle that.” Like a chocoholic in a candy store. I dug my free hand inside the pocket of my jeans to stop it from shaking. I didn’t want to be too hopeful, but whoever this Whitt Dailey was might be the answer to my prayers.
“Meet me at my place at eight tomorrow morning.” He rattled off an address. “I’ll give you the tour, and we can discuss terms.”
After I ended the call, I slapped my thigh. Ripper raced toward me and leaped into the air. I caught him in mid-jump, a big grin on my face. “I think things are looking up, buddy.”
3
Reece
Stone gateposts bordered the drive leading to Whitt Dailey’s home. From the road lush pastures unfolded like a carpet leading to a large, white and green barn. If someone had asked me to picture my fantasy horse farm, this was it. I rolled down my window to suck in the sweet smell of freshly mown grass.
Beyond the barn was an impressive stone house with a roof of dark slate. The multi-paned windows bordered in bright white and the dark green double front door mirrored the barn’s colors. Dailey must have money to burn. The place looked like it had been there since colonial times.
Dr. Perfect: A Contemporary Romance Bundle Page 38
