Cal hadn’t slept a wink. Neither had Marilou. They had passed the night making love, making promises, perhaps even making the baby that would be the start of their family. It was barely four-thirty when Cal rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. Marilou had joined him, but for once they were too excited about the rest of the day to lose track of time in each other’s arms yet again.
In denims and boots, they left the car and went to the stall where Dawn’s Magic was dining on a special blend of grains in lieu of her normal early-morning workout. The filly whinnied when she saw Marilou, bobbing her head until Marilou held out a hand filled with chunks of carrot, her favorite treat.
“You are spoiling that horse outrageously,” Cal said.
“How do you know these carrots don’t provide the precise incentive she needs to win these big races? Are you willing to tamper with a successful formula?”
“I know I’m not,” Reeve Bennett said, joining them. The trainer had been hired by Chaney and Cal after an illustrious career in California. Dawn’s Magic was their first Triple Crown contender, though by no means the first major stakes horse Cal had bred. “Morning, you two. Couldn’t you sleep?”
“You have to be kidding,” Marilou said. “I didn’t want to miss a second of this.”
“Which reminds me,” Cal said. “I have something in the car for you.” He returned in minutes with a large package tied with a big red bow. Dawn’s Magic seemed to feel the ribbon was for her. She kept stretching her long neck in an attempt to nab it.
“Oh no you don’t,” Marilou said with a chuckle. “This is my treat. You’ve already had yours.” She tugged the ribbons loose and opened the box. Nestled amid the foam chips and tissue paper was a new camera, a top-of-the-line professional model. Her gaze rose to meet Cal’s. Again she caught that wavering uncertainty that came far less frequently now.
“I called all over the place to find out the best model. If it’s not what you want, you can trade it in.”
“It’s wonderful,” she reassured him. “Thank you.”
“I thought today might be a good day for you to finally begin that career you’ve put off. I’m having a darkroom built on the back of the house while you’re gone. You could do conformation photography. Goodness knows there are plenty of horses around. Or you could do studio work. If you want that, we’ll put on another room. Do you really like it?”
Tears sprang to her eyes. If she hadn’t been holding such an incredible piece of equipment, she would have dumped it on the ground in favor of throwing her arms around her husband. “You couldn’t have given me anything I would like more.”
“There’s film in it already. You’d better get started if you want to catch all of Dawn’s Magic’s big day. I don’t think Reeve is likely to wait around for you to get ready.”
Marilou spent the next two hours getting a feel for the camera. Cal had obviously anticipated her fascination. He’d bought rolls and rolls of extra film. By the time they left to change for the race, she had already shot close to a hundred pictures and couldn’t stop talking about every one of them.
When they returned to the suite, though, she put the camera on the dresser and went to Cal, sliding her arms around his neck. She molded her lips over his, teasing his mouth with her tongue until she heard the soft moan low in his throat and felt his whole body shudder.
“Some thank-you,” he murmured huskily.
“There’s more where that came from,” she said, nudging him toward the bed.
“Marilou…”
“Hmm,” she said, as she tipped him backward until he was sprawling across the still-rumpled sheets. She reached for his boots.
“Sweetheart…”
“Yes, love?”
“We don’t have time…”
“You have to change,” she reminded him innocently. “I’m just helping.”
Her hand reached just a little high before she slid it slowly down his thigh, then on down to the other boot.
“You are not helping.”
“Of course, I am,” she said, tugging off the boot. Her fingers slipped inside the cuff of his jeans as she reached for his socks. Her nails raked gently down his calves, before she bared his feet, then kissed each toe.
Cal’s protests seemed to have lost steam. The heat in the room had gone up by several degrees. She reached for the buckle on his belt. Cal cleared his throat.
“I think maybe I ought to get that.”
“No, dear. You just rest.”
“Marilou, I am not resting. Resting is a body’s natural quiet state. My nerves are on full alert.”
“Really? That’s nice.”
“You have turned into an incredible tease.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Not about the teasing. Your timing could do with a little work. We need to be back at the track in exactly one hour.”
“We’ll be there.”
“But in what condition?”
“If you’ll be a little cooperative here, I’ll have us out of here in no time.”
Cal’s body bucked as she very, very slowly pulled down the zipper on his pants. “Holy…Okay, wench, enough,” he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her down on top of him. In less than a heartbeat, she was flat on her back, her hands pinned above her head, Cal, half-dressed, looming over her.
“Let’s see if I understand this technique,” he said, freeing her hands long enough to run his knuckles along the open throat of her blouse. When the caress slowed at the first button, he followed up with a kiss. One at her throat. Then another fraction of an inch lower. Then another, peppering them across her chest until she was writhing beneath him.
“How am I doing?” he inquired with lazy good humor.
“Like a pro,” she said, working on the buttons of his shirt and fanning her hands across his bare chest until she could reach every square inch of burning flesh with hungry kisses.
The game flew out of control with his first, hot claiming of her breast. Suddenly slow became needy, then need turned to urgency. Their remaining clothes were nudged just far enough out of the way to allow Cal to drive into her with a white-hot fervor that sent Marilou quickly into a shattering, earth-moving climax. Still in the throes of passion, she arched her hips up, giving back to Cal all the love, all the commitment he had dared to give her.
Slowly their breath returned to normal, their hearts beat in a gentler rhythm, their skin cooled. But still they didn’t move, Cal’s weight crushing her into the bed, his legs tangled with hers.
“I’m getting far too old for this,” he said at last, levering himself up and trying to figure out where her clothes ended and his own began.
Marilou chuckled. “Lordy, I hope not. I’m not even thirty yet and I have no intention of stopping with just one baby.”
“Then you’d better hope you’re pregnant now. I figure I’ve got another year, maybe two before you exhaust me. Maybe you could manage twins. That would save a little on the wear and tear.”
“Say that when they both start teething at the same time,” she teased. “Get moving, love. We now have exactly twenty-seven minutes to get back to the track. I don’t want to miss one single second of Derby Day.”
“You should have thought of that before you decided to have your way with me,” he grumbled just as the phone rang. Marilou reached for it, but he beat her to it then waved her toward the shower.
They were only ten minutes late to the track. Chaney was waiting for them, looking uncomfortable in a suit. He kept running a finger around the collar of his shirt and tugging on his tie.
“You look very handsome,” Marilou told him.
“Don’t see why I had to get dressed up like this. Only time I ever wear this suit is for funerals and weddings.”
“Well, today you’re going to be wearing it in the winner’s circle,” Marilou declared. “What are the odds on our baby?”
“She’s a long shot, just like you knew she would be. Thirty-to-one in the morning line.�
�
“That’s okay,” Marilou said confidently. “That just means we’ll make more money betting her.”
“You know, missy, I wouldn’t go getting your hopes too high. She’s a danged good horse, but it’s a tough race for a filly to win.”
Marilou kissed his leathery cheek. “Care to go for a little side wager?”
He shook his head. “No way. You have a way of getting what you want out of life.”
“I haven’t got you fixed up with a good woman yet,” she said, deliberately taunting him.
He scowled at her. “And you ain’t going to, either. You just stay out of my love life and I’ll keep out of yours. Go take your pictures, girl. Maybe it’ll keep you out of mischief.”
Cal rejoined her then and linked his fingers through hers. “Ready to go to the box?”
She could feel the restrained excitement that practically vibrated through him. She squeezed his hand. “Let’s do it.”
As they walked into the clubhouse, they were met by noise. Thousands were jammed into the stands and filled the infield. Mint juleps seemed to be the drink of the day, though Marilou was far too nervous to consider putting alcohol on a stomach that was already rolling. As they cut a path through the crowd to the box Cal had taken, Marilou’s gaze suddenly shot ahead and found the tall, staid form of his grandmother. Though the older woman tried hard to maintain a disapproving frown, excitement snapped in her eyes as she drew Cal into an embrace.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“I figured if this was something you insist on doing, I’d better know why,” she said. “You say this horse of yours is good?”
“The best,” Marilou told her.
“Then if I put two dollars on her to show, I won’t be wasting my money?”
Cal grinned. “That kind of bet won’t make you rich, Grandmother, but it should be safe enough. Where’s Joshua? I thought he was bringing you.”
“He dropped me off. Said he had an errand to run. I expect he’ll be back before too long.”
Just then they heard his voice. “I’m here,” he said, edging his way toward them.
Marilou turned around, a smile on her face. Then she caught Cal’s expression. He appeared stunned. His grandmother turned pale, then sank into her seat.
“What is it?” Marilou said, taking an instinctively protective step closer to Cal.
He swallowed hard, his gaze never shifting away from Joshua and the two people behind him. Marilou hadn’t even realized they were all together until she’d seen Cal’s expression.
The woman wore a floppy white hat, a lovely silk dress and shoes that had probably come from the designer salon at Neiman-Marcus. She exuded money and self-confidence. The man, who stood shoulder to shoulder to her in height, was gray-haired and hesitant, though he had a glint of sharp intelligence in his eyes that age hadn’t dimmed.
“Hello, Mother, Father,” Cal said, his voice tight as he directed a forbidding look at Joshua.
“Your parents,” Marilou breathed. When Cal remained stiffly silent, she introduced herself, then stepped aside so they could enter the box. There was another flaring of tension when they spotted Mrs. McDonald.
Joshua caught Marilou’s elbow and pulled her back when she moved to join them. “Cal’s probably going to have my hide for this, but I thought it was time.”
She grinned at him. “You weren’t thinking of running out on us now, were you?”
He grinned back. “Actually, I planned to do exactly that. You’ll need the seats. Cal intended them for me and my date. All things considered, I think I’ll be safer down at the rail.”
Marilou let him go, then went to her seat at Cal’s side. She tried to make small talk, but everyone was too tense to respond. It was only when the bugle blew to announce that the horses were coming onto the track for the Derby that they began to relax. Cal’s father asked about Dawn’s Magic. Marilou told about watching the horse being born. Cal talked about his breeding. Marilou took bets for all of them into the clubhouse windows and placed them. By the time she came back, some sort of uneasy truce seemed to reign.
“She looks good,” Marilou exclaimed when Dawn’s Magic stepped onto the track as the strains of My Old Kentucky Home wafted through the air. “Don’t you think she looks wonderful?”
Cal managed a grin. “The fact that she’s here at all is an honor,” he reminded her.
“I don’t want to hear that garbage. You sound like Chaney. She’s going to win the race.” She smiled at him impishly. “And I’ll beat you down to the winner’s circle.”
His arm circled her waist. “That’s a bet.”
While Cal focused his binoculars on the post parade, Marilou attached her telephoto lens and snapped pictures. It seemed to take only seconds before the horses were in the gate.
“They’re off!” the track announcer said, and a roar went up from the crowd.
Dawn’s Magic broke well from her gate on the outside and moved quickly to a slot just off the lead. It was exactly where Reeve had wanted her. The track was fast, not muddy, but the filly wasn’t used to having dirt kicked in her face. He’d worried what she would do if she fell back too far. She was in third and only three-quarters of a length off the pace as they rounded the first turn.
“She’s going to do it,” Marilou said confidently.
“Sweetheart, it’s a long race,” Cal warned.
“But she’s like me. We’re both the kind who go the distance.”
“If she has your heart, then she’ll definitely take it,” he said, giving her a quick squeeze before returning his attention to the backstretch, where two of the favorites were beginning to make their moves. His grandmother’s gaze was riveted on the pack of horses speeding for the next turn. As they came flying around the far side of the oval track, Dawn’s Magic was almost neck and neck with the leader.
“Come on, baby,” Marilou whispered, her camera forgotten. “You can do it.”
Cal went absolutely still as the horses turned for home. Dawn’s Magic’s fell back to third, and Marilou’s heart sank. That usually spelled the beginning of the end. Horses often gave up after falling behind.
“Come on,” she pleaded, her hands clenched. Cal took one of them and massaged the tension away, until she folded her hand around his. Dawn Magic’s jockey showed her his whip then, flicking her lightly on the neck. The gallant horse dug deep into some inner reserve and began to move, a thousand pounds of incredible muscle supported by frail ankles and driven by heart.
With less than a length to go, she had caught up with the favorite and the crowd was going wild. Marilou strained but couldn’t hear the final call as they tore across the finish line. Her gaze shot to Cal’s, as did everyone else’s in the box. The tote board flashed Photo in giant letters to indicate that it was too close to call. The stewards would review films again and again, checking for the fraction of an inch between victory and defeat.
As if he couldn’t bear the waiting, Cal focused his binoculars again on the horses as they were riding out around the far side of the track.
“Is she okay?” Marilou asked him, her heart in her throat.
He grinned and shook his head. “Looks to me like she’d like to go for another quarter mile or so.”
“I told you,” she said. “I told you she had it in her.”
He hugged her. “So you did.”
Just at that instant, Dawn’s Magic’s number twelve went into the first place spot on the tote board. The stands exploded with sound—cheers from those with winning tickets and even appreciative applause from those who’d recognized that Dawn’s Magic had the makings of a Triple Crown champion.
Cal grabbed Marilou’s hand and started from the box. Marilou held her breath and sent him a silent message. After just an instant’s hesitation, he turned to his family.
“Come with us,” he said, his voice choked. “This should be a family celebration.”
Marilou reached for his grandmother’s arm and helped her up, b
ut then his mother slipped into place on her other side. “Let me walk with you, Mother,” she said hesitantly. “We have a lot to talk about.”
A slow smile spread across Mrs. McDonald’s face, and she winked at Cal. “Maybe we’ll talk about me buying into that Thoroughbred operation of yours,” she said slyly.
Cal linked his arm through hers. “The only way you’re getting a piece of that action, Grandmother, is at the two-dollar window.”
Marilou listened to the start of the familiar bickering, felt the slow easing of twenty years of tension, and kept her eyes on the love that was finally flowering again. It would need a lot of tending, a lot of nurturing, but it would grow. She would do her best to see to it.
Family, she thought with a tug of real longing. Then Cal reached for her hand and the longing fled, chased away forever by the strong, loving man at her side.
For years afterward, that moment would be captured for her with one snap of the track photographer’s shutter. Five people, eyes brimming with tears, smiling and holding hands while Dawn’s Magic nuzzled Marilou’s pocket for the carrot that was hidden there.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from WILLOW BROOK ROAD by Sherryl Woods.
“Sherryl Woods writes emotionally satisfying novels about family, friendship and home. Truly feel-great reads!”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
Looking for more great reads from #1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods? Return to Chesapeake Shores for a brand-new story featuring a beloved member of the O’Brien family claiming the life she’s always dreamed of: Willow Brook Road (October 1, 2015)
Catch up with the O’Brien family in Chesapeake Shores, where stories of friendship, family and love await—you may never want to leave. Collect the complete series today!
The Inn at Eagle Point
Flowers on Main
Harbor Lights
A Chesapeake Shores Christmas
My Dearest Cal Page 18
