He grunted and snatched the appointment book away from me. “Yeah, they’re bastards, but they’re rich bastards and they take damn good care of their horses. That’s the only thing that matters. Besides, we’ve got a number of stops before we get there.”
I rolled my eyes, making sure to turn my head so he didn’t see me. “I suppose.”
“No supposing. They pay their bills; take care of their horses. That’s all that matters. End of story. You don’t always have to like who you work for.” Dr. Winston slammed the schedule back onto the middle console and started up the truck.
The rest of the day went well, smaller farms in the area for the most part. Then it was off to the Upshaw’s barn, the appointment I’d been dreading since I’d seen it in the book earlier that day.
To be fair, the Upshaw’s had more than just a barn. They had a full-on racing facility. The property was made up of three forty-stall barns, plus a breeding barn and foaling barn, a full-size race track, indoor arena and over a hundred acres of lush blue grass that in a month would be waving at us in the wind as we drove down the long driveway. The barns were all pristine white, trimmed in a brilliant red that looked like it had been painted that morning it was so clean. People bustled about the farm, cleaning stalls, walking horses out, mending tack and equipment. A farm this size was rarely quiet.
Mr. Upshaw wasn’t waiting for us, which was unusual. Neither was the head trainer, Jacob. Jacob was much preferable over Mr. Upshaw, whose snide comments and upturned nose always left me feeling judged and found wanting. Instead of either of those men, a petite brunette about my age stood at the edge of the barn, waving. I assumed she waved at Dr. Winston since the closer we got, the more animated she became. She was very pretty, perky and by the way she danced about, extremely excitable.
“Ah, shit.” He grumbled. “That’s Fiona. Damn, she’s going to make this difficult.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “An old flame?”
He barked a laugh, his belly shaking all of two times before he clamped down on it. “Bah, I suppose she ran out of money again. Which means we’ll be dealing with her a lot. So play nice.” Cranking the steering wheel, he backed into the barn, Fiona hopping from one foot to the other with obvious glee.
I snorted softly to myself and glanced at him out the corner of my eye, taking in his tightly clenched jaw. Playing nice wouldn’t be an issue for me; it was him I was worried about. As one of the ‘big’ barns, keeping the Upshaws happy, even though I hated it, was important.
“She seems happy,” I noted, my eyes widening involuntarily as Fiona did some sort of cheerleader hop, kicking her heels back at the same time as she leapt in the air. Wow, perky was an understatement.
“She’s a fucking hassle. Too damn jumpy and edgy to help with the horses, but here she is. Probably gave Jacob the day off just so she could look busy and pretend to be actually working. Damn it all to hell and back, wealthy bored clients will end up being the death of me.” He jerked the truck into park, his movements giving his extreme irritation away.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Dr. Winston, I’m sure we’ll find a way to work around her.” Which really meant that I would smooth things over like I always did and everything would be just fine. Though it wasn’t in my job description, scraping the shit off the ceiling after it went through the fan was a specialty of mine.
With a grunt, he swung his door open, banging it into the sidewall of the barn, chipping a chunk out of the red trim with a thud. I cringed while Dr. Winston acted like it hadn’t even happened.
Opening my door, I slid out of the truck, breathing in the scent of hay and horses, a mixture that always soothed me. Made me feel as if I belonged.
“Oh my God!” Fiona’s voice ricocheted through the barn. “Dr. Winston, I’m so happy you’re still working! I had no idea.”
I came around the side of the truck to see Fiona squeezing Dr. Winston in a hug, even going so far as to kiss him on the cheek.
Old flame. I mouthed the words at her back and Dr. Winston shook his head, untangling himself from Fiona, his lips twitching almost as if he would smile. Almost.
“Come on now, Upshaw. Pull yourself together.” He gripped her upper arms and gave her a light shake.
She bounced backward out of his grasp, clapping her hands, her long brunette hair in a high ponytail that danced as if it was its own entity.
“Oh, I just didn’t know if you’d still be alive or not. You aren’t young anymore, Bruce.” She insulted and scolded him all in one sentence, and suddenly the visit to the Upshaw’s was looking much more enjoyable. I grinned openly at her back, knowing Dr. Winston could see me easily. Yes, this might just be a great end to the day after all. He glared at me and I gave him a thumbs up. Yes, looking up indeed.
Fiona bounced along ahead of us, giving a steady stream of chatter about what was going on in the barn. Not once did she address me, or even introduce herself to me. I had the feeling I’d been relegated to the status of ‘the help’. Fine by me, I wasn’t looking to make friends; I was just there to help Dr. Winston and do my job.
Fiona did a twirl so she faced us and was walking backwards. “Now, I’m taking over management here, and I’m living back on the farm and everything. So you’ll be seeing a lot more of me, I mean, you won’t need to see Daddy at all anymore. And the best part is my husband is going back to school to be a Doctor.” She gave Dr. Winston a wink. “But a real doctor, not a vet like you, Bruce.”
I had to hold my breath to stop the gasp that filled my mouth. A glance over at Dr. Winston and I slowly let my breath out, relaxing as I took in the amused expression on his face. He was totally unaffected by her insults. The more she talked, and the more that I stared into the emptiness of her eyes, I realized she didn’t even see that what she was saying was an insult. Fiona was clueless to the extreme.
She clapped her hands together, startling me. “And we’re going to have this new trainer come in, the King of Horses is what they call him, I think it’s because his last name is King something or other. Cute, right? But, he’s got a flu or cold or something though, so he’s had to postpone, said he might not be able to make it at all. But seriously, can you imagine not wanting to come here because of a cold? I mean, really, that is just downright silly … .”
I blocked out the chatter of her voice, seeing her for what she was. A nervous girl, not sure of where she stood in the world. My eyes flicked over her, saw the anxiety in her stance, even the way she smiled. The way her eyes darted around her, uncertainty in every line of her body. She acted like if given the merest chance—at a loud noise or something she didn’t like—she’d bolt. I knew horses like her. They came across as brassy and confident, but it was just on the surface. Underneath, they were terrified of the world around them.
Those kinds of horses could be dangerous, lashing out when you least expected it, catching those around them by surprise with their sudden and devastating behavior. I hoped I was wrong and that Fiona didn’t prove to be as bad as I was pegging her.
The first horse we pulled out was an older bay mare Dr. Winston was checking to see if she was in foal. Each foal could be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, depending on their bloodlines and talent, so the mares were prized in the big racing barns as much as the stallions.
Fiona had disappeared, chasing after one of the grooms, which suited me just fine. I went and pulled the sometimes high-strung mare from her stall, being careful to move slow and keep my voice even.
“Hey darling.” I whispered, stroking the mare’s forehead, rubbing her between her eyes and down the big white blaze to the tip of her muzzle. Her eyes closed and she leaned into my fingers, silently asking for a scratch, her breath blowing out in a huge sigh.
“Oh, here, I’ll hold her.” Fiona jumped, yes jumped, to my side seemingly out of nowhere, and yanked the rope out of my hands. “She knows me. I’m her favorite.”
The mare’s eyes flew open and she snorted, blowing chunks of partially che
wed hay and oats all over Fiona’s shirt. The girl squealed, flapping her hands and shaking the rope, which only sent the mare scrambling backward. “See, she loves me.”
I took a step back, feeling bad for the mare, and feeling worse for Dr. Winston. The Upshaws didn’t trust things like ultrasound machines, so he had to do the preg test the old fashioned way.
Arm in, all the way up to the elbow. This was about to get dangerous, for everyone involved.
With the mare now agitated by Fiona’s high energy and jerking on the rope, Dr. Winston stood at the mare’s hip, trying to calm her down. She lashed her tail back and forth, her hooves striking the concrete floor as she pranced.
Dr. Winston took his time, speaking softly to the mare until he was able to get in position.
I stood beside him, ready to hand him anything he needed, or to help pull him out of harm’s way.
Giggling, Fiona jerked the rope up, sending the mare backward again, pressing Dr. Winston into the wall via the mare’s large rump. She didn’t apologize though. “My phone is on vibrate, oh my God, it totally needs to be in my front pocket.”
Usually a preg test didn’t take this long, but Dr. Winston getting dragged around by his arm wasn’t helping. The danger increased with each second that passed, as did his temper.
“Hold the god-damned horse still,” he said, the words harsh; the tone anything but. He knew better than anyone that it was all about the tone.
“Your help got her all riled up,” Fiona said, looking at me apologetically and shrugging. I didn’t say anything, bit my tongue. There was nothing to be done for spoiled, stupid clients. Nothing at all but ignore them and, in Dr. Winston’s own words, “charge the shit out of them.”
Finally, Dr. Winston gave a nod. “She’s pregnant.”
But after that mare, things went downhill. Each horse we worked on was progressively worse, which only seemed to make Fiona higher strung, if that was even possible.
Fiona walked the second to last horse away from us. I leaned over to Dr. Winston. “So, you think this King of Horses she keeps talking about could train her while he’s at it?”
Dr. Winston let out a snorting laugh. “Good god, let’s hope so.”
The last horse of the day was an untrained stud colt—new to the barn—and he was wild. I mean rearing and bucking as Fiona led him down the hallway, his blood red coat shimmering in the light that ghosted through the barn. She squealed and danced in front of the horse, which only egged him on, sending him into orbit again and again.
I’d had enough. This was getting dangerously stupid, and while I knew it would piss her off, I couldn’t stand by any longer. Trying to be soothing, I held out a hand appealing for the colt’s lead rope. “Fiona, I’m sure you’ve got so much going on, why don’t you let me hold this one? You’ve already spent so much time with us, and it looks like maybe he is just too much for you.”
Beside me, Dr. Winston went very still. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I had no intention of my boss ending up in the hospital because I wasn’t willing to stand up for us.
“What did you say to me?” Her voice climbed with each word, her brown eyes wide with incredulity, the horse dancing around her, snorting and kicking out with his back hooves.
I’d tried being nice, but her tone was the last straw. “I said” —I walked over to her— “to hold the horse properly or let me do it. You are making it worse and this is dangerous enough as it is. We don’t need you adding to it, getting the horses riled up.”
She gasped, put a hand to her chest, letting go of the rope on the stud colt, a rookie move. “I know how to handle horses—”
I reached over and grabbed the trailing rope. “No, you don’t. You’re freaking them out with your gasping and squealing and jumping around. Control yourself.” I stared at her, watched her eyes fill with tears.
Oh, shit.
I hadn’t expected her to burst into tears, worse, they weren’t the silent quiet tears a normal person might indulge in. She let out a wail, her screaming cry snapping the colt into action. Everything happened so fast, a blur of movement that I was only able to piece together later. The colt reared up, snorting with fear, eyes wild as his hooves struck out at us.
His front hoof caught me in the side of the head, a glancing blow, throwing me backward, and again Fiona screamed.
The clatter of hooves on cement, Fiona screaming, Dr. Winston barking orders, and through it all the steady thrumming of my own heart, the scent of horses and hay. Wondering if I was dead. Maybe. Then I wouldn’t have to get married. Where the hell had that thought come from?
Darkness. Cool cement. I could just stay here. That would be fine. Yes, stay here forever.
“Come on, open your eyes.” I didn’t recognize that voice. But I liked it, the way it seemed to push everything else away. I groaned, and made an attempt to lift my hand to my head, to touch the spot where a growing heavy pounding was taking place inside my skull.
“No, don’t move. I just want you to open your eyes. I want you to look at me. Can you do that?”
With some effort, I opened my eyes, found myself staring up into a stranger’s face. The man behind the voice.
“Tell me your name.”
From where I lay, flat on my back, all I could do was stare up at him, soak him in. Dark brown hair cut short to his head, with a strong jaw line; his nose looked like it had been broken at least once, giving it a slightly crooked twist, but I liked it. His lips were parted, and concern filled his eyes, eyes such a soft shade of blue they were almost violet. Gorgeous.
He smiled. “You must have hit your head pretty hard. I’ve never been called that before,” he unconsciously rubbed the crook in his nose.
Crap, had I said that out loud? I moved, shifting my weight to one side, as if to get up, wanting to be standing, not stretched out on the concrete floor and staring up at this man I didn’t know.
“Until you tell me your name, you’re staying right there.” His hands were on my shoulders, holding me in place. Big, gentle hands that warmed my skin even through my thick work shirt. His forearms were bare, muscular, like he worked out. Much bigger muscles than I would have expected on a … what was he? One of the outriders?
“Come on, you can tell me your name at least, can’t you?” His eyebrows darted upward. Right, he’d asked me that once already, hadn’t he?
“Brielle.”
“Good, that’s a start. My name is Darwin, and I’ll be your paramedic today.” He smiled down at me and I had the urge to reach up and touch his face, see if he was real. No, I was dreaming, I had to be. He placed a folded up pad of gauze next to my left eye, strapping it down with some tape.
“You’re going to need stitches here, not a lot, but this won’t heal on its own, at least not well. Do you remember what happened?” His hands were at my neck and then he slipped a plastic neck brace on with ease that spoke years of practice.
I thought for a moment, tried to put the pieces back together. Blurry and indistinct, I took a guess.
“I think my head was introduced to a horse’s hoof.”
Darwin nodded, his lips quirking to one side, revealing a dimple in his right cheek. “Yes, that’s what I hear.”
Another man came into view, wearing dark pants and a white uniformed top. He had short grey hair and carried a backboard.
“We’re going to strap you on this” —Darwin pointed at the back board— “and take you to the hospital for stitches, and to make sure nothing else is going on beside that cut.”
“No, I’m fine. Really.” I put my hands to the neck brace, my fingers working at the straps. My thoughts were a jumble of confusion, the morning’s appointments blending together with the big blood bay colt that had struck me. Why was I on the floor again?
“Dr. Winston, when did Sandy and Ron get thoroughbreds?”
Dr. Winston crouched beside me. He was looking at me like I was a horse he was worried about, one that he wasn’t sure was going to make it. I’d
never seen him look at me like that before and I didn’t like it. “They didn’t, girl. You need to go to the hospital. We’re at the Upshaw’s place and you have a pretty damn good knock to the noggin.”
Darwin took my hands in his and held them tight. “Head injuries are serious and you were out cold for a good ten minutes, maybe more, and while you know your name, you are definitely not okay.”
God, his hands felt nice on mine, so I closed my eyes and just let my fingers curl around his. Why did it feel so good? Maybe just because I was so confused and he felt solid and safe in those moments, he felt like someone I could hang onto who wouldn’t let me down. It had been a long time since I’d known someone who hadn’t let me down. Darwin and his partner got me onto the backboard and lifted me up in a single smooth motion. Then they walked me to the waiting ambulance, the gentle rocking of their steps lulling me. Dr. Winston patted my foot as I went by him. “You can have tomorrow off.”
I mumbled a response, my hands reaching up to the air. I wanted to feel Darwin’s hands on mine again. They felt like hands that would take care of me, make sure nothing bad would happen. Which was so stupid; I was not that kind of girl. I wasn’t like Fiona, who no doubt needed several people just to help her tie her shoes in the morning.
Speak of the devil—Fiona was again just suddenly there, filling my entire field of vision, her wailing cry piercing my ears. A groan of pain escaped me, her crying only making the throbbing in my head worse. I mouthed the words, ‘shut up’ but she was too loud; no one heard me.
“I told her to let me hold the colt, but she wouldn’t listen to me, and then he didn’t like her, that’s why she got hurt.” She stood above me, as she flapped her hands in the air for emphasis that no one needed.
Darwin cleared his throat, but I couldn’t see him or his partner with my head strapped down.
“I’m sure that’s what happened, but we have to get her to the hospital now. You have to let us go.”
The back door of the ambulance closed on Fiona’s tears and I let out a sigh as the ambulance started and began the trek to the hospital. The silence was downright blissful.
Ninety-Eight (Contemporary Romance) Page 2
