by Lisa Jackson
“Good morning, Missy,” the trainer said, without bothering to look up. When his job was finished, he placed the foaling record back on the post near the stall. Once the card was complete, Tiffany would enter the appropriate information into the farm’s computer.
“That it is,” she said, mimicking Mac’s speech pattern.
Mac’s brown eyes twinkled. “What’s got you in such good spirits?” Forcing a tired smile, he leaned over the railing of the foaling box. “Could it be this little lady, here?”
“She’s got a lot to do with it,” Tiffany admitted. The little filly hid behind the protection of her mother’s flank. At the filly’s skittish behavior, Alexander’s Lady’s ears flattened to her reddish head, and she positioned herself between the intruders and her foal.
“Mama’s takin’ her job seriously,” Mac decided.
“Good.”
The newborn poked her inquisitive nose around the mare’s body and stared at the strangers through intelligent brown eyes.
“I told you she’d make it,” Tiffany said. The precocious little bay looked so healthy. The filly couldn’t die. Not now.
Mac’s knowing eyes traveled over the mare and foal, but he didn’t offer his thoughts to Tiffany. She read the hesitation in his gaze. It’s still too early to tell, he was saying without uttering a word.
As Tiffany watched the two horses, she realized that the stall had already been cleaned. The smell of fresh straw and warm horses filled the small rooms attached to the broodmare barn which were used for the express purpose of foaling.
“You didn’t have to stay in the sitting-up room,” Tiffany remarked, knowing that she was wasting her breath. Mac was from the old school of horse training. “There’s a monitor in the den.”
“Aye, and what good does it do ya?”
“I used it last night.”
Mac laughed. “As if you don’t trust me.” She was about to protest, but he stilled her with a wave of his arm. “I like to be close, especially since we’ve had so much trouble. If anything goes wrong, I’m right next door.” He cocked his head in the direction of the sitting-up room positioned between the two foaling boxes. “It’s what I’m used to.”
Tiffany didn’t argue. Mac had been around horses long before the introduction of video cameras and closed-circuit television. “There’s fresh coffee up at the house, and Louise is in the process of whipping up a special brunch, if you can stick around.”
“The missus—”
“Is invited, too.”
Mac rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin and cracked a wide smile. “She might like that, ya know. She’s always grumblin’ ’bout cookin’ for me,” he teased.
“I’ll bet.” Tiffany laughed in reply. Emma McDougal positively doted on her husband of over forty years, but Mac was none the worse for his wife’s spoiling. “Why don’t you grab a cup of coffee, or take this thermos and then go home for a while? Bring Emma back with you around eleven.”
“And what about you?”
“I’ll stay here until Vance arrives.” Tiffany checked her watch. “And then, if Vance approves, we’ll let John watch the horses.”
“If you think you can trust him—”
Tiffany waved Mac off. “John’s only nineteen, I grant you, but he’s been around horses all his life, and he’s the best stable boy since—”
“You?” Mac asked, his eyes saddening.
Tiffany pushed aside the unpleasant memories. When she had been a stable boy to her father, Mac had been with the horses on the racing circuit, but he had learned of her duties through Ellery. “Maybe,” she acknowledged. “Now, go on, get out of here.”
Mac took his cue and left Tiffany to watch over the new mother and filly. The little bay foal scampered around her mother on legs that had grown stronger with the passing of the night. “You’re going to make it, aren’t you?” Tiffany asked, before glancing at the foaling record and noting that everything had been recorded perfectly. The time that the mare’s water broke, when the foal was born, when it stood, and when it first suckled were duly noted along with the foal’s sex and color. Everything looked normal.
Tiffany looked at the impish bay horse and let out a long sigh. “Let her live,” she prayed in a soft whisper that seemed to echo through the rafters in the high ceiling.
She was just straightening up the sitting-up room when she heard the door to the foaling shed creak open.
“Tiffany?” Dustin called softly.
“In here.” She peeked around the corner and was surprised to find Dustin dressed in a business suit. “What’s going on?” she asked, pointing a moving finger at his neatly pressed clothes.
“I’m going back to Florida.”
“Today?” She stepped back into the corridor to meet him. His face was set in hard determination, and a small frown pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“Have to.”
Tiffany held her palms up in the air. “Wait a minute! You just got here yesterday.”
Dustin’s gold eyes held hers. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked, his voice much too familiar in the well-lit building. The only other sound was the whisper of hay being moved by the horses’ feet.
“Yes...no...” She shook her head in bewilderment. “If you want to. What’s the rush?”
He looked genuinely disappointed and refused to smile. “I only came back to make sure that you were all right,” he admitted, his frown deepening. “And from the looks of it, you’re fine.” His eyes slid down her slim form. She was clad only in worn jeans and a pink pullover, but with her hair wound over her head and the sparkle back in her intense blue eyes, she appeared both elegant and dignified, a no-nonsense lady who had her act together.
“Did you expect to find me in a crumpled heap—falling apart at the seams?”
Dustin shook his head but didn’t smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. “I guess not. But it happened once before,” he reminded her.
“That was different. Ellery was killed.” She watched the smooth skin over Dustin’s even features but saw no trace of any emotion that would betray his inner thoughts. Dustin acted as if he believed his brother dead.
“Right,” he agreed.
“As well as Devil’s Gambit.”
Dustin looked up sharply, and in that split second Tiffany knew that he was lying to her. For the past four years, Dustin had been lying through his even white teeth. Without considering the consequences of her actions, she turned toward the stall and forced herself to appear calm, though her heart was pounding irregularly in her chest. It was time to find out how much of Zane’s story was fact and how much was fiction, and she had to do it now, before Dustin left.
“I was thinking,” she remarked, sliding a furtive glance in Dustin’s direction.
“About?”
“Well, I still don’t want to use Moon Shadow as a stud. Not until I understand what happened to those four foals, and I hear from the other owners.”
Dustin nodded. Tiffany saw the movement from the corner of her eye. She propped her elbows on the rail and continued to watch the filly.
“So I was hoping to send some of our mares to other stallions, if it’s not too late to nominate them.”
“Sounds good to me.” Dustin checked his watch and shifted from one foot to the other.
“You have any ideas on whom I should call?” she asked, her throat dry with dread.
“What?”
She shrugged. “Well, you’re always high on one horse or the other. You know, a few years ago you thought we should breed Felicity to King’s Ransom.”
Dustin stiffened. The movement was slight, nearly imperceptible, but Tiffany caught it. “He’s a good sire. Proof enough of that on the European tracks recently.”
“Do you still think it’s a good idea to send Felicity to him?”
“An impossible one, I’d say. King’s Ransom’s got to be booked solid.”
Tiffany lifted one shoulder. “I just thought that maybe you knew the ow
ner—could pull a few strings.”
Dustin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He came over to the stall and stood next to her. “You want favors? That’s not like you, Tiff. You’re the one who always plays by the rules.”
“This is an unusual case—”
Dustin’s arms reached for her, drew her close. “What is it with you?” he whispered against her hair. “What’s going on here?” His finger traced the line of her jaw before lingering on the pout of her lips.
Her mind racing fast, Tiffany slid out of the circle of his arms and clasped her arms behind her back. She cocked her head upward to meet his gaze. “I just feel pushed against a wall sometimes,” she said, knowing she was treading on thin ice with the turn in the conversation. She forced her hands into the pockets of her jeans and hoped to God that she wasn’t betraying her inner feelings.
“And how would breeding one of our horses to King’s Ransom change that?”
“It wouldn’t, I suppose. There are plenty of good studs, here in the States.” Lord, she hoped that she was a better actress than she had ever given herself credit for. “But we need a winner—a real winner.”
“We’ve got Journey’s End,” he volunteered, intrigued with the change in her. His brother’s widow was a mystifying creature; wild one minute, sedate the next. Intelligent, proud and sexy as hell. Dustin decided then and there that he would gladly give half his fortune for the chance to tame her fiery spirit.
“I know,” Tiffany replied. “But what we really need is another horse like Devil’s Gambit.”
Dustin paled slightly, his hands dropped to his sides, but for the most part, he managed to keep his composure intact. “He’s gone, Tiff. So is Ellery. You’ve got to face it. You’re never going to have another horse just like Devil’s Gambit, and you’ve got to forget this unreasonable loyalty to a dead man.”
He captured her arm with his fingers and tugged her gently to him. “You need to live again, Tiffany. Without the ghosts of the past surrounding you. Ellery is gone.... Think about letting another man into your life.” He paused dramatically, and his gilded eyes darkened with passion.
Tiffany wanted to recoil from him and shout that another man was already in her life, that she had committed her heart to a man she barely knew, and she was dying inside without him. Instead, she pulled away before the embrace became more heated.
“Think about me,” he suggested, his eyes raking over her in lusty appraisal.
“I...I have too much on my mind to think about starting new relationships,” she said, knowing the excuse was as feeble as it sounded. If she wasn’t careful, Dustin would see through her act. “The foals—” she angled her head in the direction of the newborn filly “—Journey’s End’s career...a lot of things.”
Dustin tugged at his stiff collar, but his golden eyes never left her face. “You said you felt pushed against the wall.”
“I do.” She lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture and gambled with what she hoped was her trump card. “Someone’s offered to buy me out.”
Dustin froze. “What?”
It was too late to back down now. “A man was here last week.”
“What man?”
“An Irishman. Zane Sheridan.”
Dustin looked as if he would sink right through the floor. All of his well-practiced composure seemed to slide through the concrete.
“Ever heard of him?”
“Yeah. I know him.” Dustin shook his head. “What does he want with this farm? He already breeds horses in Europe.”
“Maybe he wants to break into the American market,” Tiffany suggested, her fingers tightening over the railing of the stall. God, she was a terrible liar.
Dustin began to pace the length of the short corridor. “Maybe,” he said as if he didn’t believe a word of it. His mouth tightened and he ran a hand over his brow to catch the droplets of cold sweat that had begun to bead on his forehead. “I suppose he told you all sorts of wild stories.”
“Like?” Tiffany coaxed.
“Like—hell, I don’t know.” He held up a hand in exasperation and looked up at the cross beams of the shed. “I may as well be honest with you, Tiff.”
Here it comes. Dustin is about to confess, Tiffany thought, suddenly cold with dread.
“There wasn’t much love lost between Sheridan and Ellery,” Dustin announced. His topaz eyes softened, as if he wished he could save her some of the pain he was about to inflict. For the first time Tiffany realized that Dustin did, in his own way, truly love her. “They were involved in a poker game—for high stakes. Sheridan lost. I don’t think the man likes to lose, and he took it none too well, let me tell you. He even went so far as to claim that Ellery had been cheating. God, I was there. I don’t know how Ellery could have cheated. From where I sat, Ellery won fair and square.”
“How—how much money was involved?”
“Somewhere around two hundred thousand dollars, I think. Supposedly it wiped Sheridan out. But apparently he’s back on his feet again.”
Tiffany’s mouth was dry with tension. “You haven’t seen him since?”
“No, but I know he breeds horses in Ireland. I’ve seen a few of them race. He’s got a two-year-old filly who’s ripping up the tracks.”
“The filly sired by King’s Ransom?”
Dustin cast her a worried glance and nodded curtly. “I wouldn’t trust that man, Tiffany. He’s got a reputation in Europe for being ruthless.” Dustin began stalking back and forth in front of the stall. “I don’t understand why he wants to buy you out. What did you say to his offer?”
“That I wasn’t interested, and if I ever did want to sell out my part of the operation, you had first option.”
Some of the tension in his shoulders dissipated. “Good.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Did he say anything else?”
“Not much,” Tiffany lied with a twinge of regret. “But I think he’ll be back with a concrete offer.”
“Great,” Dustin muttered, his gold eyes impaling her. “Whatever you do, Tiff, don’t sell out to that bastard.”
“Are you still interested in owning all the farm?” she asked. Several years before, Dustin had offered to buy her out, but she had steadfastly refused.
“Of course I am. I just never thought you’d want to sell.”
“I’m not sure that I do.”
“Then you will give me first option?”
“When the time comes....”
Dustin appeared relieved, but there was something else that he was hiding from her; she could read it in the shadows of his eyes.
“Dustin.” She touched his sleeve lightly. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Dustin walked away from her and pushed his hands into the back pockets of his slacks. His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he grumbled, condemning himself. “It’s all water under the bridge now.”
Tiffany’s heart nearly stopped. Was Dustin going to admit that Devil’s Gambit was alive and siring foals as part of an incredible charade that would rock the Thoroughbred racing world on two continents? She felt almost physically ill with dread.
“Ellery was involved with a woman back then.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, rocked to the very core of her soul as she began to understand what Dustin was saying. She felt cold all over; her heart was heavy in her chest. “A woman that Zane was in love with?” she guessed, praying that she had misunderstood her brother-in-law.
Dustin’s brows quirked at Tiffany’s familiar use of Sheridan’s name. He let out an angry oath. “More than that, I’m afraid. She was Zane Sheridan’s wife, Stasia.”
Tiffany sucked in her breath and her throat began to ache painfully. Truth and fiction began to entangle in her confused thoughts. What was Dustin saying? “Wait a minute...” Dustin was giving her too much information and it made her head swim. She had thought he was going to confess about Devil’s Gambit, but instead he had brought up Zane’s e
x-wife...and Ellery. Dear God, was that why Zane had come to the farm, his gray eyes filled with revenge? Had he pretended interest in her only to throw her off guard? “Nancy Emerson said something about Zane’s wife running out on him, but not with Ellery. The man’s name was—”
“Ethan Rivers.”
Tiffany swallowed against the dread flowing in her blood. “No.” She had to deny what Dustin was suggesting and her shoulders slumped.
“Tiffany, listen!”
She shook her head and fought against hot tears. “Are you trying to tell me that Ellery used an alias?” She clamped her fingers over the top rail of the stall for support.
“Sometimes.”
Pained blue eyes delved into Dustin’s murky gaze. “But why?” Alexander’s Lady sensed the tension and snorted.
Dustin waved off Tiffany’s question as if it were insignificant. “Sometimes it was just easier...if people didn’t know we, Ellery and I, were brothers.”
“I don’t understand.” And I don’t think I want to. It would be easier not to think that Ellery used me in the past and that Zane is using me still....
“You don’t have to,” Dustin said harshly and then softened a little when he saw her stricken face. “Tiffany, it really doesn’t matter, not now. When Ellery and I were first getting started, we had to do a lot of...maneuvering to get established. Sometimes, when we were in Europe trying to sell some of our stock, it was just easier for Ellery to pose as a rival bidder to drive up the price of one of our own horses. Once in a while it backfired and no one bought the horse in question, but other times, well, we came out of it a few dollars richer. We didn’t really hurt anyone by it.”
Tiffany’s eyes grew round with horror. “Oh, no?” she rasped as anger replaced despair. She leaned against a post for support, but her blue eyes blazed with rage. “You can justify it any way you want, even give it such fancy terms as ‘maneuvering to get established,’ Dustin, but I think what you and Ellery did was manipulate people and the system to pad your wallet.” Tiffany felt sick inside, empty. “That’s illegal—”
“Probably not,” Dustin denied. “Immoral, maybe, and probably unethical—”
