by Helen Conrad
Miki had been her favorite horse from the first. She’d only been allowed to ride him after her credentials as a skilled rider were established, for Miki was destined to be the first real champion that Windways produced. The stallion moved like a dancer and was proud, but thoroughly anxious to please—the perfect champion. Shawnee spent every moment she could with him.
And then—tragedy. While one of the trainers was allowing him to wander out on the trail, Miki had run into a thorny thicket and injured both eyes. When the family had called Shawnee to tell her, she’d thought her heart would break in two. She could hardly stand it. She dashed over to the stables and for the next three days, she lived right there with her favorite horse, caring for him every moment.
The attempts to heal him were desperate and anguished. They tried everything the veterinarian could suggest, applying medication, soothing the big horse in any way they could. But finally, they had to admit defeat. Miki was blind.
Shawnee had taken it hard. At one point, Murph’s son Kanyon had insisted on staying with her, worried that she was on the point of taking her own life in her agony. And she had to admit, there was something to that. She was a little worried herself. But suddenly she got a new focus, a new goal.
Murph and his crew talked about having Miki destroyed, and Shawnee quickly offered to buy him instead. The price was right. There wasn’t much demand for a blind horse. Murph let Miki stay in his old stall and she worked with him every day. At first it was just to give him exercise, but eventually she realized how well the horse responded to her, that he could still do the complicated maneuvers he’d been trained for, and the dream began to grow. Maybe—just maybe—the two of them together could win the Californio Days Horse Show. If they did, it would be the first time anyone had beat the Santiagos in forty years.
But no one must know Miki was blind. If the officials found out, Shawnee knew he would be disqualified. And here she was, showing her horse to a Santiago on the first full day of her return. That was a very bad sign.
David was looking him over with a practiced eye. “I thought he was an Anglo-Arab, but I’ve never seen any horse with such a silver sheen to his coat.” He reached beyond her and put his hand on Miki’s neck, murmuring softly when the big horse moved beneath his touch. “With that black mane and tail, the contrast is really striking. What’s this fellow’s name?”
She hesitated before going ahead and giving him the full, formal name Miki went by. “Native Silver.”
David nodded, his hand still on the horse. Shawnee was surprised Miki was tolerating it. He usually didn’t allow strangers to get that friendly. But David obviously had a way with horses, having lived around them all his life.
“Perfect name. That’s exactly what he looks like.”
So far, so good, but she knew she’d better leave before David got too inquisitive. Miki’s eyes were clear and looked perfectly normal. The casual observer wouldn’t see the blindness.
But David was being more than casual. If he noticed Miki was blind, she would be in big trouble, and Miki would be out of the horse show. A pulse began to beat in her throat, a simple warning. She had to be careful here. No one in the valley must know, at least not until after Californio Days in September.
“If you don’t mind,” she said a bit tersely, “I’d like to get going.”
He didn’t move away from the horse, but he did turn his attention to her. Very slowly, his dark gaze explored the length of her, taking in every curve, every angle.
“You look pretty good dressed, too,” he said at last, almost as though the fact surprised him. “Though I must admit, I prefer the more natural version.”
To her utter humiliation, she felt the red heat of a blush creeping up from her neck until it covered both cheeks, but at least he was examining her and not her horse.
“You don’t look so bad in the nude either,” she admitted, hoping to get him with a bit of his own medicine. But her attempt at a counter-attack faltered as her gaze fell to his hard, muscular chest which was still nude, and even worse, so close, so disturbing. As she stared at him, the words stuck in her throat.
“Where are you heading?” he asked softly.
“Home,” she answered, looking down at the twigs beneath her feet.
“Would you join me for dinner tonight?”
She almost gasped aloud at that, her head snapping up, her eyes wide. Shawnee Carrington going out on a date with David Santiago—didn’t he know how outrageous that would be? But no, he didn’t know who she was. Soon he would find out, but why confuse the poor man now?
“Thank you, but no.” She slipped by him and swung up on to her horse. “I’m going to be busy.”
“Don’t go yet.” He reached for the rein but she pulled Miki away in time. He looked a bit forlorn, standing there, looking after her. “Will I see you again?” he asked, gazing at her levelly.
Suddenly she was laughing. “Oh yes,” she assured him. “You’re not going to be lucky enough to avoid that.”
And then she was off, riding Miki carefully down the hillside, hoping David didn’t notice how much of the work she was doing herself.
It didn’t take long to get back to the little twenty-acre strip of land she’d grown up on. Actually, it had once been a part of Rancho Verde. Now it was all Granpa Jim had left.
Shawnee walked Miki down the dirt road that led to the house. She noticed sadly, as she had the day before, how ramshackle the little frame building was. The place probably hadn’t had a fresh coat of paint in at least ten years. There was no lawn, only a scruffy dirt area with patchy weeds. Surely there had been a lawn when she was a child!
She thought back and pictured the way things had been when she was young, when her parents were still alive. Her parents. It broke her heart every time she thought of how they’d died in the crash of a small plane on a trip to Las Vegas for a weekend of fun. They’d left her all alone when she was just eighteen.
Well, sort of. After all, Granpa Jim and her sister Lisa were still around. But Lisa had already married Brad and Granpa Jim mostly lived in the past. So at the time, she’d felt she had to go somewhere else, to begin to make her way in the world without being steeped in all this wretched background of pain and deception.
Now she was back and she looked around with fresh eyes. The trees looked as apathetic as the house, and the bushes around the front steps were grey with weeks of accumulated dust. Her old home seemed to have given up, just the way her grandfather had.
The stables were a little better. Although none of the old horses were still kept here, the structure had been looked after and kept clean. Shawnee wondered if her grandfather still puttered out here, dreaming of old glories. She unsaddled Miki and rubbed him down before leaving him to rest while she went on to the house.
The screen door screamed a loud complaint as she entered the familiar room, so full of old ghosts. The same ancient mauve carpet flattened wearily under her feet. The same flowered wallpaper distracted her eyes. The same cluttered, shadowed room opened up to welcome her.
“Who’s that? Betty? That you?” Her grandfather sat in a dim corner of the room. He seemed to be waking from a nap.
“Hello, Granpa Jim.” She knew she looked a lot like her mother, especially in this light. “It’s me, Shawnee.”
He made the shift in time with no problem. “Where’ve you been all afternoon?”
He reached out with both hands and drew her down for a sound kiss.
“I’ve been exercising Miki,” she told him. “But I’m home now. Did you need me for something?”
“Course I need you. What do you think?” His old eyes seemed to lose their focus again. “The work is really piling up. Those new boys from Tucson just don’t know the country. I can’t get out to the fences like I used to. I’ve been hoping you’d come back and give me some help. Ride out and check on those cow hands. They’ll get away with all they can pocket if we don’t watch ‘em.”
Shawnee smiled tenderly. It had be
en a long time since the Carringtons had hired ranch workers. “Yes sir. I’ll do that. But I want a chance to get a good look at you first. It’s been a long time, and I’ve only had one day to get used to being with you again.”
He snorted with something that seemed to be humor. “Don’t look at me, girl. I’m just an old bag of hides. Not much meat left on me. Plenty of spirit, though!”
She grinned. “You bet. You look full of fire to me.”
“I am girl, I am. I gotta be, you know. That wiley old fox, Dan Santiago, is still gunnin’ for me. He wants Rancho Verde, always did. I gotta stay sharp to keep ahead of that outlaw.”
Shawnee watched and listened, her heart full of love. This old man, the father of her father, was such a part of her. It was as though she’d never been away.
He was surely older. And less well. In his mind, it was forty years before, back when he, Jim Carrington, had been the owner and operator of the largest ranch in Destiny Valley. Others might find this sad, this preference for living in the past, this inability to face the truth of the present. But Shawnee didn’t. It was a past she’d been immersed in from infancy, and it was almost as real to her as it was to him.
Her parents had both worked hard. Her father, Tom Carrington, had farmed their little twenty-acre plot for what he could get from it, and also worked a full-time job as an office manager in town. Her mother, Betty, had been a secretary to a law firm in Solvang, a Danish town in the neighbouring Santa Inez Valley—a long drive away. Shawnee had been left to grow up at home with Granpa Jim.
Granpa Jim created a special world for the two of them that no one else seemed willing, or even able, to enter. All summer, Shawnee would tag along behind him, helping him hoe down between the rows of sweet corn, sitting beside him as he weeded among the tomatoes, handing him a wrench to help make a delicate adjustment in the irrigation system. In the winter, she would dash home from school to help him with the livestock.
And all the while, he was weaving the enchantment around her, telling her about the old days. About spring roundup, when cowboys from all the neighboring ranches joined in a huge fiesta and danced for three days straight with the ranchers’ daughters. About the lazy picnics by the Rio Caliente which ran through Rancho Verde. About the long, hot days mending fences and looking for strays. About the serenades, the love affairs, the battles of honor.
And finally, about the Santiagos. The rich, arrogant, land-hungry Santiagos. They’d wanted Rancho Verde, and they’d got her in the end. As Granpa Jim always used to say, “If you see a Santiago coming, you’d better keep one hand on your wallet and the other on your shirt.”
She listened while her grandfather talked on, conjuring up the good old days again. If she could give him just one day of that former glory, she would feel she’d done her best for him. That was what she’d come home for. If she, a Carrington, could win the horse show with a stallion descended from the old Rancho Verde stock, if she could defeat the Santiagos, Valley champions for the last forty years . … .
Well, that was all she wanted now, all she was living for. She and Miki would do it together. Just let the Santiagos try to stop them!
Then the defiance faded and she remembered David Santiago, how she’d responded to him, how much . . . yes, darn it all, how much she liked him! It was impossible. She had to get thoughts like that out of her mind. He was the enemy. She had to remember that. Otherwise, how could she win?
CHAPTER THREE
THE SANTIAGOS ALWAYS WIN
“The Santiagos have always won at the horse show,” Lisa told her sister the next morning as the two of them sipped coffee in her bright, yellow kitchen.
Shawnee had driven over in her ancient blue Camaro to have her first real visit with the rest of her family since she’d returned home.
“It’s traditional. It’s expected.” She rose impatiently, moving to the oven to check on the chiles rellenos dish she’d prepared for lunch. “Besides, what chance do you have? You’ve never won a show in your life.”
That was a sticking point, one Shawnee would rather not face. “I’ve never wanted to win one like I want to win this,” she answered softly, hoping the tremor in her voice didn’t betray just how uncertain she was. “And I’ve never had such a wonderful horse before.”
Lisa shrugged. “Well, the Santiagos have won before. Rose Santiago, the aunt, has won the title for the last ten years or so, but this year, Allison is back, and I hear she’s going to carry the banner for the family.”
Shawnee looked up in surprise. “Allison? David’s older sister?”
Lisa nodded. “You know she’s won all kinds of titles in Europe. I’d say she’s pretty stiff competition.” She made a pout with her full lower lip. “Going up against her, all you’ll be doing is guaranteeing a Carrington will lose to a Santiago. Again.”
But Shawnee hardly heard her. “So Allison is back? What happened to the mid-European count or duke or whatever it was she married?”
“She’s divorcing her husband, from what I hear. And she’s living at Rancho Verde again.” Lisa’s eyes glazed over with other thoughts. “I wonder if I could get her to come to the dinner party for the Falwells next Thursday? We’re going to be short one female . . .”
“Lisa! You wouldn’t have a Santiago to dinner in your house!”
Lisa looked at her sister as though she were a poor, misguided thing to be pitied. “I’ll have a Santiago any time I can get one. They’re the biggest catch in the valley. David was here for the cocktail party we had for Will Sangrini when he announced his candidacy for Congress last fall.”
Shawnee knew that Lisa had dreams of a political future for Brad and was busy laying the groundwork now.
“He’s a real charmer,” Lisa went on. “In fact, he’s out at the office with Brad right now, going over some accounts.”
“David Santiago is here?” Shawnee jumped up from her chair and looked about, as though she were afraid he would pounce out at her from the broom closet.
“Don’t worry. He came on business. He’s helping Brad with some equipment purchases for the dairy.” She shrugged. “He comes all the time. He never comes in, though.” Lisa plopped down in her seat with a sigh of resignation. “Honestly, Shawnee, you’d think they hailed from Transylvania or something. They happen to be the most prominent family in the Valley, and very nice people besides.”
“Oh yeah. I know that. But how did they get that position, Lisa? You know very well they got it by stealing Rancho Verde from us, or had you forgotten that?”
Lisa shrugged. “Every family goes through its ups and downs. Granpa Jim is the only person who talks about ‘stealing’. No one else seems to know about that. But, honey, the past is in the past. Don’t let it poison your life.”
Shawnee closed her eyes, trying very hard to relax, to respond to her sister’s comfort. She didn’t want to fight, not on her first visit since coming home. She slipped down into her chair again. She wanted to have a nice talk with her sister and to clear her mind of all thoughts of David.
But it wouldn’t clear. It hadn’t for hours now. Late last night, trying vainly to fall asleep, and then in the morning, while taking Miki out for a run and then putting him through a light session of schooling, no matter what she did or where she went, the afternoon swim on Santiago property was never far from her mind. And when she remembered the circumstances, the cool water on her naked skin, the sunlight on his, she felt a gasping quiver run through her body, a feeling that thrilled and frightened her at the same time.
“David’s on the Californio Days Board, you know,” Lisa added irrelevantly, and Shawnee knew she was ready to discuss every member of the Santiago family at length. “And Stewart got married ages ago. The word is, he dotes on his wife. She’s some kind of wine country heiress, so they spend most of their time up there. Napa Valley, I think. But I’m sure they’ll be here for Californio Days.”
Shawnee nodded absently. She really had very little interest in David’s brother Stewart. Tho
ugh he’d been around more than David in the old days, she’d never had much contact with him. But since all of the Santiagos had gone to private schools, shunning the public high school where she and Lisa got their education, they’d never mixed socially. She remembered Stewart as a smiling, good-natured boy, handsome, but hardly as exciting as his brother David.
Exciting. Had she really thought that? Yes. As she rose to help Lisa set the table for lunch, she had to admit it was true. David was exciting. Even when she’d only seen him from a distance, riding near the borders of his land or driving one of his many sports cars through the little town of Destiny, passing Shawnee walking home from school on the dusty roads or down to the soda shop for an afternoon Coke, he’d looked exciting.
He was a forbidden temptation, even then.
“Is Brad going to join us?” she asked, counting out silverware.
“I think so. I know he meant to. Set a place for him, anyway.”
Lisa’s home looked like something out of a fashionable magazine. In her elegant living-room, the walls were papered in muted beige velveteen and the furniture was all chrome and rich, deep burgundy, set out stylishly on a thick, tan carpet. The dining area was glassed over like a greenhouse room, letting natural sunlight stream in to enhance the rubbed cherry wood of the table. The chairs were padded with ivory linen and tiers of greenery spilled from raised planters all along the walls.
“Here’s Brad now,” Lisa announced from the kitchen.
Shawnee heard the back door opening as she set the lemon-yellow napkins alongside the lime-green place-mats.
“Where’s my favorite sister-in-law?” Brad’s affection for her was reserved but solid, and she turned with a smile to meet the hug she knew she would get as a greeting. The big man took her up in a bear-like embrace and she laughed, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before her eyes connected with the dark gaze of the man who’d come in behind him.
Time stood still again. Funny how that always seemed to happen when she looked into his eyes. Lisa went on bustling about them, offering David a choice of beer or lemonade, and Brad introduced the two of them, not knowing they’d met before, and all the while, they were carrying on their own silent communication, quite apart from what was going on in the rest of the world.
