The Fake Husband
Page 9
Both Terry and Rhys wore grim expressions, suggesting they saw more in this rebellion than simple horse fidgets. Erin came up on Jacquie’s other side.
“What happened?”
Jacquie explained while Andrew calmed the horse down and then brought him to the side of the ring. “Well?”
Rhys stood silent for a moment. Then he looked at Terry. Finally his gaze came to Jacquie and he lifted a brow in question. “Would you?”
She opened her eyes wide. “Ride him?”
“You’ve got the skill and the experience to get him across, if anybody here does.”
“But you—”
He shook his head. “My…back…is bothering me today. I’d consider it a favor if you would ride the horse over this jump.”
How many times in her life would she get the chance to ride an Olympic champion? Jacquie couldn’t find the strength to resist. “Erin, run get your helmet for me.”
She walked to where Imperator stood and put a hand under his nose. “What’s going on, big guy? These jumps are like rain puddles, right? You don’t even think about them.” He sniffed at her palm and along her wrist. “That’s right. You just got confused for a minute, didn’t you?”
Andrew slid to the ground with a thump. “I can’t think of anything you could do that I wasn’t already doing.” His face was tight with hurt pride.
“You’re probably right, and he’ll probably dump me at the first fence.” Buckling on Erin’s helmet, Jacquie smiled at him. “I’m just taking advantage of your dad’s invitation to ride a spectacular horse. Humor me, okay?”
The boy’s face softened. “Yeah, okay.” He handed her the reins. “Want me to give you a leg up?”
“I’ll do it.” Terry walked up beside them. “Ready, Miss Jacquie?”
“Sure.” No one had used the term “Miss” for her in years, and it gave her the jitters. She grabbed the reins and the back of the saddle, then bent her left leg. Terry took hold of her at the knee and ankle and tossed her up toward the back of the horse. Imperator stood over seventeen hands at the shoulder—a total of sixty-eight inches, three more than Jacquie was tall. The ground looked a long way away. “Okay, then. A couple of warm-up laps, I think.” When she glanced at Rhys, he gave her a nod. With a gulp and a deep breath, she set out on the ride of her life.
Rhys watched closely as Jacquie trotted Imperator around the track along the rail of the arena. The first time he’d seen her ride, he’d been impressed with her control, her balance, her intelligence in working the horse. Nothing had changed. She handled Imp as if they’d worked together for years, reading his signals, imposing her will with finesse and strength. When they shifted to a canter, he nodded.
“That’s the way a transition is done,” he told Andrew. “Just a lift and a step forward in the new gait.”
“She’s pretty amazing,” his son admitted.
Erin, on Rhys’s other side, grinned.
After two rounds of canter, Jacquie circled at the bottom of the arena and came around to the jumps. Andrew and Terry had lowered the poles back to two-six. Imperator started to balk, but Jacquie urged him over with her legs and voice. Still, he twisted his hind feet to the side, as he had with Andrew over the higher fence.
“He remembers Adelaide,” Terry commented. “He was pretty badly scraped up after that bloody jump.”
“We can work on the twist.” After a second go over the three simple fences, Rhys signaled Terry to raise the height to two-nine. Jacquie’s riding got the horse across. Even in the chilly afternoon, with the light dimming, Imp wore a coat of lather on his chest and between his rear legs. White foam dripped from his mouth.
Terry grunted. “This is the most he’s been worked since November.”
Jacquie rode to a stop in front of them. “Do you want to try three feet?” Her face glowed and her eyes were bright with excitement. “Shouldn’t be too tough for a big guy like this.” She gave Imp a firm pat on the shoulder. “He’s an amazing ride. I’ve never felt such physical power.”
Rhys’s thoughts jumped back in time…to the nights he’d spent with Jacquie in the apartment over the stable in New York, and how much power they’d shared between them as they made love. Sometimes he’d felt as if they’d lived through an earthquake.
With his eyes fixed on her face, he saw the same memory take hold in her mind. A flood of color swept through her cheeks, and she turned her eyes to Imp’s mane. “So, do you want me to try three feet?”
“Sure,” he said, struggling to get his mind back on track. Andrew hopped into the arena to fix the jumps even as Terry growled, “Bad idea, if you ask me. The horse isn’t jumping right. One of them’s going to be hurt.”
In the same second that Rhys realized Terry was right, it was too late. Jacquie had made her circle and was coming up to the jumps at a slow, steady canter. Maybe it will be okay, was his last thought as Imperator cut violently to the side at the initial fence. He humped his back and kicked out with his rear legs, then sat back on his haunches and pawed at the air with his front hooves. Just as it looked as if the big horse would end up on the ground on his back with his rider underneath him, Jacquie fell off.
Imperator thudded down to earth again and galloped straight out of the arena. Swearing, Terry and Andrew followed.
Rhys was beside Jacquie almost as soon as she hit the ground. She lay on her side, curled into a ball. Her eyes were shut. He couldn’t even see her breathing.
“Dammit, Lennon, are you okay?”
“No…air.” The words were a sort of gasp.
He ran his hands gently over her back, her arms. No obvious broken bones. “Can you move?”
Her body jerked, and uncurled a bit. “Maybe.” One word, but less strained than before. She moved her arms, managed to prop herself up on an elbow. “Knocked…the air out…of me.” Her short laugh sounded rough. “Couldn’t breathe for a minute there.”
If she could laugh, Rhys figured he could do a more thorough examination. He felt her legs from ankles to thighs, took her head in his hands and tilted it gently from side to side. “What hurts?”
“My pride, mostly.” She pushed his hands away and got to her knees, then, with Erin’s help, to her feet. “I thought I would be the miracle worker for the great horse.” Brushing dirt off her shoulder and side, she frowned. “He’s afraid of the fences, Rhys. He tenses up as soon as he sees the poles, and the closer you get, the stiffer he feels.”
“I’ll worry about the horse later. Come into the house and sit down. You need something to drink and some painkiller.”
She shook her head. “I’m okay. Erin and I will just load up and get home.”
“Like hell you will.” He turned and watched as Terry and Andrew led Imperator into the barn, then looked at Jacquie again. “My horse could’ve killed you. The least I can do is give you a drink.”
Still she hesitated. Maybe she thought he was using the invitation as a ploy to get closer to Erin. The truth wasn’t much different, he supposed. “I would like to keep an eye on you for a few minutes to be sure you’re sound enough to drive home. And I have a project I’d like your help with.”
Her eyes widened, and she glanced at Erin, standing between them. “I really don’t think—”
“Come on, Mom.” Erin put her arm around Jacquie and urged her toward the house. “You’d make me sit down if I’d fallen like that. You practically dived into the grass.”
“I thought he was going over backward. I didn’t want to be underneath when he hit the ground.”
Rhys walked on her other side. “I can’t believe I suggested you ride him to begin with. A stupid idea, if there ever was one, and I’m sorry.”
She let him open the door into the house. “Don’t worry about it.” He saw her shoulders lift on a deep breath before she stepped inside. And he saw her wince.
“You are hurt,” he insisted. “We should take you to the E.R.”
“No. Just a little stiff and bruised. Nothing that a hot bath
and a good night’s sleep can’t cure.”
Damn if she hadn’t done it again. Jacquie in the bathtub was a tantalizing thought. They’d shared showers, in that cramped little place she’d rented above the horse barn, but he’d always promised himself the sight of her immersed to her neck in bubbles, and the pleasure of joining her.
Rhys cleared his throat. “Come on into the library.” He led the way this time, stopping to greet Sydney as he crossed the carpet. Her arthritis might be bad, but her nose worked just fine, and she discerned immediately that there were others in the room. One sniff at Jacquie’s hand, and she knew exactly who. Her body wagged from ear tips to tail as she recognized an old friend.
Jacquie sat in the nearest chair and brought Sydney between her knees. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you? An old girl now, huh? You remember me, don’t you? Yeah, we had good times, didn’t we?”
Erin knelt beside them. “You knew this dog when you were in New York, Mom? She must be pretty old.”
“Ancient.” Jacquie chuckled. “It was fourteen—” Rhys heard her sharp breath “—years ago. It’s good to see her.” She took the cola he brought without looking at him. “Thank you,” she said to Sydney’s adoring face.
“You’re welcome.” As he sat in a chair across the room, the tramp of feet in the hallway announced Terry and Andrew coming from the barn. When Terry looked in, Rhys motioned for him to step inside. “I want to talk to all of you.”
Andrew stood just within the door frame. He grimaced when he saw Sydney fawning over Jacquie and Erin, but said nothing.
“The horse seems none the worse for wear,” Terry volunteered. “Plunged into his dinner bucket just like always.”
“Nice to hear. I hope we can say the same for Jacquie when she gets home.” He smiled at her, trying to ease the way for what he was about to say.
Her lips twitched, but if she wanted to smile she hid it well. “I think I’ll manage soup and crackers, at least.”
“Well, then.” Hands flat on his knees, he looked at each one of them in turn. “I have set some fairly big plans into motion, and I wanted to let you know what’s going on.”
All of their faces asked the same question—what did Jacquie and Erin have to do with his plans?
“I want to have an open house and schooling day at Fairfield Farms. I’d like to let the general community know this is a place to look for lessons, and I want other riders and trainers in the area to be aware we’re here. So I’m setting up a combined training event—we’ll have dressage, show jumping and a short cross-country course—and a tour of the barn and house, since I’m told this is considered one of the finest old houses in the area. I’m flying in judges from the Northeast, but I’ll need lots of other volunteers for all the work beforehand.”
He looked at Terry, who nodded, and then at Erin and Andrew. “I’m hoping you two can do a lot of the detail chores—making signs, setting up and taking down, not to mention competing in the events.” Erin nodded enthusiastically. Andrew, as usual, just shrugged.
Then Rhys looked at the woman in the chair. “I’m really hoping for your help, Jacquie. You probably know every owner and trainer in the county by their first name. I want to send out invitations, and you can help me make up the list. We’ll need a farrier on the site, of course, plus EMTs and a vet. I think I can bring off a good show, but I know having your assistance will make a real difference.”
She stared at him with those wide green eyes for a long minute. Finally, wincing, she got to her feet and walked across to set her glass down on the drinks tray.
“Thank you for Erin’s lesson,” she said quietly, directly to Rhys. “And for the chance to ride Imperator. I’ll never forget him.”
He got to his feet to face her. “But…?”
Jacquie lifted her chin. “But there’s no way in—” she glanced at their daughter, standing behind her with a startled expression on her face “—no way in the world I would consider helping you with your ‘project’ or allowing Erin to compete.”
“Good night.” She nodded at Terry and at Andrew. “Come on Erin, let’s get home.”
And just like that, she walked out the door.
CHAPTER SIX
JACQUIE HAD the driver’s door to the truck open and one foot inside when Rhys caught up with her. “I need to talk to you,” he said, his breath a white plume in the cold night air.
She shook her head. “We do not have anything to talk about. Goodbye, Rhys.”
He stood with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his feet planted apart, and stared at her. “If you want me to keep my mouth shut, I suggest you listen to what I have to say now.”
“You’re threatening me?”
Erin came up on the other side of the truck after transferring Mirage from one of the stalls in the barn to the trailer. “Mom?”
“Get in, Erin.” Jacquie tried to do the same, but Rhys clamped his hand on her arm.
“Erin, your mother and I need to talk in the barn a minute. She’ll be back shortly.”
To get him to let go of her, if for no other reason, Jacquie conceded. She tossed Erin the keys. “Start the engine, so you’ll be warm. This won’t take but a couple of minutes.”
Once in the barn, she turned to face him. “Okay, you’ve got two minutes.” She looked at her watch, intending to hold him to exactly that.
“Why won’t you work with me on this show?”
“Because I see what you’re trying to do and I won’t cooperate.”
“And what is that?”
“You’re trying to get Erin over here. You want to have her around so one day it’ll slip out that you’re her father. You’re trying to finesse the promise you made to me that you wouldn’t.”
“Not very honorable of me.”
“Neither was sleeping with me while you were still married.”
His mouth tightened, and he jerked his head back as if she’d slapped him. Jacquie knew it wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t let him win this battle.
“Don’t make it sound like I’m some kind of Lothario. I was in love with you, Jacquie.”
She ignored the hurt of “was.” “Are we finished? I’m not going to let Erin run around over here like it’s her second home. I’m not going to tell her the truth about you, and—”
“What does that say about you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You won’t tell our daughter the truth. What kind of relationship is based on perpetual lies?”
“That’s the end. I’m leaving.” She tried to stalk past him. Again Rhys grabbed her arm. This time, he backed her up against one of the stall doors and held her there with the size and nearness of his body.
“You can’t run away from this, Jacquie. You can’t run away from me.”
For a moment, she forgot why she wanted to run. Within her reach was the power she’d craved all those years ago, the warmth and textures of a body she could still remember, under her palms, against her skin. The diamond-blue gaze speared her, held her motionless but for the pulse pounding in her throat. As she stared up at him, Rhys lowered his head and put his mouth on hers.
After the first shock, her lips softened against his, and warmed. They might have kissed yesterday, or this morning, the feel and the taste were so familiar. They devoured each other, erasing the empty years. His arms locked around her, lifting her against his body, and she grabbed his shoulders to draw him closer still. Rhys groaned and murmured her name.
Jacquie regained her sanity in that instant. She struggled wildly, hitting at his shoulders and twisting until he let go and staggered backward, swearing. Running down the aisle, she thought she heard him say her name, but she didn’t stop, and only slowed down as she approached her side of the truck. Over the sound of her harsh breaths, she could hear Mirage contentedly munching hay.
Erin had fallen asleep waiting, thank God. Blinking back tears, Jacquie drove out through the stone arch of Fairfield Farm, promising herself this would be the last time. Com
ing here was simply too dangerous. For her daughter…
And for herself.
WHEN HIS TEMPER and his desire had cooled, Rhys returned to the house. He found Terry in the kitchen with warm soup and bread set out for their supper.
“The boy ate fast and said precious little.” He reached for the whiskey bottle in the cupboard and poured several fingers into a glass which he handed to Rhys. “I’m guessing you didn’t make much progress with Miss Jacquie.”
“A masterpiece of understatement.” Rhys took a swallow of spirits before sitting down, and another afterward. “What do you think about Imperator?”
Terry took a chair across the table. “This was his first time over fences since November. He’s got a right to be skittish.”
“She says he’s afraid of the jumps.” No need to name names.
“Could be. One ride’s not enough to be sure, though.”
“He needs regular workouts. We’ll give him tomorrow off, then try again Thursday.”
“You won’t put the boy up on him again? He’s not experienced enough to hold that horse together.”
“I know.” Rhys propped his head up with one hand and stirred his soup without any twinge of appetite. “I’ll ride him.”
Terry snorted and got up to take the bowl away. “And what if he rears on you the way he did this afternoon? What if you fall the way she did? Your back’s scarcely healed, as it is.”
With his eyes closed and his stomach churning, Rhys endured a mental replay of Jacquie’s fall. The soft sand in the jumping arena was a lifesaver. Hard ground hurt so much worse…
His vision seemed to waver, shifting until he saw the fall from the perspective of the rider. He knew how time slowed, seemed to crawl, as the jump approached and you realized you weren’t going to make it this time, that you’d chosen the wrong angle, set the horse too fast down the hill. The big logs loomed close, the deep ditch even closer…Imperator took off too flat, they wouldn’t clear…the rustle of brush on front legs and then the hard smack of hooves against wood and Rhys was tumbling, twisting, landing draped across that log like a piece of laundry hung to dry…