“She would love to,” was Jacquie’s weak return. Rhys stood beside Erin, giving last-minute instructions on the cross-country course. The likeness between them was clear to her, and she groaned silently. This had been a mistake from the very beginning.
The volunteer starter at the cross-country course was Dixon Bell. He was, of course, too busy to talk, but Kate came over to stand with Jacquie. They hugged and then turned to watch as Erin and Mirage entered the starting gate.
Two women Jacquie didn’t know walked up beside them, programs for the show in hand. “That’s the Lewellyn boy, right?” one said. “But that gray horse is not Imperator. Maybe the boy’s riding two different horses.”
“Maybe…” The companion consulted her program. “No, wait. Says here that Erin Archer is number one-oh-three, riding Mirage. So that’s not Andrew Lewellyn.”
“Sure looks like him.”
“Everybody looks the same in all that gear.”
“I suppose so.”
Jacquie closed her eyes and gave thanks for the reprieve.
With her bum foot, she couldn’t run along to see Erin at every jump on the mile-long course, so she simply had to wait, more than a little anxious, to get a report at the end. Her parents had walked farther along the course to watch some of the interior jumps, but Kate waited with Jacquie, talking about people they knew in town, which helped calm her nerves. Finally Mirage galloped up the hill and took the last jump—a zigzag fence with bushes before and behind—in perfect form.
At the finish line, Erin hopped down and pulled off her helmet. Again her face glowed with happiness. “What a great ride! He was so awesome, Mom. The best he’s ever been.” She put her arms around the horse’s neck and gave him a hug.
Rhys joined them. “Excellent run, Erin. I’m proud of you.” And he was—his eyes were warm, almost tender. Then he looked at Kate. “It’s good to see you again. Are you enjoying the day?”
“It’s wonderful, of course. I’m only sorry we couldn’t come to the party last night. We had a family birthday to celebrate. My husband’s grandmother turned eighty-five yesterday.”
“Definitely the better celebration,” Rhys agreed, grinning. He turned to Erin. “So, scamp, all you’ve got left is the show jumping. I’m sure you’ll run through with no problems.”
“I hope so.” Erin, ever impulsive, threw her arms around Rhys’s neck and hugged him just as she’d hugged the horse. “Oh, Mr. Lewellyn, thank you so much. This has just been the best day of my life!”
After a frozen moment, Rhys put his hands gently on Erin’s back. His eyes closed, and then he turned his head away. “Thank you, sweetheart. Working with you has been…great for me, too.”
Blinking back the sting of tears, Jacquie looked toward Kate, only to find her friend staring at man and girl with an arrested expression on her face.
“Damn,” Jacquie muttered under her breath. “Damn him.” The pair separated, but the damage was done.
“And damn me.”
ERIN’S SHOW JUMPING went well, though she came in second behind Andrew on Ricochet. But Ricochet’s cross-country time wasn’t as good as Mirage’s, so their dressage scores would determine the winner. Andrew finished his dressage round on Ricochet, then rushed to prepare for Imp’s cross-country run, the final event of the day before the awards were announced.
The entire crowd lined the course, wanting to see the big horse run. Rhys had no idea how the next fifteen minutes would turn out. Imperator could sail across the easy fences and impress them all. Or he could balk at every single jump and give birth to the speculation that his career had ended.
“Do what you can,” he told Andrew as he checked the girth and the stirrup leathers one last time. “Don’t drive him hard, give him time to see the jump before he gets there. Be sure to take the easiest line.”
Andrew tightened his helmet strap. “I’ve got it, Dad. You said all this ten minutes ago.”
“I’ll wait for you at the finish.” He looked up into his son’s face and saw the likeness to Erin. “Good luck, son.”
The boy’s grin was just like his own. “Thanks. This has been one incredible day.”
He trotted Imperator to the starting block and backed in, as required. Rhys watched the horse, saw by the prick of his ears that Imp recognized what was coming. His attitude changed, right at that moment, taking on an edge of nerves quite unlike his confidence earlier in the day. Eyes wide, tail flicking, the stallion waited for his cue. Andrew pressed his heels against the horse’s sides, and Imperator exploded onto the course.
The first jump was in clear view. Andrew followed Rhys’s directions, approaching the triangular pile of logs at a slow canter. Rhys held his breath. Imp shook his head from side to side as they got near, and would have pulled Andrew from the saddle if the boy hadn’t had such an excellent seat. At the last second, Imp decided to do what he was asked. He took the jump, awkwardly but cleanly.
Polite applause rose from the crowd. “I looked for more finesse,” a man beside Rhys commented. “Maybe it’s the rider. Lewellyn’s son, I think. Could be he doesn’t have his father’s talent.” Rhys clenched his hands into fists but refrained from punching the guy out.
The second jump, a lattice structure painted in red and black with stop signs on either side, was visible in the distance. A groan went up as Imperator refused the fence. Andrew circled, brought him back. If he refused again, the ride would be over. But Imperator, great performer that he was, made a supreme effort and got himself and Andrew over the lattice. They vanished into a stand of trees, leaving Rhys to follow the course in his mind, with periodic reports from each fence on the two-way radio. He stared at his watch, calculating where the pair should be at any given moment. As the sweep hand ticked off seconds, Jacquie came up beside him.
“He should finish soon, right?”
“Thirty more seconds would be a winning time.”
But the thirty seconds passed without a reappearance of Imperator and Andrew.
Rhys gave up on the watch. “Something’s happened.”
Jacquie put a warm hand on his arm. “Imperator probably refused and Andrew’s struggling to get him over.”
“Probably.” His worry escalated with every extra second.
He took the radio off his belt. “This is Lewellyn,” he said into the speaker. “Somebody tell me what’s going on.”
“Fence six,” a voice came back. “Imperator refused and the boy is still trying to get him over.”
“Tell Andrew to bring the horse in,” Rhys ordered. “We’ll calculate the scores and award the ribbons.”
He turned to Jacquie. “Well, so much for a month of training rides. Imperator still won’t take the fences.
“I’ve got a million-dollar horse that can’t—won’t—perform. What do I do now?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ANDREW WALKED Imperator all the way back to the barn, avoiding the crowd by taking the path through the woods. By the time he reached the stable, everyone had gathered around the jumping arena for the awards ceremony.
The announcement came through loud and clear, even inside the stall. “The blue ribbon for first place in the Fairfield Schooling Day Preliminary Class goes to…Miss Erin Archer and Mirage!”
There was no missing the pleasure in his dad’s voice. He really liked seeing the girl win. And what would the great Lewellyn have to say about Imperator’s refusals? None of the ribbons Andrew had won over the years—and there were a lot of them—compensated for his failure with Imp.
With the saddle and bridle put away, the horse brushed, watered and fed, Andrew slipped out of the barn and into the house. In the hallway, he nearly ran into a woman who stood by the door to the gathering room.”
“Sorry,” he murmured, going past.
“I was just touring the rooms,” she said. “That’s all.”
“Sure. No problem.” He started again for the stairs.
She came after him. “You’re Andrew, aren’t you? Mr. Lew
ellyn’s son?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m Mrs. Lennon. Erin Archer’s grandmother.”
“Hi.” He could see that Mrs. Archer did look like her mother. Not Erin, of course.
“You rode that big horse really well today.” Her eyes hadn’t left his face. He felt like an insect being studied under the microscope.
“Uh, thanks.”
“I’m sorry he wouldn’t take the fence for you. That must be so disappointing.”
The gentleness in her voice, the kindness in her soft face, put a lump in his throat. “Yes, ma’am.” His grandmothers were both a very different type of person.
“Well, I’d best get back to my family.” She touched his arm for just a second. “It’s nice to meet you, Andrew.”
He couldn’t find his voice, but he lifted a hand to say goodbye. The hallway seemed darker, somehow, after Mrs. Lennon went outside.
ERIN’S WIN WAS duly celebrated with champagne for all the volunteers, once the horses were stabled and the crowds dispersed. Cathy Parr had taken fourth place in one of the lower level classes. Both girls were nearly incoherent with pride and excitement.
“This was a really successful event,” Rhys told them all, raising his glass in a toast. “I can’t thank each of you enough for your efforts. You’ll always have a welcome at Fairfield Farm, whenever you come by.”
As darkness fell, the volunteers, too, went home. Leaning on her borrowed cane, Jacquie said goodbye to Phoebe and Dixon and Kate at the door. “I do appreciate y’all coming out.”
“We wouldn’t have missed seeing Erin win her ribbon,” Dixon said. “And now Kate knows exactly what she’s aiming for.” He hugged his blushing wife around the waist. “I’m kinda tempted, myself. Those cross-country jumps are spectacular to watch!”
Last to leave was Buck Travis. “What a great day.” He took her free hand in both his own. “I’m really proud of Erin—and of you, as her trainer. You’re doing a great job.”
“Well, you know we were glad to have you here.”
“My pleasure.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Do you need a ride home, with that foot?”
“It’s my left. I’m fine for driving.”
“Okay, then.” He dropped her hand and turned away, hesitated, and looked at her again. “Would you like to have dinner sometime? Soon?”
Jacquie opened her mouth, though she had no idea what her answer would be. Footsteps approached from the hall behind her, and she looked over her shoulder into Rhys’s stiff face.
“Thank you for your help,” he said to Buck, extending an arm to shake the vet’s hand. “I’m glad we had nothing much for you to do.”
“Me, too.” Buck looked from Jacquie’s face to Rhys’s and back again. “I’ll see the two of you around, I’m sure. Good night.” This time he walked away without looking back, and Jacquie understood that she’d lost her last chance with a good man.
Maybe Galen would be smarter, fare better.
Rhys shut the door with a snap. “You shouldn’t be standing—come in and sit down.”
“No. Erin and I are going home.” Hardly a gracious answer, but she couldn’t manage anything better.
He stood still for a moment. “If that’s what you want. I hope you know how grateful I am for everything the two of you have done.”
She couldn’t think of the right answer for that, either. “I’m glad the show went well. I’m sure you’ll get a lot of good publicity. I noticed several reporters wandering around.”
“Yes, and what they’ll report is Imperator’s loss of confidence. There will be some interesting fallout, I’m sure.”
“At least you know Andrew can keep him under control. You won’t need me to ride him now.”
“I suppose not,” Rhys said slowly.
Jacquie swallowed hard, then nodded. “Well, then. I’ll say goodbye.”
“Good…bye.” He appeared to be struggling with the meaning of the word. Finally he lifted his hand and brushed his fingers lightly over her cheek, from temple to chin. “Right. Goodbye.”
He opened the door again and stepped outside so she could pass easily. Erin had finished loading Mirage in the trailer and was waiting by the truck.
Jacquie limped away without looking back. She stumbled into the driver’s seat, started the engine and pulled forward into the night.
There should be music playing, she thought, or at least a voice-over, with some wise words to say about the end of an interlude. But the silence seemed to speak for itself, and she didn’t spoil it.
Halfway home, Erin sat up with a gasp. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, no, what?”
“I left my ribbon! I hung it outside Mirage’s stall—there were so many people walking through and I wanted them to know he was the winner. And I forgot to pull it off before we left.”
“You can call and ask Andrew to bring it to school for you Monday.”
“If he doesn’t rip it to shreds, first.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“We’ll drive by on the way home from church tomorrow. You can get the ribbon then.”
Afterward, she would put the memories of these weeks into the hole she’d made once before in her mental basement, then brick up the opening so tight she couldn’t remember more than the delight of Erin’s win. And that would be the end of her relationship with Rhys Lewellyn.
Again.
THE PHONE RANG Sunday morning before Rhys had done more than squint at the rain outside his window and groan. After finding Andrew asleep in his room, he’d slept at last, himself, for the first time in three days. Waking up really hadn’t been on his to-do list for this morning. At least not until after 7:00 a.m.
Terry’s knock sounded on the door. “It’s your dad.”
Rhys groaned again. “Thanks.” This would not be a good start for his day. He swung his legs off the bed, rubbed his face, then picked up the phone. “’Morning, Dad.”
“’Morning, my ass.” Owen Lewellyn had always been a plainspoken man. “What’s this I hear?”
“I have no idea what you’ve heard. How’s Mom?”
“Well, as always. But from what I’m told, Imperator is practically on his last legs.”
“Someone doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Imperator is healthy and strong.”
“And refusing.”
“I…see. You got a report on the schooling event yesterday.”
“I heard our horse wouldn’t perform, yes. And Andrew lost on Ricochet to an unknown of questionable breeding. A girl, for God’s sake. How could our horse be beaten by a girl?”
“Horses are an equal opportunity sport, you’ll remember. Women and men compete together.” And the girl was my daughter. That makes her as good as any boy, including my son.
His dad had a foul word for that idea. “What’s the problem with Imperator?”
“He’s lost some confidence over the cross-country fences. We’re getting him back in shape.”
“You’re saying he’s afraid?” Another curse. “The two of you are a pair, I’ll give you that.”
“As I told you, we’re working with him. He’ll be back to his old self in short order.”
“Well, he’d better be. Sheikh Al Fahed has made me an extremely handsome offer for Imperator. One-point-five million, he’s willing to pay. The horse will be worth more, of course, in stud fees. If he’s a winner. You tell me you can’t get the beast back into shape and winning again, I’ll sell him and get my money out of him that way.”
Rhys sucked in a harsh breath. “You can’t sell the horse.”
“Yes, I can. Imperator is stable property, and I am the majority shareholder. So either the stallion succeeds, or he’s gone. I expect you to enter the Top Flight trials, and I expect you to win.” He disconnected without another word.
Drawing his arm back, Rhys started to throw the cordless phone against the wall. But at the last moment he simply fell back on the
bed, instead, and let the phone drop to the floor.
There were only two ways to enter Imperator in the Top Flight Horse Trials. Since he’d been to the Olympics, Imp was only allowed to compete, for the record, at the very highest level. That meant using a rider who could take him over the most difficult advanced fences. Not Andrew, nor Erin, nor even Jacquie possessed that kind of experience. Rhys would either have to hire a rider…
Or ride, himself.
He was still mulling over the issue as he sat in the barn office after lunch, staring at the entry form for the Top Flight event. Hiring a rider would be admitting defeat. Letting go of Imp was simply inconceivable. If there was another answer to the problem, he couldn’t see it.
“Your old man stuck it to you, didn’t he?” Terry stood in the doorway, a cleaning cloth in one hand and Imperator’s bridle in the other. “What’re you gonna do?”
Rhys flipped the registration form across the desk. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Terry shook his head. “I know what’s best, but I’ve no way of making it happen.”
“And just what is best?”
“You, riding the horse in the trials. You’ve got a month to work out the kinks. The weather’s warming up, we can train every day.”
“It’s already warm in Florida. We wouldn’t have to chance the weather.”
“What’s Florida got to do with this?”
“I was thinking of moving on down there. The Baileys’ place is still for lease—I called them this morning. We could be there in a week.”
“Why would you be thinking about moving to Florida? We’ve got everything we need right here.”
He hadn’t come up with an explanation that would satisfy Terry, let alone Andrew, without exposing Jacquie. “I’m not comfortable here, is all.”
“What you mean is, you can’t work things out with Miss Jacquie, you’re miserable about it, and you want to move on instead of solving the problem.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, let me tell you, boyo, you’ve got a wrong-headed notion if ever there was one.” Terry looked up from the bridle and caught Rhys’s eye. “I left a family once, a woman and a little girl. Thought I could do without, or maybe I’d make it big and go back rich to take care of them. I don’t remember anymore just what my reasons were. I did go back, eventually, only to find they’d vanished. I searched high and low—as you did—but there was no finding them. I could have grandchildren today, and what do I know? Nothing. Nothing at all.”
The Fake Husband Page 17
