Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3)

by Bev Pettersen

  His seductive thumb made every part of her quiver, and her legs felt like noodles. No mistaking his intentions. And she wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not for a man like him. Talking with him, riding with him, even stalking him was far safer.

  She gulped. “What exactly do you have in mind…for Thursday?”

  “You want an itinerary, honey?” But his smile was more gentle than amused. “What I have in mind is a trail ride, dinner and after that we’ll see how things progress. We’re just following Martha’s directions, that you have a little fun. Come on now. Hop in the truck.”

  She hadn’t realized they’d even stopped beside his truck, that he couldn’t open the driver’s door unless she moved. This wasn’t good. Just the stroke of his thumb made her melt. She cocked her head, striving for flippancy. “Maybe it would be a good idea for me to see Shane first. You know, for a little warm-up, just to make sure I’m ready for your…itinerary.”

  “Now that doesn’t seem fair.” He pulled open the door. “I have to stay away from other women. Yet you want to come to my barn and run wild. Hop in.”

  Relief slipped out the corners of her mouth, making her smile. He wasn’t seeing anyone else. She climbed in and slid over to the passenger’s side, too delighted to ask where they were going.

  “I thought we’d eat somewhere else,” he said, when they passed the track kitchen and the mouth-watering smell of fried bacon. “There’s a spot down the road with more privacy. We can talk about Slim.”

  “Right.” She stiffened, forgot about bacon and eggs, yanked back to reality by their ugly suspicions. Martha wanted to keep Slim on staff, and she didn’t want to upset Martha. It was going to be tricky.

  She adjusted her seatbelt. “I checked Ted’s cell number with the housekeeper. It matches the number Slim called when Echo was scratched, even though he claims to have only met Ted two days ago.”

  “How do you know who Slim called?”

  “Borrowed his phone on the drive home and checked the call history.”

  “Very good. So either Slim hates me or hates Martha. But I don’t understand why he’d jeopardize his job. Not with his daughter to support.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “Can you get me a copy of Slim’s file? Malcolm sometimes added motivational clauses. In my case, I earn a bonus for a twenty win percentage with his homebreds. Maybe there’s something like that in Slim’s contract.”

  “Like if a horse loses, he gets a bonus?” She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. It goes against everything Malcolm wanted.”

  “Yeah, it’s probably something else.” Dino kept his gaze on the road as he switched lanes. “Is Ted her sole heir? We both know Martha isn’t well?”

  “Martha’s fine,” she said quickly. “Feeling lots better.”

  He made a soothing sound but it didn’t help.

  “She’s feeling lots better,” she repeated, her fingers tightening around the edge of the seat.

  “I’m sure she is. Just another angle I wanted to check.” He bounced the truck into a potholed lot that fronted a square building. A twenty-four hour breakfast sign flashed orange in the window. “This place is better than it looks,” he said, “and lucky for you, they have a hungry-horsewoman special.”

  Becky knew he was trying to make her smile, but her thoughts churned around Martha. The doctors said there had been some damage from her heart attack but that with prudent care, she could live another twenty years. The shock of Malcolm’s death had been devastating though, and she had to take it easy. Not get upset.

  “Becky?”

  Dino’s concern stoked her panic. “I better go home.” She gripped the metal buckle of her seatbelt. “Martha’s probably anxious to hear how Hunter trained this morning. She might be upset if she doesn’t hear right away. Yes, I better go home now.”

  “This place is fast, twenty minutes max. And it’s important we discuss the Slim situation.” His voice softened. “Maybe you’d like to ask Martha to join us for dinner on Thursday? If she’s up to it.”

  “Okay.” She swallowed, moved by his empathy. “Thanks. That would be great. And hopefully Echo will give her a win on Friday. Martha really needs that.”

  “Yeah. I need the win too.” His jaw tightened and all softness vanished. “There’s a lot riding on that little filly…a helluva lot.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Dino initialed the farrier’s bill, tossed it on the ‘approved’ pile and tilted in his chair, satisfied with his completed paperwork. Relaxed voices drifted down the barn aisle along with a country singer crooning on a distant radio. Everything was quiet, just the way he liked. Horses did their best running when given a calm environment and set schedule.

  Hunter had certainly adapted to track routine. It was more hectic at Lone Star than at Conrad’s, but he’d settled like a pro. And he was safe here. A twenty-four hour guard would prevent another sponging or exhausting hike on a walker. Dino was reluctant to accept Slim was responsible for the sabotage, but someone certainly was.

  He dragged a hand over his jaw, cursing the low-life who’d do something like that to a horse. Best not to stress, though. Hunter was fine now. It was too bad Echo couldn’t also be transferred from Conrad’s, especially with her big race on Friday.

  Unfortunately she didn’t settle in a new barn. Instead she’d pace and sweat and even try to scramble over the door. She was simply too volatile. He and Malcolm had learned to keep her home until the last hour. Other measures would keep her safe. Besides, it was usually easier to soothe a female than force her from her comfort zone.

  Much like Becky. He propped his boots on the scarred desk, brightened by the image of her happy smile. She was more relaxed now—with her job, with life, with him. Difficult to believe she was the awkward and aloof woman who used to mutter in the skybox. Reticent with everyone but Martha.

  His gaze drifted to the wall photos, lingering on the smiling faces. Martha looked very different now and had obviously weakened. Her lack of energy was noticeable, and she bore little resemblance to the imperious woman glowing in the winner’s circle. Of course, the unexpected loss of her husband had definitely cracked her spirit.

  Damn, he hoped she’d rebound. He took a pensive sip of coffee and flipped open the Racing Form. Checked his win percentage—twenty-four, top of the trainers’ list. But throwing out horses like Chippy, and calculating only with Malcolm’s homebreds, it dropped to nineteen, one percent lower than necessary to claim his hundred-grand bonus.

  And the last race of the Lone Star meet was in two weeks, two short weeks where success teetered on the backs of fickle horses. He needed more time, time to win almost every race in those two weeks. Or else win with Echo on Friday and then not race any homebred at Lone Star. That would keep him over twenty percent although it wasn’t quite the route Malcolm had envisioned. Still, hard times justified hard measures, and he had to look out for his own interests.

  He made his decision, squared his shoulders and called his ex-wife. “Laura, there’s been a slight delay, but I’ll have the down payment in three weeks.”

  “I’ve already waited longer than you deserve.” Resentment curdled her voice. “Seems like you don’t really want this ranch. Maybe you should live at the track, seeing as you spend every minute there. No, I’ll only wait one more week.”

  “But I need three!” He injected what he considered an appropriate amount of panic.

  “Two,” she said, and the line went dead.

  Excellent. He smiled at her predictable response and flipped his phone shut. Two weeks more than what he really needed. He’d only race Echo at Lone Star and once she won on Friday, he’d have his cash. Martha could move to her nursing home, and Ted could do whatever he wanted with the estate. Everyone would be happier without the looming uncertainty that clouded the stable…everyone except Becky.

  His mouth flattened. She was blossoming in her new role, dealing with more people and bolstered by the security that came with Martha’s affection. However, the operation couldn’t
continue. She should be okay financially though. When Martha moved to her ritzy nursing home, Becky would find another job.

  There wouldn’t be horses of course, but good nurses were always in demand. She clearly loved her profession. Maybe she’d even find work at a rehab center; that was the area she loved most—lately he tended to remember everything she said.

  At least for now, they both wanted the same thing. Keep Martha happy, no emotional upsets, and make sure the filly won on Friday. He’d tighten security with surveillance cameras and a fulltime watch. If he hung around Conrad’s and watched Echo like a hawk, nothing could go wrong.

  He also intended to stay close to Becky because, contrary to his earlier assumption, she was very much his type of woman.

  “Boss?”

  His smile lingered as he glanced at Shane hovering in the doorway, clipboard in hand. “You still want a massage and chiro for Hunter?”

  “Yeah,” Dino said, “as soon as possible.”

  “Okay. By the way—” Shane edged closer. “If you need me to haul any horses from Conrad’s, I’d be glad to help. I could even go down and oversee the gallops.”

  “Feel like getting away for a day?”

  Shane nodded and adjusted his hat, a sure sign he was uncomfortable.

  “Got a horse leaving the vet clinic this Friday,” Dino said, careful to keep a straight face. “Want to go north and pick him up?”

  “North?” Shane’s smile faded and he dipped his head, suddenly very interested in his clipboard. “Well, I dunno. Looking at this list, I see we got some races coming up. Maybe it is better if I stick around here.”

  Dino’s chair creaked as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “You do remember the rule about not going out with employees?”

  Shane raised his palms. “Of course. And I haven’t touched any of our girls. Not even SueAnne.”

  “I’m adding employers to that rule.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Shane thrust out his jaw. “You’re my only employer and I sure as hell don’t want to date you.”

  “I saw your car at Debbie’s this morning,” Dino said mildly. “Probably best to finish up with one woman before starting with another.” He remembered being given the same warning by Mark when he’d gone a little wild in New York. Remembered his similar resentment. But Shane was young and hadn’t yet learned women were like horses. Sure, you admired a good filly and wanted her in your barn, but you damn well didn’t put two fillies in the same stall.

  “Debbie doesn’t care.”

  But Becky would. Dino’s voice hardened. “Leave Becky alone. The downside of dating employers is too big.”

  However, Shane’s scowl only deepened. “Conrad’s is your employer, not mine, so this doesn’t seem fair.”

  Thump! Dino’s boots slammed to the floor. “Life isn’t fair. And I make the rules. Follow them.”

  A muscle in Shane’s jaw twitched and for a brittle moment he held Dino’s stare. Finally his shoulders sagged. “Sure, boss,” he muttered as he backed into the aisle. “I’ll go book that chiro now.”

  Dino sighed, relieved he’d snuffed that out. Shane wasn’t a mean kid but he was a bit of a hound dog. Becky craved security; she didn’t need a playboy and the least he could do was look out for her. His own intentions were honest—she knew he wasn’t interested in long term. Yet Shane came across as a bashful, ‘aw shucks’ type of cowboy, and those kind of guys were tricky. Martha wanted her nurse to have a little fun, not have her heart broken.

  It was also important to keep things cool at Conrad’s. No excitement, no emotional upsets, keep both ladies happy. He sighed with approval. Yes, it was obvious he was the best man for Becky.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Think I’ll have a little nap while you ride.” Martha pushed aside her untouched bowl of strawberries. “And you haven’t told me anything about Hunter. Has he settled well?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Becky stopped, swallowing her words. She’d already updated Martha twice yesterday—once when she returned from Lone Star and then again in the evening, but Martha was too listless to remember. “He’s doing great,” Becky said. “Eating well. Comfortable galloping over the track. Strange but he’s more laid back at Lone Star. Didn’t even nip yesterday.”

  “Does Dino have him in a stall next to that big chestnut, Rocky? Horse with the Roman nose?”

  Becky nodded, picturing the big red horse. Shane said he was a six-year-old who ran in low-level claimers, but his real value was in settling the colts. Rocky had stared over Becky’s head as though she were beneath his notice, and she hadn’t dared approach him. The horse didn’t look like he wanted new friends.

  “Tell me about Rocky?” Becky asked, reaching for any subject that might interest Martha. “How does he settle the colts?”

  “It’s a boy thing. Rocky’s an older, tougher stallion. Hunter’s not ready to challenge him for mares, attention or even food. Often that translates into a more tractable racehorse. Makes them quieter so they can save energy and focus on running.” A sparkle animated her face, reminding Becky of how she’d looked when Malcolm was alive. “Surely you’ve noticed that sort of thing, dear,” Martha added with a knowing smile. “Young men try to impress a pretty girl but when a truly dynamic man walks into the room, they turn meek and back off.” Her voice turned wistful. “Malcolm had that effect, even before he made his fortune.”

  Becky nodded, picturing Dino when he entered the skybox, the men shrinking, the women fluttering. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said.

  ***

  Becky eased the car past the training track. Stephanie was still riding, spraying dirt as she galloped a bay horse along the inner rail. Clearly there would be plenty of time to groom Lyric and still be ready for their trail ride.

  She parked by Stephanie’s bright compact car. Slim slouched by the barn door. Becky squared her shoulders before walking toward him, determined not to let his animosity sour the morning.

  “Lyric’s in her stall.” He studied his clipboard, not looking at her. “I hear you and Stephanie are going for a ride.”

  “Yes. Dino said it was okay to leave the ring if someone was with me.”

  “Be careful,” he said. “That mare isn’t always obliging, and the old lady would be a mite upset if you got hurt.”

  “I’ll be careful, thanks.” The tightness in her chest eased a notch. Slim didn’t seem to hold a grudge. He wouldn’t meet her eyes but at least he was talking, even worrying about her safety.

  She continued down the aisle. Lyric poked her head over the stall door, nickering a greeting and lifting her spirits higher. A barn, a horse, a sunny Texas morning. Life was perfect.

  She entered the stall, grooming kit in hand, and pulled a peppermint from her back pocket. Despite the controversy surrounding Slim, he had provided several useful tips. Peppermints were easier to feed, especially when you were riding and didn’t have room for apples or carrots.

  She buckled Lyric’s halter and slipped the lead through the ring in the wall. The mare instantly flattened her ears, reminding Becky of her own helpless feeling when she’d been wrangled into the esthetic chair. Maybe the horse would be more cooperative if she wasn’t tied. Maybe she’d be so happy, she wouldn’t kick.

  Becky unsnapped the lead. The mare didn’t sidle away. In fact, she even tilted her head, encouraging Becky to brush between her ears.

  “Okay, girl,” she murmured, spending extra time on the horse’s itchy spots. So far, so good. Lyric usually pinned her ears and fidgeted, but now she was nothing but a sweetheart. Becky scooped up a hoof pick and picked the debris out of her front feet, eying Lyric’s back legs with healthy respect.

  The mare always tried to jerk away from Slim and Dino and gave a nasty kick if touched on the flank. Plus she was loose, so she’d be able to put her head down, turn and slam with both feet and really do damage.

  Just imagining that kind of kick made Becky’s body ache—she’d be a fool to risk it.
She leaned over the stall guard and checked the aisle for Slim. A stable hand rushed past with a wheelbarrow but didn’t slow, obviously hurrying to finish his chores. Lyric tracked his progress with curious eyes but still didn’t move.

  Becky tugged at her lower lip. So far, the mare hadn’t done anything wrong, and Lyric did seem to like her. Maybe she should give her a chance. She took a deep breath, ran a hand along Lyric’s back and down her left hind.

  “Up,” she said, trying to sound like the request was perfectly reasonable.

  Lyric obligingly lifted her leg.

  Becky was so shocked she dropped the hoof pick in the straw. After a moment of fumbling, she cleaned the hoof and placed Lyric’s foot back down.

  Wow. That was easy.

  Hiding her shock, she rounded the mare and asked her to lift the right hind. Lyric lifted it, docile as any lesson pony. And then they were finished.

  Becky tossed the hoof pick back into the grooming kit and gratefully patted the mare’s neck. “You’re not really a bitch at all,” she whispered.

  She grabbed her English saddle and pad, hoping to be tacked up by the time Stephanie finished galloping. A sweaty horse clopped down the aisle, led by a groom, and followed by a bouncing Stephanie.

  “Hey, girl!” Stephanie paused. “Love your sexy haircut. I’ll just throw my saddle on Hank and join you outside. One minute.”

  And it would only be one minute. It was incomprehensible how Dino and Stephanie tacked up so quickly. It took her at least triple the time. But she wanted to be on Lyric’s back before Stephanie came out with Hank. Didn’t want her new riding buddy to see her awkward mount using baler twine.

  Stephanie followed her rueful glance and pulled a red jackknife from her pocket. “You won’t need that baler twine anymore. Let me cut it off. Dino arranged for a fancy mounting block.”