Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash

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Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash Page 25

by Bev Pettersen


  “Smart,” she said. “Leave your options open. Have to hand it to you, Burke. You really know how to make people feel special.” Her voice flattened. “My father did that once. Gave my mom a bracelet with someone else’s name on it. Of course, he’d stolen it. You didn’t steal this, right?” She forced a smile but her lips quivered, tiny trembles that tore at his chest.

  He plucked the box from her hand. “I’ll sort this out.”

  “No problem. It’s the thought that counts.” Her voice quavered and he reached toward her, but she pushed his arm away. “Let’s get going. You have a manager waiting.”

  “Jenna, please.” His chest was so tight, it was hard to breathe. “Theresa is an old friend, a past friend. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “No one ever does,” she said.

  ***

  Jenna trailed her hands over Nifty’s back and hindquarters, feeling for any soreness, watching his reaction. His ears flicked but he remained remarkably quiet, showing no pain, nothing that would account for his problems in the breeding shed.

  If in fact, he really did have a problem.

  Tank didn’t think Nifty had any physical difficulties, and no one knew a horse better than his groom. Of course if the stud’s sperm count were low, that would be an entirely different problem. He could physically do the deed, just couldn’t accomplish the desired result. It would be disastrous for the Ridgemans to lose Nifty’s services.

  She tried to remember exactly what David had said, but her mind kept sneaking to Burke. Damn him. She’d let him worm his way into her heart, a place she always kept tightly sealed, and wham.

  Without warning, the door swung open and Nifty spooked, knocking her sideways. She straightened, trying to soothe him.

  “Please knock when you enter,” she said over her shoulder.

  “I forgot,” Burke said, his voice deep, impersonal and not a bit apologetic. “Jenna, this is Barb Schmidt. Barb, this is Jenna Murphy, our talented masseuse. Jenna has a therapeutic massage diploma as well as an equine certificate.”

  Jenna nodded a greeting, not looking at Burke, trying to ignore her gut wrenching guilt at the lies he’d repeated. It was much easier to concentrate on the new manager and her beautifully cut suit, her perfect hair, her gleaming white teeth.

  “Excellent.” Those teeth flashed again as the new manager smiled up at Burke. “Proper credentials are another aspect of the Center that I’m extremely enthused about. Derek, I’m thrilled the staff are all qualified, at least to acceptable standards. Are you working on your degree part-time, Jenna?”

  Jenna’s fingers pressed a little harder into Nifty’s hindquarters, and he swished his tail in warning. “Not right now,” she said.

  “Well, I understand there’s a college very close. And increasing staff qualifications will strengthen the magnificent job Derek has started here.” Barb beamed another ingratiating smile at the man by her side. “I’m thrilled to be part of Burke Industries.”

  “It does have its perks,” Jenna muttered, ignoring Burke’s sharp glance.

  “So this area is dedicated to massage but restricted to two horses a day.” Barb frowned as though confused. “Two massages will leave you with a lot of extra time. But we’ll pull together. Jenna. Find enough work to keep all the team busy, even if it means mucking out stalls.”

  Nifty’s tail swished again and Jenna pulled her hands back, forcing her fingers to lighten. But she resented Wally’s replacement: this woman with her fawning smile, her irritating eagerness and most of all her troublesome college reference.

  She wished the Canadians hadn’t sold, wished everything had stayed the same, wished Wally was still the manager. She shot a look at Burke, but he wore a bored expression even though Barb was literally hopping on her heels trying to capture his attention.

  “A good scrubbing, that’s what this room needs.” Barb continued her prattle, glancing around the room. “And what do you think of a coat of paint, Derek? Something to brighten the place, maybe varying shades of red. I see what you mean about how the last manager let things slide.”

  Jenna clamped her mouth shut, but somehow the words leaked out. “Wally was a good manager,” she said. “The horses always left with a bounce in their step, and he was brilliant at analyzing their problems. Compassionate too. Never turned anyone away. He also knew horses have trouble seeing certain colors, such as red.”

  Oh, no. What am I doing? She sucked in a breath, her hands freezing over Nifty’s back. And she wished for a long stick to pull back the color comment. “Of course, it’s difficult to know what colors they really distinguish,” she added, forcing an agreeable nod. “Actually red is a brilliant idea, Barb.” But now she only sounded sarcastic, even though she hadn’t intended to knock Barb. Not really. Well, maybe a little.

  Barb’s smile pinched and she crossed her arms, glancing at Burke as though searching for direction.

  “I’m sure Jenna and all the staff here will support you in whatever decisions you make,” Burke said. “We’ll visit the oxygen room now. It’s one of the Center’s more effective applications.”

  Ouch. Jenna winced and dropped her forehead against Nifty’s rump, drawing comfort from his solid bulk. His tail swished and she quickly stepped away, because, although the stallion was being extremely cooperative, he was still a stud and she didn’t want to push his tolerance. He could kick her chest in as effortlessly as Burke.

  She led Nifty back to his lonely stall, guilty at his disappointed expression. “I’ll bring you some company tonight, fellow,” she promised, slipping him a peppermint. “The friendliest pony in the world.”

  She trudged down the hall and paused at the reception desk. “So, did you meet the new manager? What do you think?”

  “I dunno.” Frances moved a stack of papers to the side of the desk, concealing her crossword puzzle. “But there will never be anyone like Wally.”

  “I’ve been calling and he never answers. Have you seen him lately?”

  “No. Not his truck either. I’m surprised he quit,” Frances said. “Three Brooks was all he cared about. Wish things had stayed the same. Horses like Nifty create too much work. I had to order special feed and the phone hasn’t stopped ringing. An insurance company even wants to come next week and run some tests. Do you think the new manager will make me give tours?”

  Jenna shrugged, her gaze shooting to the door of the oxygen chamber. Burke and Barb might emerge soon. Probably best if Barb didn’t catch them gabbing. Their new boss was already forming opinions, and on Monday she’d be the head honcho. Peanut’s access to the solar panels would be severely restricted.

  “I’m going to check Wally’s apartment and then walk home,” Jenna said absently. “Better put your crossword puzzles away for a while. See you Monday.”

  She pushed through the swinging doors and rapped on the door to Wally’s apartment. Tried the knob but the door was locked. Stepped outside and checked the corner of the statue—the key to the Center’s outer door glinted back at her. You’re the best, Wally, she thought. She’d bring Peanut up tonight for one last visit.

  She pivoted and crossed the new cobblestones. It was different walking across the uneven surface but the changes made a huge impact. Flowers brightened the drive, the shrubs were perfect and Three Brooks looked like a facility that really did cater to expensive horses.

  Movement flashed. She glanced up, certain a curtain had moved in Wally’s apartment. She pulled out her cell phone and pressed his number, but only heard a recording. “I know you’re in there, buddy,” she said. “Thanks for leaving the key. Peanut and I will be up tonight.”

  She paused, uncomfortable. Wally had always been the guy to dole out favors, and she understood pride. “And,” her words came in a rush, “I know you have the apartment for another four months but if you need a place to stay after that, or if you want to move out now, I’d love to have you.”

  She shoved the phone in her pocket and followed the wooded path to her trailer. If
she weren’t always rushing in the morning, she’d walk to work. She loved the smells, the air, the land. Loved helping animals.

  Didn’t want to move.

  She scooped up a rock and drove it at an oak tree, then a second and a third, throwing harder until the rocks hit with a satisfying thwack. Her job was secure. Had to be. Barb had no reason to check her qualifications, no reason to wonder why she wasn’t working toward her degree. Everything was fine.

  But she was tense when she reached the trailer. Her phone chirped. She checked the display, Burke. Her heart raced even faster, and she answered slowly.

  “Meet me in the parking lot,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll drive you home and later we can take Barb for dinner.”

  “I already walked home. And thanks for the invite tonight but I’m busy.”

  “Jenna,” his voice deepened with impatience, “it would be good for your job security if you accompany us tonight.”

  Her hand tightened around the phone. “You think the only reason Barb would keep me is because of your influence?”

  “She might feel more favorably toward you, especially after your disrespect today. However, I don’t interfere with decisions at such a low level.”

  Low level. He had such a way with words. She climbed up her porch steps and sank into the swing. “I didn’t intend to be disrespectful,” she said quietly. “But she should know horses have a limited color range. It’s hard not to speak out if she’s wrong about something.”

  “Barb’s a good manager. Edward highly recommends her. She’ll keep the Center in the black, but her type expects a certain amount of deference.” Papers shuffled in the background. “I’ll pick you up at seven. We have reservations at the Club.”

  The thought of enduring another long night at the Hunt Club, nodding brightly while Barb prattled to Burke, was nauseating. Besides, Peanut needed a trip to the Center—before Barb locked the doors—and Jenna wasn’t going to let a man derail anymore of her plans. She knew better.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m busy tonight. But your warning is appreciated. As a low-level employee, I’ll try to be more respectful. Maybe your friend, Theresa, can accompany you.”

  She cut the connection and called Emily. She hadn’t given her sister much support over the last few weeks, too enamored with Burke to worry about the really important people in her life. She shook her head in disgust.

  “Hi, sis.” Em sounded subdued, devoid of her usual bravado. “Can your green machine handle another trip out here?”

  “Of course,” Jenna said. “She’s a little loud but running great. Want me to come visit?” Just the thing to help her forget about Burke. “It’ll have to be a weekend though. We have a new manager and my vacation is used up.”

  Em’s breathing sounded ragged. Finally she spoke. “Don’t yell, sis, but I’m moving home. I don’t want to hang out here anymore. I’m failing most of my courses anyway.”

  Jenna’s knees buckled and she dropped onto the swing. “Do you get any money back when you fail?” she squeaked.

  “No, but it was a good learning experience.” Emily’s voice quickened. “It wasn’t a waste. Not a bit.”

  Jenna’s left temple throbbed. Not a waste? She’d sacrificed so much, gone to such lengths. Now she was stuck with a heap of lies, a fake diploma and increasingly shaky employment. Her head pounded so hard, it hurt.

  “Come on,” Em said. “You don’t know what it’s like. You’re the one that wants a degree. You pushed this on me.”

  “I’d love for someone to push that opportunity on me.”

  “Well, you go to college then,” Emily snapped. “But I’m finished here. Let me know when you’re coming.”

  A dial tone buzzed. Jenna clung to the phone for another anguished moment, but Emily was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I don’t think Barb has the right management style for the position here.” Burke turned up the speaker phone and resumed stacking files on the dining room table. “She seems somewhat inflexible.”

  “You’re calling someone that?” Edward chuckled. “Besides, we owe her family a favor. And let’s not forget they have important contacts in Virginia. The final decision is up to you, of course, but last week you were eager to move on.”

  “You’re right,” Burke muttered, scanning the pile of files. He’d put most of them through the paper shredder. No need to drag them on a plane. “One other thing,” he said. “Have you heard any rumors about the Ridgeman stud and his potency? Specifically how many mares had live foals this year? Staff here think he’s healthy—that there’re no physical reasons why he can’t cover a mare. Frankly, we can’t understand why they sent him.”

  “Don’t know anything about that. Maybe he doesn’t have the energy to nail two mares a day?” Edward snickered. “What a life. Wish I were a horse.”

  Burke stared through the patio window at the pool shimmering beneath the setting sun, blocking Edward’s rant about the deplorable lack of pussy. He wished Jenna were lounging here now, naked or clothed, but at least here. Without her, dinner at the Club would be yawningly boring. He was tempted to cancel. And what the hell was so important that she didn’t want to spend their last night together?

  She’d written him off.

  The realization drained him and he dropped the files on the table, knowing he was going to let her. When you love someone, you tried to give them everything they wanted—and she wanted him gone.

  A kernel of resentment tightened in his gut. He switched his attention back to Edward, nodding agreement with every single complaint his cousin uttered about women.

  ***

  Jenna jerked around at the quiet knock on her door. Seven o’clock and she half expected Burke to stop on the way to town, to plead for her company tonight.

  Plead? She gave her head a shake. Who was she kidding? Burke wouldn’t plead. And he wouldn’t knock quietly. She walked to the door, straining to identify the dark shape through her meshed screen.

  Wally! She pushed open the door, horrified by his unkempt shirt, the sour smell of liquor, his defeated expression.

  “Sit on the swing,” she said quickly. “I’ll make some coffee.”

  “Rum would be better.” Wally burped. “Ran out of liquor. Only a few beer left.”

  “Oh, Wally.” She sat down beside him, scanning the driveway but it was empty of everything but her little Neon. “How did you get here?”

  “Walked. Asshole took my company truck. Can’t even get to the liquor store.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his expression pained. “Been sitting in the apartment for a few days now. Fifty years old and I only know horses. What the hell will I do?”

  “Why did you quit? I thought your plan was to hold out for severance.”

  “Yeah, well,” Wally’s eyes shifted to the left. “Plans change.” He jerked to his feet as Burke’s car rose over the ridge. “Aw, damn. He sees me.”

  “It’s all right. You no longer work for Three Books. What can he do?” She gave Wally’s knee a reassuring pat and urged him back down on the swing. Drunks always had odd reactions. “He’s just stopping for a second, probably to see if I changed my mind about dinner.”

  She walked down the steps to his car, her mouth going dry at the sight of Burke, unbearably handsome in a crisp white shirt and dark dinner jacket.

  “What’s he doing here?” Burke gestured disdainfully at Wally.

  She stiffened. “Visiting. He’s my friend. And now that he’s stripped of the company truck, I’m the only house within walking range.”

  “He should have thought of that before he misused company assets.” Burke’s scowl deepened. “I won’t tolerate dishonesty.”

  She opened her mouth to explain that Wally had only been trying to help the locals but knew it was useless. Burke saw everything in black and white. “I’m sure you’ll outline all your likes and dislikes to Barb tonight.” She crossed her arms and stepped back. “Have a nice night.”

  “I might drop
back later. If you’re home?”

  “No!” She heard her telltale note of panic and calmed her voice. “I’m busy with Wally tonight.”

  “I see,” he said. “Then enjoy your evening.” He backed out of the driveway and sped over the ridge, a cloud of dust spiraling after his car.

  She forced a nonchalant smile and climbed back up the steps. Wally had straightened on the swing as though Burke’s visit had injected him with a new level of sobriety. “What did he want?”

  “Just checking if I was coming for dinner.”

  “Dinner?” Wally’s eyes narrowed. “You two hang out like that? You’re…close?”

  Jenna couldn’t hide her blush.

  “Oh, fuck me.” Wally’s face twisted and he laughed with a bitter note she didn’t understand. “Goddammit. Sonofabitch played us both.”

  “You’re not making sense.”

  “He said if I didn’t quit, he’d replace you with Kathryn. And fire you if I said anything. So I signed his damn paper.”

  Jenna’s legs wobbled. She dropped like a rock onto the swing, staring at Wally in disbelief. “Fire me?” Her voice quavered. “He threatened to fire me? And you gave it all up? Oh, Wally–”

  “It’s all right, Jenna. Bastard outplayed me. He eats people like us for breakfast.”

  Jenna choked back a hysterical sob. Dear Wally, always so loyal. And damn that Burke. Would he have fired her? Maybe. Of course, now she was likely to lose her job anyway, not this week or next, but down the road. Barb would wonder why she wasn’t taking courses. Would check her credentials and discover they were all a pack of lies.

  Wally’s sacrifice had been in vain. He’d even signed a stupid document. Just like she’d signed one confirming her education. If only those papers could be destroyed.

  “There may be a way to fix this,” she said slowly, “if we can get into his office.”

  “Impossible.” Wally shook his head. “The locks were changed a few weeks ago. I’ve already tried.”

 

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