The Heat of the Moment

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The Heat of the Moment Page 7

by Margaret Carr


  She was spitting fire in Spanish as Kane thrust a glass of wine into her hand. Swiftly, Frances cleared away the food and repacked the basket. Pilar was insisting upon being taken back to the hotel.

  ‘I must have a word with Tony first, then we will all return to the hotel,’ Kane said before he walked off, leaving the two women alone.

  Frances didn’t like being left in the Spanish woman’s company not even for the few minutes it would take Kane to pass on his instructions to the groom, but at least it would give her the opportunity to ask about Firefly.

  ‘How do you think Firefly will stand up to the cross country tomorrow?’

  Pilar glared across at her but said nothing. Frances tried again. ‘He did well in the ring.’

  The woman ignored her, turning to watch Kane’s return. He returned a few minutes later minus hat, crop and spurs and led them off to the carpark after taking the picnic basket from Frances’s hands.

  Back in her room at the hotel, Frances pulled the parcel Maurice had given her out of her pocket. It was in a bulky brown business envelope, wrapped around with sticky tape. Sifting down on the bed, she turned it over in her hands, wondering what she was going to find inside it.

  Something to do with saving Firefly, he had said, but she found it hard to believe. What did he care what happened to Firefly? Piece by piece, she tore open the envelope. The sticky tape wouldn’t snap and it was tied tightly all around a second parcel inside the envelope.

  It took several minutes before the truth dawned. There was nothing here except layers of paper. Frances sat amidst the rubbish scattered over her bed, a deep frown between her brows. What was he up to? Try as she might, she couldn’t work out why he had done this.

  There was a knock on the door half an hour later and Frances opened it to find Maurice standing in the passage.

  ‘What do you want, and more to the point, what game are you playing pushing bags of rubbish at me?’

  She was livid, and made to slam the door in his face, but he shoved a foot in the gap.

  ‘If you really want that horse you’ll listen to what I have to say. Now let me in or do you want all and sundry to hear what I have to say?’ Reluctantly she stepped aside and allowed him to pass into the room. ‘Say what you have to then get out,’ she snapped.

  He sauntered over to the w!ndow and looked down into the carpark. ‘Not much of a view, is it?’

  Frances opened her mouth to warn him again when he spoke slowly without turning back into the room.

  ‘Pilar has gone home. She left me the job of selling the horse.’

  ‘She’s selling Firefly?’

  Frances could hardly believe she had heard right. He swung round, a crafty look on his face.

  ‘No, I am.’

  Calm down, she told herself. Don’t get carried away. He’s up to something.

  ‘Well, you know I want him. Have you come to give me a price?’ she began.

  ‘You could say that but why don’t we discuss that over dinner?’

  Oh, no, she groaned to herself. She was supposed to be having dinner with Kane. With his head to one side and a confident grin on his face he watched her indecision.

  ‘Right, fine, I’ll have to make a phone call first but I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes,’ she replied eventually.

  When he’d gone, Frances picked up the phone and stood for several minutes before making a stab at the buttons.

  That evening, she phoned the Truscotts. After talking happy baby talk with Tessa for several minutes she asked to speak to Martin. Her friends were thrilled to hear that she was here in England but then she told Martin about Firefly. He remembered the horse and agreed he had shown great potential.

  ‘I want to buy him, Martin.’

  There was silence for a while and then Martin asked, ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Money. I want to know if you’d be interested in a share.’

  ‘How much?’

  She told him.

  ‘Hang on while I talk to Tess.’

  Frances sat on the bed, cradling the phone and chewing her lip.

  ‘OK, how long are you here for?’ Martin asked when he spoke again. ‘Two more days.’

  ‘You going to be able to make all the arrangements at your end? It is the weekend, you know.’

  Breathless with excitement she said, ‘I”Il get on to it first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Right, I’ll have a banker’s daft down to you first thing and a box for the horse. You sure you’ve thoughf.his out? It’s a big responsibility.’

  ‘We’ll bring you fame you’ve bnly dreamed of, you wait and see.’ Her voice trembled as she thanked him.

  * * *

  The following day was the day of the cross country, the day Frances was dreading because if there was going to be any foul play then the cross country was the place for it, even though the rules were carried out with strict precision.

  Frances found herself a good spot at the cattle grid with its short, extra stride in the middle that would, if the rider wasn’t careful, catch out a long-striding horse like Commander. Kane flew round the course in good time, the agility of the big horse amazing everyone who watched. Frances was on her feet urging them on as they passed through the cattle grid without harm and continued on their way.

  Kane was leading the competition at the end of the day leaving only the show jumping to come on the Sunday. So far, so good, Frances told herself when she was alone once more in her room at the hotel. Perhaps it had all been in her imagination and nothing would happen to harm Kane, the ranch or Firefly.

  The telephone rang on the bedside table as she came out of the shower. It was Kane asking if she was free in the evening as she owed him for last night’s disappointment with the dinner cancellation. She agreed to meet him in twenty minutes and fluttered around wondering what to wear. When at last she decided, and donned the dress, she couldn’t decide on the right accessories for it, and so the twenty minutes dwindled away.

  When the doorbell rang, she still wasn’t ready.

  ‘Please,’ she said opening the door wide. ‘I’m sorry to keep you but I didn’t bring much of a wardrobe.’

  ‘What’s wrong? You look fine to me.’

  He was smiling, his eyes like soft moss as he looked her over.

  ‘Let me help you into that jacket and we’ll take a walk around town and see if we can find ourselves an Italian restaurant. You like Italian food?’

  ‘Yes, I do, as a matter of fact.’

  The night air was warm, not as warm as they were used to, of course, which was why she wore a jacket. She had become quite used to the heat of Tenerife and so felt the lack of it though she had only been there six months. They walked side by side, in silence at first.

  ‘How’s Commander? Is he still fit?’ Feeling a little awkward she hesitated. ‘I mean . . .’

  ‘He’s fine. There were a couple of obstacles he stumbled over but he recovered splendidly and is sound and ready for tomorrow. I’m afraid we can’t say the same for Pilar. Firefly is lame. He finished the course but was found to be lame later. She wasn’t very happy about it but she knew there was a risk entering such a green horse.’

  Now was the time to tell him she had bought Firefly but hesitated. Fully conscious of the envious glances from women diners following them to their table, Frances realised she was enjoying the reflected glory of her partner. He was quite the most handsome man in the room and well-known to the majority of visitors crowding the town for the famous annual horse trials.

  They ate a wonderful pasta, drank lots of red wine and talked about horses, all kinds of horses, but still she couldn’t bring herself to mention Firefly.

  The next day, Commander jumped two clear rounds but Kane refused to push him and as a result lost out on timing. His overall placing at the end of the trials was second. He shrugged his shoulders, patting the great horse and pulling his ears as he stood in line for the award ceremony. Frances was overwhelmed by a feeling of p
ride.

  It was as though she herself had taken some small part in Kane’s success. Perhaps she had for when he had seen Commander safely to his box and checked everything was ready for horse and groom to travel home to Tenerife, he returned to her side and swung her off her feet.

  ‘Tomorrow we will meet with your friends and I will learn all about you.’

  ‘Why?’

  Breathlessly she clutched at the lapels of his jacket to steady herself. He set her back at arm’s length and studied her face.

  ‘Because we are friends, I think, and I wish to know more about my new friend.’

  His words sent her heart into a wild dance while her face creased with worry.

  ‘People aren’t always what they seem.’

  ‘Exactly, which is why I must know more about you.’

  ‘Will I lose my job if you don’t like what you find?’ she asked boldly. ‘Of course,’ he replied swiftly.

  His lips twitched and she knew that he was laughing at her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The sale went ahead without trouble and the horsebox arrived from Martin’s at ten o’clock that morning. Frances paced round and round her room rehearsing again and again what she would say to Kane.

  They had dined together the evening before and he had kissed her good-night. Later this morning they were to drive up together to see the Truscotts.

  Somehow she must tell him that she had bought Firefly and was now unable to go back to Tenerife. She would be needed here to get Firefly back into shape to race again. Martin had agreed to house him but the rest she must do for herself.

  Lunchtime came and went and still there was no word from Kane, and there was no reply when she rang his room number. She rang reception to see if there was a message for her and was astounded when told that Mr Harding had settled up his bill and left.

  There had to be some sort of mistake, surely. Even if something had come up that needed his attention he would hardly have left without leaving a message. Checking her room to make sure she had all her belongings, she picked up her bag and went down to reception.

  Yes, her room had been paid for, and, yes, there was something waiting for her. She was handed a newspaper, and an envelope. Taking them across to a seat she sat down and opened the letter. It said simply that as she would see if she read the paper, his business deal with the German and French companies was off and he now had proof that she had sold him out to buy Firefly from Senora Mendoza.

  He was saddened to remember that she had warned him that all was not as it seemed and she was right in her assumption that he would no longer require her assistance in Tenerife.

  Stuffing the letter into her pocket, she pulled open the newspaper and on the business page, ringed in pen for her convenience, was the article he referred to. She read it repeatedly then slowly the paper crumpled to her knees. How could he believe she was capable of such treachery? He said he had proof. Why hadn’t he stayed to face her with this so-called proof? She knew she had done nothing to be ashamed of. He had asked her to keep his deal a secret and she had told no-one. So where was his proof?

  From horror, her emotions had turned to anger. Good riddance to him if that is what he thinks of me, she told herself, as a silent tear teetered on the edge of her lower lid. It made her life easier now she didn’t have to tell him that she was staying in England. She ordered a taxi to the railway station and while she waited, she phoned Tessa to check that they had room for her. Thankfully she had never mentioned the possibility of Kane accompanying her to Yorkshire.

  * * *

  Two weeks passed and she rode Firefly out with the exercise string of horses every morning. His lameness had passed quickly and he was settling back nicely into racing routines. It was as if he knew he was back where he belonged, for he lost his timidity and wariness. His coat shone and his spirited demeanour returned as his head hung over the stable door calling and begging for titbits from passers-by.

  It was just after the mid-day feed, halfway through the third week of Frances’s return, that Martin called her into the office to take a telephone call. Lifting her brows in question she took the receiver from him.

  ‘Hello.’

  There was a lot of static then it cleared and Gilbert’s voice came over the line.

  ‘Fran, it is Gilbert. We have much trouble here.’

  Again there was static and she could hardly hear him.

  ‘I phone from a public box,’ he said and she heard money going in. ‘I cannot phone from the ranch. Kane has forbidden it. He has lost much money but here we all know it is not of your doing. This trouble comes from the Senora Mendoza and that Maurice. It is what we feared. It is why Juan Carlos also was forbidden to visit the ranch because the senora many years ago spoke that Juan Carlos was the son of Kane. He is not, but how you say it, mud sticks and Senor Kane is a proud man.’

  The static was very bad for a few seconds and she missed what he said next. She strained her ears to catch his next words.

  ‘Please, Fran, you will come,’ was all she heard.

  ‘I’m sorry, Gilbert, I didn’t catch all that.’

  He repeated what he had said and asked her again to come back to the ranch.

  ‘I cannot come, Gilbert, I’m sorry. I swear to you I did nothing wrong but if Kane can hold Juan Carlos’s birth against the boy for so long what hope have I of proving my innocence?’

  When she had replaced the receiver, she stood with her hand resting on it for some time. So the only thing Juan Carlos had done was to have been the cause of some gossip years ago! With a sigh she turned to go to find Martin watching her from the doorway. He made a rueful face at her.

  ‘Bad news?’ he asked.

  She shrugged.

  ‘Someone from the Tenerife ranch wanting me back.’

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  She smiled.

  ‘Some other time.’

  He nodded and watched her leave the office and head for Firefly’s box. Tessa had mentioned that Fran seemed troubled, though she was thoroughly enjoying being around the baby. One of the grooms called him from the top yard and all thoughts of Fran were forgotten.

  * * *

  ‘You just look after Firefly. There will be plenty of time later to think about racing.’

  Martin was laying down the law to Fran who sent a pleading look to Tessa as she entered the kitchen.

  ‘I must earn my keep somehow. If I thought for a moment I couldn’t then I would never have come back.’

  ‘Martin is right, Fran. It’s far too soon to race again.’

  ‘My arms have made good progress in the heat of Tenerife,’ she objected.

  She was angry and frustrated. She knew her friends were mystified at this impatient, different side to her character, but she couldn’t help herself.

  ‘What is it, Fran? What’s really wrong?’ Tessa asked in concern.

  Martin had left the room and the two women sat side by side on the settle in front of the range.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Frances sniffed. ‘I just hated leaving Kane under such a cloud. How could he have believed what he did of me? I mean, I thought we were beginning to know each other.’

  ‘I thought he was just unpleasant to you.’

  ‘Yes, he was in the beginning,’ Frances agreed.

  ‘But things changed?’

  Frances sighed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And now what he thinks of you matters very much.’

  Frances raised her head and stared at her friend. Knowledge flowed through her. I love him, she thought. I love him and he’s in trouble. She rose from the seat and moved towards the table in the centre of the room where she turned back to her friend.

  ‘I love him,’ she said simply.

  Tessa nodded. ‘Of course you do.’

  ‘I can’t go back.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose you can.’

  ‘What do I do, Tessa? I’ve tried to put it behind me and look forward, but it’s like a bad ta
ste in my mouth which taints everything.’

  ‘Well, you’re not responsible, so who is? You must have some idea who could have seen those documents and informed the Press.’

  Frances returned to her seat.

  ‘Oh, I know who is behind it all right but even if I went back there, there is no saying I could prove anything.’

  ‘You know, Fran, Firefly has made a better recovery from his sojourn in Tenerife than you have. Where’s all the fight that made you such a successful jockey? You have changed so much I barely recognise you.’

  Frances took up her friend’s challenge, straightened her shoulders, gave one long sigh and smiled.

  ‘Sorry to have been such a misery but I really will have to get back on track soon.’

  ‘Of course you will, just not quite yet. And don’t worry, Fran. Time will solve your problem for you, one way or another.’

  The next morning, Frances held back from joining the string of horses going for exercise, waiting for their return before taking Firefly up on to the moors. The sun was burning off the last of the early mist and there was little wind. Only the piercing cry of the curlew broke the silence.

  Her stillness communicated itself to the horse and together they rested. After a while, Firefly became restless and she nudged him forward on to the grassy track. He needed no encouragement. They were off, flying over the grass, the soft thud of his hooves music in her ears. All too soon it was over and she sat back in the saddle with a happy laugh. He was ready, she was sure of it. He was entered for a hurdle next month and by then she would be ready also.

  The early-morning traffic was increasing as they made their way back through the village. A large white van was following them, unable to pass because of on-coming traffic. At the first sign of a gap, Frances waved him on, but he cut in very close leaving Frances no option but to climb on to the pavement, frightening the life out of a mother and baby who immediately crushed into a shop doorway, the pavement was so narrow.

  Firefly danced on the spot until they moved back on to the road, then down into the stable yard. It wasn’t until she had jumped down and was leading the horse into his box that she felt a twinge in her arm. She untacked him and was making her way across the yard to the tack room when, without warning, the saddle slid from her arm. Startled, she stood and stared at it for several minutes until someone shouted to her.

 

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