Deception

by Carolyn Haines

  “You would, wouldn’t you?” Richard expected no answer. “I guess the only thing you can do is see what Clay finds more important—you, or the Senate seat. There’s no one except Harlan saying he can’t have both, but if it comes to a choice, Clay has to make it, don’t you think?”

  It was the soundest advice Connor had received. “You’re right.”

  “I don’t think Clay is the right man for you, Connor. I know you well enough to know that he could break your heart. Not necessarily out of meanness, either. But you expect a certain … loyalty. I’m not sure Clay can give it. You see, in Alabama, there’s always the past. Always. That’s why I like California, a state where the present is all that counts. And whether you want to believe it or not, Clay has a past that he can never escape as long as he lives there. And he won’t ever leave.” A note of anger crept into his voice.

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Connor made a quick decision not to repeat the things Clay had told her about Talla. It was his own business, and it didn’t really matter if Richard knew all the details. What mattered was that she believed Clay. What they shared was special, deep. He wouldn’t trash it for some transient pleasure.

  “I can tell you’ve formed your own opinion on that matter. I hope you’re right, Connor. If you love him, I hope to God he has enough sense to realize what he’s got and that he treats you right.”

  “Only time will tell, Richard. I’m not eager to rush into anything … permanent.”

  “My God, are you already talking marriage?” There was awe in Richard’s voice.

  “No! That’s never even come up.” Not in conversation, at least. But Connor knew she’d thought about it.

  “Thank goodness.” Richard’s relief was palpable. “To tumble into bed with the man was probably inevitable, but don’t marry him! His life’s going to be one public scrutiny after another. I don’t think you’d care for that kind of life very much. Just ignore his brother, have your fun, and save your money. That way you have all your options open when the term of your contract is up. If you and Clay are still hot and heavy, stay a bit longer. If it’s burned itself out, then you can pursue that dream of a horse farm.”

  Richard’s words were like pebbles dropping into a deep pond. They struck, resonated, and created far-reaching ripples, but Connor didn’t want to think about them. What she felt for Clay wasn’t the type of thing that burned itself out.

  “You really think I should ignore Harlan? Should I tell Clay?”

  “Harlan is a jerk. I can promise you, if Clay wanted to get rid of you, he’d tell you himself. He wouldn’t send Harlan to do his business. He wouldn’t send Harlan to the cleaners to get his pants.”

  “Thanks, Richard.” A heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “By the way, I’m still looking for one of those Junior League creatures.”

  “Ah, the elusive brown-nosed Junior Leaguer. Why, I suppose this time of year you might check those exclusive little Christmas shops. Possibly the tennis courts or brunch tables at the Highridge Country Club. They have a shrill cry. ‘I’ma-snot. I’ma-snot.’ Very distinctive.”

  Connor couldn’t help laughing. “Are you sure I shouldn’t check under the azalea bushes in Washington Square? I hear that’s where all of the true Mobilians are born.”

  “Bred but not born,” Richard said. “But it never hurts to look there. No telling what might turn up.”

  “I miss you, Richard,” Connor said. “I haven’t really had a chance to meet anyone here. I stay with the horses.”

  “And with Clay. I’m sure he keeps you busy.”

  “He does.” Connor felt the blush on her cheeks. “He said you two used to run around together. From what I hear, neither of you wore a halo.”

  “Clay would lure the unsuspecting women into the car with his charm, then I’d grab one and pull her into the back seat and off we’d go to Johnny’s Smokehouse on the Mississippi line for some illegal whisky and some close dancing. Those were the days.”

  “Why don’t you come to Mobile for a visit?” Connor proposed. “I know Clay would be glad to have you stay at Oaklawn. And I’d love to see you.”

  “I’ll be finished filming at Christmas, and I’ll be home for sure. Thanks for the invite, but my parents would die of humiliation if I came home and stayed at someone else’s house. That just isn’t done, my dear. Children stay in their own homes, or else someone might think there was a family rift. The next thing I know, the gossip would be all over town that I didn’t stay at home because my parents had found out I was a homosexual.”

  “Oh, Richard!” Connor didn’t believe half of what he said about Mobile.

  “Cross my heart and spit, Connor. That’s how their petty little minds work. Stay there long enough, you’ll find out.”

  “I hope not,” she answered, meaning it. “But I will see you at Christmas, won’t I?”

  “You can count on it, sweetheart. Just stay clear of Harlan and enjoy your time with Clay. And Connor, remember that almost everyone has an ulterior motive. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to protect yourself.”

  “Thanks, Richard. I love you.”

  Connor replaced the phone. Her enthusiasm for shopping had been restored, and she hurried back through the barn.

  “No galloping, Danny,” she reminded him as she left. “And cool the horses properly when you get back. And please tell Willene I went shopping and that I’ll grab something to eat in town.”

  Once back in the truck, Connor headed down the driveway and felt a real sense of freedom. She was spending too much time at Oaklawn. It might do her good to visit some of the other stables in town. She might luck up on the second horse Clay wanted, and she might also luck up on a friend. Her conversation with Richard had made her realize how out of touch and lonely she’d been for someone with her interests.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Connor hooked her foot on the rail at Blakely Farm and watched the five-year-old gelding they called Ribbons take the series of jumps. She’d stopped by the breeding and training facility on the spur of the moment, and she’d lucked out in finding a trainer close to her own age with good sense and a good eye for horseflesh. The horse she was showing was a beautiful animal with clean legs and a steady manner, but he was too small. Clay needed a larger mount. It was a shame, though—in another few years, Ribbons would be perfect for Renata.

  Elvie Adams, the trainer and rider, completed the jumps and circled back to where Connor stood at the rail.

  “He’s a beauty,” Connor agreed, answering the young woman’s questioning eyes. “He’s everything you said he was. You’ve done a great job with him.” On first sight she’d liked the trainer’s friendly smile and gentle touch on the horse.

  “Mostly it’s his breeding.” The raspy voice came from over Connor’s left shoulder. “A horse with good breeding can make even an adequate rider look good.”

  Connor turned to confront the older woman who’d spoken. The woman’s lack of sensititivty to her employee’s feelings was appalling.

  “I’m Clarissa Barnes, owner of Blakely Farm. Ribbons is one of the foals bred and born here. That’s all, Elvie, take him into the barn and cool him. And do it properly.”

  Connor turned to thank the trainer, but the young woman had already turned Ribbons away. There was a tension about Elvie’s shoulders that hadn’t been there when she’d ridden.

  “Elvie is a lovely rider,” Connor said, keeping her gaze on the disappearing horse and rider. She’d worked for people like Clarissa Barnes, people who never recognized the hard work or ability of their employees.

  “She’s good if someone stays after her.”

  Connor forced a smile. “As a trainer myself, I can recognize good work when I see it. I also find I work better in places where my efforts are appreciated.”

  “I know who you are.” Clarissa smiled. “You’re quite the talk of the horsey set around here. I’m certain Clay Sumner appreciates your talents.” Clarissa’s small eyes were brightening. �
��Are you enjoying being Clay’s barn girl?”

  “I enjoy my job. Maybe it’s because Mr. Sumner treats me like a professional. You might try that with Elvie.”

  Clarissa laughed. Her gray hair, permed into tight spirals, was partially pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard you had a California attitude. That’s one nice thing about Elvie, she’s from around here and she understands her job. And her title. Now about Ribbons. We’re asking fifteen, and don’t try to tell me Clay can’t afford it.”

  “He’s a beautiful animal, and maybe in a few years Renata will be interested in him, but he’s not right for Clay.” Connor couldn’t deny that she took pleasure in turning down the horse.

  “What exactly do you find wrong with the horse?” The edge in Clarissa’s voice was unpleasant.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the horse, Mrs. Barnes,” Connor said calmly. “He simply isn’t the right horse.”

  “According to you.”

  Connor smiled. “That’s what Clay pays me for, my expert opinion.”

  “Maybe I should call Clay and ask him about this himself. After all, I’ve known Clay for years. I probably know things you’d like to hear about.”

  Connor smiled. “Call him, if you’d like. He’ll tell you the same thing I’m telling you. I select his horses for him. I am the hired help at Oaklawn, as you seemed so eager to point out, but the reason I’m hired is for my knowledge. As I said, maybe when Renata gets older and more accomplished we’ll take a look at something for her.”

  Clarissa’s smile was unexpected. “Well, well, you think you’re sitting in the catbird seat. We’ve all heard about you and the “remarkable progress” you’ve made with Clay’s children. Especially Renata. That child needed a good beating. I’ve never seen such a willful little monster.”

  “Both children are turning into excellent riders. I’ll tell Clay you asked about them.” Connor wanted to get away from Clarissa. The woman was a bubbling pot of malice and bad opinions.

  “I heard the girl was terrified of the barn—not hard to understand after she found her mother swinging from a rafter. You know, they said there were fingerprints on Talla’s neck that the lunge line didn’t exactly cover up. Talk was that Clay’s influence made sure her death was reported a suicide, but not everyone believes that.” Clarissa lit a cigarette, watching Connor for any sign of weakness through the smoke.

  Connor felt the heat of her temper notch higher. “I would think that someone who owns her own business would find more to talk about than ancient gossip. If you have questions about my authority to buy Clay’s horses, or questions about his wife’s death, you should speak with him yourself.”

  Connor didn’t give the woman a chance to respond. She started toward the barn.

  Elvie was brushing Ribbons in the center aisle. She turned slightly as Connor stalked into the barn. Elvie looked up, then looked back down, her face flushing with embarrassment.

  “She does that to me all the time,” she said, her hands busy with the horse. “You’d think I’d get used to it one day.”

  “Why don’t you come out to Oaklawn and ride with me sometime? My two horses are there, and I’m trying to put some road miles on them. There’re some great trails.” Connor patted Ribbons’ neck. “You’ve done a wonderful job with this animal. I wouldn’t expect your employer to be able to see it, though.”

  “She’s a bitch,” Elvie whispered under her breath. “But it’s a steady paycheck.”

  “I’ve worked in the same situation,” Connor said. “Don’t let it get you down. I can see that you’re good. You’ll move on before long.”

  Elvie gave Connor a small grin. “Thanks. I’d love to come ride with you. How about Thursday?”

  “Excellent.” Connor looked up to see Clarissa striding into the barn. “Thursday, about eleven?”

  “I’ll be there.” Elvie bent down and picked up Ribbons’ hoof to clean it.

  Connor continued through the barn and out to the parking lot where her Chevy was under a tree. Blakely Farm was beautiful, situated with a view of Mobile Bay and the woods all around it. Connor silently thanked her lucky stars that she’d wound up working for Clay instead of someone like Clarissa Barnes.

  The front seat of the truck was loaded with Christmas presents that she pushed against the passenger door as she got in. She’d found a couple of novels written by Mobile writers for Richard, some gourmet coffees to ship to her father as a pre-Christmas gift, a beautiful red sweater for Willene, and some earrings for Sally. For Danny, she’d ordered a leather halter with Ali Baba’s name on it, along with a bareback pad. Renata was a bit harder, but she’d settled on a riding jacket on sale. The little girl loved to dress in her breeches, boots and a jacket when she rode—to look proper, as she called it. The jacket would be great for Oaklawn, a deep forest green with a stylish cut.

  Best of all was the saddle she’d found for Clay. It was expensive, but Connor felt she had room to splurge a bit. She’d spent so much of her life living from one paycheck to the next that having a little money in her pocket when she shopped was a pleasurable feeling. When she imagined Clay riding in the saddle, it was a very good feeling.

  As she drove west toward Oaklawn, Connor impulsively took the Water Street exit to downtown Mobile. She needed a dose of Clay, even if it was only a brief hello.

  Feeling a bit awkward, she gave the receptionist her name and waited. The downtown office was as beautifully appointed as Oaklawn, and almost as old. There were some wonderful paintings on the walls, and …

  “Connor!”

  She turned into Clay’s embrace.

  “How wonderful of you to come downtown.” Clay looked at the receptionist. “Margaret, I think we’re going to call it a day. I have some briefs to dictate, and I can do that later. Why don’t you take off a bit early?”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.” Margaret turned off her computer. “You two have a nice afternoon.”

  Before Connor could sit down, Clay took her hand and led her through the offices onto a porch and down steep brick steps to an enclosed patio where a fountain bubbled softly.

  “It’s beautiful,” Connor said, “like pictures I’ve seen of the courtyards in New Orleans.”

  “You’re beautiful.” Clay reached for the buttons on her blouse.

  “Clay!” Connor looked around. The courtyard was enclosed by high brick walls on three sides and the law offices on the front. But she still felt so exposed.

  “Everyone’s gone. Relax.” His fingers skillfully opened her shirt and removed it. There was a small bench tucked beneath a palm, and Clay directed her there. “I want to show you how glad I am to see you. I’ve had a rotten day, including a visit with my brother, and now you’re here to make me feel all better.” He eased her down onto the bench. “I was thinking about you when you walked in the door, wishing I could be with you. You’re like a fantasy come true.”

  Connor forgot her concerns and drew Clay down with her on the narrow bench.

  It was dark when Connor drove in to Oaklawn. The afternoon session in the courtyard still made her blush at the memory, but she was completely delighted. Clay made her feel so special, so desirable.

  Making a quick check of the barn, Connor got back in the truck and drove to the back patio. Secrecy was foremost in her mind with all the Christmas presents she had to haul inside. Chances were the children were upstairs in their room or in the library. Of course, if they were in the kitchen, she’d be a goner.

  Trying not to make a sound, she eased in the back door and across the hall. As she turned into the long hallway to her stairs, she heard the kitchen door slam.

  “I think we should tell Connor.” Danny’s voice carried clearly.

  “She won’t believe us. She didn’t believe you the last time. Besides, I like having a secret. Just between us.” Renata giggled.

  “And the lady,” Danny added glumly. “I mean, that dress and all, it’s pretty weird. And the way
she talks …”

  “I don’t care, I like her. She’s my friend.”

  Connor hesitated. She didn’t like the idea of eavesdropping, not even on children, but she had the sense that maybe they were talking for her benefit. Maybe they wanted her to hear. It did sound as if they were cueing each other.

  On a chance she eased her armload of presents to the floor and tiptoed down the hall. Sure enough, Danny and Renata were staring at each other and making hand signals, the little pretenders.

  “Did you see your stranger in the woods again?” Connor asked suddenly and was rewarded by Renata’s startled shriek and Danny’s holler.

  “Connor!” The children said in unison. They looked at each other.

  “You scared us,” Renata said. She laughed uneasily.

  “I heard your voices, and I came to investigate,” Connor said. “What were you talking about? Did you run into the strange woman in the woods again?”

  “Yes.” Danny hesitated before he spoke.

  “Any more dire warnings for me?” Connor asked, lifting her eyebrows to show she wasn’t too serious.

  Danny shook his head. “Nope. Not this time.”

  “Oh, really? What did your new friend talk about?”

  “I like her,” Renata said. “She’s the only friend Danny and I have ever made by ourselves. She’s pretty and she’s nice.”

  There was a defensive note in Renata’s voice, and Connor decided not to push it. The children had stopped making threats. That was enough. There was little enough harm in an imaginary friend, and she hadn’t thought about it, but in the time she’d been at Oaklawn, neither Renata nor Danny had asked to bring over a single friend. They were rather isolated.

  “I’m glad you’ve met someone nice. What’s her name?”

  “She won’t say.” Renata looked at Connor. “You don’t believe she’s there, do you?”

  “What matters is that she’s a nice friend to you and Danny.”

  “She knows all about the past, what it was like here before the Civil War and all. When there were slaves,” Danny said eagerly. “She can ride a horse, she said, but she didn’t want to ride Ali or Erin. She didn’t like our saddles.”