by Dani Wyatt
My fingers are shaking. My heart isn’t beating. I’m being sucked down into some vortex that has me unable to breathe or respond. It’s how I always feel when my father talks to me like that. I become this pathetic little girl who does as she’s told by Daddy without question.
“You can go change in the office, dear.” My mom places a hand on my arm and I jerk away. “I had a set of britches and boots brought down from the house earlier. Go on. Show your father you appreciate everything he does for you.” My mother’s voice sounds as pathetic as I feel.
“I don’t know anything about that horse.” My bottom lip is shaking. I hate that I’m scared. Terrified really.
“Travis tells me this is the horse that will get you to the next level. He knows better than any of us what you need. We knew Ruby wasn’t the right horse anymore for you. You should have never gone to that other trainer. Now, go get changed and get on that horse. Show me you are serious about this.” My father crosses his arms and stares over my head at the horse. “The doctors said there was nothing wrong with you.”
Ten minutes later I’m still fighting the tears, but I’m on the mounting block while my parents and Travis watch from the other end of the arena. The groom is holding the new horse, and I can see the animal’s skin twitching. The whites of his eyes ring the brown inside. He’s terrified.
“Whoa, bud,” I murmur, slipping the tip of my black boot into the silver stirrup. “One, two, three,” I softly count off to myself, then pop up, throwing my right leg over the saddle.
Before I find my seat and settle my other foot in the stirrup, the horse explodes forward like a dragster off the line.
“Whoa!” I don’t even have my hands on the reins, all I can do is reach down and grab the mane. My heart is in my throat as the horse is gaining momentum and heading toward the open arena doors. If he makes it outside, he can run forever. I’m barely holding on as it is. I loosen one hand, flailing for the leather rein strap that is hanging down under his neck.
“Oh God, please...” We’re thirty feet from the door and my parents are screaming at me like there’s anything I can do. Travis doesn’t throw himself in front of the gelding, he doesn’t try to slow him down; he just jumps out of the way. I’m doomed. If this animal gets out in the open, my only chance is to dump myself off now, but he’s going so fast. If I fall at this speed I may not ride again, ever.
I squeeze my eyes shut, my one hand holding onto the short, coarse hair at the top of his neck, my other hand still feeling around for the leather, when I hear a voice roar above the sound of the others.
“Whoa!”
I dare open one eye and there’s Reed, arms high, waving his cane in the air and yelling at the horse, making himself as big as possible, countering every left and right motion of the gelding. He anticipates the horse’s movements before they even happen.
“No! Get out of the way!” I yell, but my voice breaks in my throat. The gelding is hell bent and he’s going to run right over Reed if he doesn’t move.
I squeeze my eyes shut again, tensing, waiting for the inevitable collision that will throw me to the ground and trample over the man that I am sure I am in love with.
A small prayer falls from my lips and I bring both hands to tighten on the mane, hoping beyond hope for an outcome I cannot foresee.
“Whoa!” Another bellow from Reed.
My mother is screaming, my father is shouting, and Travis is silent.
As the gelding reaches the open doors, suddenly he turns sharply to the left, my body nearly flying from the back of the giant animal, but I manage to keep my grip. Before I know it, the black gelding is turning in larger then smaller circles, his speed slowing until he is a huffing mess under me.
“Jump down, Constance, now!” Reed’s voice wakes me from where I’m frozen in fear.
I don’t think. I just do as he says, flinging my right leg back over and free-falling down the side of the gelding into his one open, waiting arm. His other hand is dripping blood from the leather rein that has cut into his palm. The horse is stomping in place and pulling backward, eyes wild and froth dripping from his mouth.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Travis finally has something to say.
“I’m obviously here to be the one person who has any sense. What the fuck are you doing, putting her on this horse? On any fucking horse.” Reed looks like he could kill with just his eyes.
“That horse is a three-time International Eventing Champion,” my father chimes in, lurching forward.
“Is he?” Reed is huffing himself, his face twisted in anger. “That’s what Travis told you?”
“Yes. We bought him. Luckily, Travis was able to negotiate a deal for Constance.”
“Yeah? Negotiate a deal.” Reed spits. “Let me see, did it go something like this? He’ll take Ruby off your hands and sell her – at a huge loss, of course. Then, just by sheer luck, this amazing champion horse is for sale at the rock bottom price of 1.6 million dollars, but you have to act now or someone else will snatch him up.”
I’m looking back and forth between the three men, my mother looking like a scared barn mouse standing by the arena wall.
“How did you know that?” My father’s forehead pulls together.
“Yes, how did I know that, Travis?” Reed hands the reins to the wide-eyed groom who’s run across the ring next to him.
“Reed, you don’t know anything about this horse. This is Lucian McDonnelly’s old mount. The one that won him gold two years ago at Warrington. Years of Gold is his name; they call him Black Gold.”
“Black Gold?” Reed steps forward, pulling me by the hand to stand behind him. He’s laughing now. “Mr. Montgomery.” He turns from Travis to my father. “You’ve been sold the Brooklyn Bridge. I’m Reed Sawyer, and when the trailer showed up to pick up Ruby, I stepped in and refused. The driver told me all about this ‘Black Gold,’ and this is a small horse community. I know all the horses on this circuit, their owners, who’s for sale, who’s hurt. I made some quick phone calls just to be sure. I’m telling you, sir, this is not Black Gold.”
“How do you know that?” My father grumbles.
“Because, Black Gold is in a pasture in Florida right now. Recouping from a hock injury. One of my former students bought Black Gold two months ago, then he got his foot stuck in a fence and he’s been recovering since. This horse is not Black Gold. And anyone that would put your daughter on this unbalanced animal is not looking out for her success nor her best interest. So, I’m sorry to cut this little get together short, but Constance is returning with me. Right now.”
I’m shaking. All the men are caught in some kind of showdown and whoever talks first loses.
“Come on, babe.”
“But, wait.” For some reason I don’t think I should go with him so easily, but I clearly don’t belong here. And in the short time Reed’s trained me and been with me, I’ve never felt more safe, loved, nor protected.
“No waiting.” He looks down with a smile. Even in the midst of all this tension, his focus is purely on me. “We’ve wasted enough time. Besides, you and I have unfinished business, don’t we?” He loses a bit of his smile, but my body flushes with heat knowing I should have never run out on him like that. “Are you okay?” Without another word to either of them, my father or Travis, Reed sets his arm around my shoulders, waiting for my answer.
I nod. “I’m fine. I’m not sure what’s going on here. And I’m so sorry.” My voice falls, remembering my tremor and my immature reaction. “Are you okay? I can’t believe I pushed you like that. I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh. We’ll talk about it later, but I’m fine and we are fine. You understand what I’m saying?”
He’s talking to me like no one else is around, completely focused on me, even as the other three hop around in the background.
I nod again, my heart beating triple time, my palms sweating. My father is saying something to me but all I do is look at Reed. He reads my eyes perfectly, giv
ing me a soft nod, then steps up a bit more toward the open door. He stops there and bends down to where his cane is laying in the sandy ground of the arena a few feet away.
“I won’t pay you! If you leave, Constance, you’re cut off.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Reed bellows. The raw emotion in his voice is in stark contrast to his well-cut persona and I love the duality. Just more jaw-dropping sexiness I’ll have to put up with I guess.
My father’s eyes go wide. His jaw drops, leaving his mouth gaping.
I doubt anyone has dared speak to him like that before.
“All of you. That horse is drugged. I know you paid a shit ton of money for him, but he’s worth none of it. That horse just came in from out east, name is Franklin off the Mark, and not only is he not sound, he’s never been in an international competition in his life. I don’t know how you expected to get away with this, Travis. You must have known you would have been found out. And trust me when I say this, all your horses will be tested. I don’t foresee you having much of a career in this world going forward.”
“What the fuck do you know?” Travis breaks in. “You don’t know this horse.”
“If you would treat your people better, Travis, they might be more loyal.”
I look from Reed to Travis, then back to Reed.
“How do you know?” I ask, because from the way Reed’s talking he’s one hundred percent sure of his words.
He hesitates, looking into my eyes, then turns back to Travis. “The groom you sent over to pick up Ruby. Bethany Thompson? Yeah, she’s an old friend. Seems you don’t treat your people very well, nor your horses. She was with you when you loaded up Franklin here as well. Watched you pump him full of sedatives and painkillers before you put him on the trailer, then sent her over to pick up Ruby. He didn’t react the way you wanted him to, did he? Sedatives have the opposite effect in some horses, you should know that, but you’re too greedy to care. How much did you make off the sale of Ruby and then selling them this horse? Netted yourself close to a million didn’t you?”
Reed steps to within a foot of my father, who has steam blasting out of his ears.
My dad glares at Reed as he speaks, jabbing a finger in the air at him. “You’re making this up. Travis said you were looking for an in with the family. You won’t find it. Travis brought Constance to where she is now and—”
Reed reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper and shoves it at my father.
“You don’t have to believe me. Take a look.”
Travis’s eyes can’t seem to find a place to light as my father quickly looks at him, then down at the open paper in his hand for a long moment.
“What is this?” My father grunts.
“This,” Reed leans in and points to something on the page, “is a stimulant. A powerful stimulant that is considered a performance enhancer. Raises a horse’s heart rate, pumps adrenaline through their system. Some horses jump higher and go faster when irresponsible owners choose to use it. Other horses, like Ruby, have a disastrous reaction. A reaction that could have killed her. And could have killed your daughter. I’m sure Travis thought it would get Constance a sure win. He was wrong.”
“That’s bullshit. I never—” Travis steps forward, bracing off with Reed, who hits him in the center of his chest with a pointed finger.
“This isn’t the first time, you asshole. The proof is right there. I had Ruby tested that day. I’m sure you thought you would show your shining new star to the world. Constance, the up and comer, under the tutelage of Travis Houghton, wins her first ever International Competition. What attention that would bring you. Endorsements. Backing from the Montgomery family. Constance was your golden ticket. I know what a doping reaction gone wrong looks like. I also know you’ve sold them this horse with fake papers.”
“Constance.” Travis turns. “You aren’t going to believe him, are you? You hardly know him, I’m practically family. Your father and I were just talking about things. How I wanted to be more than just your trainer, but as a gentleman, I wanted to talk to him first, but I think I love you.” Travis words are flat, desperate.
The whole scene is surreal.
Reed explodes and belts Travis in the jaw. My mother screams and Travis’s hands fly to his face, but Reed just turns and takes my arm like we are taking a summer stroll, leading me from the arena.
“Keep walking.” He says as I lean into Reed and flutter my fingers in a playful goodbye wave over my head without turning around.
C H A P T E R E L E V E N
Constance
“Oh my God.” My voice is like sandpaper on my dry throat. Those same three words again but I can’t stop it. The last few days have sapped me emotionally and physically. My brain is drained.
Reed is holding open the door on his old pick-up as I climb up and in. The raised voices from inside the barn grow as my father and Travis almost come to their own blows. My father is many things, but a cheat and a liar he is not, and he abhors being duped more than anything.
“They all can live happily ever after,” Reed jokes, gently closing the door.
I watch as my mother leans into the open barn doors. My heart breaks a little bit when I see the sadness on her face... She gives me the smallest of waves and a tiny, pitiful smile. I don’t even know who she is. I don’t know why she’s put up with my father the way he’s been all these years, but right now, I see a loneliness in her eyes that I’ve ignored for too long. She’s suffered as well, and I make it one of my goals to get to know my mother. To see what makes her tick and maybe even help her.
Reed hops up into the truck, keys the ignition, and glides the pickup down the long drive toward the main house and the gates of the estate. His hand comes over to mine, warm and reassuring as he turns to look at me, then back at the road.
“I need to ask you something.” His voice is serious, and after everything that has happened I don’t think I could take another blow right now.
I don’t want to care this much this fast, but I cannot deny this strange connection I’ve had to him since that moment we looked at each other in the ring. I didn’t know these kinds of feelings were possible, and now I can’t stop them. I know what I want to call them, but I’m afraid.
“What?”
He slows the truck to a stop in front of the house. The lights are still glowing from many of the leaded-glass windows that decorate the front of the hundred-year-old Tudor mansion.
“I’m a man that believes in instinct. I know what I know. I also know I’m scared shitless around you.”
A wave of shock courses through me as he squeezes my hand.
“Me? You’re scared of me? Why?”
“Because, if you aren’t feeling what I’m feeling. If this,” another gentle squeeze of my fingers before he continues, “whatever this is between us, isn’t as real for you as it is for me, that is the most frightening thought I can imagine.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. His eyes are shining silver gray in the dim light, intensely searching my face.
“I’m not here to date you. I’m not here to hook-up or whatever the fuck it’s called. This is real for me. I don’t want casual. I don’t want ‘let’s see.’ I know what I want, it hit me like a bolt of lightning that first day. Once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky, you get this. And, my God, that first time I kissed you... I’ve never known anything like I know this. I’m all in, Constance. One hundred percent of me. I want you. I need to know where you are.”
Tears burn in the corners of my eyes, but I manage to keep them from spilling over by biting into my lips until I break skin.
“Well, I...” My head is spinning, searching for the words. “I know one thing. The only place I can think of that I want to be right now is with you. Back at your house. And that first time you kissed me? I knew something too. I knew you would be my first.”
He leans over and takes my mouth, his warm tongue swooping between my lips, his hand releasing mine and gripping th
e back of my neck, taking what he wants. His breath comes out of his nose hot on my cheek like he’s been holding it far too long.
I’m desperate for my heart to slow and my breath to come back when he finally breaks away still keeping us nose to nose.
“I’m your first, Constance. But I’m also going to be your last. And your only.”
He dots my face with kisses, leaving no spot untouched, then puts the truck back in drive.
“We’re going home?” The words tumble out as natural as the spring dew.
Home.
“Yep. Then tomorrow morning, you are going to see a friend of mine.”
“Who’s that?”
“Dr. Marcus Roberson, MD, Ph.D. He’s a neurologist. One of the best in the world. And whatever that was that happened yesterday, he’s going to fix it. If I didn't take care of you, that would hurt me more than anything, Constance. I need you to be okay, and he’s the one that’s going to help. So, tomorrow, 8:00 a.m., we’re going. Don’t even try to fight me on this.”
I bite my lip; his voice leaves no room for disagreement.
“Well, guess we won’t be getting much sleep tonight then, will we?”
He drops his right hand from the steering wheel, setting it firmly on my thigh, moving upward until he’s stroking the fabric of my britches between my legs.
“Or lots of nights in the future.”
E P I L O G U E
Constance
“She looks good.” Doc Mills gives Ruby’s nose a rub before he steps out of her stall. “Ready for another win I think.” He stomps some of the pine shavings that bed the stall off his boots and slides the wooden door shut. The metal latch clanks a bit as he slips it in place and locks it down.
“As long as she’s healthy, I’m not that worried about the win.” I smirk over my shoulder then whisper dramatically, my hand cupped next to my mouth. “But my trainer? He’s a different story. Win at all costs type.”
