He knew she knew better than he, the uses she and Braxton planned for it. He would guess she meant the other uses, the ones of which they'd never spoken of. The ones that raised questions of privacy or maybe concerns of illegal uses. The device could be easily hidden. Added to a cell phone even.
"Portable veterinary diagnostics is what you had in mind, right?"
"Yes."
"Look, sometimes a piece of technology like this is used in ways the scientist never envisioned or wanted. It happens. The good uses for this piece of equipment far outnumber any deviant ones."
"I know, Pat. I've just been thinking about it more."
"Wouldn't be a good human being if you didn't, I suppose."
"Is there anyone on Braxton's staff who might be interested in the other uses? Someone you wouldn't trust with this project, Pat?” Ashley had known Pat since she started work at Braxton eight years earlier. She valued his opinion.
"Not many, a few."
"Why would someone steal from Braxton?"
"I don't know Ashley. Some men get tired of getting ahead the slow, legitimate way. They start looking for a quicker route to big money. Awful tempting, you know. Maybe they start thinking time is running out for them and the slow way won't ever get them all they need from this life. High cost of retirement, that sort of thing, you know?"
He spoke the words with a fervency that surprised her. She found herself stepping back. For a moment, she'd thought she saw a spark of angry resentment in his eyes.
"You have suspicions, Ashley?"
She paused, wary of him now. “The top of the list would be the new security chief,” she said.
The angry look fled from Pat's face. He was once again his amiable self.
"He's one of those jerks that get into security because they like a power position,” she said.
"Yeah, I noticed that. The kind that uses that power to manipulate and control others."
"And Michael Street?” she questioned.
"Street?” His look was speculative now. But his expression closed tight. “Aww, he's harmless.” He waved a hand.
She smiled at him. “I'm sure you're right.” She realized it was time to go on to another topic. She didn't want to cause Pat needless concern.
"Why do you ask?"
Pat hadn't survived fifteen years of top-secret tech work without developing a few reliable instincts and those instincts were screaming bloody murder now, she suspected. Perhaps she'd revealed too much. Now he'd be worried, too.
"Oh, nothing, really, I shouldn't have bothered you."
"Nonsense."
"Just some papers out of place and missing notes so far. That's all."
"Damn. What are you going to do about it?"
"I talked to the new security chief."
He laughed with irony. “No help?"
"No help."
"The new director may not be much help ether. He's a money man. Negotiating government contracts is his specialty. Security has slipped since he took over."
* * * *
That evening Reese gave Ashley a riding lesson on the old gelding. She'd bought the horse for Mandy but hadn't been on it herself. He'd encouraged her to try it. Mandy was with her grandmother.
Ashley and the gelding ambled around the enclosed square paddock.
Reese sat perched in semi-comfort on the top plank of the heavy oak board fencing.
"Softer with your hands, honey. Try not to let your hand go backward with each stride. Think of giving them forward just a little. Follow his mouth. But not enough to loop the reins. Pretend you're carrying a full wineglass in each hand."
He smiled when he saw a look of intense concentration come over her face. Ashley took pride in learning. So many years of schooling made her a natural student. She'd made more progress in the lessons he'd given her than most people made in years.
The horse helped. The gelding was a gentleman, smart, sensible and willing.
"I'd love to canter now,” she said, her face as eager as Mandy's. She'd just begun to master the more difficult gait to sit.
"The word is lope for a cow horse, honey. Pick up the lope and ride two slow circles, one each direction."
"Stingy,” she said.
He smiled patiently at her. He didn't want her to lose balance and fall while she was learning. It might turn her off riding forever.
"Take it slow, lady.” He smiled. He seemed to always be saying those words to Ashley.
"You always tell me that."
Just as Kernel picked up the smooth loping gait, a roar of sound came from over their heads. A helicopter going over, low and fast. The transparent exoskeleton gave the appearance of a flying insect.
"Damn thing is way too low,” Reese mumbled.
The pilot was in trouble.
"Shorten your reins, honey,” Reese shouted, striding to her at a fast clip. She'd never hear him above the shattering noise of the chopper blades.
The horse flicked his ears back and forth and opened his large eyes wide. He was concerned, but thank God he didn't bolt and run off as Reese half expected any horse to do.
As he watched, Ashley adjusted the reins to emergency length, just as he'd shown her.
"Thank God,” he whispered.
The gelding came to a square halt and awaited further instructions. And earned a home with Reese for the rest of his life.
The intrusive sound droned on for long minutes, the helicopter close enough he could see the colors. Finally, the pilot gained control and pulled up and away, receding into the distance.
"I couldn't hear you. What did you say?” Ashley asked.
"Oh, nothing.... “He stopped speaking to draw in a rasping breath. This woman was his life. He had to find a way to hold her to him. “Just complimenting your judgment in horseflesh, lady."
"You like him?” She smiled. Her pride in the horse was clear. She gave Kernel a loving rub along his neck. “All that sudden noise and he didn't even jump. Did you see that?"
"Yeah, I sure did. I'd hire you to buy stock for me in a minute.” Not a very subtle hint, Caldwell. “You're a natural judge of horse temperament."
Ashley stared at the man. He looked so damn sexy rushing over to her like a movie star cowboy, with sleeves rolled up, exposing that sexy wolf tattoo he had on his bicep.
"Or very lucky,” she said modestly, but she was very happy to receive the words of praise and tried to tell him as much with a smile.
As she started off in a slow, round lope again Reese thought about the helicopter. He'd seen it before, never this low, but flying the same route, along the river, above Ashley's house and up past her mother's home.
Someone was watching this area. Or, maybe, watching someone in this area. Today nearly crashing the damn chopper had caused them to show their hand. What the hell was she working on at Braxton? When she came back to the fence, he asked casually, “Ash, does anyone around here own a helicopter? Near neighbors?"
"No, no one close by” she answered, puzzled. “Why?"
"Just that I've seen that one before."
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
"Around here?"
"It's been flying a regular route. Not as low as today, that was a disaster averted, but in a regular pattern."
"Do you think it could be connected to my work?"
"Yes, and I don't like it a dammed bit. Maybe I should go have a talk with Braxton's security people."
"Bossy male,” Ashley said, but at the same time, she was warmed by his concern and protective attitude. She nodded agreement to his plan. “Thank you. If you think it's necessary, I appreciate it."
"I don't want you and Mandy in danger. Sometimes family looking out for family prompts the powers-that-be to take a problem more seriously."
There was a quick flash of dark agony, perhaps remembered pain in his eyes that puzzled Ashley. “Reese, what is it?"
His gaze cleared.
"Nothing,” he answered.
* * * *
Reese walked down a long
sterile hallway leading to the office of the managing director of Braxton Institute. He decided not to waste his time on the security man who'd ignored Ashley's request for help.
He just might have to punch the man in the nose. No need to push his luck and land his butt in jail. Besides, the man had had his chance to earn his salary.
If he failed to find a more conscientious man behind this door, he'd kidnap Ashley and Mandy and head for Texas.
An hour and a half later, Reese came back through the door a little more settled than he'd gone in. Braxton's director had promised to go around the idiot of a security guard and assign a special bodyguard to Ashley. Someone from outside, highly trained, who could keep a careful eye on her and her work.
The director had been resistant at first, but came around when Reese pointed out the likely loss of revenue if Ashley's prototype really was stolen.
"Have any lunch plans?” He asked moments later from the doorway to Ashley's office.
She looked up from the papers she studied. For a minute, he could swear he saw love in her eyes. Or what he thought a look of love would be like.
The soft, dreamy look was gone before he had a chance to examine it closely. She cast her eyes down to her work.
"Lunch? No.” The idea appealed to Ashley. They would have a few precious moments together, alone. “I mean, yes, I would love to go to lunch with you, kind sir."
Waiting for her to gather her things, Reese's attention was caught by a large, framed photograph on the wall behind her desk. The odd, almost surreal colors, fascinated him. A synthetic work of art. Ashley followed his gaze.
"That's Peking,” she said.
"Infrared photo?"
"Yes. It's a Lansat composite photo.” She sensed his interest and went on, “This one fascinates me because it's so different from photos of other large cities in the world. Usually a city shows up in the infrared as a cold gray, but Peking is brilliant red."
"The detail is incredible."
"It's red because it's alive with plant growth. Every square centimeter of the city is planted in something vegetative. China is called The Mother of Gardens. Many of the flowers we know like azaleas, rhododendrons, and roses were collected there years ago."
"I see.” And he did see, perhaps for the first time in the total of five years of their acquaintance, he saw her occupation as real and viable, not just a cloudy thing that threatened what was to come of their relationship. The stark honesty shocked him. He'd been nowhere near the modern, forward thinking male he'd believed himself to be. The work she did was important, meaningful. In a global sense. Humbling.
"You love what you do here, don't you, Ash?"
She smiled a flash of pretty white teeth. “Yes, I enjoy it very much."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps in the hall.
"Hello, Ashley."
Reese recognized the man who'd been at Ashley's house. The one he thought of as the intruder. Michael Street. The other man eyed Reese, the cogs of memory slowly turning.
"You're the gardener,” he stated. The sleaze turned his yellow-brown eyes to Ashley. “You're not dating the hired help are you, Ashley?” The snapped words held some anger and tale-tell annoyance. He likely remembered the offers of lunch she had declined.
His syrupy, polite act had fallen for a moment. But as they watched him, Street visibly caught himself, his expression changed to curiosity only.
"Hired help?” Ashley queried, puzzled.
Reese answered, “Street. I admit to messing with you a bit the other day. Allowing you to get the wrong idea. Wanted to know who you were. I've known Ashley for several years. In fact, I'm her fiancé.” In spite of his training in social etiquette, Reese couldn't bring himself to offer to shake hands with the man. He kept them in his jean pockets.
He could see that Street didn't take the news well. His complexion blotched red as suppressed frustration and rage darkened his expression.
Too much reaction for a man who didn't know a woman well, Reese realized and stiffened. Street had had plans for Ashley. Personal as well as business.
"If you will excuse us, we'll be going now,” Reese stated. He couldn't keep an arrogant warning from his tone. Didn't try. “Taking my fiancée to lunch."
Ashley held her breath. Reese hadn't mentioned their supposed marriage in a long time.
A gigantic part of her silly feminine heart was pleased Reese hadn't forgotten his bargain with Mandy.
Maybe she could put off telling him the truth about the child until they were old and gray. Oh, if only she could keep him that long.
He hadn't brought up the subject of artificial insemination again either.
Coward that she was, she felt relief at each reprieve.
After all, she hadn't really said anything. Only lies of omission. The trouble with lies of any kind, was they tended to grow and corrode like salt on stainless steel.
He'd said he didn't want their child, she reminded herself. She'd had cause to mistrust him. She had to remember that fact.
* * * *
They went to lunch at the same restaurant that had been the site of their first date, a sentimental choice. They rode a glass elevator to the top floor, watching the city spread out below them. There were several dining rooms, each featuring the cuisine of a different culture.
Ashley barely noticed the elegant surroundings today, crisp white cloth on the tables, fine crystal even for the lunch crowd. Instead, she thought of the tall, sexy man with her.
After they sat, ordered and opened their napkins, Reese said, “We'll get married this month."
"So soon?"
"So late, darlin',” Reese drawled the words, his eyes spearing her.
She leaned forward. “Now just hold on a darn minute.” Ashley's heart pounded with hunger to have what he offered. Why not? Mandy would have her bargain for a father.
Reese took a deep breath and reached in his pocket, “I've waited a long time to give this back."
Dumbfounded, she stared at the black, velvet box, tears clogging her throat.
Reese took her hand and slipped their old engagement ring back on her finger. “I know I'm not giving you much time to think about your answer...."
She tried to mask her expression, unsure if she wanted him to see a look of longing on her face when she gazed at the ring.
"I'll be relieved if jerks like Street know you're mine and not fair game for their pursuit."
She laughed. “As if that's a huge problem."
He lowered his voice, his tone urgent, “I don't want children teasing Mandy anymore because she has no dad either."
She sat there staring at him, then at the ring in turn.
"She told you that?"
"Yes. She's trying to persuade me. Tug at my heart strings.” He grinned.
"She's a little scam artist."
"Do you want a new ring?"
She'd hesitated too long with her answer. She saw wounded pride in his expression.
"I've carried it around for four years give or take."
"The ring is perfect. It's not the problem ... I...."
"This is not going the way I planned it."
She shook her head and smiled at him.
"Not going well at all. You should be kissing me passionately by now.” His eyes were serious.
"Oh, Reese, thank you for saving the ring for me."
He folded his arms at his chest. “No problem."
"Are you sure this is what you want? We should talk more...."
"I'm sure it's what I want."
"There's something I need to tell you."
"Words won't change my mind. Hashing through the past won't change anything. It's what I've wanted for four long years. It's clear now. I should have come after you back then. Our separation was my failure."
"Maybe you should have come back, but I was to blame, too. I was uncertain of your commitment, mistrustful.” Ashley wanted to ask him about love, to demand that he tell he
r he loved her. How she wanted to hear the words. Four years ago, they'd never spoken of love either.
"Why do you want a wife?” she asked, with her tone as smooth and curious as she could manage.
"For God's sake, honey, I don't just want a wife, I want you. You."
He took both her hands in his.
Tears pooled in her eyes and an ache hit her stomach.
"You believe me?"
She nodded.
They ate their lunch in a stiff silence.
"Let's get out of here,” Reese said, and was on his feet offering her his hand. “I promised I'd get you back to work on time."
As they left the restaurant, Reese watched Ashley closely. He took her elbow but held himself tense and away from her. He fought against a need to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her. Right there in front of the busy lunch crowd. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Not yet. His reluctance to take the final step of complete trust and vulnerability was strong and well-aged with time.
* * * *
Later that day, back at Ashley's place, Reese relaxed on the sofa, watching cartoons with Mandy, when he heard a voice say, “Dad, Ashley needs you. Hurry to her. Now."
Reese launched himself to his feet.
"Gabe?” he asked aloud.
God help him, he wasn't even asleep this time. He was having a foretelling dream and in the clear sunny light of day.
The voice was his son. Gabe? He recognized it to have the tone and timbre of grown man. Sounded a lot like Clay.
Yeah. It's me, Gabe. You're not nuts, Dad. This is a lot to take on faith, but it's real. She needs your help. Only you can do it. Go!
"Oh, God,” Reese whispered, groaning.
Mandy wasn't watching her show. Her eyes were wide and alarmed. “What's the matter, New Daddy?"
"Nothing. I don't know. Need to hurry to see your mommy. Let's call Mrs. Carson, okay?"
"'Kay. Is Mommy alright?"
"Need to go to find her.” He tired to reassure Mandy with a confident smile. “To be double sure she is. That's all. Don't you worry."
Alarm in her eyes, she put a little finger to her mouth and contemplated a second. “Hmm, it's hard not to worry when the man's voice told you to hurry that way. He sounded scared. When angels get scared, I think it's okay to get scared, too."
"You heard him?” he breathed the question, shocked.
The Horseman's Heritage Page 13
