Bluegrass Peril

by Virginia Smith

  The warm sunlight dazzled his eyes, but a cool breeze still held a latent trace of winter as it blew the scent of sweet hay into his face. He buttoned the collar of his denim jacket and eyed the fencing as he steered between the paddocks. The top plank on his left would need to be replaced soon; Rusty had done a number on it. Since he had read through all the files concerning the stallions’ diets, he knew the horse didn’t have a mineral deficiency. He was probably just bored. Scott made a mental note to spray the fence with Chew Stop and to check Rusty’s mouth for splinters.

  He halted the cart beside Gadsby’s feed bucket. The boys and Sam leaped to the ground as the gelding caught sight of them and trotted across the grass in their direction.

  “Wow, look at him!” Jamie’s eyes grew round as Gadsby neared. “He’s a giant horse.”

  Tyler propped a foot on the bottom fence rail and, with a hand on his hip, spoke with authority to his brother. “He’s not a giant. He’s regular size. Isn’t he, Mr. Lewis?”

  Scott eyed the horse. “He’s good-sized, but he’s not a giant.”

  Tyler leveled a smirk on Jamie. “Told you.”

  Scott opened the top of the bag and grabbed the scoop. “He is a movie star, though.”

  “Wow.” Jamie eyed Gadsby with awe. “What movie was he in?”

  Scott emptied the scoop into the bucket, then added a second. “Seabiscuit. It’s about a famous racehorse from a long time ago. You should ask your mom to rent it for you. It’s a good story, and you’ll see Gadsby.”

  “Gadsby. That’s a great name.” Admiration flooded Tyler’s voice as he gazed on the happily munching horse. His hand rose, but halted just outside the fence as he looked up at Scott. “Does he care if I touch him?”

  Scott hesitated. Gadsby was one of the gentler horses in residence at the Pasture, but no sense taking chances. “In a minute, when he finishes eating.”

  The boys nodded, and they all watched as Gadsby chewed. The cool morning air seemed to magnify the sounds of the horse’s teeth grinding the fiber. The sunlight gleamed on the smooth lines of his back and turned his coat a deep auburn.

  “Gadsby is what’s called blood bay,” he told the boys, “because his coat is that rich, red color. And you see the way his mane, tail and the lower part of his legs are darker? Those are called dark points.”

  Jamie, far more cautious than his brother, eased up to the fence beside Tyler, his gaze fixed on Gadsby. “You’re smart about horses, aren’t you?”

  Grinning, Scott ruffled his hair. “I’ve learned a few things. I’ve been around them since I was younger than you.”

  Two pastures away, Bull called toward them with an impatient whinny. Toward the front of the farm, Fortune answered. Everybody was hungry this morning.

  “I wish we had a horse.” Tyler leaped off the bottom plank and ran over to the golf cart. “Can I feed the next one?”

  “Don’t you want to pet Gadsby when he finishes eating?”

  The boy shrugged. “He takes too long.”

  Scott shook his head. The kid had the attention span of a Chihuahua. “Okay, let’s get moving. Yes, you can feed the next one.” Jamie’s mouth opened, and Scott spoke before he could complain. “They get two scoops, so you can each do one.”

  He climbed up in the golf cart and waited for Sam to settle beside him before releasing the brake.

  As the cart rolled forward, Tyler shoved a hand into the air. “I’m first.”

  “No fair!”

  Scott heaved a sigh.

  When Becky followed a much calmer Isabelle through the back door, a flash of fluorescent green whizzed within a few inches of her head and bounced off the doorjamb. Startled, she threw her hands up to protect her face. A blur of yellow fur zoomed by her.

  “Sorry, Mommy!”

  From across the yard, Tyler turned a guilty grin her way as Sam retrieved the tennis ball and bounded toward him.

  She leveled a frown on her son. “Young man, you’ve got to be more careful. That almost hit the glass. And me.”

  He ducked his head, then raced after the dog to try to wrestle the ball out of his mouth, Jamie running after them. At least they were both getting a lot of exercise today, running in the yard with Sam. Maybe tonight they’d go to sleep early.

  Scott left his position near the barn and crossed the driveway as Becky followed Isabelle to her car.

  Clutching her sunglasses, the heiress took a step toward him. “Mr. Lewis, I hope you’ll forgive my earlier behavior.”

  Scott shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “No apologies necessary, ma’am. I’m sorry for, uh, your loss.” He shot a quick glance at Becky, a clear plea for rescue.

  Hiding a smile, she stepped forward and took Isabelle’s slim hand in hers. “Good luck. Don’t forget, I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

  The woman’s smile wavered, but she held on to her composure. “Thank you. For everything.”

  She slid into the Mercedes, but before she shut the door she looked out over the paddocks. Then she directed a trembling smile toward them. “Goodbye.”

  Scott moved forward to stand beside Becky as the car backed onto the road and then pulled away. A bird in a branch overhead scolded when they walked beneath a thickly leafed sugar maple toward the boys.

  “I guess she was upset about Haldeman.” Scott’s statement held a question.

  Becky nodded. “She’s in love with him.”

  “With Haldeman?” Disbelief twisted his features.

  Sam raced by them as they reached the edge of the driveway, the boys hot on his trail, shrieking with laughter.

  “Why do you say it like that?

  He watched the boys romping in the grass. “I wouldn’t think Haldeman was the type to appeal to a rich heiress like her.”

  “Well, he did. And apparently the feeling was mutual.”

  Scott’s gaze slid sideways, skeptical. “I find that even harder to believe. If he was in love with Isabelle Keller, why was Kaci Buchannan dropping earrings in his sofa?”

  Tyler caught up with the dog and threw both arms around his neck to restrain him while Jamie pried the ball out of his mouth. Becky watched her sons, struggling to come up with a plausible explanation in Isabelle’s favor.

  “Neal wouldn’t want to be rude to Kaci,” she said slowly. “She’s too prominent.”

  Scott snorted a laugh. “You mean she’s too rich.”

  “Isabelle is rich, too. At least, her father is.”

  Scott lifted a shoulder. “Yes, but Kaci is beautiful as well as rich.”

  Anger flared on behalf of her new friend. At least, she hoped that was the reason. She still felt a bit of antagonism toward Kaci, the arrogant blonde.

  “Beauty is more than looks. Apparently Neal recognized that.” She snapped her jaw shut.

  He twisted his head to stare at her, surprise coloring his features. “She really made an impression on you. What did she say to make you defend her like this?”

  Becky watched the boys a moment before answering. Jamie held the ball high above his head, clutched in a white-fingered grip, while Sam sat patiently in front of him, his stare fixed on his toy. Finally Jamie threw it, and then wiped his hand on his jeans as the dog raced across the yard in hot pursuit.

  “I guess I just feel sorry for her.” She glanced at Scott, then away again. “She’s pregnant with Neal’s child.”

  Scott gave a low whistle. “That must have been a shock.”

  “Neal didn’t know. Isabelle was going to tell him the night he was killed.”

  “I didn’t mean Neal.” He pivoted on his boots to peer at her. “How much do you know about her father, Mr. Keller?”

  “I know he’s rich. He’s in the paper all the time.”

  “Yeah, and did you catch that article about him a few weeks ago?”

  Becky knew the one he meant. “One of his employees accused him of assault.”

  “That’s the one.” He shoved a hand in his jeans pocket. “Apparently th
at wasn’t the first time he’s been accused of slugging an employee, but nothing ever comes of it. I thought at the time that the guy making the accusation would probably drop the whole thing and get a big check in return.”

  They stood in silence. Sam’s excited barking sounded loud against the backdrop of a distant whinny from the pasture across the street. Becky battled guilt as she watched Tyler toss the ball high into the air. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? What a lousy friend she turned out to be.

  And what if Isabelle’s father was angry with her? If he hit his employees, was he the kind of man who would hit his daughter? Or her lover?

  “Whoa!” Scott took off at a run.

  Startled, Becky looked after him. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the tennis ball bounce inside Alidor’s paddock. Sam, well trained by Neal, didn’t go after the ball but stood obediently on this side of the fence. Tyler raced across the grass, his little legs pumping as hard as he could push them. From the far side of the paddock, the fiery stallion noticed the new object in his territory and started to run toward it.

  “Don’t go in there!”

  Thankfully, Tyler stopped when Scott shouted. He turned a question-filled face toward him, but then stepped backward as Alidor arrived at the tennis ball and blew a loud snort. The stallion tossed his head and pawed at the ball.

  Scott came to a stop beside Tyler and put a hand on his shoulder. His voice carried back to her. “Alidor doesn’t like it when strangers go in his paddock. I found that out the other day. Let’s see if we can find another tennis ball for Sam. I’ll get that one later, when there aren’t so many people around to upset him.”

  Jamie fell into step beside them as they headed toward the barn, but peeled off to come toward her. “I’m hungry.”

  Becky glanced at her watch. Eleven-ten. “You should have eaten more breakfast. It’s not lunchtime yet.”

  “Actually,” said Scott, giving her a sheepish smile, “I’m kind of hungry myself. You interested in grabbing a hamburger somewhere?”

  “Yeah!” Tyler ran to her side. “Please, Mommy?”

  Becky’s throat closed around any words she might have tried to force out. Was Scott offering to take them out? No, better not assume that. He was probably just suggesting a friendly lunch, Dutch treat. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford a restaurant, not even fast food.

  “I have peanut butter sandwiches in the car.” She didn’t look at Scott’s face, too embarrassed to claim poverty. “Remember our picnic at the park, boys?”

  “We’re gonna feed the ducks,” Jamie informed him.

  From the corner of her eye she saw Scott shrug. “Peanut butter keeps. And I think Sam would love to go to the park after lunch and chase a few ducks.”

  She looked up, and her pulse danced when he smiled into her eyes. This good-looking man actually wanted to spend his Saturday afternoon with her and her boys? Either they’d behaved themselves better than she could have hoped while she was inside, or he found her…

  No. She wouldn’t go there. He probably just didn’t want to sit around the Pasture alone all afternoon.

  She found herself nodding, and the twins let out a yelp of delight. How much could a burger cost, anyway?

  ELEVEN

  Scott pulled the truck into the Pasture’s driveway. He parked, then threw back his head and gave in to a jaw-stretching yawn. He’d always been an early bird, but five o’clock on Sunday morning was stretching the point, even for him.

  Somebody had to feed the horses, though, and they needed their morning medication. Life on the farm didn’t stop just because it was the Lord’s day.

  “And somebody has to feed the dog, too, huh, fella?”

  Sam lifted his head off the bench seat, and his tail thumped sluggishly. Even the dog thought five o’clock was too early. He’d follow Scott around on his morning chores, and then probably take a snooze in the barn while Scott attended church.

  He got out of the truck and clutched his jacket together as a cold predawn wind whipped it open. He ducked his head to shield his neck with his collar and trotted toward the house with Sam on his heels.

  He twisted the handle on the storm door, fumbling with his keys. Gripping the correct one, he extended it toward the inside door—

  And stopped.

  The inside door stood open. He stared at it, thoughts spinning. Did Becky close it yesterday? Yes, he remembered standing by the truck, waiting for Jamie to run inside and grab his backpack. When the boy ran out, Becky pulled it closed and locked it with her key. He didn’t open the house at all last night when he came back to the Pasture, just the barn.

  He stepped forward through the door to get a look at the handle. Yeah, it was scarred and bent. Somebody jimmied the lock.

  What could they hope to steal from the office of a nonprofit organization like the Pasture?

  Whatever they were after, they’d ransacked the place. The front room was a wreck. The couch cushions had been slashed open, as was the pathetic old armchair in the corner. The brochure rack had been thrown to the floor and the contents scattered everywhere. Odd, though. The television and DVD player were still in place. Not a random burglary, then. From where he stood he could just see a corner of the office, the floor littered with papers. All Becky’s work organizing the contents of Haldeman’s desk, wasted.

  Sam pushed past him and headed for the kitchen.

  “Sam, come.”

  The dog reluctantly returned. They stepped outside, and Scott unclipped his cell phone to call the police.

  The hallways of Grace Community Church were filled with Sunday morning worshippers. Becky kept her voice pitched low as she glanced over Amber’s shoulder to be sure no one overheard. “And after lunch, he spent a couple of hours at the park with us.” A steady stream of people filed past them through the busy church hallway on their way to the sanctuary.

  She felt like a teenager giggling over a guy with her friend, but a girl needed someone to bounce things off. After Scott insisted on buying their lunch at McDonald’s, she’d been going crazy trying to decide if it was just a friendly gesture on his part, or if she’d actually been on a date.

  “How did the boys act around him?” With a hand on her arm, Amber moved her against the wall to let a group of green-robed choir members pass. “Did they seem jealous?”

  “Not at all. Except of each other. They both kept trying to monopolize Scott’s attention.” A smile curved Becky’s lips as she remembered Jamie parading each of his men out for a personal introduction to Scott. “They obviously liked him a lot.”

  Amber frowned. “That’s not good.”

  “It’s not?”

  “You don’t want them to appear desperate for male attention. That will drive him away as quickly as a clingy woman.”

  Becky hadn’t thought of that. Amber’s logic made sense, though. Neediness in any form was a guaranteed man repellent.

  “I don’t see what I can do about that.” The crowd thinned to a few stragglers, and they headed slowly for the sanctuary doors as the first strains of the organ prelude reverberated through the church. “They are desperate for male attention, poor things.”

  Amber drummed her fingers on her Bible as they walked. “The next thing to do is get him alone. Let him see that you’re a self-assured woman, totally at peace with yourself and your singleness.” She peered sideways at Becky. “You can do that, can’t you?”

  At peace with her singleness? Until a few days ago Becky would have answered, “Absolutely!” But since Scott took over at the Pasture, her decision to remain single after her divorce five years ago was wavering.

  Becky met her friend’s gaze with a hesitant grimace. “Maybe.”

  Amber’s eyebrows shot upward, but her whispered response was drowned out by the organ’s chords. As they entered the sanctuary they passed the acolyte, a cherub-faced girl in white who stood like a statue, holding the candlelighter for an usher’s match. Becky followed Amber down the center aisle to slip into a half-e
mpty pew on the left.

  Becky placed her purse beside her feet and settled onto the hard pew. She leaned over and whispered in Amber’s ear. “Where’s Jeff? I thought he’d be saving us a seat.”

  “He got called in to work this morning. A robbery or something.”

  Becky nodded, then faced the front of the sanctuary. Something else she’d spent a considerable amount of time considering last night was whether or not to tell Jeff this morning about Isabelle Keller. The decision to report Kaci Buchanan had been a no-brainer. No matter what Scott said, Kaci’s visit to the Pasture for that earring looked suspicious.

  The choir filed into the loft from a door to the right of the baptistry. A sudden swell of the organ’s music indicated the end of the prelude. Beside her, Amber picked up two hymnals from the pew in front of them and handed one to Becky with a smile. Becky nodded her thanks and flipped the book open, her thoughts far from the morning’s worship service.

  Isabelle’s visit, on the other hand, was a perfectly natural move for a grief-stricken woman. Nothing at all of interest for the police.

  Even so, she felt a flood of relief at Jeff’s absence this morning.

  Scott shifted on the seat cushion as the screen behind Pastor Greg’s head changed to display his third and, hopefully, final sermon point. The man next to him glanced his way, and Scott flashed an apologetic smile. He couldn’t force himself to concentrate on the message this morning, but at least he could sit quietly so he didn’t distract others.

  He should probably have stayed at the Pasture while the police combed through the house. But he’d answered all their questions as best he could, then they shooed him away. After the horses had been fed and doctored, there wasn’t much for him to do except stand around in the barn and watch the stream of police officers going in and out of the house. When Trooper Whitley told him he might as well go home, he’d jumped at the chance to leave. A good worship service was just what he needed today.