by T. J. Kline
“Gabriel!” his mother sputtered.
“I mean no disrespect,” he assured them. “But this information has made me realize that I will survive on my own merits, building my own fortune from my endeavors. It also means that I refuse to be guilted into a marriage that neither Stephanie nor I want.”
“Gabe?” Anna called from the front of the house.
“She thinks we’re announcing the opening of her new shop. Please, don’t ruin the surprise.”
His mother covered her mouth, tears misting her eyes as she reached for his father’s hand. But his grandmother arched a brow in defiance, lifting her chin as Anna came to the door carrying two of the smaller bags.
“I thought I heard you back here. I brought these.” The words had no more fallen from her lips when she tripped on the edge of the doorframe and tumbled into the room. Gabe caught her just before she hit the ground. She smiled brightly as she looked up into his face. “This time, looks like I ran into you.”
Gabe pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Still falling for me, I see.” He glanced up at his parents as he helped Anna stand and took the bags from her. “Mom, Dad, this is Anna Nolan.”
Before she could react, his mother rushed Anna, enveloping her in a warm hug. “Anna,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “I’m so happy to meet you.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, too,” Anna said as she gave Gabe a concerned look at his mother’s overdramatic response to a mere introduction.
“Okay, Priscilla, let the girl breathe.” His grandmother tugged at his mother’s arm, casting a quick glance over Gabe before giving him a sharp nod.
It was all Gabe needed to see to know that she would accept his decision. The situation might not be the way she’d planned it; but, in her own way, his grandmother still loved him. She would come to terms with his nuptials.
“If I’m not mistaken, Gabe, you promised me a fine glass of wine.” Gabe’s grandmother pressed her fingers to her temples. “I believe I need it.”
Chapter 27
“Anna, would you come up here, please?” Gabe asked, waving her toward where he stood with a microphone, in front of the pond in their backyard.
She rose, smoothing the front of her skirt, and walked to the front of the crowd. She’d been shocked to see so many people coming out just to hear the announcement of Anna’s plans to open Rosé. Local media had turned up, but she’d been surprised to see several photographers for San Francisco papers in attendance as well. Butterflies took flight in her stomach, making it twist and knot.
“Relax,” Gabe whispered, pressing a kiss against her temple. “I’m right beside you.”
She searched the grounds, her gaze falling on Stephanie standing close by. Her date for the event, Gabe’s business partner, Brandon, had an arm wrapped around her waist and the two seemed pretty cozy, making Anna wonder if something more than a friendship was developing between them.
A buzz began at the back of the patio as Wilhelmina stepped forward, regally acknowledging several members of the media with a nod as she made her way to the front of the crowd where Gabe’s sisters and parents watched. Almost imperceptibly, she gave Anna a nod of acquiescence.
Gabe had even invited Anna’s parents for the event. She’d told him that there was no need for him to do so, but he’d insisted that he wanted them to stay involved in her life, in their life. Anna’s eyes misted at the thought. Reaching for Gabe’s hand, her heart fluttered in her throat, making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. She was grateful that Gabe was introducing her and prayed her nerves would still before anyone could see her hands shaking.
“For those of you who don’t know this woman yet, this is Anna Nolan, the creator of Rosé.” He paused to look at her and Anna could see his unabashed pride and love for her in his face. His lips spread into a smile and she couldn’t help the throb of longing that pounded through her veins. She loved this man with every breath in her body.
“If you haven’t already seen her work or its incredible artistry”—he turned to indicate a square vase filled with orange and yellow pincushion proteas, lilies, orchids, and roses on a nearby table—“here is another example of the beautiful work she does.” Gabe turned to lift a bridal bouquet from another nearby table. “Anna will make sure that your event becomes life-altering. That’s what she did for me. You see, I first ran into her on the 101, quite literally.”
He paused as the crowd’s laughter filled the moment. Turning toward Anna, he held out his hand. She’d thought her hands were shaking before, but there was no hiding the trembling now. As if understanding her predicament, he held out the bouquet for her to hold. She wrapped her hands around the ribboned stems, letting the familiar weight of the flowers remind her of where she was, why she was here, and let the realization of her dream soothe her nervous fear.
“Since that day, she has completely changed my life. Before I go any further, there’s something I can’t wait any longer to do.” Gabe reached into his pocket and bent to one knee.
Anna’s heart stopped in her chest, and she was unable to catch her breath, the bouquet suddenly too heavy to hold.
“Anna Nolan, I love you. Until the day I met you, I lived a shallow existence. You gave it life and vitality. I want to be your partner, not just in business here in Sonoma, but in love. Will you marry me? Be my wife?”
There wasn’t a question in Anna’s mind as she threw her arms around Gabe’s neck, speechless.
“Does this mean yes?” he asked.
“Yes!” She nodded, trying to stem the tears welling in her eyes. “Yes.”
“Is he really doing this?” she heard one of Stephanie’s sorority sisters mutter from the front row. Wilhelmina shushed her immediately.
“My family is known for their legacy in San Francisco, but this is only the beginning of our own legacy, Anna. You realize that, right?”
He didn’t wait for her answer as his mouth crushed hers in a kiss that probably should have been reserved for a more private moment. But she didn’t care. Propriety was part of his old life, not their future. That was filled with honest emotions that overpowered social status. With hope and laughter that would outlast reputations and promises that were stronger than “old money” power. The love she and Gabriel shared was the only legacy she wanted for her future.
The
Horse Trainer
Chapter 1
December
It was still dark when Travis Mitchell finished up his shift as security detail at the Los Alamitos Race Course. It killed him that he wasn’t currently working as a horse trainer, but after refusing to follow his last employer’s instructions to “do whatever it takes to win,” he’d been fired and effectively blackballed.
He had no idea what his future held, but Travis was glad he hadn’t drugged the horse. Besides, Travis would bounce back somehow, as he always did. But the security job provided him with rent-free housing in one of the one-room trailers on the property and that, coupled with exercising a few horses, was enough to make ends meet. Barely.
“Hey, you son of a bitch, stand still.”
The curse echoed in the barn, warranting investigation as to who was in the nearby stalls. Few people milled around in the hours before dawn, mostly grooms and cleaning staff. Since most of these horses were valued in the high six figures, it was Travis’s duty to keep them safe.
He hurried down the aisle of the barn and several horses nickered as he passed. He ignored them as three loud bangs sounded a few stalls away. A big bay horse was tossing his head in agitation. Narrowing his eyes, Travis peered into the dark space, lit only by a few dim lights overhead.
“Damn, you ass!” A man jumped backward out of the stall as another loud bang sounded. “You mother—”
“Need some help?” Travis asked, jogging over. He stopped cold when a horse lunged at the doorway, snapping his teeth at the man who’d barely escaped.
“No, I’ve got it,” the man growled, turning toward him, reco
gnition dawning. “Oh! Hey, Travis, I heard you were demoted to working the beat. What’s next, groom?”
Travis recognized Casper Dolan, one of the most disreputable trainers on the track. Travis wouldn’t even let this man clean his horse’s stall. He wondered how Casper managed to convince an owner to hire him. The man was mean as snake spit and had a temper to match his wild red hair. Arching an eyebrow, Travis leaned his head to one side of the stall doorway to get a better look at the horse doomed to suffer this man’s “training.”
“Shit,” he muttered.
Destiny’s Dreamer. Travis couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Fallon Radcliffe, a woman with a small fortune like hers, would hire a trainer like Casper. He’d heard about the colt and his owner. This was her first real race contender, her first time entering the field with the rest of the big guns of horse racing, and she had no idea what she was doing.
Obviously, since she chose to hire Casper.
Rumors about the woman spread faster than speculations about her horse. As part of the San Francisco elite, Fallon Radcliffe was high society money through and through. And she looked the part. Beautiful, elegant, and practically oozing with sophistication. She looked like an angel and almost as out of place as one yesterday when he’d spotted her striding through the barn in her designer heels and fitted suits, her long, blond waves cascading down her back.
Dreamer banged against the door, hanging his head over and wringing his neck threateningly. “Hey, calm down,” Travis murmured, soothing the agitated horse as he glanced back at Casper. “How long’s he been like this?”
“Always. He’s crazy.”
Travis didn’t miss the way the other trainer cupped his right hand and reached back to adjust his pants. He was hiding something, and it was most likely drugs. He scanned Dreamer’s neck and rump, looking for the tell-tale wetness from an injection, but the horse wouldn’t stand still. A half-empty feed tub was on the ground and Travis dragged it closer with his foot, unable to distinguish anything but grain in the mash.
Casper waited, crossing his arms and glaring at Travis. “Since this isn’t your horse, why don’t you take a hike and let me do my job?”
Suddenly, Dreamer blew out a slow breath and groaned, his eyelids drooping as he hung his head. “Did you drug him?” Travis asked, point blank.
Casper took a step closer, looking up at Travis and shoving him backward slightly. The man had to be at least six inches shorter, but apparently he thought he could look intimidating.
“Get lost, Mitchell. Your advice isn’t wanted for this horse.” He shoved Travis again, but this time Travis didn’t budge. “You’re not a trainer anymore, just a cheap rent-a-cop.”
“Keep shooting off your mouth, Casper, and I’ll shut it for you permanently.” Travis took a step toward Casper, forcing him backward. “If I find out that you—”
“What’s going on?” A woman’s quiet and demanding voice interrupted him.
Travis and Casper both turned to see Fallon Radcliffe watching them, hands fisted on her hips. She waited for the answer like a queen with her subjects.
She was even more gorgeous up close. The sun was coming up, shining through the aisle of the barn and lighting her from behind, giving her hair a halo effect, making her look almost ethereal.
But she wasn’t like any angel he’d ever seen. An avenging angel, maybe? There was no mistaking the fact that she was pissed.
“Nothing.” Travis glanced back at Casper, a smirk spreading over the other man’s thin mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. “I was making my rounds when your trainer had some…trouble.”
She turned to Casper, her brow arching expectantly. “Dreamer was a little fired up this morning, but now he’s fine.”
Casper was lying. Any fool could see it, but Fallon chose to ignore the fact. Turning back to Travis, she smiled. “I appreciate your concern, Mr.…”
“Mitchell,” he offered.
“Mr. Mitchell,” she filled in. “But Mr. Dolan is my trainer. As a matter of fact, shouldn’t he be heading out for his exercise rider?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Casper reached for Dreamer’s lead rope and clipped it to the colt’s halter before leading him out of the stall.
Travis stepped aside, his arm brushing against Fallon’s. The sizzle of attraction broke over him. He cursed his body’s reaction to her. He needed an outlet for his pent-up frustration but, as tempting as she was, he could never get mixed in with the likes of Fallon Radcliffe.
“Again, thank—”
Travis cut her off as soon as Casper was out of earshot. “Don’t race that horse today.”
Her eyes popped open wide and her mouth rounded to a slight O before she caught herself. “What?”
“You need to scratch him. I’m not sure what Dolan did, but someone is going to get hurt if you race that horse today.”
She watched her horse exit the barn, dragging his feet slowly. His movements were far too sluggish for a horse about to run one of the biggest futurity races of the year.
“Do you realize how much I stand to lose?” She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“If you don’t, you’re going to lose more than your entry fee,” Travis warned, stealing one final look back at the horse. He sighed heavily, disappointed that this would probably be her colt’s last race.
Travis had seen it before. The horse wouldn’t perform if he was drugged and if he wasn’t drugged, he’d blow up the way he had in the stall. The colt would end up in a kill lot. It was sad but commonplace in horse racing. Travis shook his head sadly, resigning himself.
“Good luck today, Miss Radcliffe. I think you’re going to need it.”
Chapter 2
Good luck…I think you’re going to need it.
Fallon paced outside the barn, trying to get the security guard’s warning out of her mind. Or maybe it had been the look he’d given her that shook her to her core.
Or maybe it was because he was hot.
And he was. He wasn’t like the guys she usually dated. No, this one had a ruggedness about him. Despite his professional appearance, he had an air about him that was mysterious and intriguing. She felt like she was barely glimpsing the real man. It wasn’t like he was hiding, just choosing not to reveal himself. And his gray eyes reminded her of a lone wolf.
She shook her head at her fantasies. He was a security guard, and she’d bet money he wouldn’t be daydreaming about her hours later. She needed to focus on the task at hand—getting Dreamer into the winner’s circle.
She glanced at her diamond-encrusted watch and realized she couldn’t wait around for Casper any longer. She had to go get showered and changed and take care of a thousand other last-minute things before meeting her family in a couple of hours in the Vessels Club. She’d reserved a table especially for them. It was the first time they’d ever come to watch one of her races and she was determined to prove to them that she wasn’t a fool for wanting to breed racehorses.
As the baby of the Radcliffe family, Fallon had grown up in the shadow of her perfect siblings. She adored her brother and sister, but it was difficult trying to match the acumen of her vintner brother, Gabe, or the Midas touch her sister, Alex, had for restoring failing businesses.
Fallon breathed a sigh of relief as Casper came around the corner. “You look worried. Go, I’ve got things under control here. I’ll see you in the winner’s circle.”
“Are you sure? Was he okay this morning on his run?”
“Yes.” Casper waved her off, exasperated, barely humoring her anxiety. “Go.”
Fallon inhaled slowly, trying to calm herself, and nodded. Casper had already left to retrieve Dreamer from his stall for the race.
Hoping that her million-dollar appearance would mask her nervousness, she hurried through the throng of race enthusiasts and gamblers lining the railing, making her way to the Vessels Club as quickly as her Jimmy Choos would allow. She opened the door and was blasted by the hot air. It was a welcom
e sensation as she tried not to shiver in her silk camisole and jacket. Fallon stepped inside, searching the crowd of people for her brother’s tall frame. Instead, she heard a nasally complaint from her grandmother, Wilhelmina.
“Really, I don’t think that child could have chosen a more inurbane hobby.”
Fallon willed the blush to disappear from her cheeks. She swallowed, putting on a brave smile before approaching her family.
“Oh, you made it!” Alex leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek, her eyes rolling toward their grandmother. “We were about to head out to the terrace. We thought we’d be able to see the race better from there.”
“And there are fewer people to overhear Grandmother,” Fallon whispered back.
Her sister smiled and nodded as their brother, Gabe, gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, his other arm wrapped around his fiancée’s shoulders.
“The horses should be heading toward the stands. We’d better find our seat if you want to see them.”
“Yes, let’s,” Wilhelmina agreed, the sarcasm dripping from her tone as she peered down her nose at the railing below. “Because watching ill-bred clodhoppers throw their money away gambling should make for a delightful afternoon.”
The blush burned her cheeks again as Fallon saw several people turn and glance at her grandmother curiously. Fallon knew there was no taming her grandmother’s tongue.
Wilhelmina Radcliffe had been born into high society and married into an empire, wielding the power both provided her. She was accustomed to the audacity her wealth allowed, which she felt gave her permission to deliver scathing commentary with the authority of royalty. She saw no need to mingle with the commoners, and she’d made it clear that she felt Fallon was doing exactly that by racing horses.
Grateful for her sister’s ability to usher her grandmother out to the terrace, Fallon followed. Butterflies took flight in her stomach when she saw the first horse make its way onto the track.
