by Laura Moore
He was coming to understand that a lot of things made Max really happy: Twister, tractors, tree-climbing, and tools of any kind. And that was just the T’s. “Jesse and Doug will be, too. Nothing those guys like better than ripping out sinks and stoves.”
“So what will you do when the kitchen’s gone? I imagine the master bath’s next.”
He nodded. “The distributor said we should get the bathroom materials by the middle of the week. I’ll be okay for nourishment. I’ve got the cooler, and I’ll buy my coffee from the bookstore’s cafe or Braverman’s. If we time it right, we’ll be starting the other bathrooms just as we’re taking apart the master bath, so there should only be a few days where I’m driving in from Alexandria.”
“You’re welcome to stay at Rosewood. We have plenty of room. And even if Nonie has her spycam out, I can’t imagine she’ll be able to add much more to fuel my ex-husband’s ire.”
When they’d been upstairs lying sated yet still entangled in each other’s limbs, Jordan had told him not only about Jade, but also about her ex-husband’s remark. The news that Nonie’s tattle had reached his ears and that he’d had the gall to try and paint Jordan as some kind of loose woman still infuriated Owen. While he truly didn’t give a damn who knew about him and Jordan, for the husband to intimate that their liaison in any way made her a less than absolutely wonderful mother was outrageous. He only wished he could have been there to witness Jordan standing up to him. That must have been a beautiful sight.
“If I do come stay at Rosewood, first I’ll drive to Overlea with a very large roll of duct tape and perform some basic repairs on Nonie’s loose lips,” he said, pleased when that earned him a smile that lit her eyes. “Now, how do you feel about a little heavy cream with these strawberries?”
“That sounds delicious.”
Not nearly as delicious as what he planned to do with the cream once the strawberries were gone.
The following morning Jordan tried to limit her memories of the hours she’d passed with Owen. If she thought too much about how they’d made love, how he’d made her laugh, or how she could even now have been lying in his bed with his arms about her, she might have lost her patience and replied in kind to Jade’s noxious comments.
But when the horse van rumbled down the drive, she breathed a deep sigh of relief. Her relief was short-lived, however. Ned, standing beside her, said, “That girl better snap out of it or she can forget about getting any color ribbon in the hunter classes. Judges don’t like sourpusses.”
“No, they don’t.” Hunter judges based their scores not only on the horse’s conformation; its smooth, balanced gaits; and the correctness of the rider’s form, but also on presentation. The horses needed to be braided and groomed until they shone. Riders were supposed to look equally shipshape: boots polished, clothes clean and neat. Thunderous scowls and body language that fairly screamed “go to hell” weren’t what got a nice blue ribbon pinned to the bridle’s cheekpiece. “But Jade’s not stupid. She’ll shake off her foul mood before she enters the ring.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” Ned said as they walked toward the broodmares’ barn. “I realize she’s hurting bad and is confused as all get-out, but—” He didn’t finish, merely shook his head in saddened frustration.
“I know, Ned. It’s hard to sympathize when she’s lashing out at everyone. But she’s had a terrible shock.” She didn’t have to say more, aware that Travis had filled Ned in on what had happened. “Margot and I are going to talk with Stuart Wilde Monday afternoon. He’s spent so much time with her. We’ll see what he recommends.”
The barn lights were on, Tito and Felix having already watered and fed the mares. Low whickers from the mares, who stuck their heads over the Dutch doors, greeted them. Seeing the foals’ heads peeking curiously over the doors was a mark of how much they’d grown over the past weeks.
Ned and she split up, Jordan heading to Mystique’s stall while Ned went to Allure’s stall. Cascade and Grayson were good pasture buddies, and Ned wanted to give Cascade time to romp before Tim Mitchell arrived.
“Owen planning on coming over?” Ned asked as they led the mares and foals down the gravel drive before veering off toward the pasture.
“Yes, he mentioned he was free this morning,” she said as casually as possible, as though his name and the fact that he was her lover, and that she was falling deeper in love with him, didn’t make everything inside her quiver like the leaves of a willow tree in the morning breeze.
“Let’s save Cosmo for last then. He and Owen get on well. You know, I have a hunch that if we get Owen on Sava or Sky Light’s back, he might start thinking about buying Cosmo.”
Jordan bit the inside of her cheek. Ned was the only person she knew who made matches between people and horses. She wished Owen were with them, for she would have loved to watch that bemused look steal over his face and then listen to his incredibly tactful evasion. “I know Owen has a soft spot for Cosmo, but he lives in Alexandria, in an apartment, Ned. I don’t think his lifestyle is geared toward horse ownership.”
“He’s got Hawk Hill, too. He could have a number of horses if he wanted.”
“He bought Hawk Hill to sell. He buys and sells houses like we do horses.” She slipped off Mystique’s halter and stepped back while the mare spun around and trotted briskly away, Cascade cantering and squealing two strides behind her.
“And in our business we know some horses are keepers. For instance, we’re not going to sell Grayson, because he’s Stoneleigh’s last get. We’re also going to hold on to Night Watch.” Ned and Travis were banking on Night Watch, a beautiful black yearling, having the same scope and talent as his older brother, Night Raider, whom Travis had sold last year to help pay off the mountain of debt her father had left behind. “So why would Owen go and sell a fine property like Hawk Hill, especially when it’s so close?”
Ned didn’t bother to say so close to what or to whom.
What had begun as an entertaining and lighthearted conversation became abruptly less so. While Jordan would have loved to indulge in Ned’s fantasy that Owen would keep the house for himself, she knew that just as Owen loved different styles of old architecture and the challenges they presented in terms of restoration, he was equally wide-ranging in his appreciation of women. If she lost sight of this basic fact and deluded herself into believing he’d stay in Warburg, she would wholly deserve the inevitable heartache.
Shoving her hands in her breeches’ pockets she fixed her eyes on her field boots, as if the dew coating them were a rare and fascinating sight. “I don’t think Owen’s interested in keeping Hawk Hill,” she said, hoping he’d leave it at that.
“Maybe that’s because he doesn’t know his own mind or heart yet. It takes some people longer than others.”
Suddenly tired of pussyfooting around the topic, she stopped and looked at him. “Ned, you can’t expect Owen to fall in love with me.”
“And why not, Miss Jordan? Anyone with eyes in his head can see that you care for him—excepting perhaps the only person who should be looking extra hard. So I’m thinking that since you know how you feel, don’t you figure you should make him aware of it? Don’t you think love is worth fighting for?”
She smiled sadly. “I already fought that battle once and lost badly, Ned. I’m honestly not sure I’m strong enough to face the pain of losing again.”
Guessing that Jordan and Ned wouldn’t have taken any kind of a break, Owen arrived with bagels and cream cheese from Braverman’s. As the bagels were truly first-rate when still warm from the oven, they provided the perfect excuse to get to Rosewood on the early side. While a bag of warm bagels couldn’t compare to the unforgettable sex Jordan had surprised him with yesterday, he figured that he was making sure she had enough fuel so that later tonight he could return the favor.
He wondered what would please her most, make her fingers lock with his and her body shudder and arch in ecstasy. What would put that dreamy smile on her face when a
fterward she lay curled against him, the beat of her heart matching his?
He was waxing awfully poetic, but it was a fine morning, and he was going to get to spend it, the day, and the night, with a woman he really liked.
Ned was emerging from the broodmares’ barn with Miss Molly and her foal, Domino.
“Morning, Ned,” he called. “Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Enjoy it. Temperatures are supposed to shoot up this week. Glad you’re here. We need to bring Hello Again and Cosmo down to the pasture. How about going into the barn and getting them, and we’ll walk down together? You’ve put Cosmo’s halter on before, right?”
“Uh, yes, but only with Jordan watching me.”
“Then you know how to do it correctly. Take your time with him and put Hello Again’s halter on first, so Cosmo understands what’s happening. The halters are hanging on the stall door. I’ll wait right here. And you can give that Braverman’s bag to me. They smell mighty fine. How many did you buy?”
Owen passed him the bag. “Six. You sure about this plan, Ned? Maybe we should have Jordan supervise. Where is she, anyway?”
“You’re ready to handle the two of them on your own. I’ve been watching you with the horses. You’re smart and careful. And Miss Jordan’s busy with Tim Mitchell. Good thing you bought extra bagels.”
“What’s he doing here so early?”
His expression was inscrutable. “Eager beaver, I guess. Good thing he’s a horseman. He’s been helping us turn the other horses out and now he’s watching her longe Nocturne.”
Okay, so Ned wanted him to know that Tim Mitchell was comfortable tackling all manner of tasks around the barns. Bully for Mitchell. Owen was more interested in finding out if he was as much an “eager beaver” about Jordan as he was about the horses at Rosewood.
Five minutes later, Owen was leading Hello Again out of the barn, with Cosmo by his dam’s side, and feeling pretty damned pleased. Cosmo hadn’t even tossed his head when Owen fastened the halter. “I did it, Ned.”
“Course you did. Knew you wouldn’t have any problem. Let’s get going. I want to see how Nocturne’s going for Jordan. That horse is a treat to watch.”
Ned could focus on the stallion all he wanted. Owen was far more interested in seeing Jordan—the hours had been too many. And he damn well intended to find out just how interested Tim Mitchell was in her.
Jordan had the gray stallion cantering in a wide circle at the end of the longe line. A man was next to her, talking as they both watched the horse’s rolling gait.
Ned opened the gate and Owen followed him into the ring. Noting their arrival, Jordan slowed the stallion to a walk.
“Nocturne’s got great manners for a stallion,” Ned said.
He didn’t bother to acknowledge the comment. It seemed to him that Mitchell was standing awfully close to Jordan. Did he think that because the lighting in the large indoor ring was subdued that he was on a date?
Owen was not a man prone to jealousy.
Yet it took Jordan’s smile of welcome at his approach, her meeting and holding his gaze long enough to let him know how happy she was to see him, for the tightness inside him to ease and for him to recognize what had caused it.
“You’re here,” she said.
Even her voice calmed him, making him remember her whispered entreaties that he never stop as he rocked inside her, or stroked the sensitive underside of her breasts, or drew circles around her puckered aureoles with his tongue. Those two words simply uttered allowed him to shake Tim Mitchell’s hand when she introduced them and to note that Mitchell was fairly good-looking, tall, and sandy-haired with an easygoing manner.
Because while Tim Mitchell might know his way around horses, he hadn’t made Jordan cry out in pleasure as she climaxed in his arms.
“Jordan’s been telling me about the work you’re doing at Hawk Hill. Sounds like the place is going to be darned impressive, especially with the barn renovated.”
“That’s the plan. It’s a great house, and Jordan’s doing a terrific job with the interior, keeping the aesthetic of the house but also making sure it has all the comforts and conveniences of the twenty-first century.”
“I’d like to come over to take a look at it. Properties like Hawk Hill don’t come on the market that often.”
“Of course. We’ll be holding an Open House.”
“An Open House?” Mitchell’s brows came together in a quick frown before he nodded. “I guess that would bring in a lot of people, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, I’m fairly confident there’ll be a lot of interest in the property, as well as in Jordan’s new decorating firm.”
Tim smiled at Jordan. “Your phone will be ringing off the hook with people offering you new commissions before Owen’s even left town.” Turning to Ned, he said, “I was pleased to have a chance to see Nocturne again. I think I see a lot of him in Cascade’s gaits.”
He then proceeded to quiz Ned on Nocturne and Mystique while sticking like Velcro to Jordan’s side as they left the indoor ring. Owen alternated between amusement and annoyance at this not-so-subtle interloping. He knew he should have had to compete for Jordan long before now. That the dolts of Warburg were finally wising up was no big deal—as long as they also understood there was no way they were ever going to taste that mouth or caress that silky skin or breath in her delicate baby powder scent. Not if he had anything to do with it.
But what would happen when Hawk Hill was sold? a voice inside his head asked, and whatever amusement Owen had felt watching Tim Mitchell trying to impress Jordan vanished altogether.
JORDAN WASN’T SURE whether it was her conversation with Ned or Tim Mitchell’s comment about Owen leaving Warburg after the renovations on Hawk Hill were complete, but she couldn’t shake the melancholy that settled over her at the thought that her relationship with Owen would soon end. Stirring and passionate though their affair was, he would move on. And she would have to somehow forget how wonderful and fun he’d been and how he’d filled the emptiness in her heart … filled it to overflowing.
It only took listening to Tim Mitchell for her to appreciate anew how funny and smart Owen was. Though Tim knew a lot more about horses than Owen did, once they moved away from that topic, his conversation became dull enough to make her cross-eyed.
That Tim had decided he was interested in her was fairly obvious. That Jordan would ever wish to spend any length of time with him was doubtful. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the thought of letting him touch her the way Owen did. Impossible to imagine Tim dipping his finger into a bowl of heavy cream and painting a circle around her navel before slowly licking it off and then repeating the process on her hip bones, thighs, and everywhere in between. Owen was such a very gifted draftsman, she thought with a smile.
Owen was beside her at the pasture gate. They were waiting to open it for Ned and Tim, who were leading Mystique and Cascade up to the barn. She realized he’d been watching her when he said, “A penny for your thoughts.”
“I was just thinking of how much I like heavy cream,” she said simply.
“That so?” he asked huskily.
She nodded, smiling a little wider.
She would have said more but the two men were approaching, Tim already addressing her, obviously ready to monopolize the conversation once again.
But Owen only needed to brush the back of her hand with his for her heart to quicken.
After another hour and a half of looking over Cascade, Tim had finally left. But Ned’s patience in answering his every question and her agreeing to be nominated for a position on the hunter trial committee for the Warburg Hunt Club, where Tim sat on the board, paid off. When he said good-bye, Tim asked Jordan to let Travis know he’d be calling in the evening.
“I’ll tell Ron Hood you’re interested in serving on the committee. Having a Radcliffe involved in organizing the hunter trials again will be a real boost to the hunt club, Jordan.”
They
waited in silence until his car disappeared down the allée. It was as if they were collectively holding their breath, fearful he might turn the car around to come back and talk some more.
Ned spoke first. “Dang, Tim must have wax in his ears. I didn’t say a thing different today than I did during his first three visits, but he was acting like it was all news to him. I should’ve made a tape recording for him.”
Though ninety-nine percent positive Tim would be buying the colt, Jordan was too superstitious to declare it a done deal. “If he buys Cascade, all your efforts will be worth it, Ned. Even sitting on a committee with Ron Hood will be worth it. And as connected as he is, the news will spread far and wide that he’s got one of Nocturne’s first foals and that Travis is working with him to train the colt.”
“So he would have Travis train Cascade?” Owen asked.
Ned nodded. “Tim’s a good rider, but training a green horse is a big challenge. The idea would be to have him board Cascade here so Travis could teach him how to bring Cascade along.”
“Is that something Travis usually does? And who’s this Ron Hood?”
“Travis has been thinking of expanding our business by offering training and boarding to a few horsemen,” Jordan told him. “Ron Hood is Nonie’s brother-in-law. He has a daughter, Blair, in Jade’s grade. Let’s say that his dislike for my sisters and me is perfectly matched by our distaste for his daughter. Luckily I’m sure Ron will nix Tim’s nifty suggestion that I sit on the committee.”
“Well, watching the two of you go the extra mile with Tim Mitchell has made me ravenous. And as I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want a foal like Cascade, I think it’s only right to celebrate. Lunch is on me.”
“That sounds pretty fine, don’t it, Miss Jordan?”
They had fun that afternoon. Jordan wasn’t surprised when Ned managed to talk Owen onto Sava’s back. Clever as a fox, he laid it on thick about how far they’d fallen behind because of Tim Mitchell, then mentioned that it would be a huge help if Owen would cool the mare down after Ned had finished exercising her, so that he could hop on Night Wing while Jordan rode Sky Light. Then the broodmares would be exercised and they could start on the remaining chores. With both Jordan and him in the ring, Owen would be getting two instructors for the price of one.
