Fate's Intervention

by Barbara Woster

  The thought of owning White Star free and clear made him pause for a moment, but only for a fraction of a second. He sure was going to miss the mighty stallion when Stanharbor sold it at the auction, but the idea of being shackled to Elizabeth Stanharbor for the rest of his life . . . he shuddered and quickly came to his senses. Maybe if he was lucky, he could purchase White Star as his personal mount. Still, not letting it sell to a stable that needed a good stud would be selfish. White Star was excellent stud quality; however, if he did manage to obtain the superb beast, it wouldn’t be through a marriage to Elizabeth Stanharbor.

  “I’m not of a mind to marry again, so with my sincerest regrets I’m going to have to turn down that handsome offer. This is simply one time your daughter isn’t going to be able to get something she wants.”

  “Well, like I said, son,” Stanharbor pushed, “There isn’t any reason to rush into a decision of such importance, so why don’t you simply think it over and you can give me your answer when we reach Lander?”

  Matthew groaned inwardly. As far as dense went, the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. Matthew had made his decision however, and the only thing that Stanharbor was getting from him when they reached Lander was his letter of resignation. He only hoped he could find gainful employment from someone at the auction, without a letter of recommendation.

  Damn!

  “So,” Stanharbor said after a few more minutes, “didn’t know you’d been married before. What happened to your wife?”

  “A carriage accident took away my wife and two sons,” he said, and realized that he didn’t feel like the memory was ripping his heart from his chest. Then he remembered how long it had been and shook his head in bemusement. Had it really happened a decade ago?

  “That doesn’t happen very often.”

  “No sir and it wouldn’t have happened at all if someone had trained the horses properly. The man who sold the team to the carriage renter never bothered breaking them in properly. They were too skittish, so when the driver crossed paths with a rattler, the horses bolted, taking the carriage with it. Unseated the driver and then ran straight off a cliff without even slowing. It took two weeks before anyone found the bodies and then the sheriff had to pry the bodies from the ground – literally. The impact had driven them down a foot.”

  “Damn sorry to hear it, son. I guess that explains why you chose this line of work.”

  “Yes, sir,” Matthew said softly. “I wanted to make certain that no one else loses his or her lives to incompetence. I certainly can’t train every horse in the world, but the few I do train won’t bring harm down upon the owner’s head.”

  “How long ago did this happen?”

  “Ten years.”

  “And you aren’t ready to settle down again yet?”

  “Never will be, truth be told,” Matthew asserted, wincing that the conversation had turned back in that uncomfortable direction.

  “That’s a damn shame. My Elizabeth would make a mighty fine wife.”

  Matthew cringed. He seriously doubted Elizabeth would ever be mature enough to handle a family. She’d probably give all her children monosyllabic names.

  “Well, while I don’t normally care repeating myself,” Matthew said with a little more force, “That man isn’t going to be me, so, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll be looking for employment elsewhere when we reach Lander.”

  “Nothing can make you reconsider?”

  Matthew tilted his head slightly. Was that a mild threat he heard behind those words? First, his boss stares at him strangely and now his tone is less than pleasant. Surely, Stanharbor couldn’t be as rejection-conscious about his daughter as he was about himself. If he were, would he spread rumors at the auction that would prevent him from hiring on with another family? Lord, but he hoped not.

  He didn’t bother answering Stanharbor’s question. He’d already started collecting enough trouble. He turned his head to look out the window and gather his turbulent emotions.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to mount White Star and ride the remainder of the way,” he said after a moment. “It will probably be the last time I get to ride the magnificent animal again.”

  “If you marry my daughter, you’ll be riding that animal every day.”

  Matthew opened the door and whistled at Adam to slow. As soon as the carriage was crawling along again, he leapt to the ground. “I’ll see you in Lander, Mr. Stanharbor,” he said. “Would you like Elizabeth to rejoin you now?”

  “No. Let her ride,” he said.

  Matthew nodded and shut the door. “As long as she doesn’t try to ride next to me,” he muttered, placing a foot in the stirrup and pulling himself up onto White Star’s back. He glanced over his shoulder and winced when Elizabeth met his gaze, smiled, and dug her heels into the mare’s side.

  Without hesitation, Matthew snatched the reins from Adam and spurred White Star into a gallop. “Let’s see just how fast you can really move, boy, and if you manage to keep that mare from catching you, I’ll feed you six cookies when we reach Lander.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Marcelle walked around the stalls at the auction, admiring all the different breeds of horses that were available for sale. She loved horses. She had loved them from the day her father decided she was old enough to go to the stables without the huge beasts trampling her. Ten years of age. About three years too late, by her estimation.

  From that day on, she accompanied her father to the auctions and to their clients’ homes to deliver the steeds purchased. It was an exciting life and one she was hesitant to give up. If she married someone outside the horse circuit, then she could very well end up losing, not only her father, but her precious horses. Her entire existence. She shook the thought away before it bogged her mind down into a depressive state, but the thought that replaced it wasn’t much better.

  Normally her father would be accompanying her from corral to corral to examine potential purchases, but he was simply too tired. The trip had drained what little energy he had left. Even the cushioned seats in the carriage hadn’t helped any, so he remained behind in his room. She was worried about her father’s rapidly deteriorating health. How much longer he had with her was a mystery that the doctor couldn’t solve. All he could tell her was that her father was going to die within the year, but he couldn’t tell her whether it would be next week or in several months. If his increasing frailty were any indicator, it wouldn’t be too much longer. Another indicator was the fact that he was now entrusting her with the purchasing for Weatherman stables. Something he never would have done if he were in good health. A woman simply didn’t participate in business, he told her on occasion when she asked to bid or negotiate a purchase.

  Today, however, because of his continued illness, she was on her own. She couldn’t prevent the tremor of excitement that coursed through her veins at the prospect of making all the selections and doing the bidding today and slowly her mind retreated for the marshy mire of depression into the light of eagerness. She wanted to do well and make her father proud of her.

  A soft whinny sounded behind her and she turned.

  “Well, hello there, fellow,” she purred softly. Marcelle giggled as the horsed nuzzled her hand, tickling her palm with his big lips. “You are a fine specimen of horseflesh, aren’t you?”

  “You have good taste in horses,” Marcelle spun, startled. She started to say something to the man about sneaking up on people, but couldn’t seem to force any words past the lump lodged in her throat. She swallowed hard, but it didn’t budge. Wow was all her mind supplied. She stared at the stranger for a moment trying to steady her breathing and then her brain recovered its ability to reason, reprimanding her sharply about acting doltish.

  In her own defense, it had been years since she’d seen such a fine specimen of a man. If he were a horse, he’d be on a par with the great creature snorting at her side. Most of the men paraded in front of her had flesh that was within only a few years of deteriorating. This man
, however . . . oh, why hadn’t her father been able to find someone like this?

  He was taller than her five-foot-eight stature by a good six or seven inches and his skin was a deep bronze, which bespoke of many hours working out of doors. Splendid. No fop here, she thought. His dark black hair fell in gentle waves to his shoulders, but his eyes were what ensnared her mind. They drew her to him like nothing she’d ever encountered. It was as if there was a magnet behind the large blue orbs, pulling her closer. Fortunately, she had the maturity to resist.

  She smiled, and then turned back toward the stallion, outstretching her hand again to stroke his jaw. She may have the maturity to resist his obvious charms, but she simply didn’t trust her voice to speak maturely. At least not until all her body parts returned to an even keel.

  Matthew watched the struggle play across the strange woman’s features before she turned away and hoped he hadn’t made a blunder by approaching her. She was young, to be sure, but so young to never have received male attention? Young, maybe, but definitely old enough to have wed and popped out several children by now, surely.

  Still, she didn’t have the haggard appearance of a woman who spent time raising youngsters. Even his beloved Melody had aged beyond her years when she gave birth to his twin sons. Admittedly, though Melody looked as if she could fall apart under the daily strain of raising two active boys, her beauty never diminished in his eyes.

  This lady’s shock when he spoke to her, however, shouted inexperience with men. His eyes glanced over her body and he smiled approvingly. God definitely built her for a man’s attention, he thought, admiring the smallness of her waist and the curve of her hips. Still, if she was an innocent, no matter how old she looked, he reasoned, it was probably best to walk away.

  He should, but he didn’t.

  “His name is White Star,” Matthew said instead, placing a foot on the bottom rail and leaning forward to add his affectionate attention to those lavished by the lady.

  “You know this magnificent animal?” Marcelle was careful to keep her gaze averted. If she looked at him again, she wasn’t certain whether she could maintain the ability to speak coherently and couldn’t guarantee that her legs would remain a solid mass strong enough to hold her upright. As long as she kept her attention on the horse and kept her mind focused on its obvious high quality, she felt on safe and solid ground.

  “Hear that, boy?” Matthew asked, rubbing his hand down White Star’s muzzle. “She thinks you’re magnificent.” The horse whinnied and Marcelle giggled. “Yes,” Matthew continued, again addressing Marcelle, “I know this big hulking beast. I trained him.”

  “Really?” Marcelle forgot her dictate not to look at the man, and brought her gaze to bear on his. He grinned, and just as she feared, her ability to speak fled. She quickly glanced away. Stroking the horse with one hand, she gripped the railing for dear life with the other as her legs began to wobble.

  Focus on the horse. She repeated the mantra until her mind calmed and her legs stilled, and then breathed a sigh of relief as a feeling settled over her that she could possibly make it through this brief period of conversing with her dignity intact.

  She detached her other hand from the railing and stroked White Star’s muzzle determinedly, not that the horse appeared to mind. In fact, he looked as if he were lapping up every bit of the attention.

  “It couldn’t have been too difficult a task,” she said after a moment, pleased that her voice didn’t quaver.

  “What couldn’t have been too difficult?”

  “Training him.”

  “Why’s that?” Matthew asked.

  “He’s an intelligent animal. Even a monkey could have trained him.”

  Matthew started at that, “Surely you’re not suggesting what I think you are.”

  “And what would that be?” Marcelle said, her tone teasing.

  “That my abilities rank the equivalent of an ape?”

  “Monkey, not an ape. Significantly different really,” Marcelle said. For some reason, the ability she had to recoup using humor felt well. It irritated her slightly that all this man needed to do was look at her to turn her into a pudding head; so, if she could use her humor to unsettle him a bit, perhaps she could disrupt his calm as he’d done hers. Not very sporting she knew, as his looks weren’t his fault, but her rationale appeared to be nonfunctioning. “But, no, I wasn’t calling you a monkey,” she continued. “I was merely pointing out that this gorgeous creature has extremely intelligent eyes, so he must have been easy to train.”

  “Then why didn’t you simply word it that way?”

  “Not as much fun,” Marcelle said and smiled. She turned and looked at him then, finally finding her balance. Humor always managed to work for her. Yes, he was as gorgeous as ten of the stallions in the surrounding corrals were; however, he was still a man. She handled suitors weekly who were strictly interested in her flesh, she decided, so she should have no difficulty talking with a man, on an intelligent level, who appeared to be interested only in horseflesh. At least she hoped that’s all in which he was interested. Still, to his credit, he wasn’t gawking at her breasts the way most men did. That alone helped her relax.

  “So, you’re a little devil with a pitch-forked tongue, are you?” Matthew smiled.

  “No, not really,” Marcelle said. “It’s just a safeguard. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  “Not at all, but what’s the safeguard against?”

  “Men.”

  “Ah,” Matthew said, and both fell silent, turning their attention back to White Star. Matthew fully understood the need to safeguard against the opposite sex, since he’d had nothing but trouble with them since he was old enough for them to realize his existence. Still, what had caused a woman so young to build a self-defense mechanism so early in life? He wondered. He’d met women with reason enough – women that men had abused or women forced to make a living using their bodies because of difficult circumstances. Those women were leery of men and it showed in the very fiber of their being. They were generally uncommunicative and slow to smile. Not so this woman. She laughed easily and joked readily – although she did seem nervous about being this close to him. Perhaps it was just the kind of men she’d been acquainted with that made her uneasy about the entire male race.

  Her quick wit made him think of his wife, Melody. No! He quickly remedied. Melody hadn’t been troubled emotionally, and with her he’d found a perfect balance between friend and lover. He just missed that bond, that’s why his mind was playing at making a connection with this woman.

  He didn’t know anything about this lady. She could be like all the others he encountered. An empty-headed twit that used every means at her disposal to land a husband. His Melody hadn’t been like that. On the contrary, Melody wasn’t a spoiled rich girl looking for a husband. She was the spindly-legged, pony-tailed daughter of the stable-master where he obtained his first job at the age of eighteen.

  It took two years for Matthew to realize that Melody was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so he proposed. She’d been shocked, not realizing that he felt anything more for her than friendship. It surprised him, too. What surprised them both even more was how easily they bonded on their wedding night.

  Two years into the marriage, Melody gave birth to the lights of his life, Michael and David, his twin sons.

  Fate took them all away eight months after that.

  He’d been fighting off the opposite sex ever since. Battling against air headed rich brats who couldn’t care less about his standing in society. They wanted him, and they went after him with determination. It was just a matter of convincing daddy that he’d make a good spouse, without discussing the issue with him first, of course; and then daddy would make the appeal, like with Miss Elizabeth Stanharbor.

  Speaking of spoiled brats, he thought, when Elizabeth approached on the arm of her father.

  “Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Stanharbor,” Matthew greeted, tipping his hat. The young lady beside h
im stiffened noticeably and turned slowly. Her gaze met his briefly and flared with nervous mischief.

  “Well, hello again, Clifford,” Marcelle said with such an airy, high-pitched voice that Matthew visibly winced, “it’s such a pleasure to run into you again, and I see you’ve finally found a suitable wife.”

  Elizabeth sucked in a loud breath and blushed. Matthew grinned behind his gloved hand. There was definitely a history here, he thought.

  “Miss Weatherman.” Stanharbor’s stiff manner of speech, as well as his address, caused Matthew’s head to snap up. This was the infamous woman who had rejected the great Mr. Clifford Stanharbor. “Where is your father, and why has he allowed you out without a leash?”

  “Why, Clifford, whatever is bothering you?” Marcelle purred in a way that made Matthew’s skin crawl. “Not enough fiber in your breakfast this morning?”

  “Why, you . . . ,” Stanharbor took a step toward Marcelle, his hands outstretched as if he intended to strangle her, but Marcelle didn’t move an inch. Matthew quickly stepped forward and in between the two combatants, drawing Stanharbor’s attention away from Marcelle.

  “Whoa, you two. Whatever the matter is, it doesn’t need to come to blows.”

  “Matthew. As my employee, I forbid you to have communications with this madwoman!”

  Matthew bristled at that, but kept his demeanor calm. Especially since the lady in question was now eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Well, sir, while I appreciate your concern, I will not be in your employee after today, so I think that whomever I talk with becomes officially my concern again.”

  “What?” The outburst came from Elizabeth who hadn’t been privy to his resignation. “Father,” she squealed, “he can’t quit! You promised me that you’d get him to marry me!”