Jay was more than happy to leave. He jumped up and pulled the chair out as Carrie stood. Walking beside her through the restaurant, he touched her elbow and guided her around a waiter laden with a tray of food. Somehow, when they stepped out into the muggy June night, his hand found its way to hers. Her grasp was cool, her fingers long and slender. Another knot caught in his chest, and he felt like a sixteen-year-old on his first date.
But she was quiet. Too quiet. Jay opened the door for her, and she slipped into his battered Mustang, the one he had bought just a few days ago. Maybe he’d blown it with that stupid incident in the restaurant. Damn! Of all the rotten luck.
Climbing into the driver’s seat, Jay started the engine and revved it. The heady “vroom” sound pierced the night. Backing out of the parking spot, he twirled the steering wheel with one hand and stepped on the gas again, shooting out of the lot and into the flow of traffic.
What was he doing? Gunning his car like a high school kid? Carrie sat ladylike, hands folded in her lap, her lips in a tight smile. What kind of impression was he making? Suddenly he wanted to disappear into the floorboard.
Instead, he took her home.
Opening the passenger side door, Jay had his apology ready.
“Will you come inside?” she asked as she stepped out of the car.
Her invitation surprised him. He couldn’t get the words out and just nodded like a dolt, his nerves vibrating throughout his body.
Carrie’s house was in the older part of Louisville, Kentucky—a large, two-story wooden structure from the turn of the century painted a cool shade of blue. Inside the spacious living room with high ceilings and tall windows, she had decorated with the same cool blue, which found its way to the sofa and the throw rugs that scattered across worn hardwood floors.
“I’ll make some iced tea.” She dropped her purse on a chair. “If you like.”
“That will be fine.” Jay glanced at her as she went toward what he assumed to be the kitchen.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he strolled toward the central focus of the room, a fireplace surrounded by an antique mantle painted off white. Pictures dotted the mantle—Jesse as a baby, Carrie and Jesse, and Carrie on her wedding day.
Jay studied the picture. Carrie looked so young, but not as happy as a blushing bride should look. The white veil framed her face, showing the gaunt angles of her cheeks. She’d put on weight since then. The added maturity had smoothed her features, making her look even younger than the girl in the picture. This would not be something suitable to point out to her though, Jay reflected with a suppressed grin.
The last picture on the mantle must be her husband. Jay stared at it, surprised to see a man much older than he had expected. Tate had a serious look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a grim line. What was a man like who wouldn’t even smile for a photograph?
Yet he had been Carrie’s husband and probably had smiled at her with love. For a stark moment, Jay felt a stab of jealousy.
“Here it is.” Carrie walked into the room carrying a large tray with a rainbow-colored pitcher and two tall glasses balanced on it.
“Let me help you.” Jay took the tray and set it down on the coffee table.
She licked her lips, pulled a tiny smile and nodded toward the sofa. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” He perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa.
Carrie poured the tea into one of the tall glasses. “Sugar?”
“No thanks.”
When she handed him the glass, their fingers brushed briefly. The jolt of longing startled him. His face flushed hot once more. Trying to compose himself, Jay gulped the tea. A sprig of mint tickled the tip of his nose.
“This is good,” he said. “Do you grow the mint?”
“Yes, it’s refreshing on a hot night, isn’t it?” Carrie sipped from her glass and set it down on a coaster on the end table beside her chair.
Jay clutched his chilled drink. The sides of the glass began to sweat and so did he. What would he say now? All of his confidence had dissolved like a scoop of sugar in a hot drink. He felt young. But for heaven’s sake, she was just three years older. It might as well be twenty the way his tongue was suddenly tied to the roof of his mouth.
Maybe she sensed his discomfort. She appeared so cool, just as cool as the soft green of the wingback chair where she rested her head. She looked in control. So calm. Her eyes shifted as if searching his face for something. Jay bit his lip and offered a tentative smile. Their gazes locked once more. His heart began to beat double and then triple time.
Carrie took a breath. “Don’t be upset about what happened back there in the restaurant.”
“Easy for you to say,” he said with a toss of his head.
“Well, in fact, it is.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “You must think that everyone who owns a horse at the stable has a lot of money.”
Jay watched her, but didn’t say anything. Where was she going? She seemed to be apologizing to him when he was the one who needed to get down on his knees and apologize.
“It costs so much to board and train a horse.”
“And pay my salary.” Jay grinned, trying to ease the strain by poking fun at himself.
Carrie nodded slowly. “Since Tate’s death, it’s been tough. With his life insurance money, I paid off the house, thinking I could make it on my teaching salary if I didn’t have a house payment.”
She climbed to her feet and began to pace. Jay put his glass down on the tray and watched her. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his knees and grasped his hands together.
“I don’t know if I did the right thing. It’s so hard to know.”
“You just have to do the best you can at the time,” Jay commented, caught by the tension in her eyes and the pucker of her brow.
Carrie sighed. “It’s Tate’s business that has me troubled. I have a broker trying to sell it for me. If he can sell it within the month, I’ll have money to keep Doolittle for the rest of the summer show season. If not, I’ll have to sell Jesse’s pony.”
“Whew.” Jay sat back. He knew what it meant for a kid to have his horse sold from under him.
She turned to look at him, her face pale. “I don’t want Jesse to lose her horse, Jay. She lost so much when her daddy died. I want to keep her life as normal as possible. Losing Doolittle will break her heart.”
It just about broke Jay’s. To see Carrie torn up about her daughter made his heart wrench. He rubbed a hand through his hair. He and his mom had often been almost broke, but all Martha had to do was say something to Carter. The money for the braces or the senior prom date had always trickled in. Maybe his dad hadn’t been there emotionally, but money had always made a difference in his life. He’d wanted for nothing.
Carrie didn’t have that option. Jesse’s dad was dead. It was up to Carrie to provide for her child, and she was alone. For the first time in his life, Jay realized what it meant not having enough money. Ironically, he had plenty of money sitting in the bank. He could help out this courageous woman who stood before him, her wide eyes bright with unshed tears.
She seemed to shake herself. “The only reason I told you that,” she said as she came to sit down beside him, “is to let you know that I’m not one of the typical well-to-do barn mothers. Don’t let what happened tonight bother you. It doesn’t bother me.”
Jay rubbed his chin and surveyed Carrie’s face. “You were so quiet on the way home. I thought I’d ruined my chances with you, because I couldn’t pay for dinner.”
“I was just trying to make up my mind if I should tell you about my finances. I decided to tell you, because I was afraid you would be embarrassed about what happened. I don’t want you to be.”
Jay’s heart lurched. He swallowed. She had been concerned about him. He was touched and still a bit mortified because of what had happened.
“I don’t think I’ve been so embarrassed since I forgot my lines in a school play and ran off stage,” he admitted.
“You didn’
t?”
“Sure did.” Jay nodded, glad now to see the sparkle in her eyes once more. “I had a crush on some girl in the audience. I couldn’t remember a thing I was supposed to say when I walked on stage. That ended my acting career.”
Carrie laughed, and Jay joined her. Somehow, the tension was broken. The compatibility restored.
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
Carrie chuckled. “Oh, my. And what happened between you and the girl?”
“Nothing, of course. I heard through the grapevine she thought I was a klutz. I recovered though.” Jay’s gaze fastened on her.
“Jay, I can see you now running off that stage.”
“Hey, being from California, I still mourn the end of my acting career.”
“Must be tough,” she quipped.
“Not as tough as what you’ve just gone through.”
Carrie shrugged. “It’s my daughter I worry about.”
They lapsed into silence. Jay watched her every movement, the quick flicker of her eyes, the way she licked her lips. She was so lovely. So enticing. She held him in a spell just because of her nearness. He saw the gentle rise and fall of her blouse. He smelled the intoxicating scent of her lavender perfume. Slowly, as if in a trance, he reached out and touched her cheek, brushing away a tendril of blond hair. The texture of her skin was like fine satin. She lowered her gaze, her dark lashes hiding her eyes.
Jay traced the angle of her jaw and placed a fingertip under her chin. Deliberately, he lifted it. A thousand electric volts shot through his body, causing his fingers to move as if under a stranger’s command. She raised her lashes and stared straight into his eyes. Warning bells clamored in Jay’s mind. Slowly, he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers.
Carrie’s mouth invited more than just a simple kiss. Jay closed his eyes, losing himself in the pure delight of the physical connection. She leaned forward, and Jay shifted his hands to both sides of her face, holding her, kissing her, taking her breath from her body.
“Oh, my.” Carrie broke the contact first, sitting back against the cushion of the sofa as if exhausted. A hand strayed to her lips. She touched them, almost reverently.
Jay was jealous of her hand. He wanted to reach for her once more and draw her to him. He wanted more, so much more. He let out a long breath and reached for his glass of tea. The bitter liquid couldn’t douse the fire he felt, but it banked it like smoldering embers.
He cleared his throat. “I was about to apologize for that.” He put his glass down on the table. “But I won’t because I’m not sorry I kissed you.”
“Neither am I.”
Her admission sent shivers through his body. Jay drew his fingers through his hair one more time. “Strange as it seems, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Carrie’s eyes grew wider, like those of a deer caught in a spotlight. Now he realized his own confession had been a mistake. He didn’t want to scare her.
“Oh my,” she said again, and then she pulled herself up like the fighter she was. “I certainly feel attracted to you, but love? I just don’t know. It’s much too early.”
“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” Jay asked with a grin, hoping to ease the awkwardness he felt developing once more. “But it’s not as if we didn’t know each other from camp. We have a history, so to speak.”
“I don’t know. It’s been so long. I was married ten years. I’m just getting over Tate’s illness. This has hit me unexpectedly.”
“Me too,” he said with a nod. “Listen, Carrie, it’s not something we need to talk about now. I’m a little overwhelmed myself. Let’s just be open to the possibility, okay?”
“I’d think I’d like that,” she murmured.
Jay couldn’t believe she’d said that. He had told her the truth about his feelings, and she had admitted she cared something for him too. He was blown away—dazed because of the suddenness of the overwhelming love he felt for her.
Was this how it had been for Carter? This instant attraction to so many women? Was this how his father had justified going from wife to wife? Jay didn’t want it to be like that between him and Carrie. He wanted more. He wanted long term.
Jay stood up and put distance between them. He strolled toward the fireplace. Tate’s serious photograph caught his eye. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to quell his emotions.
“You said you have your husband’s business to sell,” he commented, turning around to face her. “What kind of business was he in?”
Carrie seemed less edgy. He’d done the right thing to give her space. Jay felt strange warmth as he watched her.
“Tate sold computers,” she said.
* * * *
Computers? The irony was like a stomach punch. Driving back to the barn, Jay thought about Tate Mercer’s retail business—selling and servicing hardware, setting up systems for small businesses and private individuals. It wasn’t something he knew much about. Preston Computers concentrated on producing software for large clients, establishing multi-user networks and large systems—all costing the customer huge bucks. Carter Preston had always been a big player.
After climbing out of his car at the farm, Jay stood a minute to let the night air sift gently around him. Fireflies twinkled here and there, their silent pinpricks of light seeming to mesh with the pinpricks of far-away stars. Only the high whine of insects and the occasional roar of a car on the nearby highway disturbed the quiet.
Jay sighed. He didn’t feel like going up to the efficiency apartment above the barn that Mary was letting him use. He didn’t know what he felt like doing. He was too keyed up, the events of his date with Carrie still revolving in his mind. He walked to the wooden fence that separated the driveway from the pasture and placed his hands on the top rail. In the distance three horses grazed, their silhouettes stark against the night.
Damn! He wanted to help Carrie and hated seeing her so worried about money and about keeping Jesse’s horse. His heart complained, thinking about how disappointed the little girl would be if she lost her horse. He had seen disappointment so many times in Gloria’s eyes and hated it when his sister was hurt. More often than not, her disillusionment happened when Carter didn’t come for an important event. Changing his father’s selfish ways was beyond his control.
Jay’s fingers clutched the rough wood. He wanted to do something for Carrie and Jesse. What could he do? Staring hard at the still horses, he couldn’t remember feeling so powerless, except when dealing with his father.
Always when he worked with computers, Jay had been in charge. His programming skills had made computers do what he told them to do. There was power to that kind of control—a heady rush to his ego. But he wasn’t a programmer now. Just a lowly groom. A groom who couldn’t even pay his dinner bill.
Damn! Jay slammed the wooden railing with his hand. For the first time, he regretted not having money. What he needed to do was buy Tate Mercer’s business.
The thought brought him up short. It made his palms grow slick on the knotty rail. What if?
Jay’s blood ran with ice as he let the open-ended question dangle in his mind. He did have money—a lot of money. It was tied up in California. He had set it up so he couldn’t get to it easily, but that could always be changed. Jay raked a hand through his hair. He needed to do something before the end of the month if he was to help Carrie.
Turning his back on the quiet pasture scene, he leaned against the fence and stared at the barn. He was where he wanted to be. He never wanted to go back to California—back to the rat race of Preston Computers—back to pleasing Carter. As he considered the consequences of his erratic thoughts, his breathing grew labored. He didn’t have to go back to Carter’s company. He just had to get his money out of the bank. Then he could help Carrie.
Selling her husband’s business meant Carrie would be able to maintain her daughter’s lifestyle. All Carrie wanted to do was make her daughter happy. All Jay wanted to do was see Carrie
happy.
What he wanted more than anything was to lift the burden from Carrie’s shoulders. He wanted to protect her—love her. That was the crux of the problem. He wanted to love her, but he didn’t know how except to buy the business.
He took a quick breath. If he bought the retail business, he must do it anonymously. Carrie would find out he’d been lying to her. He didn’t want her to know he was Carter Preston’s son and a millionaire in his own right. If he came charging in like a knight on a white horse, she’d have to thank him, and he didn’t want her gratitude. All he wanted from her was her love—for himself, not his money, faults and all.
Chapter Five
A small Kentucky county horse show
“Bump him back!” Mary called as Jesse and Dr. Doolittle passed by her as she stood on the rail. “Good girl. Now urge him on!”
Carrie gripped the wooden railing. Hot June sun pelted her, causing sweat to bead on her brow. Or was it just the nerves she felt watching Jesse and four other little girls compete on five-gaited ponies? Horse shows were bad for her health. She was convinced of it.
Horse shows and Jay Preston.
Carrie glanced across the show ring where he was positioned on the rail calling out instructions to Jesse when she passed him by. From his days in competition, he knew a lot about showing horses. Even at this distance, Carrie saw the flame of his hair and the confidence of his stance.
Her heartbeats matched the four-beat cadence of the horses’ racking gaits. She lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the sun. What was it about this man? He drew her into his spell. Shamelessly, she couldn’t get enough of him. Once again, she’d hung around the stable all week.
She had allowed him to kiss her. It had been sweet and satisfying, leaving her longing for more. At the same time, she had felt a surge of guilt. Was she leading him on? Was she lying to him? To herself?
When she had tried to ease his embarrassment over his lack of cash, she had been sincere. What did it matter that he couldn’t pay for dinner? It had been a simple mistake. She had revealed her money problems to let him know she wasn’t really rich like most of these parents. She didn’t want him to feel bad, that’s all. But her candor may have backfired. He was falling in love with her. It was flattering.
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