The Gift Horse

by Jami Davenport

  “Harlee, I’ll take care of the place. He doesn’t need to stay here.”

  “I can’t impose on you like that. Your teaching and training come first. It’s just too much.”

  Not nearly as much as Carson living up the hill from her. That was too much. The thought made Sam cringe. He’d probably attempt to rid the barn of dirt. “You’re leaving me alone with that man? Even worse, his sister?”

  Harlee grinned. She was getting way too much of a kick out of this. “He’s great with finances.”

  “I don’t care if he’s Midas himself. I can’t have him underfoot all the time ordering me around.” She’d see to it that he knew his place and stayed out of her business. After all, whatever game he was playing, he didn’t need a woman for anything more than a friend. “I’m not thrilled about this.”

  “You’ll be perfectly safe with Carson on the property. He might seem a little finicky, but he’s pretty handy when he puts his mind to it.”

  “Carson? Handy? We can’t be talking about the same guy.” Sam threw back her head and laughed. She doubted he knew which end of a hammer to use.

  Harlee just shrugged. “Cedrona is back on track. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “I’m happy about that part, just not the Carson-in-my-backyard part.”

  “He’ll be a great neighbor, wait and see. You’ll be surprised.” Harlee glanced at her watch. “I hate to drop this on you and take off, but I need to get back to packing. We’re leaving in a few days. Is there anything you need?”

  “Not that you can help me with.”

  “You have my numbers. You can call me.”

  Sam watched Harlee as she escaped from the barn and almost ran up the road. What was she going to do with Carson living so close and butting into her business all the time? This was a disaster in the making. She should have stayed in Germany and... And what? Been a groom the rest of her life? Maybe if she’d been lucky, ride a few auction horses for prospective buyers.

  Sam sighed. No, this had been the right choice. She had to face her demons and win. Someone knew something, and it was up to her to find out.

  Yeah, but she could have chosen a different barn.

  Her eyes slid to the foundation of the old barn. She was crazy to torture herself everyday with the reminder of that tragedy. Did people believe that coming back here was her way of doing penance and atoning for her sins? Except, they weren’t her sins. She’d known it all along. After those two phone calls, someone else knew it, too.

  Juan? Or was he being his usual paranoid self, and it had nothing to do with her. No one knew why she’d come back to the States, not even Burke, her closest friend. No one that except for an anonymous person on the other end of the line six months past. Was it the same as the person from a few days ago? If not, then there were two people who knew something.

  She had to find the smoking gun, that vital shred of information that would prove beyond any doubt that she hadn’t been responsible.

  She might be careless and messy, but never when it came to the horses’ well-being and safety. Never. Only on little things, things that didn’t count, like washing her white show clothes before a show or polishing her boots or spit-shining her tack or...

  “Samantha?”

  Sam whipped around at the sound of that familiar voice. A not-so-welcome ghost from her past stood less than three feet away.

  “Reliving old memories? You are a glutton for punishment.” The tall, blond man indicated the overgrown area that had been the focus of her thoughts. “I can’t believe you had the guts to come back to the scene of the crime.”

  “Hans.” Sam’s defensive instincts kicked in, and she backed up a step. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see if the rumors I heard were true. “I can see they are. Welcome to the area.” He smiled his smooth, cultured smile. His deep voice vibrated with the German accent he’d perfected years ago. She knew it was BS. Without a doubt, he was of German descent, had spent time in Germany, but he’d been born and raised in the US. While in his employ, she’d heard him speak in anger without a trace of an accent many times.

  “It’s a little late for that. I’ve been back for months.”

  “So I understand. I just returned from Florida—where all the best dressage riders and trainers spend their winters—so my greeting is as timely as I can make it.”

  He didn’t have to tell her what wintering in Florida meant to a dressage rider. It meant you were at the top of your game, rubbing elbows with Olympic medalists and heiresses. In Florida, a $100,000 horse was either a mediocre horse or a bargain. Judging from his bronzed skin and healthy glow, Florida had been good to him. The man didn’t look a day over thirty-five, though he was a good fifteen to twenty years older than that.

  “Well, now that you’ve fulfilled your duty, I have work to do.” Sam turned to leave, but Hans’ fingers tightened around her arm. She shook off his hand and glared at him.

  “Not so fast, Samantha.”

  “What do you want with me? Haven’t you extracted enough blood? You crucified me with our friends and clients, ruined my reputation, drove me away from my home, and took away all my business.”

  “I was emotionally distraught. I wasn’t thinking.” Hans grinned, that old grin that used to make her grovel at his feet for a little attention. Now she felt nothing but disgust. “I suspect you miss working with me. We were a good team.” Hans continued.

  “Sure we were. I did all the work, you got all the credit and the glory.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Still holding a grudge, I see.”

  “A grudge? You condemned me! I thought you believed in me. No one felt as badly about that fire as I did, but you couldn’t be satisfied with that, could you? You had to lay blame, drive the final nail in my coffin. You destroyed everything I’d built and worked for my entire life.”

  “You’re being over-dramatic. You could have stayed and taken the heat—no pun intended. Instead, you ran like a coward.”

  “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

  “Do I? I lost everything in that accident, too, Samantha, but all you could think about was your own losses.” His tone switched to its superior, lecturing mode.

  God, he’d lectured her one too many times. “I begged you to believe me.”

  He shrugged, as if her words were of no consequence. But then it’d always been that way between them. Hans had been the swan and she’d been the ugly duckling that never became a swan. All his swanky friends swarmed around him, invited him to all the right parties, and catered to his every whim. She’d stayed behind, caring for his horses and living with the knowledge that she didn’t measure up to his exacting standards. He never once invited her to go with him. He’d been ashamed of her, even though she’d been his star pupil.

  “I have work to do, Hans. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Are you asking me to leave?”

  “Would a boot in the butt be more obvious?”

  His blue eyes went from warm to icy in a microsecond, demonstrating one of his most “charming” traits. “Good bye for now, Ms. MacIntyre. I’ll be back. Admit it, you need me. Without me as your coach, you won’t make it as a rider. You don’t have what it takes to do it on your own. You’re too self-destructive and insecure. All the latent talent in the world can’t overcome your deficiencies.”

  “Thank you for that generous evaluation. Pardon me if I don’t pay you for it. Now, I think you should leave.” Sam’s fingernails dug into her palms as she clenched her fists tighter.

  “Do your new clients know about your penchant for carelessness? What about your employer? I hope their insurance is paid up on the horses and the facility.”

  “Go!” Sam’s voice rose to a screech. Her fingers itched to wrap themselves around that stubborn neck of his and wring some compassion into it. “Out! Now, damn it, before I turn you into a gelding!”

  Hans watched her outburst without emotion and raised one perfect eyebrow, remi
nding her of Carson. He seemed satisfied that he could still get to her. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I’ll be back, and it’ll be by invitation—yours or someone else’s.” Turning on his heel, he strode to his car without a backward glance.

  Sam watched him leave. She couldn’t have moved if she’d been in the path of a speeding train. His callous behavior knew no limits. She’d seen it over and over again with clients and working students. He slit her open and left her bleeding, but she wouldn’t allow him to deal a fatal blow. She was stronger than that.

  She couldn’t turn back time and stop what happened that night. Heaven only knew how many times she’d wished to be able to do just that. Not only had clients’ horses been killed, but she’d lost her beloved horse in that fire. Cipher had been her partner, her best friend, and her last link to her mother. A tear trickled down her cheek. Damn it. She didn’t cry. That was for weak-willed women, and she wasn’t one of those.

  Sam forced herself to focus on matters she could control. How dare he insinuate that she would be nothing without him? Six years in Germany with a top trainer had taught her a lot about riding. She wasn’t that same scared, insecure, naïve little girl he’d known and manipulated.

  Besides, she’d been back six months and managed to build up a moderately healthy business for herself despite the damage the fire had done to her reputation. In fact, several of her clients had been with Hans before he’d left for a winter in Florida. That thought gave her smug satisfaction, but it was short-lived. The man was a magician when it came to horses. He could hop on a plow horse and make it look like an Olympic champion in a half-hour. Okay, she was exaggerating, but not much. At one time, Hans had been a powerful ally. Now, he was her competition and possibly her enemy.

  No matter. She could do it without him. She’d make Gabbie into a winner. He’d see. They’d all see. But a small voice of insecurity nagged at her, the one Hans knew how to play like a fine-tuned instrument. What if he was right? What if she couldn’t do it alone?

  * * * *

  Sam heard a noise in the barn aisle. Feeling and behaving every inch the coward, she stepped back into the darkness of a stall in case it was Hans coming back for round two.

  She peeked around the corner. Carson walked down the aisle carrying a bottle of tequila. He almost smiled when he saw her. Her heart did something weird. If she’d been prone to such things, she’d say it fluttered, but that couldn’t be possible.

  “Who’s the guy pulling out of the driveway?”

  “Oh, him?” She dismissed Hans with a wave of her hand. “Just a former acquaintance and a local trainer. He came to welcome me back to the area.”

  Carson’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. “I don’t think it was a positive experience.”

  Sam shrugged and gestured at the bottle in his hand. “Is that for Juan?”

  “Yes, it’s my peace offering.”

  She laughed. “Is it a good bottle of tequila?”

  He held it up for her inspection. Sam stared at the label, which didn’t mean a thing to this country girl. “So, does that mean it’s good?”

  “The best.” He grinned, as if quite proud of himself. She felt a pinch of pleasure that she’d caused him to smile, even if only for a brief moment.

  “Juan will be pleased.”

  “He should be.” He met her eyes, and her heart did its telltale flip-flop. She cleared her throat and busied herself by sweeping the aisle. Carson dogged her every step.

  His grin grew broader and cockier. “Admit it. You think I’m okay.”

  Sam grimaced and tried to turn away. Carson put a hand on her arm and navigated her around to face him. She held the broom in front of her like a shield.

  He grinned. “Oh, yeah, you do. It’s killing you to admit it, but you do like me.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Well, it does make working together a little easier.”

  “Nothing is going to make working with you any easier, especially with you breathing down my neck 24-7.”

  “So Harlee told you the news?”

  “Yes, about an hour ago.”

  “I expect your utmost cooperation.”

  “Nothing less, sir.” Sam clicked her heels together, tapped her broom on the ground, and saluted.

  “Kissing my feet is adequate.”

  She considered telling him to kiss her ass, but he’d probably take her up on it just to be contrary. Why derail a good argument with a teaser like that?

  “I’ll need some background on dressage and equine facilities. You can assist with that.”

  Sam sighed. The only assistance she wanted to give was to assist him in leaving her barn. “Sure, when do you want to start?”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “No, not yet. I’m just finishing up here.”

  “Me neither. Let’s start now, over dinner. I’m starved. I’ll even treat.”

  “Carson, are you sure you want to do that? You must have other places to be.”

  “No. Not really. Why would I want to be anywhere else when I can be here trading insults with you?”

  She found it hard to believe that he didn’t have better things to do. Yet if that was the case, he’d be doing them, not standing in a horse barn with an expensive bottle of tequila and a cheap date. Of course, he hadn’t asked her on a date. He’d asked her to dinner for business reasons. She’d be wise not to read anymore into it than that.

  “Give me a moment to take a quick shower and change.” She leaned the broom against the wall and combed her fingers through her tangled hair.

  “I’ll wait in the car. I need to make a few calls anyway.”

  Sam took the steps to her apartment two at a time. Stripping on her way to shower, she left a trail of dirty clothes through the living room, hallway, and bathroom.

  The warm water did little to sooth the wild hammering of her heart. This guy did it to her like no other man she could recall. Jeez oh criminy. She didn’t need to be some lonely rich guy’s temporary entertainment. Yet, he was part owner of her dream horse and soon-to-be financial manager and developer of this facility. She’d be wise to cultivate a professional friendship with him. But what she really wanted was to cultivate something else.

  Her riding demonstration a few days ago hadn’t impressed him. When the new facility was complete in a year, she wanted to be the head trainer. Harlee and Jake had hinted that she would be, but nothing was set in concrete. She suspected Carson would have a say in it, too. There was also his sister. Unfortunately, Sam knew where she stood with her, and it wasn’t in her good graces.

  Fifteen minutes later, she slid into the passenger seat of his Jaguar sedan.

  “I’ve never known a woman to get ready that quickly.” He cast a quick look in her direction before starting the engine.

  “Well, you’ve never known this woman.” Sam pushed her still wet hair out of her eyes and did a quick check of her jeans and t-shirt. She breathed a sigh of relief that she’d grabbed from the clean pile, not the dirty pile.

  “Regardless, it’s a rare and admirable trait.” Carson raised one perfect black eyebrow and smiled, a real smile that reached his eyes. God help her, the man was just about the best thing in slacks when he smiled like that.

  This was not good. She didn’t have much experience with men in a romantic sense. She’d spent her life with horses and four brothers. Neither was conducive to a long-term boyfriend, which explained why she was reading too much into this and feeling like a teenybopper with a crush.

  “Where to?” Sam pictured one of those snooty places where there weren’t any prices on the menus and the waiter insisted you sniff the wine cork.

  “You decide,” he offered magnanimously. “I can be flexible and creative.”

  “But it’s your treat.” She could be magnanimous, too.

  “All the more reason for you to decide.”

  Sam considered that for a minute. All right, she’d take the pretty boy to a place where
he’d be a fish out of water and see how he fared with her type of people. “Have you ever been to Character’s Corner?”

  “Is that a restaurant?”

  “Of sorts.” She bit her lip to contain the wicked laughter that bubbled inside her.

  His quick glance betrayed his suspicion of her motives. She’d make tonight an unforgettable experience. Even better, just in case he was getting ideas about them heating the sheets together, this place would discourage him and, hopefully, her. Once he walked in the door, it’d be painfully obvious how little they had in common on a personal level.

  “Which way?” He glanced at her for direction. She’d give him directions, all right.

  “Hang on, pretty boy, this country girl’s taking you for a ride.”

  Chapter 11—Characters in a Corner

  The second he pulled into the parking lot, Carson regretted Sam picking the spot.

  The obnoxious twang of country music blared throughout the rustic old building and sounded like two alley cats fighting in a garbage can. The place smelled of stale beer and cigarette smoke. The tables were done in mud-brown Formica and the seating consisted of old wooden chairs with no padding. In one corner several bikers played pool; in another corner a rowdy group of young men cheered and groaned over a baseball game displayed on the plasma screen TV.

  Sam chose a table away from the action and plopped into a battered chair. Carson followed suit, not that he had any other options.

  “Hey, Sam, the usual?” The fat, balding combination waiter/bartender grinned at Sam, displaying his few remaining teeth.

  “Sounds good, George.”

  “Only the best for my Sam.” George scribbled on his pad and swung his critical gaze to Carson. After looking him up and down, he grimaced. “You ain’t gonna ask for one of them fancy microbrews, are ya?”

  Carson’s mouth snapped shut. George tapped his pencil on his order pad and stared at him with censure. Carson imagined what George saw: a man in a pristine white polo shirt, slacks with a perfect crease down the middle, polished leather shoes, and a Rolex watch. He squirmed a bit as he realized how out of place he must appear.