Joe rubbed his chin in thought. “So you’re telling me that this is purely business, nothing personal between the two of you? You’re merely learning to appreciate the differences in people?”
“Yes, sir. That’s exactly right.”
His father frowned. He didn’t believe a word of it. “If you’re not having a relationship with her, then why are you defensive about her?”
“Because she’s good at what she does. Bridget won’t give her a chance because she doesn’t have a big name, and she’s a little rough around the edges.”
“And you think you’re the man to soften those edges?”
“I think I can. The raw talent is there. She’s disorganized and needs some advice on handling her business in a professional manner.”
“Is that really your job?”
“As a responsible project manager, I think it is.”
His father didn’t comment. Carson didn’t have a clue if that was good or bad. “Dad, you gave me this project, now trust me to make the right decisions.”
“I’m trying, Carson, I’m trying.”
* * * *
Sam found Burke saddling one of his many horses. This was the part of her business that she truly hated. “Burke, your board check bounced.”
“What? You’re joking?” Burke busied himself with the girth.
“I’m afraid not.” Sam handed him the overdraft notice, which forced him to look at her.
He studied it briefly. “Obviously, the bank made a mistake.”
“Could you write me another one?” She desperately needed that money. Burke boarded four sale horses and two of his own. That was a big chunk of change. Those animals still had to eat, and she was paying for their food.
“Certainly. As soon as I’m done riding.”
It didn’t happen. Sam tried to collect again, and Burke couldn’t find his checkbook. He promised to get another check to Sam the very next day. Only the next day, and the next, and the next—no money, yet Burke showed up in a new pair of hand-sewn riding breeches imported from Europe. Plus, he was having a spat with his boyfriend and couldn’t discuss such a minor thing as economics after the trauma of the argument.
Now things were getting awkward, and Sam didn’t know what to do next. Burke didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed, nor did he sense the urgency with which Sam needed the money.
Finally, as a last resort, she approached Carson for advice. Their agreement stated that she collected the board and wrote one large check to Carson. He hadn’t asked for the money yet, but she hated having him think that she was being a flake. She’d never been late before.
Carson looked up when she entered. She’d made herself scarce and so had he the last couple days. He looked so good sitting there in his business casual clothes with his risky-business blue eyes focused on her.
“Any more problems with your intruder?” He shifted his eyes to the computer monitor in front of him.
“No, none at all. Juan’s been taking his surveillance seriously.”
“That’s good.” Carson tapped out a message on his computer.
“Yes, it is.” Sam tensed and waited for his full attention.
“Did you need something? I’m a little busy here.”
“Yes, actually, I do.”
“Well?” He looked up from the screen and met her eyes. A little twinge of excitement raced through her. Whoa, girl. It’s nothing serious.
“It’s business-related.”
“Okay.” Carson blew out a breath in obvious relief. What did he expect? For her to pledge her undying love?
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Then just start from the beginning.” He heaved an impatient sigh.
“It’s Burke.”
“And?”
“He bounced his board check last week.”
“For all six horses?” Carson didn’t seem too surprised.
“Yes.”
“That’s a hefty amount.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Well, just ask him to cut you another check.” In Carson’s black and white world things might seem that simple. It didn’t work for her.
“I’ve asked him several times. He has a different excuse each time. Right now his love life has him too distraught to consider such petty matters. It doesn’t make sense. Burke claims he has loads of money.”
“What do you think?”
She’d never tell him what she really thought. That he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. That she wanted to spend one wild night of abandon in his arms. That she wished they had a future together. That she was as lovesick as that horse of his. Instead she voiced the obvious. “I think he lives above his means.”
“He’s wealthy in horseflesh but cash poor?”
“Seems so. He certainly has a shopping addiction. He always has the finest stuff, never scrimps. Everything has to be perfect.”
“His extravagant lifestyle and out-of-control spending could explain his shortage of funds.” Carson’s eyes locked on hers. Her heart jumped into his lap.
Sam swallowed and cleared her throat. “If he has a shortage. Maybe he just doesn’t consider his board a priority.”
“He’s your friend. Has this happened before?”
“He’s perpetually late, but he’s never bounced a check. I’ve heard rumors here and there that there have been issues with other people.”
“Maybe he’s as irresponsible as my sister?” He smiled a wry smile.
“I wouldn’t go that far. Burke holds down a job.”
“You call that a job? He travels to Europe and buys horses. Do you think he actually makes a living from that?”
“Yes, I do.” Sam grouched, feeling defensive and irritated. Who did Mr. Tight Ass think he was anyway?
“Exactly how much do you know about that man?”
“A lot. I’ve known him for years. He’s been into horses for as long as I can remember. He imported Gabbie. Did you know that? My mother knew him quite well. They were good friends. After my mom died, he took me under his wing. He’s been there ever since, even when no one else was.”
Carson held up his hands. “You’ve made your point. So did you come in here for a reason other than to argue with me?”
“I was hoping that with all your entrepreneurial skills you’d have a suggestion on how to deal with this.”
“Give him a letter stating he has five days to pay, or he can make arrangements to move the horses elsewhere.”
“I can’t do that. That’s so cold.” And she didn’t have the guts to throw Burke out when he’d been her staunchest supporter over the years.
“It’s business.” He closed off from her. Looking nothing like the Carson she’d come to know, and every bit like the ruthless CEO.
Sam huffed. “Never mind. I’ll deal with this myself. I’m sorry I asked.”
So much for getting advice from Carson. She should have known better. Carson was more of the type that would go the legal route when someone owed him money. She couldn’t do that to Burke. Never in a million years. Burke might be a flake, but he was like family.
She’d find her own way to deal with this problem.
* * * *
Sam heard the commotion and came running out of the barn, fearing the worst.
“My stallion is loose with those mares!” Margaret Windemere, one of Hans’ newest clients, screeched like a cat with her tail caught in the door. She contorted her face in horror as her big, black pig of a Fresian stallion, aptly named Fabio, raced around the pasture. The large, middle-aged woman had been a royal pain in the ass ever since she’d moved her ‘baby’ into the barn last week. Fabio didn’t like the harshness of the lights in the barn. Fabio’s stall needed to be bedded deeper. Fabio needed to be fed at precise times. Fabio was sensitive to the construction noise next door. The list of complaints went on and on.
Carson stood next to Margaret, completely stone-faced. Juan, on the other hand, inspected the gate for fingerprints.
&nb
sp; “Is that a problem?” Carson watched the stallion chasing the mares around the field. The mares were squealing and bucking and kicking.
“A problem? Of course, it’s a problem!”
“Doesn’t look like he thinks it is.” Carson grinned. Sam looked away so she wouldn’t laugh. Her heart warmed even more toward the man, as if it wasn’t already warm enough to melt. He refused to let Margaret suck him into her drama.
Sam considered turning her back on the obnoxious woman and her equally obnoxious horse. After all, she wasn’t her client. On the other hand, she was responsible for the boarding operation in the old barn.
Sighing, she stepped forward, pausing briefly to roll her eyes at Carson. “Mrs. Windemere, I am so sorry. Our barn worker put him in the wrong paddock this morning, and it looks like he broke through the fence to get to the mares. I’ll take care of it right now.”
“If there’s one scratch on his coat, I’ll expect compensation for your negligence. Hans would never condone such carelessness.” She looked Sam up and down. “I know your reputation, and he’s going to hear about this.”
“Sam doesn’t work for Hans. She works for me. If you have a complaint, address it to me.” Carson stepped between them, playing the part of the cold, powerful businessman. Margaret took a step back.
While Sam appreciated his defense of her, she’d fight her own battles. “Actually, I don’t work for either of them. I’m a trainer here, and I assist in the management of the barn. You can address your complaints directly to me. I’m responsible.”
The woman looked from one to the other in contempt. “Regardless, I know how exacting Hans is. He’ll hear about this obvious breach in protocol.”
Rather than kill her, Sam swallowed her pride and anger. “We’ll take care of this right now.” She turned to Carson and barked out an order. “Carson, I need your help.”
“What about Juan?”
“I am inspecting fence for suspicious evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“I not put horse in this pasture. Someone else do that earlier this morning. None of my people do it. Fence has been tampered with. It was fine yesterday.” Juan pointed toward the broken board. “See board. Someone hit with hammer to make it look like it broke from horse. Not from horse, from human.”
“How do you know?”
“See hammer marks?”
“Maybe those are horseshoe prints? Maybe we should have the horses’ shoes inspected to see which one is the perpetrator?” Carson suggested with a straight face.
“Good idea.”
Carson shrugged. He followed Sam to the pasture. She put a halter on the stallion and flipped the lead rope to Carson. Fabio tried to pull away, but Carson held his ground. The spoiled stallion shook his head angrily and whinnied.
“What’s the matter, buddy. Aren’t you getting any either?”
Sam shot him a scathing look. “Put him back in his stall for now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sam stalked off to find some materials to repair the broken fence and returned with everything she needed. Struggling with the twelve-foot board, she attempted to hold it while she pounded the nails. It slipped out of place.
She glanced around for Juan, but he’d predictably disappeared.
Carson leaned against his fancy truck and watched with detached interest. He crossed one ankle over the other and stretched his arms along the hood of the spotless pickup. She’d be damned if she’d ask him for help. Using her body to pin the board in place, she held the hammer in one hand. Her foot slipped in the mud, and she fell to her knees.
The mud made a sucking sound as she hauled herself back to her feet. A husky chuckle caused her to jerk her head around. The insufferable man looked away, but she caught his smile. Damn him. The smug, arrogant, rich, spoiled, obnoxious testosterone-driven hunk of flesh. Fine. Let him make a fool out of himself. He’d probably never pounded one nail in his entire life.
“Okay, pretty boy, are those muscles just for decoration, or do you know how to use them?” She relished the thought of insulting his manhood when he proved how inept he was at simple carpentry.
Carson raised one black eyebrow but didn’t change his relaxed position. “Please.”
“What?”
“Say please. Show some manners instead of your usual rude behavior, and I might consider it.”
She considered shoving the hammer down his throat or up his tight ass. “You’re stalling. You don’t have a clue how to use your hands.” Wrong choice of words.
A raw smile changed his harsh expression. “Oh, baby, believe me, I do. I really do, but I thought you wanted help with that fence.”
No man had ever moved her to physical violence before, and she wanted him to be the first. Carson’s long legs carried him to her in a few short strides. He snatched the hammer from her hand and picked up the heavy board as if it were a chopstick. “Hold that end,” he ordered.
Biting back a scathing reply regarding who was ordering who around, she held the board and waited for justice to prevail. Maybe he’d smack his thumb a good one. Unfortunately, the scales of justice tipped precariously to the wrong side as he held the nail and gave it three solid whacks. He took another nail from the can at her feet and repeated the process. In a tenth of the time it would have taken her, he’d nailed the board in place.
“What were you saying about decorative muscles?”
“Where did you? I mean...”
“I have the same grandfather Jake does. Remember? Where do you think Jake learned his construction skills?”
“Can you repair a sagging stall door or a leaky faucet?”
“Don’t push it.”
* * * *
Sam did push it. The next thing Carson knew, he was tackling a list of ‘honey do’s’ instead of tackling the paperwork stacked on his desk.
It was good for him to get out once in a while and actually do the kind of work that he usually paid people to do. As his grandfather used to say: Never ask someone to do something that you wouldn’t do yourself. So now he could show Sam and the workers toiling away on the new equestrian center that physical labor wasn’t beyond him. Besides, sweating off some of his frustrations felt damn good.
Carson wiped his brow. His thin t-shirt clung to his back and chest. When was the last time he’d ever perspired so profusely, excluding his regular workouts in an exclusive athletic club or having sex? Then again, when was the last time he’d worked up a sweat having sex? Shit, when was the last time he’d had sex?
He’d work up a sweat with Sam, no doubt about that one. He’d been thinking about that form of exercise a lot lately, and every time his partner was Sam.
Maybe he should just quit fighting it, and ask Sam out on a date like a normal guy would do. Even though she did work for him in a way, her livelihood didn’t depend on him. Anyway, she’d never be the type to sue him.
His physical attraction to her just wouldn’t go away. This whole situation was giving him a major headache. This particular headache was ongoing, and he’d be damned if he could come up with a solution.
* * * *
“Sam?”
Sam looked up from her organizer. She was making notes in it because Mr. Tight Ass insisted on checking her plan for the day like an 1880’s school marm.
“Dr. Matt says the test results don’t look good. My horse is out for the year, possibly forever.” Teddi choked back a sob. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this emotional. It’s just been a hell of a week for me.” Teddi sunk next to Sam on the saggy couch in the lounge.
“Teddi, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all so unfair.”
“I know. I’ll try to find a schoolmaster for you to ride.”
“Oh, Sam, you’re too kind, but you don’t know the half of it.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“I don’t know where to start. I put a dent in my car. I lost my purse. I broke an antique vase that belonged to my great-grandmother.
Then today, I get the news.”
“What news?”
“About the riding program. A developer has bought the property the farm is on. The program’s lease won’t be renewed for next year. They have to find a place to move all those ponies and horses that’s reasonably priced, close to Seattle, safe, and willing to accommodate the special riders in that program.”
“Oh, Teddi, I know what that program means to you.”
“Would you talk to Carson?” She wiped another tear and gazed at Sam expectantly.
“About what?”
“Moving here.”
“I don’t think I can do that. I mean, Carson has enough problems handling Bridget and the budget and the building; this isn’t something he’d be willing to take on.” Of that much she was certain. Carson was single-minded in his efforts to finance Cedrona. A handicapped riding program would add one more expense he didn’t need.
“As big as the new place will be, there’ll be plenty of room. Besides, Reynolds Corporation runs that San Juan Islands camp for emotionally abused children, so they have some experience with handicapped riding programs.”
“I’ll talk to him.” Sam sighed and wondered what she’d gotten herself into. Carson was going to kill her.
Chapter 24—Life Turned Upside Down
Sam slinked into the weekly barn meeting. As if Carson wouldn’t notice her, but a girl has to have her dreams.
Juan, Bridget, Carson, and Hans turned their heads to stare at her. Mr. Tight Ass glanced at his watch. His lips thinned into a disapproving scowl. He was in fine form this morning. “You’re late. As usual.”
Sam shrugged and dropped into a chair. She hated these meetings. She hated being treated like a child, regardless of whether or not she deserved it. Most of all she hated the look on Carson’s face when she didn’t meet his expectations.
“We’re discussing finances and business plans.” He used his no-nonsense businessman voice. She was in real deep manure, but it just made her all the more defensive.
“Sounds like a fun time.” Sam grouched. This was not how she wanted to spend her morning. She was already cranky about Teddi’s injured horse. “I have better things to do, though.”
The Gift Horse Page 19
