The Gift Horse

by Jami Davenport

  “She would have the most to gain from it.”

  “And Hans. I’ve talked to Burke. He has a few horses to show Lola that might be suitable. As far as Teddi goes, she can only afford the board on the one horse, and he’s out for months.”

  “Maybe she’ll find a generous benefactor.”

  “Maybe that’s breaking the rules.”

  “I never saw any rules. You sure as hell know, if Bridget can figure out an advantage, she’s not going to care if it’s fair or not.”

  “I’m sure she isn’t. But what about you?”

  “All’s fair in love and war.”

  “Fine then. One good turn deserves another.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” His dark head was moving further down her body, kissing and licking as he went.

  Sam forced herself to concentrate. “You owe me. Since you’ve set me up, I’m setting you up. Every year, my father and brothers and their families get together for a big picnic at a small resort on the Olympic Peninsula. You’re going with me.”

  “Why do I sense a trap?” He lifted his head and studied her, while his clever fingers did clever things to the sweet spot between her legs.

  “Because my brothers are ruthless and unrelenting when it comes to protecting baby sister.” She panted with desire, while her entire body tingled.

  “I see.”

  “Seriously, Car, I get hassled every time I go to one of these about my choice of career and all the money it costs. My evil stepmother leads the charge. She’s a mega bitch.”

  “I’ve heard. I need to meet this woman that’s unbalanced enough to want you as her bookkeeper. That requires a level of exactness and precision that you...”

  “Okay, I know. Enough already. She keeps books for Dad’s business and her crafts store. She wants out of it, and he wants to keep the business in the family.”

  “What exactly is your father’s business?”

  “Dad has a sports bar in Spokane. He bought it a few years ago after he retired from thirty years of teaching and coaching. He’s doing okay with it. My brothers work there off and on.”

  “Does anyone like your stepmother?”

  “Not me or my brothers. My father adores her. He doesn’t see the side of her that the rest of us see. She’s controlling, abrasive, and a fake. She makes Dad happy, though, so I tolerate her. I just couldn’t stand to be under her thumb.”

  “Sounds like a nice lady. About Teddi, find her a horse to finish the season. I’ll pay the board.”

  “I’ll ask Burke. He might have a sale horse Teddi could show and ride for a month. It’d be good advertising.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  “Find Teddi a ride?”

  “Well, that, too, but I had something else in mind.”

  “What about my family picnic?”

  “When is it?”

  “Next Saturday.”

  “Don’t you have a horse show?”

  “Sorry, big fella, but good try.”

  “Damn. I’m screwed.”

  “More than you’ll ever know.”

  “You win a few and lose a few.” Carson pushed her down into the pillows and worries about the future disappeared in puffs of dust.

  * * * *

  Brad flopped into the chair and propped his feet on the desk. Carson pushed his laptop to the side and studied his brother. Whenever Brad turned serious, he dreaded the outcome. “I’m here under duress.”

  “Yeah? Spill it.”

  “Bridget is concerned that you’re getting in too deep with Sam.”

  “So she sent you?”

  Brad shrugged. “Not my idea.”

  “Well, assure her that I’m an adult, and that I can take care of my own life.”

  Brad grinned. “Unlike her?”

  “Well, yeah. Since when has Bridget ever taken care of herself?”

  “Never.”

  “So you’ve said your piece. Anything else?”

  “How’s the construction going?”

  “Well, let’s see. Two subs quit this week because Bridget changed things in the plans three times. The project is out of money unless I can convince Dad to dump a few more bucks into it or find an investor.”

  “Who in their right mind would invest in an equestrian facility? They’re notorious for being black holes.”

  “No shit.”

  “Since failure isn’t an option, how are you going to pay for Bridget’s grand ideas?”

  “First of all, I’ve scaled the project back to bare bones without compromising the ability to hold large horse competitions on the grounds.”

  “Does Bridget know this?”

  “Not if I can help it. Even so, it’s still a money pit. Not to mention this therapeutic riding program wants to be based in the old facility, though I’m having difficulty locating the director.”

  “Not a good sign. But, hey, there might be a way to wriggle some money there.”

  “Sam and I are working on the grant angle. Mom is working on fund-raising. It would involve a long-term lease. We’d have to guarantee that the place would be ready for them by next June.”

  Brad glanced out the dirty office window at the huge, half-built structure on the other side of the parking lot. “Is that doable?”

  “It has to be.”

  “So Carson, what are you getting out of this? I’ve never been clear on that? What did dear old Dad hold over your head to get you to see this mess through?”

  “The brewery.”

  “You mean the brewery?”

  “Yep. That’s the one; that is if I can come up with the financing by the end of the year. I’ll need a large down payment to be a good credit risk. That’s where that damn horse comes in.”

  “And if not?” Brad scratched his arm.

  “Ed will sell it.”

  “I know he’s liquidating a lot of assets.”

  “He’s not well, and times are tough.”

  “Yeah, especially in logging and building.” Brad sighed. “What do you think would happen to it if someone else bought it?”

  “It’s across from both baseball and football stadiums. It’d most likely be knocked down for a parking garage.”

  “And what are your plans?”

  “I already have tentative commitments from a coffee roasting company, a few specialty shops, a bar, and a restaurant.”

  “You have this all thought-out.”

  Carson raised one eyebrow. “And that surprises you?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “But I need to start the remodel process within the year, or I’ll lose my investors and future tenants.”

  “You’ll find a way to get it going.”

  “That horse is my way. She’d better be worth what I hope she’ll be worth.”

  * * * *

  “A schoolmaster? Hmmm. Those are hard to come by, especially during show season. What is she willing to pay?” Burke propped one shiny black leather boot on the tack trunk in the aisle, pushed his designer sunglasses onto his head with a flourish, and regarded Sam.

  “She can’t pay anything. This would just be a lease situation through the show season. We’ll take care of the board, any vet bills, and show entries.”

  “So what do I get out of it?”

  “Burke, you are so self-absorbed.”

  He laughed, not the least bit put-off. “That’s what every one of my ex-boyfriends says.”

  “The horse will be shown by a very good amateur rider. That should increase his worth immensely.”

  “Well, let me think about it. I don’t really have anything that’s appropriate.”

  “What about Galahad?”

  “I have interest in him.”

  “What interest?” Carson interrupted, walking up to join them. He looked great in his faded Levis and t-shirt. When did he stop wearing those dang polo shirts and slacks? She didn’t know, but he looked damn good in a real man’s clothes.

  “I have a few possible buyers. I can’t commit him for
the remainder of the show season.”

  “Fine, we’ll just look somewhere else.” She expected Burke to change his tune at her hollow threat. He didn’t bat an eye.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. Really, I am.” He faked contrite. It didn’t work, not for her.

  “Not as sorry as I am.” She felt sick inside. Something just happened, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She did know that Burke was shining her on.

  “I’d help you out if I could, but business is business.”

  “I know you would.” Sam sighed; lying didn’t sit well with her.

  “Oh, by the way. Here’s that board I owe you.”

  Sam and Carson watched in amazement as Burke pulled out several hundred-dollar bills and counted them out in her palm. “Well, ta ta. I have to go now. I have an appointment for a manicure.”

  Carson watched him go. He turned to her, a quizzical expression on his face. “Did he sell a horse recently?”

  “No, not that I’m aware of. But he’s an agent for lots of sale horses, and not just in this barn, so I wouldn’t know everything he’s got his hands into.”

  “Hmmm.” Carson stared after him. Sam swallowed, trying to rid herself of that sick feeling in her stomach. Only, it wouldn’t go away.

  Chapter 30—Batter Up

  If Carson ever thought his family was bad, Sam’s family was competitive to the point of obsession. Her father, brothers, assorted nephews, nieces, and cousins finished one game to start another. So far, Carson had avoided the line of fire, but he suspected his minutes were numbered. They’d ignored him up until now because he was wearing a light blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt and nice slacks, not exactly down and dirty sports clothes. He’d intentionally picked his clothes for that purpose. He was clean and planned on keeping it that way.

  He asked himself more than once what he was doing here with Sam. The family seemed to assume he was a “real” boyfriend. He’d been grilled by each of the four brothers and the father. By the disapproving expressions on their faces, he didn’t quite measure up to their expectations, whatever they were. The stepmother, on the other hand, drooled all over him to the point of embarrassment. She was a climber, that one. Not the type Carson would have put with Sam’s good-old boy father. But then, who would have put Sam together with Carson?

  Not that they were together, at least not the way most people thought of together. He wasn’t sure what they were, and he didn’t want to examine it too closely. He had this morbid fear that if he did, he’d reach the frightening realization that he was in this deeper than the manure pile behind the barn.

  “Carson!” Sam called to him. She held a baseball bat in one hand, a ball in the other. “We need one more person for softball.”

  Carson rolled his eyes. He hadn’t picked up a baseball bat in years. He didn’t want to pick up one now.

  “Sorry, bad knees.”

  “Bullshit.” She crooked her little finger at him.

  “Put him in a wheelchair in centerfield.” That suggestion came from the oldest brother. Carson couldn’t remember his name. There were too many of them. He struggled to single out which of the myriad jocks milling around the park were her brothers.

  “I don’t have a mitt.”

  “We have extras.” Another brother, this one was an annoying smartass—a little like his own sister. Before Carson composed a suitable comeback, the jerk tossed an old worn mitt at him. Carson stared at the thing in his hand. He had a problem with using other people’s mitts.

  “Hey, come on, pretty boy. You’re holding up our game.” Sam glared at him, challenge in her voice.

  Resigned to his fate, Carson slipped the mitt on his hand and stalked out to the field. The smart-ass brother signaled for him to take shortstop, the toughest fielder position. He was being setup. A slow smile spread over Carson’s face. He hid a few tricks up his mitt. Assuming he could resurrect even a fraction of his baseball skills, they’d never know what hit them. He’d catapult Sam and her obnoxious brothers down several notches for making too many assumptions.

  He smiled at her standing at second base, hands on hips, total tomboy. Too bad they weren’t on opposite teams. She glared at him. “Don’t screw up. I hung myself on a limb by picking you for my team.”

  “You didn’t pick me. I was the last one standing.”

  “You were sitting. Still, I’m stuck with you. Let me field the balls, just get out of my way.”

  “You take your baseball seriously, don’t you?”

  “Honey, in case you’ve been sleeping the last couple hours, my whole family takes their sports very seriously.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.” Carson rolled his eyes. “Fair warning. I, too, take everything seriously.”

  “Like I haven’t noticed that?” She shook her head and assumed her position. “The loser has to buy the winners’ beer for the rest of the weekend.”

  “This group? Hell, you don’t have that kind of money. I’m not sure I have that kind of money.”

  “Exactly why my team can’t lose.”

  “What do I get if our team wins?”

  “The thrill of victory.”

  “Rather than the agony of defeat?”

  “You got it, PB.”

  “I really wish you’d quit calling me that.”

  “Look at you. I told you to wear jeans.”

  Carson shrugged. “Too late now.”

  “You dressed like that on purpose.”

  “You know me too well.”

  “Just stay out of my way so I can field the ball.”

  “Maybe you’d be smarter staying out of my way.”

  “You?” Sam looked him up and down and snorted in disbelief. “Do you know which end of the bat is which?”

  “Just like I know which end of the horse is which.”

  “My point exactly. Mike will cover to here, and I’ll take care of the other side.” Mike nodded, an irritating smirk on his face.

  “You seem to have little confidence in my abilities.”

  “I have confidence in your abilities, just not your athletic prowess. What a shame for such a beautiful body to be wasted in an office.”

  Carson choked on the bile that rose in his throat. He’d swallowed that bitter pill years ago. That dream disappeared when he picked the family business over his passion. Had fate dealt him a different hand, he may well have used his body for a living. Shutting his eyes momentarily, he prayed for inner strength.

  Sam and her family were beginning to grate on his nerves. It was time to teach them a lesson.

  * * * *

  Sam sighed. Poor Carson. He looked so out of place among this motley crew with his perfect clothes, perfect hair, and perfect face. They’d chew him up and spit him out if she let them. So far she’d run interference. That was about to end. She couldn’t protect him from this. Her brothers would smell the scent of a wounded animal and move in for the kill.

  Already Brian and Mike eyed him like pickpockets eye a naïve tourist.

  Brian stepped up to bat. On her nephew’s first pitch, he slammed the ball, a line drive straight toward Carson’s head. Mike and she streaked toward the ball, knowing they’d never make it.

  Carson reached out his mitt and casually snagged the ball.

  Sam braked to halt within inches of crashing into him. Mike slid in behind her. Calmly, Carson raised one eyebrow and lobbed the ball back to the pitcher.

  “Lucky catch.” Brian muttered as he stalked back to the dugout. Sam shot a hard look at Carson. He lifted one broad shoulder, his face expressionless.

  Suspicion began to sink in when Carson caught an infield fly ball and threw a runner out at first with a bullet of a throw, putting Sam’s team up to bat.

  With two on, Carson took the bat Mike handed him.

  “Do you know how to use it?” Mike sneered.

  Carson smiled. “I’ll figure it out. I’ve watched baseball on TV.”

  Sam glared at her brothers when they snickered. Carson stepped up to the plate with the easy co
nfidence of a man who knew what he was doing. He positioned himself in a perfect batting stance and stared down the pitcher.

  Steve wound up and threw a wicked ball across the plate. Carson didn’t blink. He parked it. The softball sailed over the infield fence as if it was a hard ball.

  Carson grinned at Sam’s stupefied expression. “Dumb luck. Is that how you’re supposed to hit it?”

  Mike and Brian stared at him, unable to speak.

  Sam glared at him. “I’ve been had.”

  * * * *

  Sam sat on the edge of the bed in the small cabin they’d rented near the campground. Carson had some explaining to do.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you played baseball?”

  “And ruin your impression of me as a man with decorative muscles? Not on your life.”

  “You were an All-American in college.” She shook her head; even now she couldn’t believe he’d kept such a secret from her.

  “That was a lifetime ago. That naïve kid doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “You almost played pro ball.”

  “Almost is the key.”

  “Carson.” Sam turned toward him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Why didn’t you? Why did you give up your dream?”

  “Pressure from my family and my fiancé. At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “And now?”

  “No use crying over what could have been.”

  She reached for his hand and held it. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

  Carson swallowed and was silent for a long moment. “As much as it would hurt for you to give up horses. When it comes to giving up dreams for family obligations, you and I understand each other perfectly with one huge difference.”

  “And that is?”

  “It’s not too late for you.”

  “That’s why you told my stepmother to plan on finding another bookkeeper?”

  “Yeah. Stupid move on my part, I admit.”

  “You’ve backed me into a corner with no way out.”

  “You’re going to win this contest with Hans.”

  “I’m glad someone has faith in me.”

  Carson pulled her into his arms and held her close. Sam laid her head on his shoulder.