The Gift Horse

by Jami Davenport

  Something beautiful and delicate formed between them. Like her grandmother’s fine China, Sam feared she’d bobble it as she did everything else and send it crashing to the floor. It’d shatter in a million pieces, never to be made whole again.

  Chapter 31—Gullible Hearts and Conniving Sisters

  Bridget walked out of the barn and almost ran into Burke. Shit. So much for a quick escape. The man had hounded her every step today. Whatever he wanted, he wouldn’t get it from her. “Burke, I’m in a hurry. What do you need?” Irritation boiled under her indifferent surface.

  “Actually, I’m here to speak to you about a confidential matter that causes great personal discomfort to me.”

  Bridget raised one eyebrow and leaned against her little sports car, giving Burke her full attention. She specialized in digging up dirt. “And that would be?”

  “It’s about Sam. Let me preface it by making it clear that this isn’t easy for me.”

  “I see.” Burke might be shrewd, but Bridget was shrewder. She recognized a kindred spirit when one held her captive in the doorway. He never did anything unless he chose to profit.

  “I am rather fond of your brother. He’s a good man, perhaps a little too trusting in the relationship department.”

  “You think so?” The man was up to something, and it had nothing to do with personal concern for her brother. She understood his type; after all, they shared a lot of similarities.

  “Yes, I saw what Marcia did to him. It’s taken him years to get close to another woman again.”

  “Sam?” Bridget revealed nothing and feigned boredom, while her mind raced faster than a shopper at a Nordstrom’s One-Day Sale.

  “Of course. None of us are blind.”

  “So what’s your concern?” Bridget, who normally enjoyed hearing and dishing out dirt, felt a surge of protectiveness toward Carson and his private life.

  “Sam is a close personal friend of mine. Coming to you breaks her confidence, but I feel I have no choice.”

  “And?” The man reeked of bullshit.

  “She wants a shot at the Olympics in the worst way. We both know the kind of money that requires.”

  “And you think she’s using Carson?”

  “I know she is.”

  “Well, the joke’s on her. He doesn’t have that kind of money. At least, not at this moment.” Bridget’s eyes narrowed. “I tried to warn him about her, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “No one ever does when they think they’re in love.”

  “So why are you telling me this? I don’t have any power over my brother.”

  “You do over your father.”

  “She won’t be the head trainer. There’s no way that’ll happen.”

  “She’ll stay on as assistant, while she’s working on Carson’s pocketbook. She’ll bleed him dry. I’ve seen her do it time and time again.”

  “You have?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Why are you telling me? What do you really care? I don’t believe for one damn second that it’s out of concern for my brother.”

  “I have my reasons for needing Sam gone. Yes, she’s a friend, but I need out from under my obligation to provide her students with good horses. I want to work with Hans, which is to your benefit. Besides, did you consider that she might win this contest and be your head trainer?”

  “Who told you about the contest?”

  “Sam.”

  “Well, she doesn’t stand a chance of winning.”

  “You’d better have a backup plan.”

  Bridget frowned. Sam as the head trainer of her equestrian center was not going to happen.

  Bridget always got her way.

  She’d see to it.

  * * * *

  Carson picked up Sam’s show jacket, the expensive one he’d bought for her, and waited. Sam tightened Gabbie’s girth one final time and led her out of her stall to the warm-up arena at the show grounds. After handing her the jacket, he tagged along behind, keeping a safe distance from his mare’s inquisitive nose.

  Halfway there, Hans fell into step beside her. “It’s counter-productive for me to be helping you considering we’re competing for the same prize.”

  “Then don’t.” Sam huffed and walked faster. Hans’ long legs had no problem keeping pace. Carson dropped back but stayed within eavesdropping range.

  “Ya, but I will help anyway. I desire a fair victory.” He slipped so easily into that German accent.

  “Really? Is that why my best students’ horses have come up lame in the past couple weeks?” She grimaced, as if she regretted the words as soon as they tumbled from her big mouth. Carson braced himself for the impending rebuttal.

  Hans grabbed Gabbie’s reins and pulled Sam to a stop. “What are you accusing me of?” Sam whirled around to face him. Both combatants ignored the horse.

  Gabbie snorted and tugged on the reins, seeing a prime opportunity to steal a little grass. Sam paid her no notice. She propped her hands on her hips and glared at Hans. “Just what it sounds like, Herr Doctor.”

  “I see your devious plan. Ya, you are going to tell Mr. Reynolds that I am a charlatan if you lose. You think you have a win-win situation.”

  Carson watched his mare wander off. He snagged the reins as she slipped by, but stayed near Sam in case there was bloodshed.

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  “You are the devious one.”

  “Me? Your ethics are seriously in question. You’ve been stealing my students. The ones you can’t steal meet a different fate.”

  “You are making some serious accusations. The Schraders came to me of their own free will. They need my discipline instead of your lackadaisical instruction.”

  “My instruction is NOT lackadaisical. I give each student one hundred percent.”

  “One hundred percent from you is equivalent to fifty percent from a master like me.”

  Oh, shit. Carson held his breath. Perhaps, they would draw blood. He prayed neither of them was armed.

  “You’re trying to rattle me before my class.” Sam was locked and loaded.

  “Bah. That is not my fault. You always were one to crumble under pressure and adversity.”

  “I am not crumbling. I’m pissed.” That wasn’t an understatement.

  Hans smirked. Carson saw steam coming out of Sam’s ears. He battened down the hatches and waited for impact.

  “It is one and the same. Look at you. Even with the expensive clothes and equipment your benefactor has purchased for you, you still look like a ragamuffin.” Hans paused to cast a meaningful glance at Carson. Carson bit his tongue and stayed safe. “Have you paid no heed to what I’ve taught you? You are not fit to manage the pony rides at the circus, let alone a world-class facility.”

  “Why you pompous ass!”

  “Bah!” Hans threw up his hands and stalked off. “I do not need to listen to your nonsense. You are an ingrate. I have students who take my advice seriously. When you are ready to admit that I am the master and you are the student, I may consider your apology, if delivered with the proper amount of remorse.”

  Sam spun around and glared at Carson. “Don’t you say a thing.” Her eyes followed the path from his hands, to the reins, to the animal at the end of the reins. She gaped in horror. Green grass slime ran down Gabbie’s chin and caked on her curb bit as she munched away. “Carson, why did you let her eat?”

  “I didn’t see what harm it would do.”

  “You didn’t see the harm?” She turned her fury on him.

  “Well, look at you.” Carson made a show of looking Sam up and down. “I buy you the best riding outfit money can buy, and you look like you just crawled out of a dumpster. How the hell do you do it?”

  Her hair had escaped from the bun at the back of her head and stuck out from under her top hat at odd angles. Horse slobber and splotches of dirt adorned her new jacket. Her white breeches were smeared with green and yellow spots. He didn’t even want to think ab
out the origin of those spots.

  “It’s a special talent.”

  “It might be, but I don’t think there’s any money or glory in being a dumpster diva.”

  “No more than there is in being a tight ass.”

  She might have him there.

  * * * *

  Steaming, Sam rode through the open gate in the warm-up arena. She’d had it with men. Germans or Americans—they were all assholes.

  Dumpster Diva? She’d show Carson, and she’d show Hans. She was riding right after Bridget. She’d beat her skinny, rich butt. That’d shut them up.

  Can’t ride under pressure?

  Bullshit. Of course she could. When she applied herself. She just hadn’t applied herself yet. Her underachieving ended today. Right here. Right now. Move over Bridget. There’s a new girl in town. Bow to the master? Get ready to bow, Hans.

  Swallowing hard, Sam nudged Gabbie into a ground-covering, forward trot and forced herself to relax. Gabbie moved around the arena, loose and supple. She felt like heaven.

  For a moment.

  Gabbie had other ideas about who the master really was. Without warning, she performed her signature vertical leap then careened sideways, almost hitting a child slogging around on a pony. Horses and riders scattered to all corners as her redheaded mare proceeded to buck with such enthusiasm that she’d put a championship rodeo bronco to shame.

  Sam hung on for everything she had, pulling the mare’s head up and whipping her around in a tight circle. Gabbie shook her head and snorted for pure pissiness. She almost had the mare under control when she heard a snap. The stirrup leather had broken. Gabbie took advantage of the situation. She launched Sam into the arena dust then she ran to Carson and pressed her big head against his chest.

  Sam jumped to her feet and stalked to the mare. The riders behind her went back to work, keeping a safe distance from the crazy mare and furious rider.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Sam fumed.

  “She seems to have a problem with you.” Carson’s innocent expression infuriated her all the more.

  “She has a problem with everyone. That’s why she was so cheap.”

  “She doesn’t seem to have a problem with me.” Carson stroked the mare’s blaze, and she uttered a muffle sound like a purr.

  “Then you ride her.” Sam shot daggers at the traitorous mare.

  “Are you giving up on her?”

  “Hell, no. There has to be a way to get through to her.”

  “I don’t seem to have that problem.”

  “Of course not. You don’t ride her.”

  “You’re jealous.”

  “Of what?”

  “That this animal likes me better than she likes you.”

  “Horses don’t think that way. She’s lazy, spoiled, and needs a serious attitude adjustment when it comes to her work ethics.”

  “Sounds like my sister,” Carson muttered.

  “There are similarities, and she is a horse’s a—” Sam paused when she heard her name called over the loud speaker as the next one to ride. “Damn. I haven’t even warmed her up yet.”

  “Her back is warmed up pretty well if you ask me.”

  Sam glared at him. She wanted to slap that smirk from his smug face. “I wouldn’t be so amused if I were you. This is your future we’re talking about.”

  Gabbie nuzzled him, as Carson sobered. “I’m sorry, but she’s got your number.”

  “And how do you propose I fix that.”

  “I’m no horse trainer. Ask Herr Doctor.” Carson held the reins as she stood on the mounting block and vaulted into the saddle. She cringed, feeling sick to her stomach as Gabbie danced underneath her. Carson’s eyes met hers, and she read the concern there. “Be careful.”

  She nodded.

  Asking Hans for forgiveness was the last thing she wanted to do. Even worse, it would probably be the next thing.

  * * * *

  “Sam, maybe you should admit defeat and move on?”

  Carson hesitated near the door when he heard Burke’s voice coming from the tack room.

  “I can’t imagine giving this up. When riding is good, when everything goes my way, there’s this incredible connection that is the greatest natural high in the world.”

  Carson backed up a little, feeling guilty but unable to help himself.

  “It wasn’t good last weekend.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “It bordered on catastrophic.”

  “My stirrup leather broke, and I went flying. Someone tampered with it.”

  “Oh, Lord, now you sound like Juan. Sam, really. Just last week you told me the leathers were wearing thin, and you needed to replace them.”

  “They weren’t that bad.”

  Burke snorted. “You’re your own worst enemy.”

  “I can’t quit. Nothing feels better than this when it’s right.”

  “Better than really good sex?”

  “Much better.”

  “Except with the right man.”

  “I don’t think there is a right man.”

  “What? You don’t get wet all over for the pretty boy?”

  “He’s all right.”

  “Just all right? What? The pretty boy doesn’t set your world on fire?”

  “I said he’s okay.”

  “I thought the two of you were ready to go ring shopping.”

  “That’s crazy. Once Gabbie is sold, Carson and I will be over.”

  “When you’re done with him, send him my way.”

  “I think he’d have something to say about that.”

  “I suppose. Just my luck.” They both laughed.

  Damn.

  Carson backed away. He’d heard enough. Numb, he walked out the barn door and into his truck.

  He thought she’d enjoyed it with him. Surely, she couldn’t be faking pleasure. Yet, women did that all the time. Marcia had fooled him for over two years. It’d all been lies, just like every other woman he’d been with. He’d been okay, but not great.

  He could have sworn it was different with Sam. Now it sounded like it wasn’t. She was shining him on for reasons he wasn’t sure he wanted to delve into. Money for one, but she had no idea. His liquid cash was at a serious low, and this job meant everything to him.

  Carson pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. His head throbbed, and his heart ached. He’d been used and betrayed. Been there, done that. Would he ever learn? He’d been getting in deeper and deeper with Sam only to find out that she didn’t feel the same. He’d gone against his cardinal rule, and now he’d pay with the one thing he couldn’t afford to gamble.

  His stupid, gullible heart.

  Chapter 32—A Lapse of Judgment

  Carson directed one of the subs to the back of the new arena where the building materials were stored. He paused to survey the massive building. Large panels of metal sheeting covered three-quarters of the roof. Once that work was completed, the interior work could begin, which would most likely take longer than the exterior.

  The arena would need to be prepared for footing. The stabling area would need to be walled off from the arena and the stalls built. The all-weather outdoor competition arenas needed to be prepared. So much left to do, but if their crews worked weekends, they might make their deadlines.

  Frowning, he squinted into the sun. Speaking of crews, specifically roofers, where were they? The place should be buzzing with activity. A notoriously undependable bunch, these roofers challenged his patience, yet they’d been on the job for three days straight. Frowning, he walked to the side of the barn where they’d parked their vehicles earlier this morning.

  They were gone.

  Shit. Now what?

  He eyes narrowed when he spotted Bridget’s car parked nearby. He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. She’d pissed off one roofer yesterday by demanding he be her personal go-fer. What the hell happened today to piss them all off? From this point forward, he’d ban his sister fro
m the construction site. He dialed the foreman’s number on the cell phone. After several pleading conversations, he convinced the crew to return.

  For the next half hour, Carson smoothed his subs’ ruffled feathers. When he finally finished, Bridget had made herself scarce. Lucky for her because he was in a foul mood, and Bridget deserved a good butt chewing.

  He’d been cruising for a rousing argument ever since he’d overheard Sam’s comments about his ho-hum performance in bed. Instead of confronting her, he’d avoided her and focused his frustrations elsewhere. He knew the moment of truth neared, and he had no idea in hell of how to deal with it. Right now he had business to attend to.

  Carson stomped away from the new arena in need of a short walk to cool off before his dreaded appointment with the director of the therapeutic riding center.

  Then his day went from crappy to potentially disastrous.

  In front of the barn, Juan entertained a middle-aged woman in a frumpy gray suit. It was her. Carson glanced at his watch. She was two hours early. Carson walked to meet her, pasting a welcoming smile on his face.

  “Ms. Malone, I’ve been expecting you.”

  “Kate, please.” The worry lines on her face made her look much older. He recognized that look; he’d worn it too many times himself. On her it made her look like a prune. Did it look that bad on him?

  “Certainly. Kate.”

  “Juan has been kind enough to give me a tour and discuss horse care while you were indisposed.”

  “I apologize for not being available when you arrived. I was under the mistaken impression that our appointment was later in the morning.”

  “Oh, it was. When I’m evaluating the merit of a facility, I like to show up early or unannounced to get a feel for the place.”

  “Could I answer any questions for you about the facility or our future plans?”

  “It needs some work to be safe. For one, that burned out barn needs to be cleared away.”

  Carson couldn’t agree more. “It will be. When we bring in the equipment for leveling the outdoor competition arenas next week, we’ll clear that area as well. The plans call for additional parking and a small garden with picnic tables on it.”