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Winning Ways

Page 10

by Toni Leland


  Kurt took her silent cue. "Well, I'm gonna scoot. Good luck this afternoon."

  She started to reply, but he was striding away. Fine. Go sulk. You can't always be right. Her thoughts turned to the championship class scheduled for that afternoon, and her stomach flip-flopped in anticipation of what she hoped would be the win of the weekend.

  Kurt walked toward his truck. He should really head back to El Dorado. He had a lot of work to do, and he was sure Eve wouldn't appreciate his extended absence. Irritation crawled across his shoulders. To hell with her. He wanted to see the outcome of the championship colt class. Karma might win, and that could prove to be a monkey wrench in Kurt's plans. The last thing he wanted was to show against Liz at the regional show, especially if Bill Benton started shopping around.

  Liz's soft voice startled him.

  "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have been so snippy."

  "It's okay. I'm used to being chewed out by beautiful women."

  Like hell, I am - just this one.

  "No, seriously. I know you just want to help, but I have to try to do this, or I'll always feel like a quitter."

  Her eyes held an emotion he couldn't quite read. Anticipation? Fear of rejection? He wanted to step down and pull her close to him, touch her hair, smell her perfume. He felt himself losing the battle to stay neutral.

  "I understand. Don't worry about it. I always have too much to say when it comes to horses."

  Liz stepped closer to the truck. "Are you going to stay for Karma's class?"

  Kurt's horse sense kicked in. I should get out of this while I'm ahead. His emotions took over.

  "I guess I could, if you want me there."

  She laid her hand lightly on his leg, sending a jolt of excitement through his body.

  "I do."

  Patting her hand, he tried to ignore the feelings stirring through him. He shifted in his seat, then reached for the key in the ignition.

  "Okey-doaky. I'll be there. Right now, I'm going to run out for a bite to eat. Want me to bring you something?"

  "Something light. I'm awfully nervous."

  Liz watched the truck drive away. Something's different. It's like there's an invisible barrier between us. He's there on the other side, so close, but I can't reach him.

  As she walked back to the barn, she thought about how the hard muscles of his leg had felt beneath the coarse fabric of his jeans. Her stomach quivered. I can't believe I did that. She smiled to herself. The evidence of his feelings had been inescapable. It wouldn't take much to make my fantasies about him come true. The smile faded. She'd need to know more about him - and his past - before succumbing to any flights of fancy. Squaring her shoulders, she tucked away all thoughts of Kurt, and started psyching herself for the next class.

  Karma moved restlessly around his stall, as though he sensed his big moment, only hours away.

  Liz also felt unsettled. "C'mon, you. A little exercise will be good for both of us."

  Thirty minutes later, she returned from the warm-up paddock and found a brown paper bag sitting on the tack trunk. Inside were a turkey sandwich and an Aliqua business card with "Good luck!" scrawled on the back.

  The stallion championship class contained four entries: Karma and the first place winners for each of the other stallion divisions. Karma would compete against two-, three-, and four-year-old horses. Liz knew he had very little chance of beating out the older colts because, as a youngster, his body still had an "unfinished" lankiness to it that would eventually smooth out with maturity. The fact that he was even a contender in the class was amazing, considering the large field of horses he'd beaten to get there. Remembering Kurt's comments, Liz scrutinized the handlers. All men.

  Her hands felt clammy, and Karma picked up on her case of nerves. As if he needs any more nervous energy. She glanced at the grandstand to look for Kurt and, again, disappointment welled up inside her. Where in the world does he go during the classes? She swallowed her thoughts and concentrated on keeping her colt under control as he danced around, threatening to walk on his hind legs at any moment.

  Liz watched the two exhibitors ahead of her, critically comparing the horses to her own. The two-year-old chestnut was nice, but not spectacular. Liz's real competition was Bill Benton's entry, the winner of the three-year-old division. Liz turned her attention back to Karma, talking softly and trying to transmit calm confidence to him.

  As soon as they stepped in front of the judge, the colt started his springy I'm-outta-here step, flagging his tail, and tossing his head. Liz tugged sharply on the lead line to get his attention. The judge tipped his hat, then walked the circle around Karma, inspecting every detail of the horse's body. Liz held her breath. At that moment, the colt transformed into a mahogany statue, stretching his long neck out even farther, and freezing into a classic Arabian pose.

  At the judge's direction, Liz ran alongside Karma's breathtaking trot. He seemed to float above the ground for just a second between each stride. As Liz reversed and headed back toward the judge, the colt broke, gave a little buck, and tossed his head. Dammit! She yanked the lead, bringing him back to the trot. Her heart sank. There goes the championship. Stakes classes provided no latitude for even one mistake.

  Struggling to keep her disappointment from showing, she trotted the colt over to the line and stood him up. Her throat tightened, and she cursed herself for not paying close enough attention to him, letting him break like that. The loudspeaker announced that the decisions were in, and the row of horses and handlers relaxed. She walked Karma around in a circle, partly to keep him relaxed, but mostly to take her mind off the glaring mistake.

  Having conceded defeat in her mind, it took a moment to register what she heard over the loudspeaker. In dream-like slow motion, she moved forward to accept the gleaming silver bowl for Reserve Champion.

  Kurt leaned against the rail at the far end of the ring. Two opposing forces pulled him as he watched Liz move up to accept the trophy. On the one hand, he worried about her continued success with Karma, and how it might affect his own plans. On the other hand, he was deeply moved by the freshness and enthusiasm she brought to showing her horses. He shook his head sadly. If she stays with this rat race, she'll end up just like the rest of the women in the business - hard and cynical, ready and willing to do whatever they can to win.

  Liz's nature was so easy-going; it felt good just being around her. He didn't want to see that change for the sake of a blue ribbon.

  Passing through the out-gate in a daze, Liz realized she hadn't paid attention to the winner of the class. She turned back in time to see Bill Benton accept the champion trophy for the beautiful gray three-year-old. Kurt's comments about big-name trainers taunted her as she walked toward the exit.

  Kurt came forward, and pecked her on the cheek.

  "Congratulations, Hon, you did real good. The judge really liked your horse, but I thought you'd lost it when he bucked."

  She rolled her eyes. "Me, too."

  A minute later, Benton joined them. The gray stallion snaked his neck, reaching out to touch noses with Karma. They sniffed each other's breath for a minute, then the older horse squealed and stamped.

  Benton laughed, giving Liz a pointed look. "He's telling Junior who's the boss."

  The two men talked for a minute, then Bill said goodbye and threw a mock salute as he turned to go.

  "Good to see you getting back on your feet, man."

  He nodded to Liz, then headed toward the barns.

  "What did he mean, ‘get back on your feet'?"

  Kurt didn't look at her. "I need to talk to you about that."

  A second later, his face softened and he gave her his funny, crooked smile.

  "Let's get your horse put away, and I'll take you out for a celebration dinner."

  The excitement of the afternoon sang through her body as Liz stood under the hot sting of the shower. All her wins thrilled her, but words couldn't describe how she felt about Karma's Reserve. The little guy would go
places - no question.

  Her focus turned to the evening ahead, and her pulse skipped. Wiping away the fog from the mirror, she saw the flush of success coloring her cheeks and the sparkle of anticipation in her eyes. Immediately, she remembered Kurt's caution on the morning after the fire. Fear of another rejection dampened her frame of mind, and confusion took over. If he doesn't want a relationship, why is he here? She sighed and slipped into a sweater. Maybe he's changed his mind, but until I know his intentions, I'll be very careful.

  22

  Kurt's soft whistle of appreciation greeted Liz as she stepped outside. He lounged against the truck, openly admiring her. Warmth moved over the skin beneath her sweater and worked its way up her neck. I love the way he makes me feel - desirable, attractive. Nervous!

  "You look gorgeous."

  The compliment sent her heartbeat into a wild tumble, and she shyly lifted her cheek for his kiss. Who would've ever thought he could be so charming? Settled into her seat, she watched him walk around to the driver's side. His hair still glistened from the shower, and she'd caught the scent of a fresh splash of aftershave. Her senses opened the floodgates of her thoughts.

  As they drove the winding road out of town, she felt his gaze touching her from time to time. She looked out the window, enjoying the excitement of the unknown. Would she finally have a glimpse into the secrets of the stranger beside her? He didn't have much to say, other than comments about the lake region. When they passed the restaurant where they'd eaten the previous night, Liz threw him a puzzled look.

  He smiled. "There's a neat place on the Nevada side, a town called Zephyrs Cove. I thought we'd go there for your victory celebration."

  To her pleasant surprise, Kurt's "take-charge" attitude didn't bother her, especially in view of the last six months, when she hadn't been in charge of much of anything.

  When they arrived at the restaurant, the maitre d' took them directly to a secluded table in the corner, a table adorned with a large bouquet of roses tied with a blue ribbon.

  The man turned and bowed. "Your champagne will be here momentarily, sir."

  Liz was stunned. "You did all this? Kurt, that's so sweet!"

  She opened the small card attached to the roses, then smiled up at him. "Thank you."

  Impulsively, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. The spicy scent of aftershave sent a ripple through her pulse.

  Floor-to-ceiling picture windows made up the entire back wall of the restaurant. The view of the lake was breathtaking at that hour, the sun still dawdling at the rim of the mountains, casting its last golden rays across the water. As she soaked in the beauty of the scene, Liz's emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She'd taken her first big step toward building Legacy, and she was with a man who made her feel wonderful.

  The champagne arrived and, when their glasses were filled, Kurt raised his.

  "To the future of Legacy Arabians, and your continued success."

  Her eyes burned with emotion as she sipped the fuzzy nectar. The conversation turned to the day's classes, and she welcomed Kurt's critique of each one. He has so much to offer. If we... Liz didn't allow the thought to finish. She still needed to learn more about this enigmatic man before she dared think about opening her heart.

  Kurt saw the change in Liz's attitude toward him. Her initial wariness had been replaced by almost childlike trust, an honor he knew he didn't deserve. If he could just set her aside until he'd accomplished what he needed to do, then perhaps he could think about including her in his future. Right. Like she's going to want anything to do with me when this is all over. He looked at her radiant face, fresh with the victories of the day, relaxed by the bubbly wine. His conscience kicked him in the head. He at least owed her an explanation of who he was.

  After dinner, Liz held Kurt's hand as he led her down some steps at the side of the restaurant, then along a short path. She felt giddy, as much from his touch as from the effects of the champagne. He guided her through a thicket, then around a curve and into a charming lakeside park with lush green grass, flowering shrubs, and stone benches.

  Liz inhaled sharply. "How did you know about this place?"

  He looked out over the lake. "I've been here before."

  An uneasy feeling crept over her. "You sure know a lot about this part of the country for being new to the area."

  "Yeah. Well, that's the horse business. I've traveled a lot."

  They wandered down the slope to the water's edge. A pair of ducks paddled up, clearly accustomed to being fed. Liz stood close to Kurt, the silence between them not at all comfortable, her earlier dreamy mood vanquished.

  Finally, he turned and took her hand, his dark eyes searching her face for a moment.

  "Let's sit down. I have something to tell you."

  She settled slowly onto a stone bench, its hard surface still warm from the late afternoon sun. As she gazed numbly across the lake, the pit of her stomach filled with ice. Steeling herself for whatever was coming, she composed her face into an expressionless mask and looked directly into Kurt's eyes.

  He met her gaze, then shifted his own to a point on the ground before speaking.

  "The night of the fire? When I told you I didn't have room for someone in my life? That's still true, but I want you to know why."

  Her chest tightened. Like it or not, she was about to learn the secret she'd so desperately wanted to know.

  "I'm involved with someone from my past. I - "

  Liz leapt to her feet, fury raging through her. "You mean you're married?"

  He closed his eyes, shaking his head vigorously.

  "No, not anymore...I was, years ago..." He focused on the ground. "My wife died in childbirth. My baby son was stillborn."

  Liz's breath caught in her chest, a surge of pain and remorse flashing through and crushing her own selfish thoughts. She saw the desperate pain in Kurt's eyes. The beautiful brown eyes that held such excitement for her - now dull and vacant, flooded with sad memories.

  Her voice cracked. "Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry."

  She sat down, and covered his hand with hers, trying to think of something to say, something that would soften the jagged edges of his pain. He sat quietly for a moment, then began to speak, his voice thin.

  "I was at a horse show...I was always at a horse show. I wasn't even there for her at the end to tell her how much I loved her before she died."

  His voice broke, and he stared out over the lake. The sun had completely disappeared, and the shadows of the mountains were spreading across the water like an oil slick. The colors, which had been so vibrant just minutes before, had taken on dull, muted tones, as though Kurt's pain had been transferred to every living thing nearby.

  Liz's throat tightened and her eyes burned with tears as she silently waited for him to continue.

  He rose from the bench and continued his story, slowly pacing back and forth in front of her.

  "That was ten years ago. I quit my job, got in my truck, and drove all over creation, trying to find a place where the memories wouldn't follow me. There wasn't any such place...I avoided horse shows like the plague."

  He swallowed hard. "About a year after she...they died, I happened to stop in Taos, New Mexico, just passing through on my way to nowhere. I saw a sign about an Arabian horse show at the fairgrounds, and the old spark ignited. I drove over there, just to have a look."

  He stopped pacing and sat down again, picking up Liz's hand and caressing it absent-mindedly while he talked.

  "I wandered around the barns, just absorbing the odors and listening to the sounds. Horses were in my blood, and I couldn't avoid it any longer. I wanted to be back at work. I needed to be back at work.

  "I heard hollering and a lot of noise in another part of the barn. I ran toward the commotion, coming around a corner just in time to meet a big horse, loose and headed directly at me. His eyes were wild and he looked scared half to death. I stepped in front of him and snapped my fingers, told him to ‘whoa.' He sl
owed down, then reared. I snapped my fingers again, and he just stood there, shaking and breathing hard. I walked up and grabbed his halter, and started talking to him."

  Liz held her breath, her eyes locked on Kurt's memory-ravaged face as he told the story.

  He shook his head sadly. "That's how I got the job in New Mexico. That stupid, snap-the-fingers trick."

  "I don't think it's stupid, at all. It sounds like you saved that horse from hurting itself."

  "Yeah. But it also convinced the horse's owner that I had supernatural powers, something to help her win in the show ring. She was a very rich widow who owned a large Arabian breeding farm. Della Courtland offered me more money than I'd ever seen, and let me know, in no uncertain terms, that my life would get better if I played her game."

  He glanced at Liz, then plunged on. "She had excellent horses, and that made my job easy. I trained, and showed, and brought home the ribbons and trophies. I buried myself in work. I didn't allow myself to think about anything except being with the horses. For Della, the win was the only thing. She didn't care how I did it, as long as I got there."

  The light faded quickly once the sun went down, and a sliver of moon became visible just above the mountains on the far side of the lake. The air had cooled sharply, and Liz shivered involuntarily.

  Kurt instantly became attentive. "Are you cold? We can go back up to the bar, if you like. It's quiet there."

  She nodded, feeling more than a little chilly, perhaps not only from the temperature, but also from the story unfolding before her.

  The small, cozy bar was dimly lit with old-time hurricane lamps that had been converted to run on electricity. Kurt steered Liz to a table in the corner where they'd have some privacy. He ordered cognac, and they clinked their glasses together without speaking. The golden liquor burned its way down Liz's throat, startling her with its simultaneous sweetness and fire.

 

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