all roads lead to you

by Probst, Jennifer

  She’d trusted Lyndsey. Trusted her gesture to be honest.

  Stupid. So damn stupid.

  The bliss hadn’t lasted long. Five perfect, fake days. At the end of the Friday lunch period, finally relaxed enough to chat with the group and pick at her turkey sandwich, she’d begun to engage. Open up. Feel as if there were a chance for her to make real friends.

  Then Lyndsey Belle had given the signal.

  And Pete Ryan dumped a container of tomato juice over Harper’s head.

  The chants and laughter in the cafeteria sometimes haunted her. They’d said awful things. That she stunk like a skunk, so she needed a bath of tomato juice.

  Harper had run out.

  Lyndsey got detention along with Peter Ryan, which only made things worse. Harper’s solitary confinement continued, and when her mother threatened to talk to the teachers and principal, Harper laughed it off, pretending it was just a silly prank that had gone wrong. She hated the idea of her mother feeling sorry for her. She didn’t want to be that kid. The one pitied and clucked over and gossiped about. The outcast.

  Even though she was.

  “Harp? You okay?” Ethan asked.

  She shook her head and refocused. “Yeah, sorry, my mind wandered.”

  “Well, let’s hope his methods don’t backfire. Once a horse loses trust, it’s hell to regain it.”

  They both watched as Aidan played peacemaker but refused to lead Phoenix away, forcing him to decide. She held her breath and waited. Praying Phoenix would understand this was to help him and not a cruel joke.

  Phoenix reared back on his hind legs and leaped at Maximus.

  Maximus gave a furious scream and lowered his head to charge back.

  Aidan firmly tugged both of their bridles at once and used his voice like a whiplash.

  Both horses settled down, breathing heavily, glaring at each other.

  Thighs braced, shoulders back, Aidan stood his ground with quiet authority. He had a talent for staring into their eyes and figuring out what they needed. Watching him work his magic was hypnotizing. The way his hands roamed the horse’s body, as if able to find all the sweet spots. The way his gaze delved deep for endless minutes until he nodded, as if he’d discovered something the horse had tried to hide. The way his lyrical voice deepened like rich velvet and stirred all her senses. The way his eyes squinted when he grinned, and how his hair reminded her of crisp, bleached hay, fresh and clean.

  She shut down her dangerous mental wanderings and tried to focus. “Jockey arrives tomorrow,” she told her brother. “Name’s Elmo. Can you tell Ophelia we need another room?”

  “Yeah, about that . . . we have a bit of a residency problem, Harp. Ophelia double-checked the inn calendar, and she’s almost completely blocked for the next three months. She could probably manage to squeeze in one of them, but not two.”

  Harper sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I was afraid of this. I can call the local hotels, but they’re a decent drive from town.”

  “I’d offer up the new room at my place, but it’s not done, and Mia and I just can’t deal with another guest. I’d suggest Aidan stay with you, but I know how you feel about your privacy.”

  The idea skittered through her brain, but it was too awful to imagine. No way could she have Aidan in her personal space. Yes, she had a spare room she could clean out, but like the farm, her home was sacred to her. Safe. She refused to share it with anyone, especially a man who offered a physical temptation on a daily basis.

  Hell no.

  “Let me make some phone calls. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Okay. Chloe should be coming soon, and she’ll be able to help out.”

  “Good, maybe she can keep Owen out of my hair. I’m at the end of my patience. I can try to—holy crap. I don’t believe it.” She stared at the scene before her.

  The two horses had settled and were sharing space without trying to maim each other. Aidan had retreated, his leg propped up on the fence, elbow resting on the post, keeping his sharp gaze on the horses.

  Damn, he was magnificent.

  She must’ve said the words aloud, because Ethan nodded in agreement. “Yep. One hell of a horse.”

  Thank God he didn’t realize she meant the man.

  “Aidan’s got something special,” Ethan said thoughtfully. “A gift with horses.”

  “Like you. Remember how we used to call you the horse whisperer?”

  He grunted. “Sure, I got the glory for stepping in at the right time, but you’re the one with the real gift, Harp. You remind me of him, actually.”

  “Who?”

  He jerked his head toward the pasture. “Aidan.”

  Her heart stopped, then resumed in a crazy rhythm. “Just because we both like horses?”

  “No. Because you both see people and animals for who they really are. The only other person I know like that was Mom.”

  Surprise flickered. “Ophelia was always the most like Mom. She’s the one who runs the inn and likes guests and bakes homemade scones.”

  Ethan grinned. “But you’re the one who kept her real passion alive. Don’t you know it was always about the horses? She would’ve done that full time, if possible.” His cell rang and he glanced at it. “Gotta go. Have to meet Mia.” He squeezed her shoulder in a quick goodbye and walked away.

  Harper sifted through her brother’s words. A faint smile curved her lips. Yes, she liked the idea of continuing her mother’s legacy. Maybe Ethan was right. Mom had loved going to the barn late at night. Harper once caught her singing to the horses, and when she asked about it, her mother said she didn’t want them to have bad dreams. She had loved to ride whenever possible and been fiercely protective of all the furry residents on the farm.

  Maybe her mother had also dreamed of owning a racehorse.

  Maybe they’d been more alike than Harper ever had believed.

  The thought danced in her mind while she watched the horses graze in the pasture, finally at peace.

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m Elmo.”

  Harper dropped her gaze. She’d expected small—she’d been around jockeys before—but her height only made the contrast between them more daunting.

  His hair was dark and cropped close to his head. Brown eyes regarded her steadily, slanted slightly at the corners, reflecting little emotion. His lips were firmed, and his legs and arms seemed to dangle next to his body. His cheek was swollen and bruised, like he’d just gotten into a fistfight before heading to the farm. He wore black riding pants, boots, and a short-sleeved red jersey.

  Harper stuck out her hand. “Harper Bishop. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He shook with a strong grip, nodded, and turned to Aidan. “Where is the horse?”

  Aidan jerked his head toward the barn. “In the pasture, ready to meet you. Want to get settled in your room first? We can talk and grab some lunch.”

  “Not hungry.” Without another word, he tucked his head down and walked out to the field with a determined stride.

  She shot Aidan a look. “He’s a chatterbox.”

  Aidan quirked a brow. “That was a big conversation for Elmo. Come on. It’s all up to him now.”

  She trotted after Aidan. “How will he decide if he wants the job?”

  Aidan snorted. “He’s extremely . . . unconventional. It’s all about the energy for him. If he doesn’t like the aura around the horse, or if there’s a negative spirit, he’ll just leave.”

  “Negative spirit? Within the horse?”

  “Yep. He’s very superstitious and picky. He’s difficult to deal with, but if he believes in the horse, he’s one of the best. I think it will be a match.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What if he deems poor Phoenix has a negative energy?”

  Aidan shrugged. “Then we’re screwed.”

  She blinked. “Tell me you’re kidding.” When he remained silent, she groaned. “Are you telling me you don’t have another jockey on standby?”

  �
��Elmo is plan A, plan B, and standby. There’s no one I’d trust more with an emotional type of horse like Phoenix. We have to hope they like each other.”

  “Phoenix rarely likes anybody.”

  “Maybe Elmo will find him a challenge.”

  She blew out a breath in frustration. “It can’t be that hard to find another jockey if Elmo says no.”

  Aidan shook his head. “Jockeys prefer to work with trained horses and build a name for themselves. Injury is always a possibility with a green horse, and Phoenix has a bit of a temper with an abusive past. Basically, he’s got tons of baggage. You’ve never had a racehorse, so you have no reputation to sell. And though I’m well known, my wins have all been Irish horses. We don’t have much to offer, love. Elmo knows me. He’s patient, experienced, and he can usually reach a difficult horse. So start praying they get along.”

  She smothered another groan as their situation suddenly became violently, sharply, crystal clear.

  Phoenix was grazing on his midmorning snack. The jockey approached, stopped a few inches away from the horse, and stared.

  Phoenix curled back his lips in his legendary sneer, pricked up his ears, and went back to his food.

  Elmo dropped to the ground in front of the horse, crossed his legs, and didn’t move.

  Harper expected some type of skilled approach, hand gestures, or anything that looked like he was bonding. Instead, Phoenix continued to ignore him, and Elmo continued to wait.

  Owen walked over and did a double take. “Wow, a real live jockey, huh? What’s he doing?”

  “Bonding with Phoenix,” Harper said.

  Owen glanced back and forth between them. “Looks like he’s taking a squat and doing nothing to me.”

  Aidan grunted.

  Finally, Phoenix stopped chewing and began to check out his new visitor with a bit of pique. He took a few steps toward Elmo and pawed the ground, showing off.

  Harper winced. Probably a bad sign. Maybe Elmo would mistake the horse’s fiery personality for a demon, and they’d have to scramble to look for another jockey who wanted to take a chance on a green horse from an unknown stable with an owner with no previous races under her belt. Her palms began to sweat, and she wiped them down her jeans.

  Elmo stretched out his legs in front of him. Rested his hands flat on the ground behind his back, propping himself up. And kept waiting.

  So they all waited.

  Harper had no idea how many minutes ticked by. Her nerves jumped, and she curled her hands into loose fists to keep from chewing on her thumb.

  Finally, Phoenix seemed to be so annoyed by the visitor who made no sound and sat in his territory, the horse leaped in a menacing manner, as if to physically herd Elmo away.

  The jockey never flinched.

  After more time went by, Phoenix walked up close and sniffed, baring his teeth.

  Harper’s heart sank. She cupped her hands and raised her voice. “Umm, Elmo, if you give him a chance, you’ll see he just needs time to get comfortable with you. I think—”

  “Shush,” Aidan whispered, grabbing her hand. “He needs silence.”

  Harper glared, especially from the jolt of electricity she felt at his touch. “For what?” she hissed back. “I think he needs a decent explanation to make an informed decision.”

  “Trust me, there will be absolutely no logic in this. Now, shush.”

  She went to snap at him for the chauvinistic command, but when she realized Elmo didn’t bother to respond and remained silent, questions burned in her mind. Was this jockey actually good? Or was he crazy? And if he was crazy, did she want him riding Phoenix?

  After a few more tense moments, Phoenix got brave enough to butt at Elmo’s head but pulled back when the jockey didn’t move.

  “This is ridiculous,” she whispered. “He’s doing nothing!”

  “He’s examining the aura. Just be patient.”

  Elmo slowly stood, unfolding each part of his body with a deliberate slowness and grace. Phoenix stilled, obviously wary. They stayed in that position until the jockey seemed satisfied. Then, in a sudden challenging move, Elmo grasped his bridle and pulled his head close. Phoenix blew out his breath and bared his teeth in a creepy Halloween grin. Elmo leaned in way too far, until his nose practically touched the horse’s.

  Harper wondered if she had enough liability insurance for this upcoming claim.

  Elmo blasted the words right at Phoenix, his voice echoing in the air. “I ride.”

  “What the hell is going on?” she asked. “Can he even mount without a block?”

  “Just let him do his thing. We’ll have a decision soon.” Aidan didn’t let go of her hand, tugging her closer toward the riding area.

  Elmo made a move to mount, but Phoenix sensed it coming and began to buck. Moving in front of the horse, Elmo pushed his face close once again and began whispering something Harper couldn’t hear.

  Phoenix stilled. Cocked his head.

  With a firm pat, Elmo moved back to the horse’s left side, and in one graceful, dancer-like motion, he threw himself up and swung into the saddle.

  And then they took off.

  He rode a few laps, allowing the horse to find his natural stride, then pushed him to open up.

  Harper watched horse and rider take off in the trademark speed she was used to seeing with Phoenix and waited patiently while Elmo finished his test ride. When he finally dismounted and walked toward them, Harper tried to stay calm.

  “Horse has demon in him,” the jockey stated.

  Her heart sank. “If you just gave him another chance, you’ll see he needs time to settle, and I know you’ll change your mind.”

  Elmo furrowed his brow. “Don’t need no more chance.”

  Aidan rubbed his head. “Is there a way we can release the demon?”

  Harper almost laughed at the ridiculous conversation, but they were both desperate. “He’s really quite sweet,” she said.

  Phoenix took that moment to jam his head into Elmo’s side and practically knocked him over.

  Elmo looked back and glared.

  Phoenix bared his teeth in a sneer.

  Aidan sighed. “Damn it, I’m sorry. I thought it’d be a good match. I can get you on the next train back to Saratoga, but you’re welcome to stay the night. I’ll take you to dinner.”

  “Not hungry. I go to room now. We start tomorrow.”

  It took her a few moments to register his words. Harper jerked back. “What? You’re taking the job?”

  “Yes. He good demon. We win.”

  With a curt nod and final glance at the horse, Elmo disappeared down the path on the way back to the inn.

  Head spinning, she looked at Aidan. “What just happened?”

  Aidan grinned. “We got ourselves a jockey.”

  Harper grinned back and slowly became aware of their still-linked hands. Her arm tingled pleasantly. When was the last time a guy had held her hand? Hell, when had she last snuggled up with someone on any type of intimate level? It was amazing how hand-holding could seem more intimate than sex. At least, in her life.

  Trying not to show how his touch affected her, she dropped his hand. His gaze pinned hers, those glowing amber eyes swirling with a mixture of emotions she couldn’t name. Her breath squeezed from her lungs. Intensity settled between them.

  He cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “I’ll take a room at the Hampton until a spot opens back up at the inn. Make sure to call my cell if anything happens and I’m not around. I’ll meet you here at five a.m. for his morning workout.”

  “Okay.” She turned away, then hesitated, remembering she’d promised her sister to have him over for dinner. “You’re invited to dinner Sunday night.” She hated the slight huskiness to her voice, but hopefully he didn’t notice. She shifted her weight and tried hard to seem natural and not awkward. “Ophelia is cooking a big meal. Owen and Chloe are coming, and I’ll invite Elmo now that he’s decided to stay.”

  He cocked his head. “Thanks.
But we can get something from town. Elmo and I are used to taking care of ourselves.”

  She frowned. “I know, but it’s not good to live on takeout. Ophelia composed a meal schedule. Dinner will be served at the inn for everyone Sundays and Thursdays. The rest of the time, we’re on our own. With everyone’s crazy schedule, we decided this would be a good way to talk about Phoenix’s training on a regular basis without trying to schedule meetings. Besides, connecting over a meal is important.”

  Was that a flash of longing on his face or just her imagination? “Sounds nice. What’s your day to cook?”

  She gave a half laugh. “Never. It’s not one of my talents.”

  “Bet you have more important talents.”

  Harper knew it was meant as a joke, but by the end of his quip, a sexual heat laced itself through his words, inspiring images of darkened rooms, tangled sheets, and sweat-slick naked bodies. Particularly his. In her bed.

  He stepped back the same time she did. The connection between them surged and punched with a power she still wasn’t used to.

  “Better get back to work,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, me, too.” She shoved her hands awkwardly in the back pockets of her jeans.

  He grasped Phoenix’s bridle and led him over to the barn. “Come on, capalleen. Let’s get you bathed and brushed and try a new companion. Maybe Stitch? She seems a bit sweet on you.”

  Harper listened to him until his voice faded away. She had to be more careful. No more touching, even casually. No standing too close.

  And definitely no thinking of him naked in her bed.

  A few nights later, Harper rubbed her eyes and tried to refocus on her laptop. Endless Excel spreadsheets, bank accounts, and a list of fees crowded her tabs and made her itch for another cup of coffee. This horse-racing business was expensive, especially the race-entry fees. She’d made the hard decision to not attend the last horse auction, knowing they had limited stall space until she placed two other horses. Plus, she needed to be careful with all the money being funneled into training salaries, equipment, and time.