by Janet Dailey
These last thoughts were the reason the glint in her eyes was so openly defiant when her father and Barrett King joined her. There was a puzzled question in the latter's eyes as he met her gaze, but as usual his glance never fingered very long on her. Barrett King saw her as a child, at most a teenager. That rankled with Dani, too. She wanted to declare that she was his equal, but the apprehensive light in her father's eye choked back the scathing comment that bubbled in her chest.
Clamping her lips shut, she turned her gaze track-ward to the two horses slowly circling the track counter-clockwise. Without the quieting influence of his stablemate, The Rogue was exhibiting the eagerness to run, fighting the tight hold of the reins by the steel muscles of Manny's arms.
'He looks good, Lew,' Barrett commented.
'He looks more than good. He looks great!' Dani said firmly, the mediocre praise irritating her. When he's a three-year-old he's going to take the Triple Crown the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, and then the Belmont.'
'It's not safe to count your chickens,' Barrett cautioned with a hint of mockery. 'The Rogue is only a horse.'
Her head spun around to glare at him angrily. 'You can say that because you haven't seen him run. You haven't seen The Rogue in full stride. Nothing can touch him. Nothing!' A brow was raised at her vehement declaration. 'You knew he was good, Mr. King, that's why you tried to buy him, but he belongs to Lew and me!'
For once there were no devils in his cool, level gaze. 'It isn't good to become too attached to a horse, especially a working Thoroughbred. It can only lead to heart break—as it almost has already.'
'You'd like to see him crippled, wouldn't you?' she accused, her hazel eyes flashing cinnamon brown fires. 'If you can't have The Rogue, you don't want anyone else to have him either.'
'That will be enough.' Her father's voice was a low growl and just as menacing but the effect was dampened by the apologetic look he tossed to Barrett. 'You'll have to excuse my daughter. It's difficult to teach them the proper respect in this kind of environment.'
'I respect those who deserve it,' Dani retorted.
Her chin was tilted upward to indicate that the cool look she was receiving didn't intimidate her at all, but mentally she braced herself for the taller man's anger.
Instead Barrett said calmly, 'The horses are at the starting line.'
The decision had been made not to use the starting gate since The Rogue hadn't been worked out of it since his injury. At the signal from the trainer Simms, the two horses were off. The flashy chestnut immediately leaped to the front, a big agile horse except when compared with The Rogue. As they passed the trio in the stands, the cedar red Thoroughbred was at the chestnut's heels. Both horses were at a run, yet neither were at their top speed. The track was a mile round and races were won at the end, not the beginning.
'That's a fight wrap your jockey has on those reins.' The trainer Simms had joined them.
'The Rogue doesn't like other horses in front of him,' Lew explained, not taking his eyes off the racing horses now circling the track 'He tends to want to get in front too soon. We haven't been able to rate him.'
Around the first turn they ran the pounding of their hooves overshadowing the pounding of Dani's heart. Along the backstretch The Rogue's nose had pulled even with the saddle of the golden chestnut. In a sense, it was a match race between the horse that the newspapers declared was the best three year-old and the horse that Dani knew was better than any three-or four-year-old. From under her thick brown lashes, she glanced surreptitiously at Barrett king.
'The Rogue is going to take your horse, you know,' she said softly and more than a little triumphantly.
His cool green gaze swept her face briefly but arrogantly, although he made no reply. As the horses came out of the final turn into the home stretch, Dani leaned forward her hands closing over the railing, their tight hold checking the cries that throbbed in her chest, screams of 'Go, Rogue, go!' All thought of the past injury to the big Thoroughbred were vanished from her mind. The chestnut's jockey was showing his horse the whip, flicking it near the side of the horse's head, but Manny had only relaxed his hold and was hand riding The Rogue, urging the horse to full stride.
Most horses quicken their stride to attain top speed as the chestnut was doing. Others, like The Rogue, lengthen their stride and are called striders. While Easy Doesit appeared to be giving it his all, The Rogue stretched out, magically flying above the ground, seeming to pass him with one bound and each effortlessly, gliding movement carried him farther ahead.
'I don't believe it,' Simms murmured in disbelief as The Rogue drew nearer the finish line five, six lengths ahead of the flashy chestnut, still pulling away with his ears pricked forward under no strain at all.
'I told you!' Dani exclaimed, and turned away from the rail, exultant lights shining from her eyes. 'I told you nothing could touch him!"
Then came that sound, a short explosive pop that can be likened to no other sound, a small, insignificant sound that can turn the blood of any horseman to ice. Only one thing can make that sound—the snapping of a bone.
With a stifled cry, Dani spun back to the track, her wide, terrified eyes seeing the still galloping Rogue, his gait strange and uneven, the frantic efforts of Manny to pull the horse to a halt. Vaguely she was conscious of the three men vaulting over the railing and the movements of her own body to follow them as they raced down the dirt track to the gradually slowing horse and rider.
'He was sound. I swear to God he was sound. The leg was healed,' her father kept mumbling in what amounted to a desperate and disparaging prayer.
By the time they reached the horse, Manny had dismounted and was attempting to quiet the awkwardly prancing horse. The large intelligent eyes in the dished forehead of The Rogue were glazed as he struggled against the efforts of the four men to aid him. With nightmarish clarity. Dani watched the attempts of Barrett King to use his belt to cradle the leg of the dangling right ankle and prevent further damage being done.
Shock had rooted her to the ground until a piercing green gaze stabbed her. 'Get a vet, dammit!' Barrett commanded.
When she first turned to race towards the stables, her legs almost crumbled beneath her. and for one horrified moment, Dani thought she was incapable of action. Then she was running, fighting back the sobs to gasp for breath.
There was no reality in the next thirty minutes. She couldn't consciously remember reaching Doc Langley's office on the race grounds, nor his clipped orders that sent his assistants scurrying to get the special horse van on the track. Vaguely Dani recalled the large hypodermic needle puncturing the cedar-red coat of The Rogue to sedate him, an indication that she must have accompanied the vet to the track. Snatches of conversation were jumbled in her mind, talk of X-rays and consulting Doctor Hamilton. Mostly there were grimly foreboding expressions.
When the daze lifted, Dani found her unseeing gaze was watching the slowly twirling racing goggles in the swarthy hand of Manny Herrera. A film of dust darkened his complexion except where the goggles had been. She was seated in a chair beside him, her fingers digging into the wooden arms. How she got there she had no idea. With an effort Dani raised her eyes from the hypnotic movement of the goggles, her nose registering the medicinal scent of the vet's office as her gaze spied the bowed head of her father.
'Lew?' Her voice was a plaintive whisper. She couldn't remember the last time she had called him Dad or Father.
When his greying head lifted, Dani saw the shattered, broken look in his eyes, the look of an old man who had suffered the final defeat, his spirit broken and his soul gone, leaving the hollow remnants of a man.
'His leg is broken,' his flat voice answered.
She had known that, but a violent shudder racked her slender body. With difficulty she swallowed the lump in her throat.
'That doesn't mean he has to be destroyed,' she asserted vigorously. Acid tears suddenly burned her eyes. 'Broken legs can be healed. It isn't hopeless!'
But her
father only looked on her blankly and lowered his head in his hands.
'Remember when Swaps broke his leg.' The words were a plea not to give up. 'The doctors can fix The Rogue, too. You'll see. He'll race again, I know it. I know it!'
The door opened and Doctor Langley walked in. 'Lew.' The vet's gaze met none of the others in the room, settling immediately on the man hunched forward in his chair.
'Yes.' Her father's voice seemed to come from some deep, empty cavern as he acknowledged the man without raising his head.
'Hamilton aha I have studied the X-rays thoroughly. There isn't any hope.' The blunt sentence was deliberately clipped as the raw edges of his tone sawed through the air.
Dani stared at the elderly doctor in disbelief. Her head moved in a sharp negative movement to the side as if to shake off his verdict. Then her father's tight voice sliced the room.
'Do what you have to do.'
Dr Langley started to turn back to the door. Dani bounded to her feet.
'No!' she shrieked. 'There must be something you can do. You aren't going to destroy The Rogue I…'
'I'm sorry.' The vet's expression was sadly firm as he reluctantly brought his gaze to bear on Dani. 'There's nothing left of his ankle bones but a thousand tiny fragments.'
A trembling rage took possession of her. She refused to accept his statement. Her breath was coming in quick, painful spasms as her head kept moving from side to side.
'I don't believe you,' she said hoarsely.
Her mind vaguely registered the pitying glances of other commiserating horsemen in the room. There was a movement in the doorway and Barrett King entered the room, tall and compelling. Resentment boiled as she saw the rueful nod of the vet in Barrett's direction, answering the unasked question that was evidently in the green eyes.
'You're to blame for this.' Dani turned her trembling temper on the auburn-haired man. 'How much did you pay him to have The Rogue destroyed? You tried to buy him and we wouldn't sell.' Her shaking legs traversed the short distance to stand in front of him, her head thrown back, tears glimmering in the corners of his eyes. 'You got your revenge, didn't you? They're going to kill him! They're going to kill him!'
Her tight fists began pummelling his chest, beating against the solid wall with all her strength. Lights exploded around her, then hands were closing over her arms trying to draw her away from him, but distantly, she heard Barrett King's voice saying, 'Let her be.' And the hands let her go.
Slowly her cries of anger and hatred gave way to sobs of pain and anguish. Beneath her, Dani felt her knees begin to buckle before a pair of strong arms slipped around in support and she was drawn against that hard wall she had tried to knock down.
'Go ahead, kid,' a comforting voice said near her ear. 'Cry it all out.'
Behind her eyes, there were more explosions of light and she sobbed wildly, hearing nothing but the steady beat behind the wall and the racking sounds in her throat. As the force of her grief began to subside, she heard a door close. Opening her tear-drenched eyes, she focused her gaze beyond the loden green material around her and on her father. A man was standing beside him. She couldn't say how she knew, but some inner voice told her he was the consultant vet, Dr Hamilton.
Dani didn't need to see the sudden crumpling of her father to know that the man had come to tell him it was over. The Rogue was dead. Her hands crept to her ears, as if covering them would prevent the news reaching her. She heard someone scream 'No!' then realized it came from herself. Then there was a strange buzzing in her ears and waves of blackness washed over her while strong arms tightened their hold.
Chapter Two
THE bed was strange and totally unfamiliar. Dani blinked and glanced around the room, trying to remember which hotel they were staying in this time. One glance at the sterile walls and the crisp sheets covering her told her she was in a hospital. Mentally she checked out her body to discover where she was hurt, only to decide that the only thing troubling her was the throbbing in her head.
Had The Rogue kicked her? she wondered. A nauseous wave consumed her as she remembered The Rogue was dead, mercifully destroyed because he had shattered the bones in his ankle. With a painful moan, she turned her head into the starched pillows and let the tears slip from her hazel eyes. But she didn't cry nor sob, despite the dull, disbelieving ache in her heart.
Twisting her head back, she stared unblinkingly at the snow-white ceiling, not bothering to wipe the fresh tears from her cheeks and not caring how tousled her short brown hair was because of the way she had pushed her head back against the pillow. Footsteps sounded near her door, slow defeated footsteps. Before they entered her room, she knew they belonged to her father.
'Hello, Danielle,' her father greeted quietly. No smile turned up the corners of his mouth and there was no light in his eyes.
'Hello, Lew,' she answered.
An uneasy silence came between them. A week ago she wouldn't have given a thought to how old her father was. Now, looking at the small, broken man, she tried to remember if he was fifty-six or fifty-seven. He looked much older than that.
'Why am I here?' she asked finally.
'You collapsed. The shock of…of…'
His voice broke again and Dani didn't force him to say the words. 'I see,' she murmured. 'When can I leave?'
'They want you to stay overnight. It's the best thing—considering,' he sighed.
'Considering what? I'm all right now.'
'You might as well take advantage of the peace and quiet while you can,' her father said cryptically, his unnaturally pale face caught her questioning look. 'There were a bunch of newspaper reporters at the vet's. Your picture and Barrett King's are plastered all over the paper.'
Then Dani remembered those strange explosions of light that had seemed so much a part of the nightmare of her memory. Obviously they had been flashbulbs. She shrunk inwardly at the recollection of her attack on Barrett King and the vile accusations she had made.
Logically she could reason that her attack had been caused by the need to strike back—at anyone. Her total dislike of Barrett King had made him the likely choice. She felt no regret for what she had done, only that it had been witnessed by outsiders. She tried to catch her father's gaze, but he refused to meet hers.
'Why do you hate him so much?' he sighed.
Her quick retort was instinctive. 'Because he breathes.' Normally her sharp wit would have brought a reluctant smile to her father's face, but this time his head moved wearily in despair. 'I'm sorry, Lew,' Dani spoke hesitantly, her chin lowering itself to rest on her chest. 'That man simply rubs me the wrong way.'
'I wish we would have sold The Rogue to him.'
'What are you saying?' She gasped in sharply at her father's traitorous statement. Her head jerked upward as she tried to fathom the blank expression of the man gazing sightlessly at the drawn curtains of the hospital window.
'Your mother was right about me.' He ignored her question and continued speaking in that same emotionless tone. 'If I entered a one-man race, I'd lose. I'm a loser. I wasn't any good as a jockey. Only fools hired me to train their horses. Those hayburners we own aren't fit to be called Thoroughbreds. A man like me had no right to own The Rogue.'
'No!' But her whispering protest was for his self-flagellation.
'It's the truth.' Brown eyes were turned on Dani. Mirrors of the soul, they had been called. There was no reflection, just deep, bottomless pools of brown intensified by the sunken hollows surrounding them. 'I was given a spirited young filly to raise—you, Dani. And what did I do? I gave you free rein. I never tried to curb you or control your fiery temper. I even ignored the rudiments of grooming. You aren't to blame for the way you acted today. I am.'
Tears began to scald her eyes again. 'Don't say things like that!'
'What do you know, girl? Horses, that's all you know,' he answered for her. 'You eat, sleep, and smell like horses. You don't know what it is to be a woman or a lady. How could you? You've never known any.'
Dani watched in horrified silence as a shaking hand reached inside the jacket of his worn suit. Wide, frightened eyes saw the crumpled wad of bills being pushed towards her, shoved by cold fingers into her resisting palm.
'When you leave the hospital tomorrow morning, I don't want you to come to the track. I don't want you to go near one ever again.' His voice was trembling as badly as his hands, but the fervour in it was undeniable. 'I want you to take this money and make a new life for yourself. Get an apartment, a job, or go to school. Live like a normal person, not a gypsy.'
'Where did you get this?' she demanded hoarsely as the folded bills flipped open and she realized there was at least two or three thousand dollars in her hand.
'I sold the horses…all except the mare. All I know is racing. I don't know anything else,' he mumbled brokenly. 'But you're young. You can make a new start, a new life.' A tear trickled out of the corner of his eye, unnoticed. 'You're a fighter—like The Rogue. You can be something. But not if you stick with me. I'll drag you down and you'll be a nothing, a loser just like me.'
'No, Daddy, no!' She scurried forward, her hands reaching out for him, unconscious that she had not called him Lew, but he drew back from the bed.
'Promise me you'll have nothing to do with horses. They'll break your heart and your spirit. Promise me.'
'I promise.' She shook her head firmly, almost blinded by tears.
'I'm leaving tonight. I don't know where I'm going or when I'll see you again,' he continued absently. 'The track is crawling with reporters. I can't stand to talk about…' For a long minute, his eyes rested on her bewildered face. 'Goodbye, Dani.'
Before she realized it, he had left the room. She tried to call him back, but she couldn't get anything to come out of her knotted muscles in her throat. Clutching the money in her hand, she pushed back the sheet and scrambled to her feet, the bottom of the hospital gown flapping strangely around her bare knees. No longer stunned by his announcement, she felt the need to go after her father and convince him that nothing he said was true.