She Can Tell

by Melinda Leigh

  “We’ve been over this before.” Rachel turned. Her eyes flashed. “The horse is too much for her. She needs a calmer, more forgiving mount. No amount of training is going to make that horse docile.”

  The man’s mouth tightened. “That animal cost a great deal of money. It is the best. My daughter deserves only the best. Perhaps she isn’t trying hard enough.” The man’s black eyes narrowed. His lips compressed as the girl and horse disappeared into the barn.

  “She’s going to get hurt. Lucia simply doesn’t have the experience to handle that horse yet, and the animal knows it. You are welcome to find someone else to train them both.”

  “I don’t want anyone else to teach them,” he said. “Lucia will learn.”

  Rachel’s jaw clenched as if she were biting back an impolite retort. “I’m going to try him in a stronger bit.”

  “As you wish.” He inclined his head, a glimmer of triumph in his eyes.

  Rachel turned her back on him and stalked away, her frustration evident in the stiffness of her posture.

  Rachel caught Mike’s eye and tilted her head toward the house. Mike followed her across the back lawn.

  Sean fell into step next to him and leaned close. “I really like her.”

  “She could be a little less abrasive.” Mike glanced back at the South American, who was glaring at Rachel’s back. Had she crossed tempers with anyone else lately?

  Rachel strode across the lawn. She’d talk to the cop and his blond buddy as soon as she cooled off. Her shoulder throbbed from the effort of putting the gray over the jumps. So much for her earlier vow against impulsive decisions.

  Angering Lucia’s father again hadn’t been wise either. Yes, Cristan Rojas was an arrogant jerk, but he was a rich arrogant jerk. She couldn’t afford to annoy him. Not with the kind of money he was paying her to coach his daughter and train that unruly horse. Though why he was willing pay her considerable training fees was a mystery. The man wigged out every time she gave him her opinion or answered a question.

  Rachel gnashed her teeth. Didn’t matter. She had to speak her mind. As she well knew, riding was a dangerous sport. She’d hate to see the young girl get seriously hurt. Plus, Lucia would enjoy herself and progress must faster on a more appropriate mount. Impulsive or not, Rachel had made the right decision telling Lucia’s father the truth, although she could work on her delivery. Sarah would’ve been able to get the point across without a confrontation.

  Rachel stopped short as she approached the back of the house. Sarah stood at the door. A spark of anger lurked behind her shiner.

  Uh-oh. Sarah had been watching. Bandit yapped and darted out to greet Rachel. She grabbed him before he spotted Rojas down by the barn. A bitten ankle wouldn’t improve her client’s mood.

  “Rachel, you promised.” Sarah blocked the door with her body. “No more jumping.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Rachel halted on the stoop. “I didn’t know what else to do. That guy needed to be taught a lesson.”

  “What if you fell?” Sarah propped her good hand on her hip.

  Yeah. Unfortunately, that possibility had never crossed Rachel’s mind. Consequences rarely did. “I didn’t.”

  “But what if you did? You almost died last time. You know what the doctor said. If you fall again…” Sarah’s eyes didn’t waver as she paused for a breath.

  Rachel didn’t respond. She was freaking Humpty Dumpty. All the king’s horses and so on.

  “You’re not supposed to ride at all. I know you’ll never agree to that, but jumping is just plain stupid. You have to put yourself before those horses. I can’t sit in another ICU wondering if you’re going to live. You want me to leave Troy so I don’t get hurt, but you’re not willing to take the same care of yourself.”

  Guilt sat like a sandbag in Rachel’s belly. “You’re right. I won’t forget again.” Sarah didn’t need another worry. She’d been in such a good mood at lunch, and Rachel had botched it. Not to mention the fact that Rachel had provoked anger in the most even-tempered person on earth. Sarah’s eyes flickered over Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel froze. They’d just treated the cop and his buddy to a ringside view of a private family argument.

  Sarah moved aside to let them all into the kitchen. Bandit leapt out of Rachel’s arms, growled at the blond guy, then spotted Mike and went all wags and snuffles. He even had the dog charmed. Rachel turned to face the men.

  She gave Mike a cold and silent nod as he introduced her to the super-buff blond. “Sean is going to give you an estimate on an alarm system.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Sean held out a hand. A fist-sized emblem on the chest of his white polo shirt read Wilson Security. The guy was lean as an Olympic decathlete, and behind the friendly smile was a sharp, predatory gleam. She’d bet Sean didn’t learn about security from an online course.

  “I appreciate you fitting us in so quickly.” Rachel shook his hand. “How long do you need?”

  “Couple of hours.” Sean’s serious eyes gave the room a critical scan. “Old houses can be a challenge.”

  “Rachel, can you afford this?” Sarah filled a sandwich bag with ice.

  “Yes, don’t worry about it.”

  Doubt invaded Sarah’s new bossy attitude. “I don’t want you to go into debt because of us.”

  Rachel touched Sarah’s arm. “I have it covered. I’m not going into debt, I promise.” She faced Sean. “I want my family safe. So, whatever it takes.”

  Sean gave her an approving nod. Rachel popped a couple of painkillers and took the ice pack from Sarah. Bandit raced Rachel to the door. She blocked him with her foot. “Oh no. Not without a leash. Not after this morning.”

  Mike followed her outside. The security guy was right behind him.

  Mike caught up with her in a couple of strides. “Your student’s father seemed angry.”

  She pressed the ice pack to her shoulder. Ahhh. “He isn’t used to anyone standing up to him.”

  His eyes dropped to the cold pack. “You all right?”

  “Fine. Old injury.”

  “You should be more careful. What do you know about him?”

  Rachel stopped. “Oh, don’t even go there. Cristan Rojas wouldn’t stoop to writing dirty words on my barn.”

  “Still, making people mad isn’t a smart thing to do.”

  “Probably not,” Rachel agreed. “But just because he’s South American doesn’t make him a drug lord.”

  “Maybe not, but how well do you know him?”

  “Not that well,” she admitted. She doubted Rojas was dangerous, but Mike’s words gave her a twinge of doubt. Someone was out to get her. Could she be wrong about Rojas?

  Mike stopped her with a hand on her good arm. “You’re not involved with him, are you?”

  “What do you mean involved?” Rachel narrowed her eyes at his hand. His grip was gentle but firm enough to withstand her tug.

  “Dating him. Flirting with him.” Mike’s eyes went flat. “Sleeping with him.”

  “Look, He-Man. You and I need to get something straight. I’m not flirting, dating, or sleeping with anyone.” She rotated her arm to break his hold, then stabbed him in the center of his chest with a forefinger. “And even if I were, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

  “I’m just trying to eliminate possible suspects.”

  “Sure you are.” Holding the ice firmly against her shoulder again, she whirled and stomped toward the barn.

  Behind her, she heard Sean say, “Did I mention how much I like her?”

  “Shut up.” The short laugh that Mike couldn’t quite stifle took the heat out of his retort. He watched Rachel enter the barn, toss her bag of ice into the trash, and lead her pretty mare into the aisle. She leaned on the horse’s neck, her shoulders collapsing forward as if she were seeking comfort. Had he been too harsh with her? No. Wait. She was the one who’d chewed him out.

  Sean went to work. Mike turned at the rumble of a large engine. A white horse van bumped up the rutted drive
and parked next to the barn. A slim, silvery-blond man in breeches, boots, and a red polo jumped out of the shotgun seat and strode toward Rachel, still in the barn aisle with her horse. The driver alighted, going to the side of the vehicle, unhooking latches, and lowering a ramp.

  New horses arriving?

  On the way to his vehicle, Mike glanced at Rachel. Her face had gone to stone as she led the mare forward to meet the blond. He opened his door, then paused, listening. Something was up.

  Rachel stopped a few feet from the guy. “Thanks for coming, Blake.”

  Blake Webb? As in her former boss and the owner of Fleet O’ Feet?

  Her former boss compressed the color from his lips. Oh, yeah. Blake Webb had more than a former employer’s interest in Rachel. Looked like the tabloids were right. The tension that gathered in Mike’s gut had nothing to do with a medical condition. It was jealousy, pure and simple, roaring through his blood in a way he’d never before experienced. He beat it back with common sense. Nothing was going to happen between Rachel and him anyway. So what did it matter if Blake Webb had a thing for her?

  Mike’s heart did a quick flip when Rachel’s expression showed no returning interest. But her face was tight and alarmingly pale. Something was wrong. He closed the car door.

  “You don’t have to do this, Rachel. I’ll give you the money,” Blake said.

  Tightlipped, Rachel gave her head a quick shake. “No, thanks.”

  Everything clicked into place, and with a sick realization, Mike knew why Blake Webb was here.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rachel handed Blake the rope, and with that single act, the bright future she’d envisioned six months ago dimmed. She’d gone over her finances a dozen times. There wasn’t any other way. Lady was the only asset on her balance sheet worth enough money to make a difference. Bedsides, Blake would take good care of her. He loved horses as much as she did, which was one of the reasons their friendship had meant so much to her. And why losing it had hurt so much. Eyes burning, she turned her face toward the meadow.

  “Rachel. Don’t do this. I’ll loan you the money if you won’t just take it,” Blake said.

  Business transaction or not, sadness sealed her throat, choking off any response.

  “Come on. You love this horse. I don’t want you to give her up because you’re helping your sister.”

  Lady nudged her arm. Rachel took a step back. No farewell pat. This was business, just business.

  “We both know she’s not just a horse to you.”

  “I don’t have a choice, Blake. For those of us without a billion-dollar trust fund, the world’s a rough place.” The verbal jab was low, and throwing it at him compounded her misery. Her head ached, and her throat was clogged.

  Blake’s face flushed. He handed the horse off to the driver. Anger flared in his eyes as he pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Likewise. But we did a damn fine job of it anyway.” She closed her fingers around the envelope and waited to feel some relief. This money was going to keep her out of debt and ensure Sarah didn’t lose her kids. But the pressure didn’t abate. It swelled, expanding from her throat into her chest until she could barely breathe. She had to get away. From the future she was handing over. From Blake and the feelings he still had for her. From the past she couldn’t leave behind no matter how hard she tried. Rachel spun on one heel and headed toward the barn. He caught up with her in a few long strides.

  “Rachel. Stop. Please.” He tapped her left shoulder. Pain sang through her arm. She winced, welcoming the ability of the white-hot sting to override her emotions. She spun around to face him.

  Blake frowned. “That shouldn’t have hurt. What have you been doing to yourself?” Worry replaced anger in his tone. Shit. She hated it when she was a bitch and people were nice to her anyway.

  “Leave me alone, Blake.” Rachel pivoted and continued to walk away.

  “Goddamn it, Rachel.” Blake jogged after her. “I told you this would be too much work for you.”

  “I didn’t ask you for your opinion,” she said without turning around.

  “Did you at least hire some help to do the heavy stuff?” He lowered his voice. “I’m worried about you.”

  If she looked at his face and saw the emotion that she knew would still be there, even after everything that had passed between them, the pressure cooker inside her was going to blow. Rachel stared at the mud on her boots for a few seconds while Blake’s gaze seared her face.

  “Lady will be at my place when you come to your senses.” He sounded disgusted. “And when you pick her up, you could visit Fleet. He’s missed you.”

  She lifted her chin and watched him stride back to the van and climb into the back to check on the horse before securing the ramp and door.

  Rachel turned back to the barn. She’d give Lady up, but watching her horse’s departure was too much. She stepped into the cool shade of the barn.

  “Did you really have to do that?”

  She stiffened. Mike. He was still here? Fan-frigging-tastic. She jerked her chin up and sniffed. “Sarah needs a lawyer yesterday. Troy can’t get custody of those kids.”

  Troy shouldn’t be allowed to keep pets or barnyard animals, let alone children. Why did loving people so frequently require ripping one’s soul completely open?

  Her gaze shifted to the empty stall. She walked inside and stood in the center. Her heart felt empty, as if its center had been carved out and tossed aside like a pumpkin.

  The heat from his body wafted across the humid fall air, the smell of his aftershave cutting through the hay dust, the tug of her hollowed-out heart toward something that could mend it.

  His hands were on her waist. Gently, carefully avoiding her sore shoulder, he eased her closer. Her back hit the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest. His arms folded around her. Her body went stiff for a few seconds, automatically protesting the confinement. Warmth seeped through her T-shirt into her skin. She turned and pressed her face into his chest. A shudder passed through her, then a single sob, muffled by his shirt. She breathed him—and an unsettling peace—in.

  His chin dropped onto the top of her head. His palms flexed on her back muscles, stroking and soothing. He pulled her closer. This time she yielded immediately and leaned against him, letting him support some of her weight. Something eased deep in her chest. The power in the sensation was unfamiliar, addictive—and disturbing. She could stay right there for a long time.

  Panic sluiced over her like a cold hose. She froze and pushed off his abs with one hand.

  “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  Mike let her go. His empty arms dropped to his sides. “OK.”

  She swiped a hand across her face, as if wiping away the evidence of whatever had just transpired. In three steps, she left the stall and what had passed between them behind. “Blake’ll tell you. I’m not capable of…” She waved a hand back and forth between them. “This.”

  For a few seconds, he stood dumbstruck. He’d expected the punch of lust when she was in his arms, but the tenderness she evoked from him was shocking. Selling that horse was breaking her heart, and he felt every fissure as if it were happening to him.

  Mike stepped into the aisle. His gaze fell to the envelope in her clenched fist. She’d crushed it. Rachel blinked at the crumpled paper. A muscle in her jaw jumped as she smoothed it out with her fingers and opened it.

  Mike caught a glimpse of the check. Webb had paid her thirty thousand dollars for that horse. On top of the check was a business card for Rising Star Farms. A name and number were handwritten across the bottom. He put aside the uncomfortable stuff churning in his gut. Her personal and financial situations weren’t his concern. Nor was her emotional state. His job was to find her stalker and protect her. That’s it. If she could ignore the connection between them, so could he. Really. “What’s the story with Webb?”

  “Blake used to be my boss and my friend.” Her voi
ce was quiet and lacked its usual hard edge.

  “He seemed like more than a friend.” Which still bugged him.

  She stared at her boots. “We were together for a while.”

  The way she said “together” irritated him even more. “What happened between you?”

  “He wanted more than I could give.” Rachel shifted her weight and focused on the wall over his shoulder. Clearly, she hadn’t told him the whole story. Was her ex angry or desperate enough to try to make Rachel’s farm fail, thinking she’d have nowhere else to go but back to him? How badly did Webb want her back?

  “What did you do?” An angry voice drew their attention to the doorway. Sarah walked into the barn. She glanced over her shoulder at the retreating horse van. Her face locked in horror. “You didn’t sell that horse, did you?”

  Rachel’s gaze jerked away from her sister, an obvious admission that she had. “Buying and selling horses is part of the business.”

  Sarah blanched. “Oh my God!” Her voice rose, full of anger and insult. “You did. Why didn’t you talk to me first?”

  “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to find the money elsewhere.” Rachel reached into her back pocket and pulled out the business card. “Here’s the lawyer Blake recommended. Call him.”

  “Damn it, Rachel. I know I’m in a bind, but you can’t just ruin your life to fix everything in mine. I won’t let you,” Sarah protested. But she snatched the card from Rachel’s hand before stomping out of the barn.

  Rachel stood completely still for a full minute, then turned and faced Mike. “Did you need anything else? I have to go to the bank.”

  He shook his head, and she retreated to the house.

  Mike drove back to the station and locked himself in his office to deal with paperwork, but as he reviewed reports and signed forms, his mind was fixated on Rachel. She claimed to be incapable of loving anyone. Her relationship with her sister and nieces said otherwise, as did her willingness to give everything she had for her family. She was quick tempered but held her deeper emotions in check. Except for that one moment, when she’d let him in. That brief surrender, those few seconds when she’d allowed him to comfort her, had lodged under his skin.