“I want to enroll Grace in daily lessons.”
He spoke as if her grandfather ran a formal stable.
“Gramps hasn’t given lessons in years,” she said. “And sorry but we don’t have a suitable lesson horse.”
“I can ride Digger!” Grace scrambled from her chair and wrapped her arms around her father’s neck. “Thanks, Dad.”
They acted as if money could buy everything. And usually the Sutherland money could. Cassie shook her head and looked at her grandfather, anticipating his blunt refusal.
But Gramps just leaned back in his chair and nodded. “Grace wants to have fun with a horse,” he said. “I can’t help her right now but you’re here, Cassie. Seems a shame if you couldn’t take the time to teach her a thing or two. Especially since teaching kids is what you enjoy the most.”
His reproachful tone made her stiffen. Obviously he and Alex had talked while she was down at the brook, and whatever differences they had were resolved. But her grandfather’s defection stung. He and Alex had always seemed to partner up, simply because they shared a masculine view. It had bothered her then, and it bothered her even more now.
Especially since this involved Rachel’s daughter. And lessons might be good for Grace but they wouldn’t be good for her.
She shot a hard look at Alex. Last night he hadn’t wanted to see her again. And if she were honest, that’s what hurt. He cared about his daughter’s happiness but Cassie was expendable. Always had been.
“Grace,” she said, “would you please go inside and fill the water pitcher?”
Grace gave an obliging nod and scooped up the pitcher. Cassie waited until the girl was inside and out of ear shot.
“I’ll teach Grace,” she said to Alex, “but you’ll have to sign a waiver. And I still don’t believe Digger is quiet enough. It will only undermine his training and make him harder to sell. So my lessons will be expensive.” She quoted an absurdly high price but Alex didn’t even blink.
“Also,” she pulled in a deep breath. She no longer had proof after Alex had erased her phone recording—and he seemed to trust that she wouldn’t be so sneaky that she’d try to record Grace again. However, this last condition was non-negotiable. “I don’t want Rachel around Digger,” she said, “or anywhere on our property, not after how she treated Ginger.”
Alex didn’t deny Rachel’s cruelty, or even try to defend her. “I’ll be the one to drive Grace,” he said. “I just want her to have fun. You’ve always been the best person for that. And I’ll find a more suitable horse after you evaluate her riding. You won’t have to worry about Digger for long.” Then he gave a reassuring smile, his expression surprisingly tender.
Cassie wrapped her hands around her water glass, fighting the urge to press it against her warm forehead. He had no business looking at her like that. It left her hot, edgy and confused. She’d hoped a chauffeur would drive Grace. But a part of her leaped at the thought that Alex would be around.
Of course, his presence would help Gramps. It was always beneficial to be in the Sutherlands’ good graces. And if she rekindled Grace’s love of riding, Alex might be so pleased he’d ask Santiago to give Ginger another try. Maybe he’d even tell the Club to remove Ginger from their black list.
She set down her glass with a decisive thump. “All right,” she said. “Have Grace here tomorrow at eight.” And because it felt good to have power for a change, she couldn’t resist adding, “And don’t be late. Or you’ll have to clean the stalls again.”
His chuckle was quick and amused, and so damn attractive she couldn’t help but smile back.
Ten minutes later he and Grace drove down the driveway, and she was finally free to hold the glass against her hot forehead and try to steady her breathing.
“It’ll be nice having a kid around again,” her grandfather said, watching the car disappear beyond the trees. “Alex spent a lot of time here. Makes sense his daughter would like it too.”
“I suppose,” Cassie said. “I’m surprised you’d want Grace here though. Her mother deliberately hurt Ginger. And she caused a lot of trouble for you.”
“But Alex already talked to the president. Jonathon Stiles called this morning and apologized for any misunderstanding. He assured me Ginger wouldn’t be on their banned list. Rachel realized she was wearing the wrong spurs for such a well-trained and willing horse.”
Cassie jerked forward, almost dropping her glass. “Rachel said that?”
“Apparently almost verbatim. So Ginger is allowed to compete at the Club again. With any rider.”
“So the college sale could still happen?”
“Yes.” Gramps gave a satisfied nod. “And now that Grace is coming here, Rachel will have to be on her best behavior.”
Cassie leaned back in her chair, relieved that Gramps knew what he was doing. She’d been worrying about the polo club, the lies Rachel might be spreading. But the fact that Rachel accepted the blame meant she listened to Alex. Not only had he looked after their trailer, he’d made Rachel call the Club before Cassie even agreed to teach their daughter.
Just because he hadn’t said much about Ginger’s condition, and had destroyed the phone evidence, hadn’t meant he condoned it. She’d forgotten how loyal he was—to his friends, family and animals.
“I don’t imagine Rachel liked that much,” Gramps went on, his tone gleeful. “Being forced to call the Club and publicly announce she’d ridden poorly.”
“No,” Cassie said slowly. “I’m sure she didn’t.”
“Nothing she can do though.” Gramps chuckled and folded his hands over his lap. “Ginger’s here now. All our horses are safe.”
Cassie gave a little nod. But she couldn’t forget Rachel’s cold eyes and how people like Santiago jumped to do her bidding. And she shifted in her chair, jerking forward and then back again, not quite as comfortable as her grandfather.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The sun beat down on Grace’s shiny new helmet, dust rising in spirals as she trotted Digger in the round pen.
“Sit up,” Cassie said. “Remember to look where you’re going. Digger will move in the direction of your eyes.”
Grace glanced to her left and Digger immediately changed direction, so fast she had to grab his mane to stay on.
“Wicked,” Grace said, awkwardly repositioning herself in the saddle. “It’s cool how he turns on his own. I just wish he didn’t do it so fast.”
And that was the problem. Digger was too well trained. Not only was Grace perilously close to falling off, it wasn’t good for Digger. Her grandfather had worked countless hours to fine-tune the horse to a rider’s commands, and Cassie didn’t want to dull Digger down. Especially since there was a possibility the college would still consider him for their polo team. Those riders would need a responsive horse.
At least Grace was smiling. She didn’t seem in the least bit afraid and Digger was a good-natured horse, the type who tried hard to please his rider. Even if he didn’t understand why she kept bouncing around in the saddle.
“May I try riding with a polo mallet tomorrow?” Grace asked.
“Not yet.” Cassie jumped down from her perch on the top rail. “It’s best to practice hitting the ball on the ground first. Without horses.”
“Okay,” Grace said. “Is that how you learned?”
“Yes, and I chased hundreds of balls on foot.” In fact, Alex had paid her a dollar for every ball she retrieved. She thought he had a horrible shot, always losing them in the tall grass. It wasn’t until later that she realized he’d been trying to slip her some extra cash without offending her grandfather. And both he and Gramps had been adamant about not letting her carry a mallet until they were sure she wouldn’t hit her horse’s legs. “After I finish the groundwork,” Grace said, stopping Digger beside Cassie. “I want to try a belly shot. They look cool.”
“No,” Cassie said. “Not on my grandfather’s horse.”
“But Mom does them all the time.”
Cas
sie’s mouth tightened. It wasn’t surprising Rachel took risky shots. Swinging into a horse’s legs required considerable finesse…and a rider needed to be very wealthy to replace all the horses that were lamed up.
“Is that really what you want to do with a horse?” Cassie asked, thinking of all the other riding disciplines Grace might like. “Play polo?”
“Yes.” Grace gave an emphatic nod. “Some day I want to be as good as Mom. But I never want to play in front of strangers. And I don’t want to ride at home. I prefer quiet places, like here.”
Where no one could see her, Cassie thought. Although obviously Grace didn’t worry about riding in front of her dad.
Cassie glanced over her shoulder. Alex sat with her grandfather on the porch, within view of the round pen but thankfully not too close. Even from this distance though she was acutely aware of his presence. Could catch the rich timbre of his voice. She’d always loved that voice, how he could keep it level in any situation. She’d only seen him truly upset twice. The first when his parents died and the second when he came to her house to tell her about Rachel…
She turned her back to the verandah. She and Gramps were being paid top dollar for these lessons, and Grace deserved the full deal. Certainly not an instructor who was distracted by a man’s voice—the girl’s father, no less.
“Are there any other kids who ride at your stable?” Cassie asked. Sometimes the mere presence of boys caused girls to worry about trivial things. She remembered complaining to Alex about not being invited to a classmate’s party because the invites only went out to girls with big boobs. The very next day her red-faced grandfather had driven her into town to buy her first bra.
“No other kids,” Grace said. “Just Mom and Santiago and the grooms. But they’re all old. And I don’t like to ride in front of them. So I’m not going to. Ever.” Her voice quivered and Digger tossed his head, picking up on her agitation.
“I understand,” Cassie said quickly. But she didn’t. The Sutherland Estate was a horse lovers’ paradise with two riding arenas, a gallop track and a polo field along with miles of private trails. The tack and viewing room resembled a penthouse suite with air conditioning, hot and cold drinks, and fresh fruit delivered daily. Not to mention a beautiful barn filled with top-notch horses. Although it was unlikely any of the Sutherland polo ponies would be a good mount for a beginner.
Grace was comfortable with walk, trot and canter but only if Digger didn’t make any sudden moves. And she wanted to swing a mallet but not worry about her horse taking off at an aggressive gallop. She needed a sound, level-minded animal that wouldn’t be confused by a rider’s mistakes. But one who was trained for polo. And a horse like that was hard to find. People rarely sold them. They placed them with trusted friends or, if they were lucky enough to have the resources, kept them as a cherished member of the family.
“It’s really hot,” Grace said. “Can we go down to the brook before lunch? I know the way. Maybe I can ride Digger by myself?”
Cassie swiped at her forehead and reached for the lead line. She was hot and hungry and needed to make Gramps lunch, but there was no way Grace could ride Digger alone down that path. “No, I’ll lead you,” she said. “Digger can move fast. He wouldn’t even know he was doing anything wrong.”
“But I didn’t fall off once today,” Grace said. “I thought we were doing great.”
“You are,” Cassie said. “Both of you. But he’s not a child’s horse. I think your dad is looking for something more suitable.”
It would take a while to find an appropriate horse though, even with Alex’s money. Especially since Grace wanted to meander down to the brook, then turn around and hit a ball in an unfenced field. Polo ponies weren’t lazy. Or slow. And a swinging mallet would only fire them up. It was like putting a racehorse in a starting gate and expecting them to come out at a sedate walk.
If Gramps were healthier, he could train a horse for Grace. Matching horses with riders had always been his specialty. Or maybe she could do it…
But this was crazy. She gave her head a shake. Rachel employed Santiago, a six-goal handicap player from Argentina. She hadn’t hired him only for his looks; the man was truly a wizard on a horse. Surely he could teach a quiet horse to accept a swinging mallet? It sure seemed Grace was long overdue for a horse of her own.
“Have you ever played polo?” Cassie asked curiously. “With your mom or dad?”
“With Dad, a long time ago when I had a pony. It was fun too. But Mom thought it best if I quit, you know. It was only wasting his time since I can’t ever play on a real team.”
She spoke so matter-of-factly Cassie could only stare in confusion. There were always youth teams, family teams and mixed teams. Players’ handicaps were added together so everyone could compete. Riders were restricted only by time and money, and clearly Grace wouldn’t have that problem.
“Why can’t you play on a team?”
“I’m left-handed,” Grace said. “So Mom and I decided it was best that I stop riding. But we can’t tell Dad.” Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “He gets mad easy, and we don’t want him to make Mom move out.”
Cassie just gaped in disbelief, then realized she’d stopped breathing. And that she was staring too hard at Grace who, of course, looked away and quit talking.
“I see,” Cassie said, looking down and adjusting the lead line. But her mind whirled. When Grace was relaxed, she let out nuggets of information. It was much like peeling an onion, with Rachel the center of a rather stinky core. But was the woman so self centered that she’d manipulate her own daughter?
Part of Cassie wanted to probe. But it was wrong to pump a kid for information. And it still hurt to hear Alex and Rachel linked in the same sentence. She didn’t want to feel like this, had told herself she was over him. But she’d probably always love Alex.
Despair rose in a wave. More reason not to get too close to Grace who was obviously just desperate for a friend. It would only end badly. But Cassie couldn’t let Grace keep thinking she could never play polo.
“I’m left-handed,” Cassie said quietly. “But I learned to swing the mallet in my other hand. And you’re younger than when I started so it’ll be easier for you to learn.”
“You’re a leftie like me?” Grace’s eyes widened. “But Dad said you’re a good player.”
“I was okay. And you can be even better if that’s what you want.”
Grace’s eyes remained an incredulous blue. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Mom told me I could never play—” Her gaze shot over Digger’s head and she clamped her mouth shut and straightened in the saddle.
“Your grandfather ate his lunch,” Alex said, his voice coming behind them. “And went inside for a nap.”
Cassie glanced over her shoulder. Alex stood by the rail. Today he’d replaced his dress shirt and tailored pants with jeans and a T-shirt, and it was obvious he’d do anything to encourage Grace to ride again. Even if it meant reaching into the back of his closet.
He probably had no idea Rachel had filled Grace’s head with ridiculous ideas. And Grace said she was afraid her dad would get angry. Yet Alex was the most level person Cassie had ever met. She’d always appreciated his composure, especially since Gramps was so gruff.
“I brought sandwiches,” Alex said, holding up a silver thermal bag. “It’s hot so I thought we should walk down to the brook and eat.”
“You two go,” Cassie said. “I’ll grab something inside. Just be sure to keep Digger on a lead line.”
“Okay,” Alex said. “But be careful not to wake your grandfather. He’s lying on the sofa. And we did bring your favorite sandwich.”
“Peanut butter and banana?”
“No, lobster.”
Cassie’s head shot up.
“We have pecan squares too,” he added, his gaze intent on her face. “I recall you once ate an entire tray of those.”
“I don’t remember,” Cassie said. But she did. The Sutherland c
ook had been cross and Alex had intervened, claiming he’d been the one who ate them all. She’d never tasted anything as good as those squares. Gramps didn’t make desserts and it had been Alex who introduced her to a variety of culinary delights.
“I’ll just take out a sandwich and square,” she added, eyeing the lunch bag. “And eat in the barn.”
“No, sorry,” Alex said. “I’m paying for a full day of lessons. So we need a working lunch.”
“Actually Grace’s lessons stop at one o’clock.”
“But it’s only noon.”
Cassie shoved a tendril of hair off her face, unsure if he was joking. He’d never been a clock watcher but it was true she charged an hourly rate. And eating a peanut butter sandwich alone in the barn wasn’t very appealing. “Do you still have the same cook?” she asked, thinking of all the delicious meals she had in the Sutherland kitchen.
“No,” he said, “but we have the same recipes. I’ve learned old favorites are always the best.” His eyes locked on her mouth, his expression softening. It was clear now he’d been teasing about quitting early. And also that he stood distractingly close.
He’d rolled up his shirt sleeves yesterday, exposing his muscled forearms, but this T-shirt hid even less. And she resented the flutter in her belly, the way her body sparked just being around him.
Behind her, Grace gave a delighted squeal. “A picnic! That will be so much fun. And we can swim too, if Digger doesn’t mind.”
Cassie wet her lips. Digger wouldn’t mind but she definitely would. Because she remembered what Alex looked like without a shirt, and it was obvious he was even more ripped now. The Sutherland state-of-the art gym was clearly getting a lot of use.
“We can all swim,” Alex said. “This is the hottest day so far this summer.”
“I’ll eat lunch with you,” Cassie said, dragging her eyes off his chest and trying to focus on his face. “But I don’t have time to swim. I’m not even that hot.”
Alex’s gaze dropped, skimming over her neck, her chest, and lower. She could feel the telltale itch of perspiration, the way her shirt clung to her navel, and his slow perusal made her even hotter. And now her nipples hardened against her bra in the most annoying way. She wanted to wipe the sweat off her forehead and at the same time cross her arms, but it was more important to remain unfazed. To appear cool and unaffected, just like him. Even though she was burning up.
MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance Page 10