“Move to Carrolton or Richardson? You must be joking? I’ll never leave Highland Park. Only the best people live here. I need to be among my kind.”
“They’re not your kind anymore, Mother.”
“Bite your tongue, Raynie. They’ll always be my kind, and yours, too.”
Trent gave Rayne a lighthearted grin as he steered the car around the side of the wide home.
“Just drop me at the door,” Estelle directed.
“Mother, I should stay with you.”
Estelle waved a thin hand at her daughter. “Nonsense. I’m fine, and you two need time alone.”
Rayne sighed with frustration, only making Trent’s humorous grin even bigger.
Pulling under a high portico with a stucco and stone archway, Trent glimpsed the smaller replica of the wide front doors at the side entrance.
“How big is this house, Estelle?”
“The lot is two and a half acres, and the house is almost seven thousand square feet,” Rayne volunteered.
“That’s a lot of house for one person,” he remarked.
“Well, you never know when you might have guests,” Estelle added.
“Your days of having guests are long gone, Mother.” Rayne opened the rear car door for Estelle.
“One always needs extra rooms,” Estelle argued.
Trent came around from the driver’s side of the car. “I’ve got only about four thousand square feet and I’ve got a maid that comes twice a week. How do you manage?”
Estelle retrieved her keys from her leather purse. “Oh, I manage.” She marched up a small flight of cement steps to the darkly stained doors. “Let Raynie give you a quick tour before you head out.”
“You shouldn’t be alone, Mother.”
“I don’t want you to stay. I’m fine.” Estelle then pushed the double doors open and walked proudly into her home, like a queen entering her castle.
The accentuated sway of the hem of her aquamarine dress made Rayne swear the woman was putting a little more swing in her hips, probably for Trent’s benefit.
“I’m sorry,” Rayne softly said as she climbed the back steps with Trent. “Mother is sort of like a sixty-year-old version of Scarlett O’Hara. She hasn’t quite come to terms with the fact that she isn’t the belle of the ball anymore.”
“How has she held on to this place? The taxes alone must be a small fortune,” he whispered as they stepped into an elegant marble entranceway with oak hardwood floors and high ceilings.
Rayne waited as her mother disappeared around the corner of the entranceway, and then turned and shut the heavy double doors behind Trent.
“The taxes haven’t been paid for two years, and the city of Dallas has been threatening to auction the house off unless she comes up with the taxes in the next six months.”
She walked with Trent to the end of the entryway. A long hallway with parquet wood floors had several high doors running along either side, and was painted in alternating panels of taupe and white.
“Mother has struggled for years to hold on to this house.” Rayne motioned to a bright room at the end of the hallway to her right. “There used to be a gardener, and a maid to help keep it clean, but she let Mattie go a few years back.”
As they walked down the hallway, Trent inspected the impressions in the walls where long pictures had once hung. The nails were still left in some places, and dotted along the detailed wood floor, small dents could be seen where furniture once sat.
They entered a rectangular living room with a vaulted wood ceiling and a wall of glass doors that opened on to a slate-covered patio. There was not a stick of furniture anywhere, and more dents marred the hardwood floor. Along the walls were additional impressions where paintings had once hung.
Trent gestured about the room. “It seems rather…empty.”
“It’s how she has held on to her home. My grandfather was an avid antiques collector. This house was crammed with them when we moved here from New Orleans. Now, there’s barely any furniture left. She sold off his collection of paintings shortly after he and my grandmother died in a car accident.”
He went to one of the windows that looked out to a matted garden of weeds and shrubbery. “How long ago was that?”
“A little over eight years. It happened after I was married to Foster.”
Trent turned to her in astonishment. “And she has been keeping this place going since then?”
Rayne walked over to his side and stared out to a tall oak just beyond the gardens. “Foster helped some when we were first married. He sent over his gardener to keep up the grounds and paid the bills, but after a few years of putting up with her drinking escapades, he stopped helping.” Rayne nodded to the living room entrance. “I’ll just check on her, and then we can go.”
“I’ll be right here,” he told her.
Rayne took in the curve of his square jaw, the rise of his Adam’s apple, the way his blue T-shirt hugged his wide shoulders, and the fit of his jeans around his round butt. Like a mirage to a thirsty traveler across a wind-torn desert, he seemed too good to be true. But as she relished the memory of their morning together in her bed, the fantasy of Trent Newbury began to blur into a newly unwanted reality; this was a man she could really fall for.
Hastily leaving Trent, she proceeded down the hallway to one of the tall doors at the far end. When Rayne stretched for the dull brass handle, she squared her shoulders, preparing to take on the cantankerous beast inside.
The door opened with a slight creak, and the only light from inside was from a lamp set on a simple wooden desk to the side. In the center of the crimson-painted room, elevated on a platform, was an unmade king-sized walnut bed. The only other furniture in the large circular room was a thick oak dresser with dulled brass handles, set against the far wall. The creamy carpet was worn and frayed in sections, and the white baseboards contained a thick layer of dust.
“I told you to go,” Estelle fussed as she sat on the corner of the bed, undoing the buttons on one sleeve of her dress.
“I think I should stay, at least for a little while.” Rayne closed the bedroom door.
“And pass up the opportunity to spend time with that fine man? You’re not that dumb, Raynie.” She kicked off her black heels.
“This isn’t about Trent. It’s about you.”
“Of course it’s about Trent. It’s always about men. Everything we do as women is to impress them.” Estelle stood from the bed. “I can’t believe you brought him to the hospital in the first place. That’s a terrible impression to give a man. You need to be charming and attractive, not bringing him to see your injured mother and ex-husband.”
“Trent insisted on going to the hospital. He said he wanted to be there for me.” Rayne stepped closer and when her eyes lit on the assortment of liquor bottles on the floor by the head of the bed, she shook with rage.
“Be there for you?” Estelle’s raspy laughter bristled against Rayne’s skin. “Honestly, Raynie, do you think that man cares about your problems? You need to use your head to nab this one. Don’t smother him like you did Foster. Let him have his freedom and don’t monopolize his time. And if he has an indiscretion like Foster did, then look the other way for Christ’s sake.”
“Mother, let’s not discuss that again. Foster cheated on me, and I could not stay with him after that.”
“So what? All men cheat. It’s part of their nature.” She went to a pair of white pocket doors across from the foot of her bed.
“Dad never cheated on you. You didn’t know how it felt.”
Estelle pried apart the pocket doors to reveal a huge walk-in closet bursting with clothes. “I knew. Your grandfather ran around with every woman he could get his hands on.” She flipped on a switch on the wall and the closet’s interior glowed with a soft light. “But Momma always had to put up with it to keep a roof over her head. You could have learned to live with it just like she did.” Estelle tugged at the sleeves of her dress, inching it off her shoulders. �
�Then you would still be married to a wealthy man.” She advanced into the closet.
“I’m not going to stay with a man who runs around on me. I’d rather make my way without a man than live a lie.”
Estelle emerged from the closet wearing only a full beige slip. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re my daughter. Who in their right mind would want to give up security and comfort to work like a dog?” She yanked the bandage off her forehead.
“Working is not all bad, Mother. I like my job, and I feel productive earning a paycheck.”
Estelle tossed the bandage to the floor and strolled toward the head of the bed. “You sound just like your father. You remind me of him more and more every day.” She then picked up a half-empty bottle of scotch from the floor.
The acrid taste of disgust burned in Rayne’s mouth. “I’ll go then. I have a lesson to teach at the stables.” Rayne headed to the bedroom door, refusing to watch as Estelle put the bottle to her lips.
“You would do better to spend your time catering to that man out there. Pamper him and make him feel like he’s in charge. Remember that. It makes them feel like a man when they can dominate you. I hope you at least satisfy him in bed.”
Rayne’s humiliation rose to her cheeks as she placed her hand on the doorknob. “Good-bye, Mother.”
“I’ll call you later to see how it’s going with Trent. Don’t blow this, Raynie. He’s just what you need.”
Rayne pivoted around. “How would you know what I need?”
Estelle gripped the bottle in her hand. “I’m your mother, darling. Of course I know what you need. Now go on, and make sure you keep that man happy.”
Refraining from slamming the door to her mother’s bedroom, Rayne stepped into the hall and stormed off toward the living room.
“I take it you’re not staying,” Trent quipped when she burst through the living room entrance.
“No.” Rayne took a second to compose herself. “Sometimes she can be so….” She threw her hands in the air, grimacing.
“I know the feeling.”
Rayne’s hazel eyes soaked in his bemused smirk. “You do?”
“Yeah. I’m beginning to get that same feeling all the time with you.” He took her hand. “Come on, we’ll have to haul ass back to the stables to make your lesson.”
Allowing him to lead her to the side entrance, Rayne felt the angst created by the conversation with her mother slowly evaporate. It was as if Trent’s presence replaced her strife with a strange sense of contentment. Foster had never elicited such a response, and the last time she could remember feeling that way with anyone was with her father. She spied their intertwined hands and wondered what George Masterson would have made of Trent. Rayne could picture her father’s long face and warm hazel eyes glowing with happiness for his daughter. She did not know why, but somehow she just knew her father would have approved. And that certainty made Rayne smile.
***
After her morning lessons and a quick cup of coffee with Rebecca to discuss changes to the lesson schedule, Rayne was in her tack room, pulling on her boots for an afternoon ride on Bob, when Trent came barreling in the door. Slightly disheveled with windblown hair, dust-streaked jeans, and a damp brow, Rayne’s lust for the man quickly shoved away all reason.
“I think you’ve been avoiding me.” He shut the tack room door with a thud.
She stood from a bale of hay. “I have not. I’ve been busy.” She pointed to the door. “Leave that open.”
He eyed the door. “Why?”
“Because last time you closed it, Rebecca and a few others heard us and…well, we don’t need to give people more to gossip about around here.”
“To hell with what other people think. Let them gossip.” He came toward her and scooped her into his arms. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
Rayne lightly stroked her hands along the front of his sweaty blue T-shirt. “I haven’t been avoiding you. I thought you might want to….”
“What?”
“I don’t know….” Her finger played with the collar on his T-shirt. “Spend some time apart? Maybe you’ve had enough of me for one day.”
He lifted her off the ground and kissed her neck. “Fat chance, baby.”
She gripped his shoulders as her insides exploded with heat. It took everything Rayne had to push him away. “If you start that, neither one of us might get out of here,” she warned, trying to sound practical and not desperate for him.
He put her back down on the floor. “I would like nothing more than to throw you on that bale of hay right now, but I’m afraid duty calls.” He let her go. “I have to observe Selene’s dressage class.”
“Does Selene know you’re observing her class?” She arched a wary eyebrow at him.
“No. If I told her I was coming, she would just make more excuses.”
“Have fun with that…she hates having an audience. Doesn’t even let the families of her students watch; claims it distracts them.”
“So I’ve heard.” He rested his hand on the saddle rack next to him. “Any word from your mother?”
“If she needs me, she’ll call. But I’m sure she’s fine. Mother is like a cat with nine lives; she always lands on her feet.”
His long fingers drew a few circles on a saddle in front of him as his eyes pondered Rayne. “I can’t believe you’ve been dealing with her on your own all these years. A lot of daughters would have written her off.”
“I’ve tried, believe me, but every time I swore I was done with her, I would hear my father’s voice in my head. He’s the reason I haven’t deserted her completely.”
“That’s your conscience, Rayne, not your father. You’re just not one of those people who can disregard someone because they don’t fit into your life. You have a good heart.”
“I’m not good, Trent. I’ve done a lot of things I regret.”
“So have I, but that doesn’t make you bad, it just makes you human. Besides, you have all those wonderful assets I was telling you about this morning before we were interrupted.” His eyes wandered over her figure. “I guess I’ll have to spend tonight reminding you of every single one of them; but until then….” He sighed and checked his stainless watch. “I have to head back to the schooling ring.” Trent kissed her forehead. “When I’m done with Selene’s class, I can meet you in the jumping ring to school Bob. We need to get started if we are going to get you ready for October.”
“About that….” Rayne rubbed her hands together, avoiding his eyes.
“What is it? Are you afraid of showing him?”
“Afraid? Hell no. He’s a great horse. It’s just been a long time since I’ve competed. I’m not so sure I’m up to it.”
“I know that’s not true.” He stared into her eyes, analyzing her. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on with you?”
Rayne itched to bolt from the tack room. “Forget it. I’ll show in October,” she affirmed, pulling away from him.
He held her arm. “Oh, no you don’t. What is it?”
“Nothing.” She jerked away. “I told you I will ride in the show, so there’s—”
He threw his arms about her. “Talk to me,” he urged against her cheek. “What will it take for you to trust me, Rayne?”
What would it take? She wished she knew the answer.
He kissed her ear. “Come on, what is it?”
Rayne wavered, unsure of what to tell him. Ever since they had left her mother’s home, she had been stewing over Estelle’s warning about smothering Trent. How long could it last if they spent their days together training Bob, and their nights sharing a bed?
Trent suggestively rubbed his hips against her. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”
“Damn you.” She hated her body for wanting him. “All right. I think maybe we shouldn’t spend so much time together. With our personal relationship, and our professional one, it might make things difficult.”
Trent’s bellowing laughter stung her ears.
“Nice try, baby, but you’re not getting rid of me so easily. I’m going to pester you every day until you let me in that stone cold heart of yours. Being around all the time is one way of getting you to lower your defenses.”
She wiggled in his arms. “I don’t have any defenses to lower.”
He held her tighter. “Rayne, please. You’re about as boarded up as an abandoned house.” He ran his hands over the curve of her butt. “Now, you get Bob warmed up and meet me in the back ring in one hour. We have a lot of work to do.” He slapped her hard on the ass.
“Hey!” Rayne shouted.
Trent kissed her mouth. “Tonight I promise I will do a hell of a lot more to you than that.” He let her go. “Now get Bob ready.”
As he opened the tack room door, Rayne added, “Have fun with Selene.”
He smiled back at her. “Oh, I plan on it. I think she is about to get a very rude wake-up call.”
After he had departed, a twinge of worry ate at her. Despite his vast experience with women, Rayne doubted Trent had ever run across the likes of Selene.
“I think you’re the one in for a rude wake-up call, Trent. I just hope you survive it.”
Chapter 14
The sun was sinking below the horizon when Trent’s BMW drove into his wide glass and stone three-car garage. The aroma of the loaded meat and extra cheese pizza they had stopped to get on the way back from Rayne’s house wafted through the car.
“I still don’t understand why Frank couldn’t come with us,” Trent debated, turning off the engine.
“I will not be held responsible for the disaster he would have made of your lovely home.”
Trent scooped up the pizza from the back seat. “Or is he your excuse to leave early and not stay the night with me?”
As if on cue, Rayne’s stomach noisily rumbled. “I’m starving,” she admitted, purposefully avoiding his question as she turned to the car door.
“There you go again. Running from me.”
She opened the door, laughing off his comment. “I’m hardly running. I’m hungry, there’s a difference.”
“Your mother warned me about you. She said you liked to push men away.” He climbed from the car.
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