Saratoga Sunrise

by Christine Wenger

  She clamped her hands together in an effort to keep them from shaking. She was so muddled.

  If she was going to call off her engagement with Montague Fordice, she'd darn well better do it soon. She couldn't marry him. Not when she loved another. Not when she loved Jack.

  She'd tell her father tonight.

  Her father!

  He would be furious about Seawind, if he ever found out. She'd have to tell him what happened-that she’d been riding Seawind. He'd be even more furious!

  She looked down at her attire: wet silk knickers, a damp chemise, Jack's shirt, bare limbs and feet. She ran her fingers through her damp hair. It was knotted and must certainly be a sight.

  Oh heavens, she couldn't be seen like this. She would have to make herself presentable when she returned to the stables. No one could know she had been riding Seawind or that she’d been with Jack.

  She watched her colt grazing. His long strong neck bent to munch the thick summer grass. She noticed that he was favoring his right leg. It was swelling even more-just where Jack had pointed.

  But really, being discovered was the least of her problems now. She had to take care of her horse.

  Jack returned with their clothes, and she dressed as fast as she could while still sitting. He helped her to her feet and she swayed, a little unsteady.

  "I'll carry you. Climb on my back."

  "No. You're very kind, but it's much too far. You just take care of Seawind. Don't worry about me. Go. Start those cold compresses immediately." Sara looked at him as he gathered up Seawind's reins. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to give you orders."

  He chuckled. "But I work for you."

  "You work for my father."

  "But Seawind's your horse."

  "Someday, I'll have my own horses, but Seawind and Comet and Amberglow, all of them, they are really my father's horses, even though I call them mine."

  They began walking and the pain in her leg was excruciating. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath and thought of Seawind instead, and of Jack, and forgot about her pain. What would she have done without Jack's help?

  "Please go on. I'll be along as soon as I can. I'll sneak in and change out of these clothes. Please, leave me and take care of my horse."

  "I'm not leaving you alone out here."

  "I'll be fine. I know the way. I got here by myself, didn't I?"

  "That you sure did." Jack studied her hard, and she managed to smile through her pain.

  "Please go."

  "As you wish, but just take your time."

  "I'll try," she joked. "Although I'd love to run."

  Jack began to reach for her hand, then stopped and shoved his hand into his pocket. He seemed about to say something, then changed his mind. Nodding in Sara's direction, he walked away.

  Sara watched Jack and Seawind disappear over the hill. Ignoring the pain, she kept walking. The quicker she got back to the stable, the quicker she could help Jack put cold compresses on Seawind's legs.

  She thought of how he ripped his red underwear and put the compress on her leg.

  She thought of their waltz together and how he came to her rescue when Montague Fordice was hurting her.

  She shivered in the summer sun as she remembered Jack's kisses at the spring and how she bold she'd been. She should have been embarrassed, but she wasn't. She only felt embarrassed when Jack saw the hideous scars on her leg, and her missing toe.

  But he had kissed her scars, and he wasn’t repulsed.

  Did he care for her as she cared for him? Did her scars truly not bother him?

  Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she felt as if she were walking on air. All too soon, she remembered hearing Clara and Jack fighting in the courtyard of the hotel, and a cloud covered her thoughts. She'd have to remember to ask Clara about it. But Clara had lied to her. She needed to know the truth. She had to ask Jack.

  And even though his kisses were passionate and melted her bones, wasn't Jack just taking what Sara wantonly offered to him in the spring?

  But even if Jack was attracted to her, it didn't matter, did it?

  Her father has forbidden him to associate with her. Aside from the fact that he was a horse handler, Bond Peterson had Montague Fordice picked out for her-someone from her own class, he said. Someone with wealth, he’d said.

  She’d never marry Fordice.

  She stopped to catch her breath and rest for a while, then she hurried as fast as she could to take care of her horse.

  # # #

  "You'll be as good as new, Seawind." Jack washed the horse's legs, smoothed liniment on the scratches, then dipped a wet strip of cotton cloth into the bucket of well water and wrapped it around Seawind's front, right metacarpal. He noticed a little swelling on the left, so he decided to wrap them all.

  He fed and watered the horse, then walked to the back of the stables with the hope of seeing Sara.

  He didn't see her yet, and wondered if she was all right.

  Heavens! He shouldn't have left her to fend for herself.

  She was such a brave woman. And she tried so hard to keep up, but Jack knew that every step she took was painful to her, especially when her leg was tired. If he could absorb her pain, he would in a heartbeat.

  He remembered how embarrassed she became when he kissed her leg, her scars. To him, they were a symbol of her strength, her ability to overcome her misfortune.

  But did she actually overcome her misfortune, it or was she still coming to terms with it?

  The answer was probably the latter, Jack decided.

  Where on earth was she?

  Then he saw her, slowly walking toward the stable area. She had to be exhausted.

  Walking was a good exercise for her, but he couldn't help but wonder again if riding a bicycle would use other muscles that would strengthen her leg further. And maybe he could build up her shoe somehow, the way he was taught at Cornell to correct problems with a horse's gait. Maybe he could help Sara walk on a more level basis so she wouldn't limp as much. Whatever he could do to help her, he would.

  But why?

  Because he admired her, and maybe he was even starting to fall in love with her.

  But he couldn't love her. He had business to take care of, and she might end up getting hurt. He didn't want that to happen.

  But he was beginning to feel that Sara cared for him, too.

  And Sara wasn't the reckless type, and she certainly wasn't wanton. She was an innocent and couldn't have known where their impropriety would lead. However, he did, and he should have known better.

  He hung up a horse blanket on the front of the stable and one on the side to make it easier for Sara to sneak in. Then he went to sponge more cold water onto Seawind’s legs.

  Jack readied himself for a long night tending to Seawind and trying to keep his distance from Sara Peterson.

  After all, hadn’t Bond Peterson ordered him to stay away from her?

  # # #

  Montague Fordice rubbed his bleary eyes with his palms. "Richard, you have to give me a chance to win back some of my money."

  "I have, Monty, but you've been getting further in debt. I think it's best that from now on that you play with cash, or find another place to play."

  Monty looked around the dark paneled office of Richard Canfield, the owner of Canfield's Casino. A heavy metal safe took up much of the space of one wall. He walked over to the window and looked out at the gardens.

  The elm-shaded lawn was perfectly manicured. Colorful

  flowerbeds were arranged at periodic intervals and every now and then a marble statue stood guard over them. He supposed it was nice enough, if one cared about that sort of thing. If he owned the Casino, he would simply expand and add hundreds of more gaming tables and dining tables and to hell with the flowers and the other useless frivolity.

  He tried not to let the desperation he felt show in his voice. "I'll pay you back when Bravo Joe wins the Travers."

  "I'm counting on it, but until then, no mor
e credit," said Canfield. He handed him an ornate glass of a bright red liquid. "Cheers."

  Monty drained the glass in one gulp and let it fall from his hand high in the air onto a marble table-top. It shattered into thousands of pieces.

  Richard Canfield didn't flinch. "Get out of my casino Fordice. After the Travers, I'll expect you'll return with the money you owe me, as a gentleman would."

  Montague took his time leaving the office, only once looking back at Canfield to tip his hat in a mocking fashion.

  On the street, he lit his last cigar. He was glad that no one was in sight at this hour of the morning for he didn't want to muster politeness. It took too much energy to maintain a cheerful facade.

  If Bravo Joe won the Travers, that would mean about a two thousand dollar purse. He could double or triple that with his bets.

  If the horse lost, he would be ruined and would have no choice but to marry Sara Peterson. He would have to take the job that Bond offered him, too. How absolutely hideous! Everyone knows that Montague Fordice did not work. He was a gentleman of leisure.

  He turned down the narrow, shabby street where Lulu resided. Keeping her as his mistress depended on Bravo Joe, too, for the money left to him by his father was just about gone. The family mansion in Albany was also heavily mortgaged.

  It was a pity that his whole life depended on a horse-a horse that he’d won in a poker game-the last good pot he won. How ironic!

  Seawind was favored to win the Travers, Irish John Cavanaugh told him that. The top bookies, Boy Plunger and Fashion Plate included, agreed. Bravo Joe and Henry of Navarre were favored to place or show, depending on whom was doing the talking.

  It was imperative that Bravo Joe win the Travers, and Monty intended to do whatever possible to insure that he did.

  # # #

  "I came to visit Sara, Aunt Trixie."

  "Well, Clara, isn't that interesting, as Sara is suppose to be visiting you right now."

  Clara’s eyes grew wide. "Oh. I-I-"

  Aunt Trixie fussed with the lace at her neck. It seemed like it was choking her, or was it the nervous worry about Sara?

  "Sara's lying is becoming quite tiresome. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to search for her again."

  "I'll go with you."

  "That would be nice. Would you notify Johnson to ready the carriage, Clara?"

  Clara nodded and hurried off.

  "What did I hear you say, Bea? Sara's missing? And she's been lying? What on earth is going on?"

  Bond held a Turkish towel in his hand, and he was bare from the waist up. Bea's heart did a leap in her chest when she saw him. She tried to divert her gaze, but with little success. He was delightful to look at.

  "Excuse me for not dressing. I didn't mean to offend you."

  "You're not offending me in the least, Bond." He was quite pleasing to the eyes, a perfectly formed man.

  "I'm just concerned about my daughter. Please tell me what's wrong."

  "I don't know yet. Sara told me she was going to visit Clara, yet Clara just arrived to visit Sara." Bea wrung her hands. She hated to worry Bond and hated to betray Sara, but Sara had left her no choice. "And it's not the first time, Bond. It's happened before."

  "Where was she before?"

  She didn't want to answer.

  "Bea? I insist you tell me. I'm her father. I don't understand why I am not privy to things that concern my Sara."

  "Because Bond, nothing serious is afoot."

  "Then tell me where she was before."

  Bea took a deep breath. "She fell into a spring in the country."

  "And what was she doing there?"

  "I believe she was having a picnic with Jack Summers."

  "What?" Bond's voice boomed throughout the cottage.

  "Shhhh! Everyone will hear you." Bea closed the front door.

  "What was she doing with my groom? I forbid him to see her."

  "This was a prior event. Apparently, she lost her balance, fell in and got wet. I happened upon her with Clara, and Clara loaned her some dry clothes."

  "This is a scandal, I say. A scandal!"

  "Pshaw! It wasn't a scandal, it was an accident."

  "She was unchaperoned?"

  "Well...yes."

  "Beatrix, how could you let this happen?"

  "Sara has a mind of her own, Bond. You know that. Besides, I happen to like Jack Summers more than Montague Fordice."

  "Montague Fordice would never compromise her like that."

  "Montague Fordice doesn't pay any attention to her."

  "And Jack Summers pays her too much attention!"

  Bea put a hand on his arm to calm him. His skin felt warm and a little damp from his wash. He smelled of sandalwood soap and vetiver. She looked into his dark eyes, wondering for the millionth time why he didn't love her. She had always loved him, even before her sister Rose even knew him.

  "Bond, why don't you finish getting dressed? I have already sent for the carriage. I think we should go down to the stables. We'll most likely find Sara there."

  His hands clenched into tight fists. "With Jack Summers?"

  "Yes, with Jack Summers."

  "I'm going to fire that man."

  "You'll do no such thing until we find out what has transpired. Give your daughter a chance to explain and do afford Jack Summers the same courtesy. Promise me that you'll do that this time."

  He seemed to think about her words for a long moment, then kissed her on the forehead. "I promise. As usual, you're right, Bea. What would I do without you?"

  It would have been so terribly easy to tilt her head so that his kiss fell upon her lips.

  Instead, with tears stinging her eyes, she walked out onto the porch to await Johnson.

  CHAPTER 10

  Jack was a joy to watch. From her position on a bale of hay in the tack area of Seawind's large stall, Sara couldn't take her eyes off the fine groom.

  She smoothed down her dress. No one would ever know about her swim in the spring. "Where did you learn how to care for horses?"

  He hesitated, as if he didn't want to answer her. Finally, he said, "Cornell University. I was studying to be a veterinarian."

  "How perfect!" she said, before realizing that he said "was". "You're not studying now? You're not going to finish school?"

  "I have to take care of some family business first before I finish my studies."

  "But you will finish?"

  "Perhaps."

  A veterinarian. Yes, he was perfect. He'd be a wonderful help to her at her horse farm. She was giddy with excitement, and nervously tried to find the right words to ask him to join her in her dream.

  "Jack, I have a business proposition for you," she said. "And I implore you to accept."

  He stopped what he was doing and stood up. "What's your proposition?"

  "Please hear me out, and don't laugh."

  He smiled and sat next to her on the hay. "I won't laugh."

  "I'd like us to be partners in a horse farm. I'll supply the capital and manage things and you take care of the horses."

  Jack didn't say a word, only raised an eyebrow.

  "No one would take a woman seriously in business matters, especially not a woman with a handicap. I'm realistic enough to know that and accept it. And you wouldn't work for me. We'd be partners." Her heart began to pound. It was terribly important that he accept. Jack was the one she needed.

  "And you can have your own practice. I'll build you your own separate facilities on the property," Sara said. "And you can teach me what you know, and I'll take over more, leaving you more time for your practice. It will work out wonderfully... you'll see."

  "That's quite generous, but I don't want your father's money, Sara."

  He was starting to withdraw, and she panicked. She had to convince him to help her in this venture. He was the answer to her prayers.

  "It's not my father's money. It's my money."

  "Yours?"

  "Yes. I've been...gambling." She shrugged her s
houlders, when she noticed the shocked look on his face. "Well, I don't really consider it gambling. I consider it as just showing support for my horses. But I've won a lot of money. And I figure that if Seawind wins the Travers, I'd have more than enough to start my horse farm."

  He chuckled. "Sara, you are certainly full of surprises." He rose up, and Sara resisted reaching up and tugging on his arm so that he would sit back down and listen to her.

  "You're laughing at me," she said. "I asked you not to. I'm quite serious, Jack."

  "I believe you are, but does your husband-to-be and your father know that you are making a business proposition to me?" He rubbed his beard and rocked back on his heels. "I wonder what they'd have to say about it all?"

  "I'm not marrying Mr. Fordice. I plan on telling him soon, as soon as I tell my father."

  "You'd best let Chef Morris know also. I overheard him telling another guest that he ordered lobster from Nova Scotia for your engagement party."

  Chef Morris! She had forgotten that he was planning her engagement party.

  "I'll take care of everything and everyone, but I need you for my horse farm, Jack. I want to make it the biggest horse-breeding farm in the entire country. The thoroughbreds that we'd breed would be the best and the fastest." She knew she was carrying on too much. "Please think about my offer. You don't have to give me an answer right now. We can discuss it later."

  "I don't think you've thought my part of this through. Your father wouldn't tolerate me. You shouldn't even be here now."

  "It would be our business and not my father's. He wouldn't have a say in it."

  "The powerful Bond Peterson? Not have a say in it?" he blurted. "Are you joking?"

  Sara's heart beat fast in her chest. What caused this outburst from Jack?

  "Just think about it," she said softly.

  She was tired and disappointed that the conversation wasn't going at all like she had hoped. All she wanted to do was to lay down on the hay and rest her eyes, but she needed to help Jack with Seawind. Sara made an effort to get down off the hay and stifled a yawn.

  "Stay there. I can take care of Seawind. You've had a very tiring day." He spread a new horse blanket on the pile of loose hay in the corner. "Why don't you rest?"