The Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Alice Ward

  “Yes, sir, I’ll move on now,” I said and climbed back into the Escalade. I smiled and nodded at him as I circled around and pulled back onto the highway.

  I drove maybe twenty-five miles before I came to a small town that had a large city parking lot. I guess some building had to be torn down and they had nothing better to do with it. I pulled in and saw a country restaurant across the street. I stepped into the trailer long enough to make sure Carlos had something to eat and drink and then I grabbed my bag and headed for the restaurant.

  They were having a special, it seemed. The sign, however, was years old so I guess it was more of a permanent special. It read, “Two eggs n’ bacon $2.99” and that sounded fine to me so I ordered it.

  I wandered to the paper rack by the door and bought a Louisville Courier Journal. My heart ached as I realized what I was leaving behind. Louisville was the only place I’d ever called home. I paged through the paper, looking at ads and the marriage announcements and finally came across an ad for Worth’s clinic. This took the bottom out from under me. I slammed the paper shut and with resolve, finished my breakfast and left.

  I drove west for three days, sleeping in the reclining seat of the Escalade and finding places in the country where I could walk Carlos and even ride him a bit in the most rural areas. I could never leave him. He and I had been through so much together. He was like family.

  I only made one phone call and it was from a phone booth in a gas station along the way. I called Todd Green and got his voicemail, which was exactly what I’d hoped for. I left him a message. “Todd, this is Auggie. I’m okay and doing what I need to do. If anyone reports me missing, refer them to Dad. I’m not running away. I’m looking for someone.”

  Once I hit Missouri and crossed the Mississippi River, I knew I was in a different part of the world. Gone were the fields of bluegrass. Gone were the friendly people and the horse farms where I knew I could find refuge if I needed to. I headed for Kansas City. At least I knew there were ranches there… somewhere.

  I found myself eventually in Colorado, in a small town called Creede. It was only just awakening from the winter and preparing for the influx of tourists who came each summer. Names from western lore peppered its past: Bat Masterson, Calamity Jane and the man who shot Jesse James in the back of the head as he hung a portrait. It suited me perfectly. I’d always felt an attachment to the West and remembered watching old black and white westerns on the television in the family room. I always loved anything that had to do with horses, naturally.

  Outside of town, I found a ranch where Carlos could board and not far away was a row of run-down apartments that seemed to suit my mood. They were called Creede Row and although they rented by the week, I paid in advance for a month. I’d temporarily had my fill of designer furniture and glitter for the sake of public opinion. On the kick of budget living, I found a Dollar General Store and bought myself some bedding, which I rolled up in on the motel bed at night. I’d also bought some sneakers and jeans with cotton, button-up blouses. That was when I found the western store and added to my wardrobe, including a suede hat.

  I was lucky enough to find a job with a tourist business that gave stagecoach rides through the summer season. I knew how to handle horses, of course, and I suppose my derrière was an additional asset from the driver’s seat — I wasn’t deluded. It was fun, though, and I could dress in the clothes I loved best and in the evenings, I visited Carlos and took care of him. The season was only just beginning and there were long periods when no one wanted to ride. During these times, I drove the coach around town and a bit toward the highway where people speeding by might be lured to stop and give it a try.

  It was a late morning and I was returning to town. The coach was empty and the skies were darkening in the distance as they did most afternoons on this side of the mountain. I came upon a Lexus that appeared to be broken down alongside the road. There were a pair of long, male legs extending from beneath it, clad in a pair of what looked to be expensive trousers. As I approached, he was struggling to push out from beneath the car and as he stood, I could tell he was quite tall. I slowed and nodded as he began to flail his arms to catch my attention.

  “Trouble?” I asked as I reined in the team and stopped.

  “I’ll say. I was hoping for a car to pass by but there isn’t much traffic on this road. I never expected a stagecoach, though,” he said, smiling. There was a rumble from the approaching storm.

  “I don’t have my cell with me, but I’ll be glad to give you a lift into town or send someone out when I get in. Lightning scissored the sky and the thunder was immediate, causing us both to start a bit and the horses jumped as well. They wanted to get back to their stables and could not care less whether there was a disabled traveler at stake.

  “You know, if you don’t mind, I’ll ride with you but I’d like to ride up front on the seat with you. Is that permitted? I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to handle a team.”

  I thought about it, chewing my bottom lip. “Well, it’s not in the rulebook but if you promise to jump down and climb into the coach just as we hit town, I won’t tell. You like horses?” I asked, scooting a bit so he could heft himself up to the seat.

  “Oh, yes, although Arabs are more my breed,” he said. He stuck out his hand. “Ben Trax is my name… and you are?”

  “You can call me Auggie,” I said, shaking his hand. “We’d better get started.” As another streak of lightning brightened the sky, I slapped the reins.

  “Mind if I take the reins a minute?” he asked.

  “Okay, but the horses are antsy from that storm coming in and it’s against the rules. You wouldn’t want me to get fired, would you?” I asked, grinning.

  “Just once and for a moment,” he pleaded and I handed them over.

  It was as if a magic spell descended over the team. Their ears relaxed and they fell into step as if choreographed. A lightning bolt struck a tree about a half mile ahead and the thunder was loud enough to break a nearby eardrum, but the horses hardly flinched.

  “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” I asked him, amazed. “You’re a natural.”

  “Never. I do seem to have a way with horses, though. Have all my life. Wish I were as good with cars… and with women,” he added and turned to wink at me.

  How long had it been since I’d seen a man smile at me? I felt a pang for Worth, but I knew he was a figure who belonged in my past.

  We weren’t far from town so I nudged him and took back the reins. “I’m going to stop now and you need to scramble into the back. Where can I drop you?” I asked him.

  “A service station would be a good start,” he said and winked again.

  I nodded and reined in the horses long enough for him to jump down and get into the coach. I took a side street where I’d seen a service station and pulled up.

  Ben climbed out and held up a twenty. “No, no,” I said. “You didn’t get the whole tour. Go on in there and they’ll take care of you, I’m sure. Nice to meet you, Ben.” I grinned and snapped the reins, leaving him standing there with his hand still outstretched.

  I returned the coach and horses and was brushing them down when I heard steps behind me. Thinking it was my employer, I didn’t turn but said, “Hand me the hoof pick, would you? I think we picked up a stone.”

  A tanned hand with an expensive wristwatch appeared at my side, a hoof pick extended. I turned and there stood Ben Trax. I was surprised, to say the least. “Hello…?” I ventured.

  “I’m sorry, I know this is kind of weird, but you’re the only person I’ve met in town, except for Shorty at the repair shop. He tells me he can’t tow it in until the storm passes and it will be tomorrow until he can take a look at it. I’m a stranger here, as you know, and wondered if I could trade you a dinner for a guided tour of the town. I have no idea where to stay or eat, for that matter.”

  I stood upright and considered him. There was no doubt he seemed friendly and honest, but I was alon
e and there was no one looking out for me. It paid to be cautious. He sensed my hesitation. “Please?” he repeated.

  I nodded and turned back to my work. “Take a seat where you can find one and I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” I said, but instead, he came up and got between the horse and me, put his shoulder against the animal and lifted its leg so as to hold the hoof.

  “Hand me the pick,” he said. I did so without thinking and he quickly removed the stone, patted the horse’s leg and then its flank. “There, that should do it,” he said, handing me the lead.

  “You seemed to know what you were doing,” I commented.

  “I’m a vet,” he said succinctly.

  Now, having grown up in the equine industry in Kentucky, we were more impressed by large animal vets than human neurosurgeons. The better vets were impossible to get to and we considered them gods.

  I finished up with the horses and showed Ben out to my car. I’d lost all anxiety about him strangely and felt a kinship.

  He got in. “Nice car, Kentucky plates,” he observed. “Want to talk about it?”

  I looked at him sideways, a lock of his sandy-colored hair had fallen down into his eyes, giving him a very boyish look in a man’s lanky body.

  “About what?” I asked as innocently as I could.

  “Come on, Auggie. It’s all over you. Your name is short for Augusta. Hardly a name you find at Wal-Mart. Your hair has never been colored or permed, you walk with the kind of assurance that says you’re well-bred, wear little makeup so you’re not trying to impress anyone and you know your way around horses, which is not a poor man’s hobby. We won’t even talk about the fact that you’re working for a tourist trap and driving an eighty-thousand-dollar car. How’s that for starters?” he finished. “Judging by that new hitch on the back, I guess you’ve got a horse and trailer parked around here somewhere, too.”

  My mouth was hanging open. “How did you know all that?”

  He laughed, a sound that was deep and musical. “Told you, I have a way with creatures. They sense who they can trust and you have to read them well to earn that trust,” he explained. “Have I read you well?”

  I sat there, the car still in park. “Astoundingly well,” I said.

  “I’m going to hazard a guess and say Louisville or Lexington, although you probably went to UK.”

  “God, are you some kind of a psychic?”

  He just laughed and pointed forward. “C’mon, let me buy you dinner. On second thought, I’ll bet you’ve got a trust fund somewhere. I’ll let you buy me dinner,” he joked and I instantly liked him.

  I pulled up to a diner I’d found and we went inside, choosing a corner booth away from the noisy door. He waited until I’d been seated and then slid in. “So, what is his name?”

  I gaped at him and he reached over and tapped the white line on my left hand. “Looks like the width of an engagement ring and not a wedding set.”

  “You should be Sherlock Holmes,” I commented and stirred the straw around in my soft drink.

  “So, I’ve been told,” he said wryly.

  “Why, don’t people appreciate your talents?” I queried.

  “People like to believe in the art of their own illusion. They want others to believe what they want them to believe.”

  Worth’s words came rushing back to me. “Huh, yes, I know someone else who has that opinion.”

  “Aha! Now we’re getting somewhere. He’s a philosopher? A psychology professor?”

  “You’re getting very close… a psychologist,” I illuminated the guess.

  “Hmmm… well, he should be smart enough and well-trained enough to be able to hang on to a prize like you. What in the hell happened?”

  Our dinners came then and there was a lull as we both put ketchup on our fries.

  “It’s a long and emotionally-woven story and mostly has to do with other people. I’m here to forget all about that, anyway.” I was trying to tell him I didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Are you? Well, considering you’re fairly young and have your full brain capacity, how long do you think it will take before you’ve forgotten all about him? A hundred years, maybe?”

  I frowned. “Are you trying to be contrary or do you come by it naturally?”

  “Oh, it’s natural. I suppose I’m an amateur therapist, but I know people and animals have a great deal in common. Stubbornness for one thing.” He was unapologetic and that felt vaguely familiar.

  “So, where are you headed?” I tried to change the topic.

  “Actually, I don’t know. I’m in a situation that could be similar to yours. I sold my practice and decided to change my life at the same time. So, I threw a few things into the car and took off. Doing a little touristy stuff along the way and trying to clear my mind.” He was curiously cutting his fries into pieces before eating them. I watched, noting each piece was identical in length.

  “Oh, I see. Do you have family?” This seemed a harmless topic, but apparently it wasn’t.

  “Not anymore.”

  “No? What happened?” I slowly put a fry up to my mouth, emphasizing that I was using my fingers.

  “I had a wife and twin sons, five years old. They were killed by a drunk driver.”

  I dropped my fry and wanted to slap myself. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry…”

  “Thank you.” He didn’t say any more than that. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to ask another question or whether he was clamming up.

  I figured the easiest thing was simply to ask him. “Would you like to talk about it?”

  That lock of hair had fallen over his eyes again but it could not obscure the tear that waited. “I’m fairly talked, journaled, meditated and analyzed out, to tell you the truth. I thought I might try a change of life. Maybe a new life entirely?”

  What could I say? That I understood? I didn’t. There was no way possible I could understand what must be going on in that man’s brain and heart. He must have stood on the precipice of insanity and fought to keep from jumping.

  “Ben, I don’t know what to say.” I shifted uncomfortably in the seat. I was still wearing my western wear from work. I longed for a hot bath in a tub that I could trust was really clean.

  “‘s okay, people always feel that way. Sometimes I want to lop off my own head and shop for a new one.” He shoved his plate away, evidently his appetite was gone. “I’m going to ask you something and I hope you understand where it comes from.”

  “Sure,” I said, anxious to make up for the awkwardness I’d created when I asked the question about family.

  “Would you sleep with me?”

  I choked on my drink. “Wha-at?”

  “I just need to sleep with someone, to feel a woman’s body next to mine. It’s been so long and I haven’t met anyone who I’d even consider doing that with…until you, that is.”

  I held up a hand. “Ben, if I’ve given you the wrong impression, I’m sorry. No, I will not sleep with you. That’s for you to do with someone who you love and who loves you. That’s no solution for what’s going on in your head.” I grabbed my purse and fished out a twenty-dollar bill, laying it on the table. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ben, but you’ve got me all wrong. I wish you the best. Bye,” I said and hurried out of the diner. Hurry probably wouldn’t be a strong enough word. I flew out the door and into the street, drawing in huge gasps of clean air. Was this the world I wanted to find? What the hell was I doing here?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Worth

  Auggie was gone. It had been more than a month now, but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head and I felt like I was going to go mad. Damn the woman! Couldn’t she see I was dealing with something bigger than both of us? Was her answer always to run when the going got tough?

  I had the corner table at Joe’s. In fact, I’d had it since noon. He was coming and it was going to be a showdown. Once and for all.

  I recognized his silhouette in the doorway, the sun and the noise from the overhead bridge
framing him. It was a shape that delivered nightmares. It had come at bedtimes, a result of a broken window from a thrown baseball or a dandelion that had escaped my weeding. The nightmare carried a belt that flexed with vengeance.

  There were others who looked up, who knew and who turned away to avoid the nod. He was not well liked. He was only permitted because I was here.

  He advanced upon me, but this time, it was I who wore the look of disapproval. He stopped at my table and I simply looked at him, refusing to stand in acknowledgment. He finally slid the opposing chair back and fell into it. I noticed that he was moving more stiffly than he used to. I didn’t give a damn.

  I didn’t waste the time with preambles or small talk. “Why have you sabotaged my business?”

  “What makes you think it is me?” He was gruff, unforgiving, even in guilt.

  “You just gave yourself away. You used the present tense.” I sipped my bourbon cautiously, keeping my head clear.

  “Are you afraid of a little challenge, boy?” he asked, chuckling and taking a draw off his cigar.

  The bartender called over to him, “No smoking in here, sir.”

  He looked around at the filled ashtrays and puffs of smoke from around the room and swore as he smashed it into the tabletop. “Heard your filly left you.” He went for the juggler.

  “I hardly think you’re in a position to discuss relationships, now, are you?”

  He didn’t say a word.

  “I want it stopped. Now. What will it take?”

  “Give her up.” I knew who he meant and I didn’t think I could hate anyone more than I did him at that moment.

  “Fuck you.”

  He chuckled, stood, lit another cigar and then shrugged his shoulders. “Up to you, but you’re already fucked, son.” He strolled out, calling hello to each man sitting down the row of stools as though they were intimate friends on the golf course.

  ***