Forever Hunted

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Forever Hunted Page 6

by Kathleen Brooks


  “I’m sorry, Uncle Cy, but I agree with my wife on this one.” Ryan turned and followed after his wife and in-laws.

  “Sweet pea,” her father said softly, stopping Reagan in her tracks.

  “No, Dad. This time you went too far.”

  “Honey,” her mother called out. “Bring Carter for dinner this week. I promise your father will welcome him to our house.” By the death glare her mother gave her father, Reagan believed she’d certainly try. But she also felt that her father would never change.

  “I can’t. I leave in two days for Ocala. Goodbye.” With a heavy heart, Reagan turned her back on her parents and walked quickly to catch up with the Ashtons. How would they ever accept her now? She’d been selfish during her relationship with Carter. She’d only thought about herself. She never thought about Carter or his parents. How was she ever going to face herself for causing such pain to those she loved? And she did love him. She had all along.

  * * *

  As they neared the back of the barn, Reagan could hear Walker and Carter talking. At least there wasn’t the sound of a fight. Reagan fell back, knowing Will and Kenna took precedent over her to reach their son. Reagan felt her heart breaking. She’d put Carter in this position. She’d hurt him and their relationship.

  “Cool your jets. Reagan can handle herself. This is something she needs to do. You did your part, now let her do hers,” Reagan heard Walker say as they came around the corner of the barn. Walker’s back was to them and blocked Carter from her sight.

  “Carter!” Kenna cried as she sent Walker a grateful smile. “Oh, look at your chin. Are you hurt?”

  Reagan’s heart broke further at the sight of the nasty bruise forming on Carter’s square jaw. He wasn’t looking at his mother, though. He was looking right at her. His brown eyes were filled with worry. And that was when Reagan broke down. A sob ripped from her throat as Carter pushed past Walker and wrapped her in his arms.

  “Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I should have told you what I had planned. I knew your father wouldn’t handle it well. I thought in public he would have been a little better—”

  Reagan shook her head. “No, it’s all my fault. I should have listened to you from the start and not hidden this.”

  “Exactly how long has this been going on?” Sienna asked, pointing to the two of them.

  “Sixteen months,” Reagan said shyly.

  “Sixteen months!” Will said with shock. “You’re a better spy than your father.”

  “I shouldn’t have left you to your father’s anger,” Carter whispered to her as he ignored his parents.

  “Don’t worry. Your sister defended your honor.”

  Carter looked to where Sienna stood serenely. “What did you do?”

  “I put him in his place. No one picks on my baby brother,” Sienna said as she rubbed her belly.

  “Your sister punched Cy in the nose,” Ryan said with pride.

  “You did?” Carter asked with surprise.

  “Yes. And I’d do it all over again too. But now I’m tired. And I’m sure you want to talk to Reagan alone. Call if you need anything,” Sienna told them before leaning forward and kissing them each on the cheek.

  “Mrs. Ashton,” Reagan started, but Kenna cut her off.

  “I know what you’re going to say. You only called me Mrs. Ashton when you did something wrong as a child. You’re not a child and you did nothing wrong. This is between your father and us, and you and your father, and we’ll handle it as such. You two go home. We’ll see you after you get back from Florida.”

  Reagan fought the tears, but the tears won.

  “It’ll be okay,” Kenna said as she cupped Reagan’s cheek with her hand. “Every relationship has hard times. It matters how you handle those times. Are you going to run away or are you going to fight? That will tell you more about what kind of relationship you have than anything else. We’ll love you either way.”

  The music from the band picked up as people began to cheer in the distance. The party was back in full swing as Kenna, Will, Ryan, and Sienna left. “Come on. Let’s go home. We don’t have to hide anymore,” Carter said to her as he reached for her hand. With Kenna’s advice still ringing in her ears, Reagan looked back at the party briefly. Her heart ached. No matter what move she made, she’d be alienating a man she loved—her father or her boyfriend.

  “I’m ready,” Reagan said, placing her hand in Carter’s.

  9

  Carter slipped from his bed, careful not to wake Reagan in the early morning darkness. They hadn’t had much opportunity to spend the night together, and this wasn’t the way he liked to spend these rare occasions.

  Reagan had been quiet most of the night. He’d wrapped her in his arms and held her until she’d fallen asleep a couple hours ago. He didn’t know why she was surprised by her father’s reaction. Carter wasn’t. He had been expecting that type of reaction. Only now he realized his big mistake. He had thought coming out as a couple at the wedding would have prevented Cy’s overreaction. Even though Carter had apologized to Walker, he felt horrible for causing a scene at their wedding.

  Carter slipped on his jeans and boots. He pulled a black polo shirt with the Ashton Farm emblem on the left chest over his head and hid his brown hair under a Thoroughbreds Football cap.

  Normally in the mornings Carter would attend workouts for his horses at the practice track on the farm, but that morning he had a meeting with an old family friend. Suzanne Bristol, of the Bristol Oil fortune, had known his father since his days as a quarterback. Her husband had owned part of the football team Carter’s dad had played on until Bristol died five years ago. Suzanne had sold her share of the team and decided to get involved in horse racing.

  Carter snuck quietly down the steps and out the front door of his house on the farm. The large white farmhouse had once been his parents’ home, but he inherited it after they moved into the house owned by his grandparents, William and Betsy, who moved to Florida.

  “Still sneaking around, I see.”

  Carter almost jumped at the threatening voice. He finished silently shutting the door and turned to face Cy. “How long have you been here?”

  “Ten minutes. I figured you’d be heading to the barn soon. We need to talk. Reagan isn’t responding to any of my texts or calls, and I need to know she’s okay.” Cy uncrossed his arms and pushed away from his truck. Cy might have been hovering in his late fifties, but he was still in fighting shape. His arms were thick and defined with muscles. His hair was shaved short and his face chiseled. The combination made him look as dangerous as he really was.

  “Of course she’s not okay. You reacted exactly the way she feared you would. Which, by the way, was the reason she forced me to keep our relationship secret,” Carter answered as he took off toward the office where he was meeting Suzanne. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with Cy’s nonsense.

  “Look, Carter, you’re a good guy. I just don’t think you’re right for Reagan.”

  Carter let out a snort of disbelief as he shook his head. “And who would be?” Carter stopped and turned to face Cy. “What other man would stick around to deal with a father like you—a man I grew up respecting? I thought of you as a friend, even family. What man would love Reagan and treat her better than I would? No one. That’s who.”

  “Are you going to marry her?” Cy asked.

  “I wouldn’t be with her for so long if I wasn’t planning to. But everything is really messy now.”

  Cy’s eyes narrowed and Carter started walking again. “Gemma locked me out of the house,” Cy finally confided.

  “As if a lock would stop you.”

  “Trust me, if a wife locks you out of the house, you do not want to test her by picking the lock. Not that you would know how.”

  Carter rolled his eyes. “That’s your problem with me? I don’t know how to pick a lock?”

  “I don’t have a problem with you exactly. You’re a nice guy,” he said again as if it were a
bad thing.

  Carter chuckled. “And that’s the problem. I’m nice. I’m not a badass like Nash or Walker. I won’t win you the title of having the biggest badass for a son-in-law. Is that it?”

  “Exactly. My daughter needs a man to keep her safe.”

  “Safe from what? What danger do you see lurking around here? Besides, didn’t you teach her take care of herself?” Carter said, refusing to hold back. “I’d give my life to protect her. Just because I can’t kill someone with a spoon doesn’t mean I’m useless.”

  “Why don’t you join me at Desert Sun Farm’s gym this afternoon?” Cy suggested after a brief pause.

  Carter stopped at the barn door with surprise. “You want me to work out with you?”

  Cy shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. I can see what you’re made of and maybe you’ll even learn a thing or two. Let’s call it male bonding.”

  It was more likely an excuse for Cy to get him in the boxing ring and punch him a couple more times. But Carter knew this was a chance he couldn’t pass up. “Fine. I’ll see you at five.” Carter watched as Cy looked like he wanted to say more, but instead nodded and turned back toward his car. No one had ever asked Carter to work out with them before at the state-of-the-art gym Mo had built on his farm. Carter had seen it, having grown up next door to Mo’s farm. His father and Mo were the best of friends. His mother and Dani Ali Rahman had worked together in New York City before coming to Kentucky close to thirty-five years ago and were now best friends-turned-neighbors whose children were as close as brothers could be. Yet Carter had never been invited to work out with the famous soldier, Ahmed. Or even with his protégé, Nash, who was now married to Sophie Davies. No Davies had ever invited him either, even though he’d grown up with them all. No one ever thought to invite him because, it seemed, he was the nice guy.

  The sun began to warm the sky as oranges, reds, and yellows appeared. It was going to be a beautiful summer day. It was August and things were starting to get crazy at the farm. Keeneland’s yearling sales were the next month and that’s where the best of the best were bought and sold. Last year one of the fillies Carter bred sold for two million dollars and this year he had a full sister to that filly, looking to beat that price. It was a crucial time for the farm, leading up to the October Keeneland races that fed into the Breeder’s Cup in November.

  As the sun broke the horizon, Carter opened the barn door and walked past the spotless stalls filled with their prize stallions. In the middle of the barn was a large cupola lined with windows, allowing the sun to illuminate the rich cherry-stained stalls. Carter passed out a sugar cube to each of the stallions and said good morning to the workers busy cleaning their stalls as he made his way to the thick oak doors in the center of the building. He turned to the left and opened the doors that led into the offices.

  The Ashton Farm offices ran the length of the stallion barn and overlooked the main drive into the farm. On the opposite side of the barn were the stallions with direct access to their acres of individual pastures. This early in the morning, Carter was the only one in the office as he flipped on the lights and started the coffee. Suzanne would be there soon, and he needed to review the paperwork she’d sent over on her brood mare, Miss Mambo. Carter investigated her bloodlines and sat back staring at his computer as he took in everything he’d researched.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Carter had been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard Suzanne come in the front door of the lobby. “Mrs. Bristol, it’s good to see you again.” Carter smiled and stood. Suzanne was fifty-nine years old and looked not a day over forty-five. Her blonde hair fell perfectly around her shoulders in soft curls as her pink lips grinned a picture-perfect smile. Her sea-blue eyes sparkled with the barely-there makeup that made her smooth face look flawless.

  She had met her husband at an animal rescue fundraiser thirty plus years ago. They’d fallen in love instantly. She had had no idea the man simply known as Nelson was the heir to the Bristol Oil fortune, valued at over three hundred million dollars. When Suzanne, younger than Nelson by twenty years, was introduced to the backstabbing ways of the uber-wealthy, she’d refused to let it sour her. She’d doubled down on her fundraising for animals, raised her two children in the countryside away from the politics, gatherings, and wealth, and doted on her husband. They were very much in love until the day he died.

  Carter walked around his desk to place a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you so much for seeing me. I didn’t know who else to turn to, then Nellie reminded me you had taken over the farm for your father.”

  Carter showed Suzanne to a leather chair and then leaned against his desk and smiled at her. “How is your daughter?”

  “She’s doing well. She and her husband are expecting a baby in December.” Carter noticed Suzanne was clenching her fingers tightly together.

  “What’s really going on, Mrs. Bristol? You know I’ll help anyway I can,” Carter told her as gently as he could. He wasn’t expecting Suzanne to burst out in tears.

  “Oh, I’m so stupid, Carter. A stupid old woman,” she cried as she got up and began to pace the room.

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  Suzanne pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. “My Nelson always said I was too tender-hearted. He was right. I . . . I . . . ” Suzanne took a deep breath. “I met a man. A younger man.”

  “I don’t see the problem,” Carter told her. Suzanne being a cougar was unexpected, but not surprising.

  “He’s thirty-three, and I thought he cared about me. His name is Mick Connors. We’ve been dating for almost a year, but now I don’t know if I can trust him or if he’s been duped just like I have been.”

  Carter’s brow furrowed. He’d seen that name before. “Is he in horses?”

  Suzanne nodded. “That’s how I met him. At the racetrack in Saratoga. He has a really good horse racing right now called Night Keeper.”

  “Yeah, but I thought I saw his name on the papers for Miss Mambo too, right?”

  “You did.” Suzanne took a deep breath. “I met Mick a year ago. He came on to me at the spring sales, but I didn’t reciprocate. How could someone so young, virile, and handsome be interested in an old lady like me?” Suzanne held up her hand to stop Carter from his gentlemanly response.

  “We kept running into each other at fundraisers and at the races. I thought it was fate, but now I think it was planned. Anyway, he kept asking me out, and finally I said yes. He showered me with attention, and I fell for it. He kept telling me how smart I was and asking my opinion on horses. We’d been dating a couple of months when I overheard him on the phone with his partner, Sam Basques.”

  Carter sucked in a breath. “Sam is bad news. He was the manager of a farm in Virginia and ran it into the ground after a couple of horses mysteriously died. The farm had to declare bankruptcy, yet Sam still had money to invest in top horses. It’s what kept getting him jobs at other farms. He had an eye for undervalued horses that ended up performing well. Off course, there are rumors of illegal drug use to make those horses race better.”

  “I know that now. I didn’t know it then,” Suzanne told him. “See, Mick has a small stable of horses, and he owns one or two with Sam. I overheard them talking about Miss Mambo and how they thought she may go for as little as two hundred thousand when, with her bloodlines, she could make millions as a brood mare.”

  “Go on,” Carter encouraged.

  “So, we went to the Saratoga sales last October. They’re newer and I didn’t know as many of the people as I would have known here. I told them I’d look at Miss Mambo and if I liked her I would come in on her. Mick and Sam had fifty thousand and I would own the rest of her, however much that was, if I bought into her. Well, you know me. I love any horse and this is the sweetest girl I’d ever met. I instantly fell in love with her without even looking at her bloodlines. I trusted Mick, after all. Why would he want her so bad if she wasn’t any good?”

  “How much did you put in?�
� Carter asked with a sinking feeling.

  “Two hundred ten thousand dollars. We got into a bidding war, but all I could think about was that sweet horse. Anyway, I bought her and moved her to my farm against Sam’s protests. We bred her to one of Sam’s horses this spring, but she didn’t take. The plan is to breed her again next week when she comes in season. However, I thought maybe something was wrong with Sam’s stallion, which I had never heard of. I thought, this is a great mare. I’ll get a great racehorse for her. Well, I called some farms and do you know what they told me when I asked to breed to their stallions?”

  “They told you no,” Carter said, understanding what had happened.

  “Exactly. They said she didn’t have the bloodlines to be bred to their stallions, even if I was willing to pay the one to two hundred thousand dollar stud fee. I told Nellie this, and she asked me how much I’ve put into horses owned by Mick and if Mick had asked for any other money.”

  “Has he?”

  Suzanne swallowed hard. “I’ve invested the two hundred thousand in Miss Mambo and have promised to go in on another joint ownership with a filly that’s being sold at the Keeneland sales next month. That’s why this was urgent. I’m hoping I am wrong about Mick and he’s as in the dark as I am, but I’m afraid they’ve played me. Either way, even if Mick isn’t in on it, I’ve been played by Sam.”

  Carter took a deep breath. Suzanne looked ready to crumble, and he was the one who was going to deliver the final blow. “I looked over Miss Mambo’s bloodlines and history and the history of her sire and dam. She’s worth maybe twenty thousand dollars. I’m sorry, Mrs. Bristol.”

  “What can I do?” Suzanne asked through silent tears.

  “Let me call Ryan Parker. He’s the head of the local FBI. There’s a history of racketeering in horseracing and horse showing. I don’t know if it meets that level yet, but Ryan may want to look into it. Is that okay with you?”

 

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