by Helen Conrad
The house looked beautiful with the early morning sun washing the walls a creamy golden color. Allison was already mounted and in the yard. David stood with a short, dark man watching Shawnee ride up on Miki. And a very beautiful, very blonde woman sat on the stone bench near the entryway to the house, a warm mug of coffee in her hand. This, Shawnee was sure, must be Megan Reilly.
Every pair of eyes but David’s was watching Shawnee with cold hostility, and even David’s glance wasn’t very warm. He seemed to be assessing things, looking her over. A deep, primitive instinct made her want to turn Miki and head for the hills, but she swallowed hard and forced a smile instead.
“Good morning,” she said with false cheer. She wanted to go on and say something subtle but cutting about their lack of hospitality, but looking into the three icy faces, she didn’t feel quite brave enough.
“Don’t you have a proper Western riding outfit?” was Allison’s greeting.
Shawnee looked from Allison’s highly polished boots, velvety suede waistcoat and flawless felt hat to her own ancient cowboy boots and stone-washed jeans. She did have a set of regulation Western wear, but only one, and she was saving that for the show.
“We’re just about the same size,” Allison went on, sidling her horse closer. “I’ll give you some of my old things if you like.”
Did she consider this a kindness? Shawnee realized, with surprise, that she just might. No matter how it was meant, though, it was impossible to accept.
“No, thank you,” she said, chin high. “I feel more comfortable in this.”
Allison’s smile was just this side of malicious. “I’m sure you do, dear. But you’ll have to learn to rise above that.” She turned and gestured towards the short, dark man. “This is Horst Haver, my coach. David wants him to give you some help with your horse.” She let her cold glance travel over Miki for barely a moment. “And it looks like you need it.”
It was obvious that, though Allison wasn’t enthusiastic about sharing a few training sessions with Shawnee, she felt in no way threatened by her. She probably considered it an act of charity. Shawnee resolved to ride conservatively. There was no point letting them know how good Miki really was.
“I don’t need advice from Mr. Haver,” she said stiffly, after nodding to the man. “David asked me to come and try out your facilities, but I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your training session.”
David hadn’t said a word. He’d been acting like a spectator, but now he finally entered the fray. “I’ve told Horst to give you pointers if there’s anything he sees that you could use improvement on. But he won’t be breathing down your neck. You’re on your own. Use the place any way you want to.”
That was something of a relief. Although she’d told herself it might be just as well to let Miki work in front of the coach and test how well they were able to hide his blindness from an expert, deep down, she’d been dreading it. She turned to thank David, but before she could get a word out, he’d swung on his heel and was walking toward the golden girl. From the way she was smiling, Shawnee knew his look to her must be full of promise.
It took a moment to settle her concentration. But she’d come to work, not to moon over David. Hadn’t she? And work she did.
Allison had a training field set up more elaborately than any show-ring Shawnee had ever seen. She had everything—barrels and bales of hay stacked in different configurations for jumping practice, wooden rings and poles laid parallel for agility and practice in backing and maneuverability, wood for dragging, artificial streams for practice in fording, gates of every description.
Shawnee felt like a child given a key to Disneyland. She and Miki tried everything once, then went back over the places where they’d been a bit ragged again and again, usually making sure they were working at a part of the field as far away as possible from where Allison and her coach were training. At the end of an hour, Shawnee drew Miki to the side to rest and watched Allison perform.
What she saw made her want to look away. The woman was a marvelous rider, and the horse she rode had the grace of a ballet dancer. From all she’d heard, this was her main competition, and it was very tough.
The coach, Horst Haver, might present a problem as well. He hadn’t said a word, but she’d seen the look in his eyes. He didn’t seem to have realized Miki was blind, but he had realized he and Shawnee were good. And he wasn’t about to give her any pointers, no matter what David had told him. Not unless David came out and ordered him to.
But that was just as well. She didn’t want pointers from him. She knew what she was capable of, she and Miki. And together they would do what they could.
“Do you find the facilities adequate?” Allison asked when they’d both dismounted and she’d dismissed the coach.
“Of course,” Shawnee replied. “Overwhelming is probably a better word.”
Allison smiled thinly. “It has been a chore preparing for Western classes. I used to ride that way as a child, of course, but lately I’ve been concentrating on English equitation. A much more civilized way for a horse to operate, don’t you agree? I do wish they would stop this antiquated clinging to the Western style for Californio Days. I’m going to have David propose a change for next year to the board.”
Shawnee shook her head, hiding a smile. Allison had about as much chance of switching the local affections to English classes as she would have of bringing back cockfighting.
“You do ride magnificently,” she said with simple fact, “in either style.”
Allison looked surprised, then pleased. “Thank you,” she said, and for a moment she looked unaffectedly open. “You’re a pretty good rider yourself.” She glanced over at Miki. “And your horse is quite good. With work, you two might provide me with some excitement next month.”
She turned away, but Shawnee had seen a flash of vulnerability, and for just a moment, she’d had a hint that there might be an Allison hiding inside this woman who would be nice to know.
She took Miki across Rancho Verde on the way home, taking every sidetrack that might help his conditioning. She saw David riding with Megan Reilly off to the distance, but she avoided them, telling herself she was glad David had a woman to keep him occupied. Now he would leave her alone and let her keep her mind on her goal. Wouldn’t he?
But when she answered her cell phone that evening, it was David’s voice on the line.
“Did you get anything out of your workout?” he asked.
She hesitated, then decided she might as well tell the truth. “Yes,” she admitted. “It was very helpful. I appreciate . . .”
“Be back tomorrow morning,” he cut in. “Same time, same place.”
“What? But David. . .”
“I mean it, Shawnee. I want you to have the best training facilities available, and since they’re here at Rancho Verde, that’s where you’ll have to train. In fact, you might consider boarding that horse here with us. It would make everything more convenient.”
She shook her head, totally bewildered. He wanted his sister to win. She was sure of it. So why would he give Shawnee this opportunity?
“Why?” she asked simply. “What do you get out of it?”
There was the suggestion of a smile in his voice when he answered. “I get to watch you ride,” he said cheerfully. “Believe me, that’s compensation enough.”
Those confused feelings were surfacing again. Why did he do this to her? “I don’t think I should. I think it would be best if I stayed as far away from you as possible.”
“What’s the matter, Shawnee?” he taunted playfully. “Can’t handle it? Afraid you’ll be unable to resist the temptation to throw yourself into my arms?”
She gasped. “David Santiago . . . !”
“Be there tomorrow,” he ordered, and hung up.
What did he want? Why was he forcing her this way? And what did he mean by implying that she would get what she wanted from him if she did what he asked?
That had to mean Granpa Jim and the
land. What else could he be talking about? But she was ready to do anything she could to get David to leave the twenty acres where they belonged. So she went back the next morning, even though it meant having to see David with Megan again.
“Just who is Megan Reilly?” she couldn’t resist asking her sister that evening.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Lisa admitted. “But you can bet I’ll find out by this time tomorrow.”
True to her word, she arrived the next evening brimming with information.
“Megan Reilly’s father owns a huge international shipping line and half of San Francisco,” she announced.
“Impossible,” Shawnee scoffed.
“Well, maybe not that much, but they own a lot. A connection with them would consolidate Stewart Santiago’s place in the Napa wine country and give the Santiagos an edge on the international wine market.”
Shawnee shook her head. “Wonderful. But who is Megan Reilly?”
Lisa sighed. “A good marriage prospect for David. That’s most important. He doesn’t seem to be tempted by love-at least not yet. So why not go for business advantage? The smart money’s betting on it.” She studied her sister’s unhappy face for a long moment. “She’s also the daughter of Allison’s best friend from her boarding-school days. She wasn’t so hot scholastically, but she was voted homecoming queen in her senior year at Markington Prep. She calls herself an actress. There’s been talk about Hollywood. But she’s crazy about our boy David, and has said publicly that marriage to him would be better than starring opposite Matt Damon.”
Shawnee tried to laugh. “That’s quite an admission.”
Lisa nodded. “The girl is obviously serious.” She put a hand on Shawnee’s drooping shoulder. “You aren’t. . . I mean, you haven’t . . .”
Shawnee managed a harried smile. “Fallen for ‘our boy David’ myself? Don’t be absurd. He means nothing to me.”
But she couldn’t persuade even herself to believe that lie.
But she went back. She resisted his advice that she board Miki there. She couldn’t allow them to get that familiar with her horse. Someone would guess the truth right away. But she did go to use the facilities, and she kept as far away from the others as possible.
On the fourth day of the training at Rancho Verde, there was a surprise. A young girl was riding a magnificent bay alongside Allison when Shawnee arrived.
“This is Petra,” Allison told her, and for once her face was full of light and warmth. “My daughter.”
Petra looked very much like a smaller version of her mother, but her eyes danced with merry vitality and her smile was open and welcoming. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she told Shawnee. “Now I get to judge for myself!”
Shawnee found herself laughing with the girl, even though she wasn’t sure just how she should take that last statement. But in the days that followed, she got to know Petra better and realized there was nothing but well-meaning friendliness behind her joking. Petra was also training for the horse-show, though she had no hope of doing very well.
“I’m all thumbs and question marks,” she laughed to Shawnee “Luckily, my horse knows what to do. Without her, I’d get lost going from the corral to the stables.”
But she tried very hard. It was evident she had ambitions of making her mother proud, one way or another.
Shawnee and Miki were working hard, too. So hard, Shawnee told herself, she was successfully blocking out all thoughts of David. But every time she saw him with Megan Reilly, there was a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t explain away.
How long was the woman staying, anyway? She didn’t dare ask, but every morning when she arrived for training, she hoped to hear that Megan had gone home.
But…what if she was beginning to consider Rancho Verde her home? That didn’t bear thinking of.
Every few days, David went on short business trips, usually to San Francisco. Sometimes Megan seemed to be gone, too. Was she travelling with him? Shawnee didn’t want to know. It was none of her affair. David had hardly spoken to her for almost two weeks. Whatever interest he’d had seemed to have been superseded by Megan’s blonde glow.
She stumbled into a picnic one day while riding across the ranch. Miki began acting strangely as they passed through a thicket of California laurel. She realized later that the big horse had sensed David nearby, but at the time she thought something was wrong and stopped to loosen the cinch and check Miki’s hooves for pebbles. Suddenly David was standing there beside her.
“Oh!” she cried, startled and jumping half out of her skin.
“Steady.” He put out a hand to hold her. “You must have your head in the clouds. Miki saw me coming five minutes ago.”
She glanced at him, then at her horse. Miki was snorting and pawing the ground, obviously quite happy to “see” David again, almost purring when David reached out to stroke his nose. Did the man’s charm have to be so ubiquitous?
“What are you doing way out here?” she asked, sounding annoyed to see him, even though her skin was tingling with his presence.
“We’re having some lunch.” He pointed and she turned, catching sight of Megan and Petra seated on a blanket beneath a tree in the distance. She took a few steps sideways into the shade of a stand of bushes, taking herself out of their line of vision.
“Will you join us?”
“No, thanks,” she said a little too hastily. “I’ve got to get back.”
His shirt was casually open and looked crisp and cool against his tanned skin. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and cocked his head as he looked at her. “You take good care of your grandfather, don’t you?” he asked softly.
“I try to.”
Suddenly his hand was in her hair, sifting through its silky darkness. “I admire that in you,” he commented. Then he grinned. “But why not? Rancho Verde does that to people. Makes them care almost as much about the past as the present. And breeding will out.”
She was shivering and she knew she had to get away quickly. “You should know,” she mumbled inanely. “You’re the horse-breeder, aren’t you?”
“Right.” His hand tightened in her hair, holding her prisoner. “I’m the expert. Ask me anything about breeding. I know all about it.”
She bit her lip, confused and defensive. “Is Megan Reilly an expert in breeding, too?” she asked, then blinked, wishing she could recall the words.
“Megan?” His grin was devilish. “I don’t know if I should answer for her. Why do you ask?”
“Aren’t you . . . aren’t you and she dating or something?” That was a lame question but she couldn’t seem to say anything right.
“Or something,” he agreed good-naturedly. “Are you suggesting I should be looking her over for breeding qualities the way I look over a good mare for my stock?” He nodded as though considering the problem. “She does have good bone structure, doesn’t she?” He put a hand to his chin as though really thinking it through. “Can’t you just see the beautiful children we would have, she and I?” His voice was light and teasing, but there was something smoldering in his eyes. “They’d be long and lean and elegant, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” she snapped. “Perfect little gods and goddesses.”
“You and I, on the other hand . . .” He hooked his clasped hands behind her head, pulling her slowly towards him. “We’d have tough little devils, wouldn’t we?”
“Mongrels,” she agreed, feeling a bit breathless. “Hardly worth imagining.”
“I can imagine them,” he said huskily as he began a sensual assault on the tender skin of her neck. “I can imagine them just fine.”
The sun was hot but it had nothing on the feel of his skin against hers. She thought she was fighting, fighting so hard, to push him away, but when she opened her eyes, she found she hadn’t moved a muscle. He was kissing her, kissing her like she’d never been kissed before, and she was floating above the clouds, hoping it would never stop. His mo
uth on hers was sweet persuasion and she opened to his caress, meeting his ardor with a burst of her own desire that seemed to spring out of nowhere.
But it was wrong, and she knew it. As suddenly as she had succumbed, she began to withdraw.
He released her mouth but still held her in his arms, his slightly rough face rubbing gently against her cheek. She gasped, fighting back against the sizzling sensuality.
“Oh, Shawnee, you’ve got so much passion simmering inside you, you’re going to explode if you don’t let it out,” he whispered near her ear.
“No!” Her voice sounded strangled and she said it again, more forcefully this time. She pushed him back, though she had to fight herself as much as him to do it. She stared at him, shaking her head, trembling. Every time he kissed her it got harder and harder to resist him. This had to stop.
“Don’t do this again, David! I can’t handle it. You’ve got to stay away from me. Just stay away!” She pulled back without looking into his face. She wasn’t sure what she would see there. Derision? Amusement? Anger? She didn’t want to know.
Swinging up on Miki, she pressed her knees into his sides. The big horse sprang into action, carrying her out over the hills and far away from the man who tore her heart into pieces and left her limp with confused emotion.
She couldn’t sleep that night. Turning on the light and pulling out the book and papers Reid had given her, she began to read more about the Santiagos and their influence on this valley—her valley. Her home. She read long into the night and when she slept, she dreamed about Spanish caballeros, and every one of them had David’s laughing dark eyes.
She had to force herself to go back the next day. If she hadn’t been sure that Miki was gaining a lot from the practice, she would have avoided having to see David again. But when they did come face to face, his eyes showed no memory of what had happened the day before. She sometimes wondered if she’d dreamed that, too.
She stopped Miki near Petra’s horse that morning and swung down to stand beside the girl and watch her mother perform a particularly difficult gate-opening.