He kissed her cheek and walked toward the swinging doors, past two nurses who both smiled prettily. Then the door shut and she was alone.
***
“So an animal may have caused the accident.” Dino loosened his grip on the phone, his aching guilt easing as he spoke to the police officer. There had been no note, no evidence to show Slim had deliberately driven off the road. There was also no evidence of alcohol so his insurance would be valid. “Yes, that’s right,” Dino added. “I’ve never known him to use drugs. Guess something made him swerve. Thanks for the update.”
He closed his phone and gestured at Cody who hovered in the barn aisle. “You’re in charge today,” he said. “Make sure Echo is walked and wrapped. Call if you have questions.”
“Sure. Don’t worry about a thing.” Cody tucked the clipboard under his arm and shook his head. “Damn shame about Slim. Did someone go to that place where his daughter lives? Don’t think he had any other family.”
Dino dragged a hand over his jaw. Of course, Jill. And Stephanie also should be told in person—she’d known Slim for years. “Does Jill live in that big gray building on the way to Lone Star?” he asked. “Helping Hands something?”
“That’s the place.” Cody grimaced. “Looks like a jail.”
“Okay. I’ll stop by on the way to the track.” Dino cast a longing look at the training oval, wishing he could stay. The new exercise rider was okay and probably could follow instructions, but Cody was a groom and knew little about conditioning.
At least Echo had bounced back from her race in good shape. Her legs were tight and cool, and Cody could look after things. He didn’t want Becky stuck with all the fallout from Slim’s death—she was centered on Martha, and rightly so. It wouldn’t be a big deal to take some of the load off her shoulders.
He fortified himself with a deep breath, stopped at his house to pick up Slim’s employee file and headed to the interstate.
The Helping Hands Living Center was easy to find and only forty-five minutes from Conrad’s. Proximity had probably been important; Slim hadn’t picked the place for its aesthetic appeal.
He lingered in the parking lot and flipped through the file, glad Becky had made a copy. Slim’s wife had died of cancer eleven years ago, and it appeared Jill was the only living relative. He shook his head at the sparse information. Damn shame. Both Jill and Slim had been dealt an excessive amount of bad luck.
He found what he was looking for and tossed the file on the seat with a relieved grunt. Finally, a break for the Barrett family. Slim’s insurance policy included a hefty death payout. And none of the exclusions applied.
He swung open the door of his pickup, pausing to study the bleak building. He disliked hospitals, avoided institutions of any type—the smell, the confinement, the despair. Tainted air seemed to seep into his skin and always made him want to bolt.
He trudged into the foyer. The receptionist was young, perky and delighted to have a visitor. Full of smiles, she seated him in a cramped office with a motley assortment of pictures and an oversized desk tag that read, John C. Chisholm.
Two minutes later, a solemn-faced man strode behind the desk. “Yes,” he said after shaking Dino’s hand. “We heard a rumor of the accident. Mr. Barrett visited Jill almost every day.” He cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the tip of his pen. “Will someone else be looking after the monthly payments? Our facility has a waiting list and naturally we’re a bit concerned.”
“No problem.” Dino shifted, uncomfortable in the hard seat. “It will take time but insurance will cover all Jill’s costs. Give me your card, and I’ll have the insurance company contact you.”
“Very good.” The man smiled, happy again, and passed over a white business card. “Jill’s outside with the others. Please don’t say anything about her father. We’ll have a psychiatrist break the news. It’s difficult to know what she understands.”
“Oh, I don’t need to see her,” Dino said, but John C. Chisholm had already risen with an air of expectancy and opened the door.
Dino squared his shoulders and followed the man down a long corridor. They took a sharp right through a wide double door, down a ramp and into a fenced courtyard.
“That’s Jill, the one in the wheelchair. She likes to sit close to the grass. Thanks for dropping by.” Chisholm nodded and turned away.
Dino headed toward Jill who was propped in the chair. A kind-eyed nurse adjusted a pink blanket and gave him an encouraging smile before edging away.
Jill’s hair was short, almost shaved, her eyes blank, and a thin notebook lay on her wasted legs. Jesus.
“Hello, Jill. My name’s Dino.” He knelt in front of her. She seemed to be watching some swooping swallows, and he fervently wished Becky was with him. She’d know how to handle this. Was always generous with her time and love. In fact, he resolved to bring her here as soon as Martha improved.
The birds disappeared, and he drew in a deep breath. “I dropped in to say hi. Check if you need anything.” He paused, not sure if she could even understand him. “I’ll drop by again. Maybe next week.”
“Orse.”
“Pardon.” He leaned closer, watching her lips. She’d definitely said something, and her attention was now focused on his chest.
“Orse.”
He looked down and noted the small Polo crest on his shirt.
Her eyes flashed with interest, the blank expression gone. “Orse,” she repeated and then she smiled, a big, beautiful grin that ripped at his chest.
His mouth opened but he could only nod as he tried to work words around the lump welling in his throat. “Yes, Jill,” he finally managed. “It’s a horse.”
“She loves horses.” The hovering nurse placed a gentle hand on Jill’s shoulder. “She’s a great artist too. Show him your drawings, Jill.”
Jill slowly opened her notebook, still distracted by his shirt.
“She’s always been able to draw,” the nurse said proudly. “Sometimes she sketches for hours.”
Dino’s eyes widened as Lyric filled the pages. “I know that horse. She’s a mare Jill used to ride.”
“She draws that particular one a lot, although she sketches birds and trees and round roads too. But she especially likes to draw horses. She’s very talented. And it makes her happy.”
Jill’s pencil skimmed over the page, her attention fixed on his shirt. Already he could see the image of the tiny Polo horse as she recreated it on the blank page. She laid her pencil down, awkwardly ripped out the page and passed it to him. “Orse.”
The nurse laughed. “She must like you. She doesn’t usually give away her pictures.”
Dino scanned the remarkable replica of the Polo logo and immediately saw the road the nurse mentioned—not a round road but an oval track. He swallowed again, buffeted by emotions impossible to contain.
Everyone spoke about how hard it was to give up the track, to give up the horses. Clearly Jill hadn’t been able to give them up either. The love she felt for Lyric, for the horses, was evident in her shining eyes and the lovingly drawn pictures.
He clasped the paper to his chest. “Thank you, Jill,” he said. “Thank you very much.”
***
Dino leaned back on Stephanie’s couch and downed a badly needed coffee.
“I can’t believe Slim’s dead.” Stephanie shook her head in sorrow. “Thanks for dropping by. But what’ll happen to Jill?”
“She’ll be okay once the insurance is settled. You should see her, Steph. She’s quite a little artist. She remembered every detail of Lyric, right down to the cowlick on that mare’s forehead. She came alive when she was drawing.”
“Horses get in your blood, a natural high. Imagine how thrilled she’d be to get out in the country and see some real ones. I’ve only been stuck inside for a week and already I’m depressed.”
Dino glanced around the tiny room, uncomfortably fingering his cup, knowing he’d go stark-raving mad confined to an apartment. Unable to fi
nd solace with horses. Or even worse, stuck in an institution.
He abruptly rose. “When’s your cast off?”
“Another four weeks.”
“Well, hurry up. We need you back galloping.” He checked his watch. It had been a depressing day, and obviously he wasn’t going to make it to Lone Star until noon. He’d already spent too much time at Stephanie’s, but it would have been callous to rush off after hitting her with news of Slim’s accident. He reached for his wallet. “I’m going to leave you some cash. Back payment for all those videos you analyzed with me.”
“No, I’m good. And you don’t have to buy any more groceries either. Becky texted me the results of Echo’s race and her genius betting. She made me a pile of money—hit the trifecta—and apparently Martha is tossing in her profits too. Man, I love that girl.”
“Martha?”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “No, Becky. Best nurse ever. I’m sure she won’t have trouble finding another job.”
He set his mug in the sink, the clink loud as it rattled against several dirty dishes. Of course Becky would have to find another job. Rather quickly too, if Martha didn’t return to her mansion. He was moving anyway, so it was irrelevant where she went; any job would be too far from his isolated ranch. Too far for any meaningful relationship.
He stepped over some toy horses scattered on the carpet and walked toward the door. “Gotta go. But drop by Conrad’s and visit whenever you need space.” He gave a wry smile. “I promise not to make you work.”
“Really.” Her face lit up. “I’d love to come and enjoy the place. Not much I can do though, except give advice to your new gallop girl.”
“Advice is always appreciated.” He glanced around the tiny apartment. Not bad if only used for sleeping, but anything more and it would turn cramped in a hurry. “Guess you and your daughter could always move into Slim’s place,” he said thoughtfully. “Be temporary, but free. If Ted has any say, he’ll sell out damn quick, but you should get at least six months there. And you could do some of Slim’s job, help Cody with the horses until they’re disbursed.”
“Really? Oh, Dino!” She squealed with delight—obviously forgetting her kid was napping—and flung her arms around his neck. “You really are the kindest man. I’d love to convalesce at Conrad’s. And I’ll organize Slim’s things. Do my share to help.”
He gave her shoulder an affectionate pat, careful to avoid the arm with the cast. “All right. I’ll tell Martha when I go to the hospital. And maybe you can look after Slim’s cat. Now I really gotta go.”
“In a rush to get back to the hospital? And probably not just to see Martha.” She grinned. “Be careful. Your playboy reputation is slipping.”
He rolled his eyes but her knowing laugh followed him to his truck, lingered as he rumbled back onto the highway.
Jill’s drawing fluttered on the seat. He eased his foot off the accelerator, thinking of Slim as he slowed the pickup to just over the limit. Probably the man had been speeding and swerved to avoid an animal. Maybe even a loose horse.
Slim definitely would have tried to avoid a horse. Most horses. Maybe not Lyric. It must have been bittersweet to see Jill draw pictures of the mare that had derailed her life. Ironically, that seemed to be the only horse she remembered.
He shook his head, trying to banish useless, sentimental thoughts. Some things simply couldn’t be changed. No sense brooding. Best to keep it simple. Set goals, go after them, have a little fun along the way.
Although he’d have to remember to snap some pictures of Lyric. Maybe Becky would help with that. Groom Lyric for a photo. Come with him to visit Jill. Maybe move down south with him.
Whoa. Where did that come from? He blew out an exasperated breath. She wouldn’t like his ranch anyway; it was much too isolated. She’d want a nursing job close by so she could visit Martha in her fancy retirement home. Martha was definitely more than an employer, and Becky would be ripped in two if she were far away. Her face would turn all pinched and sad, and he couldn’t go through that again. No way.
It wouldn’t be smart to piss off Martha either—he hoped to keep her best horses in training, at least until they were sold. Although all the politics and second guessing didn’t really matter anymore.
He’d done it. He had his ranch, his own slice of heaven. Godammit, he’d done it. But he stared through the windshield at the gray stretch of highway and wondered why the accomplishment felt so hollow.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Three tractors harrowed the oval by the time Dino reached Lone Star. High noon and not a horse in sight, not even on the hot walkers. Once training hours were over, the bustling backside slowed to a crawl. He eased his pickup to a stop, relieved Shane’s vehicle was still on the grounds. Tomorrow he’d come for the gallops although that meant he’d have to stay at his apartment and not at Conrad’s. Damn he hoped Becky was doing okay.
He walked toward his shedrow, texting her a message: Hope Martha’s okay. Will bring supper tonight. Entered the shedrow. Horses eyed him curiously. Hunter stuck his head over the door then dismissed him and returned to his hay net.
The colt looked good. Legs wrapped, coat sleek. He’d even put on a few pounds following his nasal infection. Goddamn, Slim. Dino rubbed his forehead. The man had been mixed-up and bitter about Jill, but Dino couldn’t quite forgive him for sponging Hunter. Couldn’t understand it either. Now he never would.
Becky wanted to hide Slim’s treachery from Martha, but Dino didn’t believe in coddling. The truth was the truth.
“Afternoon, boss,” Shane called. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it today. How’s my favorite girl?”
Dino blew out a sigh. So what if Shane was half in love with his woman. Becky didn’t look at Shane the way she looked at him, and she had a lot more depth than Laura. Maybe they could even make this thing work. Four hundred miles wasn’t that far. He had a good truck and, besides, he’d never needed much sleep.
“She sore anywhere?”
Dino stared at Shane, eyes narrowing. This was getting a little too personal.
Shane backed up a step. “Just wondered how she moved today. Quite an effort, you know, fast time.”
Echo, of course. What the hell was wrong with him? He nodded quickly. “She’s perfect, legs nice and tight, sound as a dollar.”
“Thanks for letting me saddle yesterday. A real honor. And she made us all a chunk of money.”
Especially me. That filly earned me my bonus. Dino gestured at his office. “Let’s grab a coffee and go over our plans for San Antonio. You’ll be looking at more responsibility there. And more pay.” His words came out, slowly at first then in a rush. “I’ll be moving around a bit, between my ranch, San Antonio…and Conrad’s.”
“What about Mrs. Conrad’s horses? A bloodstock agent dropped by, interested in Hunter and a few others. Left his card.”
“I expect she’ll sell over the next few months. Have everything dispersed by the fall. Unfortunately Slim’s death hit her hard.”
Shane blew out a ragged sigh. “I told the staff, like you asked. Hard to believe he was walking around here yesterday, right as rain.”
“Slim was here? At Lone Star?”
“Yeah. Looked worn out. Wouldn’t surprise me if he fell asleep at the wheel.”
What time of day was that?” Dino asked.
“I don’t know. Just before night feed. I assumed he came to watch the race.”
“Was he near Hunter?” Dino’s voice sharpened.
“No, boss. You know we watch the horses close. No one’s allowed to feed or go in their stalls.”
Dino nodded, his tension easing. “Was he drinking?”
“No. Just grabbed a Coke from the fridge, talked a little and left. Looked exhausted though. Eyes all baggy.”
So Slim really had fallen asleep. No need for him—for anyone—to feel guilty.
Gravel rattled, and a Jeep with orange roof lights pulled up to the door, stopping too fast, parking too
close. He scowled as exhaust drifted down the aisle. Horses needed good air, and this wasn’t even a vet or farrier, only a security vehicle. Those people never thought about the horses, too preoccupied with rules and regulations.
A second vehicle rammed beside the first, and three grim-faced men trooped into the barn.
“Dino Anders?” the short one asked.
“Right here.” Sighing, he walked toward them. Some saddles had been stolen from barn fourteen, and one of his grooms had been charged with theft. This was probably follow-up but it was bad timing. He wanted to hurry back to Becky. Seemed shit never stopped.
“We’re here to inspect your office and feed room,” the short security guard said.
Dino gestured at his office. “Go ahead. Door’s open. Saddles are around the corner although they’re all legit.” He glanced back at Shane, dismissing the guards. “We’ll work Hunter five furlongs tomorrow. Call Brad’s agent and see if he can ride next week.”
Voices rose, intrusive and oddly triumphant. “Mr. Anders? Are these your needles?”
He spun around in disbelief. “Fuck, no! Where’d you find them?”
“In the fridge, behind the milk. I’m afraid we have to report this as possession.”
They dropped some vials and needles into a plastic bag. Dino stared, stunned to silence. Shane’s face was white and he looked just as shocked.
“As the trainer on record, you’re responsible for these drugs,” the tall officer said.
Dino squeezed his eyes shut. A muscle ticked in his left jaw. When he opened his eyes, the solemn men were still standing in the aisle, still holding the needles, still staring in accusation. “I know the rules,” he said, his voice rusty. “How long’s the suspension?”
“Medication infraction—first offence, thirty days.”
Jesus. Thirty fucking days. He felt like a criminal.
“And we’re bringing a vet to pull blood from your horses.”
“Please do,” he snapped. “Test every single one. And I’ll be fighting this at the damn hearing.”
Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) Page 102