“No need to swear, Mr. Anders.”
His phone chirped and he scanned the display. Shot a warning scowl at the listening officers, turned and took the call.
***
“You look tired, dear.”
Becky opened her eyes and scrambled from the hard hospital chair. “Oh, Martha, I was so worried.”
“Was it my heart again?”
Becky nodded, her fingers automatically reaching for Martha’s hand. “Not bad though. They don’t think there’s any damage. The paramedics were wonderful.”
Martha’s face blanched in memory. “I can’t believe Slim is dead. What happened?” Sorrow cracked her voice.
Becky hesitated. The doctors wanted to keep her calm.
“Tell me.” Martha’s voice rose.
“It was a highway accident,” Becky said. “No one else was involved. He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Died instantly.”
Martha closed her eyes, but moisture seeped from the corners. “We’ll make sure he has a nice funeral,” she finally said. “Ask Jocelyn to help. She’s good with funerals. Organized two for Ted. Don’t know what to do about Jill though.” Her fingers twisted at the edge of the sheet.
“I’ll check into that,” Becky said. “You rest, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“You’re a good girl.” Her gaze drifted to Becky’s neck, and her mouth curved in a weak smile. “Glad you’re wearing those pearls. I want you to have my diamonds too. But you need some makeup. You look pale, and your hair needs washing. Never let your looks go.” She made a disapproving sound then closed her eyes.
Becky almost choked with relief. Doctors had been cautiously optimistic, but the fact that Martha was already worrying about her nurse’s appearance was far more reassuring than any medical report. She turned away, jerking in shock at the figure framed in the doorway.
“Satisfied?” Ted’s sneer was low and nasty, and she edged back a step.
“What do you mean?”
“Trying to weasel into her affections. First pearls, then diamonds. Well, it won’t work. The will is made, and she doesn’t look healthy.”
“Shut up, Ted.” Anger propelled her forward, and she grabbed his arm. “If you’re going to talk like this,” she hissed, “at least have the decency to take it outside.”
His arm was hard and sinewy and revolting. Everything about him was revolting. But she tugged him out the door, turned and shut it behind them. “I resent your nasty insinuations,” she added in a more level voice. “Your aunt’s wellbeing has always been my biggest concern. If you’re going to make negative comments, I’ll insist you’re banned from her room. Because contrary to what you think, she has plenty of life left.”
“Plenty of life left.” His mouth thinned. “One can only hope. And I do apologize but I’ve been worried. Now please advise me of my aunt’s condition.”
“She had another heart attack, mild though. Not as bad as the first.” Becky crossed her arms. “There doesn’t seem to be much damage. They’re still running tests.”
“But clearly it’s time she moves. She needs more support, more of a buffer. I assume selfishness about your job won’t affect your professional opinion?” He raised an eyebrow.
She numbly shook her head.
“Good,” he said. “Living in a large house, owning a stable of racehorses, simply has too many inherent risks. She can’t deal with much shock, and it’s best she move. I’m glad we agree on that. I’ll talk to Mr. Anders or that other man, Slim, about the fastest way to dispose of the animals.”
“Slim’s dead,” Becky said dully. “And we’re not doing anything until Martha makes the decision. After the doctors’ input.”
“Dead? What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry.” She softened her voice, surprised by Ted’s reaction. “He died in a highway accident yesterday.”
“When? After the races?”
“I’m not sure. The fact is, he died unnecessarily and people who cared for him, people like your aunt, are upset.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. But why didn’t someone tell me? And who’s going to manage the place?” He pivoted and walked slowly down the corridor.
She pressed a hand against the wall, confused and exhausted. Ted seemed genuinely upset about Slim but less concerned about his aunt. A chill snaked down her back and she resolved never to leave him alone with Martha. It would be a simple matter to arrange for a cot. All she needed was to gather a few clothes. She’d call Jocelyn and have her pack a bag.
She pulled out her phone, spirits lifting when she saw Dino’s text message: Hope Martha’s okay. Will bring supper tonight.
He really was thoughtful, and it had been unfair to blame him for Slim’s accident. He’d only been doing his job and had promoted Conrad Stables exactly as Martha and Malcolm had wished.
And bought his ranch in the process.
She shoved away that niggling thought, didn’t want to let his bonus bother her. He’d never made a secret about his reasons for winning, and that single-minded determination was one of the reasons she loved him.
She loved him.
Despair swept her. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Martha had warned he wasn’t good husband material. And it was no secret he didn’t want to get married again, that racing was the most important thing in his life.
He had changed though. Didn’t flirt or look at other women. He’d been genuinely concerned about Martha too, was leaving Lone Star and driving back to the hospital tonight. Maybe he’d pick up her bag of clothes on the way.
Her despair mingled with optimism. She hoped he was here the next time Ted popped by—Dino was tough. He’d put Ted in his place. And she wanted to discuss Ted’s odd reaction to the news of Slim’s death. She pulled out her phone and pressed Dino’s number, eager to hear his voice.
“Hello, Becky.”
His voice was tight, so guarded she knew instantly something was wrong. Darn. She shouldn’t have called him at the track where he was always busy. Should have sent a text message. Flustered, her words came in a rush. “Are you dropping by the hospital tonight?”
The taut silence made her heart crash. “Doesn’t matter,” she added, “but if you come, can you bring some clothes? Jocelyn will have a bag ready.”
“Becky, I don’t think—”
“It’s okay. I know you’re busy.” Her knuckles whitened around the phone. This was her fault and she obviously was expecting more than he could give. “I’ll find someone else. Good luck with the horses. Hope Echo is okay.”
“This is a really bad time. There’s some track officials here with me.”
“No problem. See you later,” she said brightly, determined to keep her dignity, desperate to cut the connection before he heard the crack in her voice.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Her biggest problem is apathy.” The doctor paused, consulting Martha’s chart before glancing at Becky. “She’s only seventy-four. We just need something to keep her going. Any grandchildren expecting babies?”
Becky shook her head. “She only has one nephew, and he’s not married.”
“That won’t work then.” The doctor smiled boyishly, looking so young it was hard to believe he was in charge of Martha’s wellbeing. “But anything that cranks her interest, makes her feel needed, would be beneficial. I’ll talk to the family tonight.”
He walked down the aisle, his head swiveling as Stephanie bounced past with an oversized shoulder bag and a graffiti-colored cast on her arm. Her perkiness drew a smile from the doctor and a disapproving frown from a slit-eyed nurse.
“Hey, girl. I have everything you need.” Stephanie patted the overnight bag. “The housekeeper had it ready. She sent along some sandwiches too, just in case the food here sucks, which I already know it does.”
“Great.” Becky rushed toward Stephanie, relieved to see a familiar face. “And thanks for driving to Conrad’s.”
“No problem. I had to go there anyway and box up Slim’s
stuff. I’m moving in next week.”
“What do you mean?”
Stephanie shrugged. “I thought Dino would have told you. He’s letting me live there until the place is sold. Also paying me to oversee the gallops. All I have to do is look after Slim’s cat.”
Becky’s stomach gave an odd kick. Dino hadn’t forgotten Stephanie after all. And the arrangements made perfect sense. Slim’s house was empty. Cody needed help. It would be foolish to hire someone to replace Slim when Conrad Racing was headed for the block. And it wasn’t like Dino was sleeping with Stephanie, not any more. Still, he had time to do all the horse-related stuff, cat stuff too, but couldn’t give her more than thirty seconds on the phone—
“What’s wrong?” Stephanie tilted her head, staring with concerned eyes. “Did Martha take a bad turn?”
“Oh, no. She’s stable. Just doesn’t care about anything. The horses are the only things that keep her interest, but everyone says racing is too stressful. A catch twenty-two. I don’t even know what’s best anymore.” Becky’s lower lip quivered, and she clamped her mouth shut.
“Aw, sweetie.” Stephanie thumped the bag on the floor and wrapped her in a hug. “There’s nothing else you can do. Jocelyn and Ted already told me the place would be sold, along with all the horses. That Martha’s giving up her home.”
Stephanie’s hug felt good and Becky didn’t want to move but something nagged at her, and she stepped back, cocking her head. “When were you talking to Ted?”
“About an hour ago,” Stephanie said. “He was in Slim’s guesthouse when I arrived. Dropped by to pick up some horse papers.” She scooped the bag up with her good arm, linking her other around Becky. “Now can I visit Martha? I’ll tell her some horse stories from when Malcolm was racing, and you can relax and have a glass of Beaujolais. I always thought that housekeeper was kind of cold, but she did send some great wine.”
***
“Morning, honey.”
Becky squeezed her eyes shut, didn’t want her dream to end. Dino’s arms, his smell, his voice all seemed so real, and in the dream he didn’t like Stephanie, the reporter, or any other woman. He only loved her.
“I love you too,” she whispered, snuggling closer.
His arms stiffened, and the hospital cot suddenly turned confining. She jerked her eyes open. Dino’s face, his real face, was only inches away, unreadable in the dark. Martha’s shallow breathing huffed from the bed, muted chatter sounded from the hallway, but he was completely still.
“Oh, hi. I was dreaming of Martha,” she whispered, happy he’d somehow shown up but afraid he’d heard her whispered confession. “What time is it?”
“Almost four. I have to go back to the track,” he said. “You and Martha were both sleeping when I arrived. Sorry I was so late. I brought some food. The nurses offered to keep it in their private fridge.”
“What time did you come?”
“Just after midnight. Got busy with a couple of unexpected…issues. What are the doctors saying?”
Becky checked Martha’s sleeping form, keeping her voice low. “She shouldn’t have much stress, but she needs to stay interested. People around, goals, things like that. Anything that makes her feel like she’s contributing.”
“Racing is too stressful?”
Becky nodded.
“What she really wants is to establish Malcolm’s name,” he said. “Bit of a dilemma.”
She nodded again, lightened by his presence. Everything would be okay now. Martha always perked up with Dino; she still wore full makeup when he was around. Becky snuggled into his chest, absorbing the calm beat of his heart, her sense of security. He’d know what to do; he always fixed everything.
“I’m going to be busy at Lone Star,” he said, “but call if you need me. Any time. And give Martha my best. We’ve already had some bloodstock agents express interest in her horses, so they shouldn’t be hard to sell.”
Her breath caught as she absorbed his blunt words. That was his fix? Put the horses on the market? Now that he’d earned his bonus, he was leaving? And while removing stressers was a good thing, it effectively stripped Martha of her sole interest in living.
Her breathing sounded loud, ragged even. But he’d already risen from the cot and was now only a dark silhouette. He was leaving without seeing Martha, without any mention of a return. But horses didn’t exercise in the afternoon. Surely he’d find some time?
Although maybe she’d scared him with her declaration of love. Not fair. He’d caught her groggy with sleep when feelings always ran a little rampant. And she’d drank a lot of wine with Stephanie.
“See you later.” He stooped over the bed, brushing her cheek with a chaste kiss.
“When?” Shit. Somehow that needy word just popped out. “Because Martha will have instructions for you soon,” she added. “You know, about the horses.”
“All right.” He tousled her hair and left.
“Asshole,” she muttered, realizing he’d evaded her question.
“I heard that.” Martha’s voice was cranky with sleep. “And ladies shouldn’t swear.”
“Guess I’m not much of a lady.”
“You seem to be enough for him.”
“What do you mean?” Becky peered through the dark, in the direction of the prone form on the bed.
“He said you could call anytime.” Martha’s huff was definitely indignant. “He doesn’t even let me call during training hours. Now go back to sleep. And tell your young man I don’t appreciate being wakened at four in the morning. The next time he visits, it had better be daylight.”
Becky shifted to the warm spot Dino had left, feeling slightly better. Martha was right. He had said Becky could call him anytime. That had to mean something.
God, she prayed it meant something.
***
“Those kind of flowers make me sneeze.” Martha fluttered a dismissive hand at Ted. “You should know that. Your mother had the same allergy. Give them to the lady in the next room, the nice one with the scarf over her head.”
“Okay,” Ted said, his face turning so red Becky almost felt sorry for him.
He placed the flowers on the chair and clicked open his briefcase. “But first you need to sign some papers. I found a legitimate buyer for the estate. And we can instruct Mr. Anders to start immediate dispersal of the animals.”
“Those animals are horses,” Martha said, her tone petulant. “And my lawyer should be here. There are a few changes I need made to my will.”
“Oh?” Ted looked at Martha, his lips tight. “I have a copy of the will you and Malcolm drew up last year. Seems up to date…what Uncle wanted.”
“What Malcolm wanted was to be remembered as a horseman so perhaps I should keep racing, regardless of my health.” Martha harrumphed. “It’s difficult to decide.”
“We’ll lose this buyer if you keep waffling. Please think about it.” Ted closed his briefcase, his frustrated gaze turning to Becky. “I seem to be the only one worrying about her long-term health.” Grabbing the flowers, he stalked from the room.
“I know what Ted and the doctors think.” Martha’s voice turned pensive. “But I really don’t know what to do.”
Becky dragged her chair closer to the bed. “You don’t have to decide today.”
“I want to keep racing, but Dino will be far away and hiring two new managers is daunting. I simply don’t have the energy.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her words a faint whisper. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Malcolm.”
Becky’s throat thickened. If only Dino could be more helpful. “Malcolm only wanted you happy,” she said. “He wouldn’t want you racing if it wasn’t healthy.”
“Probably not.” Martha gave a glimmer of a smile. “But he was a man. And men crave recognition. It’s a rare one who will step back from the limelight.”
Malcolm is dead. His ego doesn’t matter. But she didn’t want to burst Martha’s bubble of interest so she sat beside her in companionable silence, holding her th
in hand.
***
Dino scowled, snapped his phone shut and looked at Shane. “Bill Taylor’s moving his horses to another trainer. He heard about the steroids. Says he’ll be back after the dust settles.”
“Doesn’t seem fair, boss.” Shane stepped closer to the desk, his face troubled. “Anyone could have stuck those steroids in our fridge.”
Not anyone. Slim. Dino dragged a hand over his jaw. “But I’m the trainer on record. And that’s the way this business works. Shit has to stop somewhere.”
Dino shoved a pile of invoices aside. It’d be good to get away and race in South Texas. He could train some horses at his ranch, cut down on costs, buy a few claimers. Reduce his dependency on fickle owners who yanked their horses at the very worst time.
Even dealing with Martha—one of the best owners in the business—was frustrating. One day she talked of selling, the next she wanted to finish the season. Enough to give a man ulcers. At least she’d helped him earn his ranch, and for that he’d always be grateful. And for meeting Becky, that was another good thing.
“Hey, Dino.” Jimmy Jones paused in the doorway, twirling his aluminum cane. “Just wanted to thank you again. That Chippy is a real nice horse. Feeling good too. Even bucked a bit this morning.”
“Jesus, Jimmy.” Dino jerked forward. The last thing he wanted was for the jock to hurt himself. “You’re only supposed to be trotting. Your leg—”
“Is perfect.” Jimmy gestured with shades of his former cockiness. “Hell, I’m soon ready to win races again. Body is strengthening. Just getting out in the fresh air with the horses is good.”
Jimmy did look well. He no longer leaned on his cane but instead waved it in the air as he regaled Shane and Dino with Chippy’s latest antics. “Yeah, well, thanks again,” he said as he pumped Dino’s hand. “I was dying cut off from the track. The worst thing about getting hurt is giving up the horse life.”
He limped from the room and yelled a ribald comment to someone in the aisle.
Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) Page 103