by J. P. Oliver
“Is there a point to this, Sherry?” I asked, forcing a bored tone into my voice.
“I’m wondering if I should tell Whitt. You know Maitland’s reputation. There’s a good chance he could back out of the deal Whitt’s working on.”
I took my pitchfork back in hand, a clear signal this conversation was over as far as I was concerned. But it was Sherry Rowland, so she might need an additional hint.
“I think you should do whatever you think is best, Sherry, but in the meantime, I have work to get done. Have a nice day.”
I went back to picking the manure out of the stall and tossing it into the wheelbarrow until I was sure she had left the barn and continued on to her own house. At least, I hoped that’s where she was headed. A discouraged sigh left me, and I leaned against the wall.
I was so close to realizing my dream, but if any portion of what she’d shared was true, staying here any longer might screw up everything I wanted and what Whitt had worked to achieve as well. I still didn’t think Maitland would be so homophobic in this day and age, but could I really afford to take the chance and ruin everything Whitt had busted his ass to accomplish?
Whitt
I had tossed and turned all night long, wanting like hell to cross the house and have it out with Reece, and demand to know if there was any truth to everything I’d been told. But I hung back. I wasn’t going to humiliate myself.
I needed to do what I’d suggested. Once these deadlines were past and the tension eased, we’d talk, work things out.
So, I tried to play it cool when I arrived at the barn for my morning ride. Bondage and Trixie were both out in cross ties. Reece already had the big mare saddled and was knocking the dust off my gelding.
“I can do that,” I said turning to the grooming caddy to grab a brush.
“I got this. Grab his tack. I thought we’d make a round through this older part of the hunt territory. Pick up the pace some so you can get a better feel for what you’ll be doing Sunday.”
All this was delivered without him ever once looking at me. I couldn’t help the stab of hurt that shot through me. I put the brush back, opened my mouth to demand we talk, but shut it again. If this was the way he wanted to play it, fine. I would go along with it even if it made my heart ache. No one had ever had the power to hurt me the way Reece had managed in such a short time. I had never let anyone get that close. Until now.
The ride was an hour and a half of torture, at least from a personal perspective. I wasn’t the loner I had been just a short time ago, and the man pushing me away was the very one responsible for bringing me out of that shell. Yet Reece was cool and business-like. Could he really turn off his feelings that fast? I followed his lead and fell into my former comfort zone of isolation. It wasn’t comfortable anymore. Being with Reece had changed me, but I wasn’t sure how to make him see that.
His remoteness said more clearly than any words that all I was to him was his boss. For a little while I had actually felt human. I had laughed and loved, but when it came right down to it, making money was apparently the only thing at which I excelled.
“Keep your mind on what you’re doing, Whitt!” Reece snapped. “You have to keep a safe distance between horses at all times. You never know when you’re in the hunt field when you will have to ask your horse to stop on a dime.”
I had been so lost in my own misery, I had nearly let Bondage rear-end Trixie. It was only the horse’s experience that had saved me.
“Sorry.”
“Apologies aren’t going to cut it if you injure another horse or run over a hound.”
“I said I was fucking sorry,” I snapped. “I’ll pay more attention.”
Silence stretched between us, long and tense. We had been riding hard and steam rose from our mounts. There was enough of a chill in the air this morning that our breaths came out in small puffs of mist too. Maybe this was it. Maybe we would finally have it out and clear the air so we could move on.
Reece’s jaw was hard, his expression even more remote, and my hope died. “You lead. Most of the time you’ll be following other people, but you should be confident you can put your horse at a fence without someone going first.”
So that was it. He was the teacher. I was the client. There was nothing else.
For the remainder of the ride, I forced myself to concentrate only on my horse and what I was doing. Reece occasionally made suggestions, and I followed them without comment. As we walked the last quarter mile back to the barn, I kept my face slightly averted, studying the pastures and the changing leaves on the trees. Anything that would keep Reece from seeing the devastation I wasn’t sure I could hold back.
For fuck’s sake, I was a businessman who negotiated world-class business deals that had made me millions of dollars, but when it came to figuring my way out of this morass, I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t that I had no clue what it would take.
I just couldn’t do it.
Reece was the first one to speak when we got back to the barn. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to push our afternoon lesson back about an hour. With Ricky off today, my schedule’s pretty tight.”
I gave him a cool look over Bondage’s back as I loosened the girth. “I need to cancel this afternoon anyway. I have some phone calls and a teleconference scheduled.”
I’m not sure what I had hoped to see in his expression. Regret? Disappointment? What I saw was relief, and it was like a knife going through my chest.
21
Reece
The figures in front of me in the account ledger for the barn kept blurring. Tired, I tried to convince myself as I rubbed at my eyes for the millionth time. I knew the truth, though. I was miserable. Whitt seemed to be miserable too.
The thought nagged at me that maybe if I told him how much I cared, he would suddenly realize how stupid it was to keep hiding what we felt for each other. For fuck’s sake. This was the twenty-first century. Gay men didn’t need to hide in the closet. They got married, had families.
I wanted that too, but it couldn’t happen as long as the man I loved was convinced our relationship needed to be secret.
I looked at the column of figures, totaled them one more time, and wrote the amount in the ledger. The figures were a pittance compared to the amounts Whitt dealt with every day, but they represented the money he had entrusted me to handle, and I wanted him to be able to see I was a good custodian of that money.
I wanted him to see that I could be trusted with our relationship, that I wouldn’t embarrass him, that it was safe to let the world see we were together, a couple.
Leaning back in my chair with a sigh, I glanced at my watch. Almost five. Surely by now he had finished whatever business he had. We could talk. Clear the air. Resolved, I closed everything up in the barn, taking a moment to enjoy the sound of the horses in their stalls munching on their hay, the sound occasionally interspersed by the stomp of a hoof or the swish of a tail.
Enough. I turned off the lights and walked to the house. The light was still on in his office. Through the panes of the French doors, I watched him at his desk, his laptop in front of him. He worked harder than almost anyone I knew. It was easy to see why his doctor had wanted him to find a way to relax. I ached to be able to rub the tension from his shoulders.
I walked around back and came in through the kitchen. After kicking off my boots, I looked at Ripper. “I need you to stay here for a bit, buddy. I want to surprise Whitt, and you’re way too obvious of a vanguard.”
I tossed him a bone to chew on and shut the mudroom door before padding through the house to Reece’s office.
The door was ajar, and light bled out into the dimly lit hallway. For the first time in several days, I felt a relaxed smile curve my lips. Maybe the crack he’d left in the door was his way of letting me know he was ready to talk. As I approached his office, the quiet of the house made Whitt’s conversation easy to hear.
“You know I will never let my personal life interfere with business,” he was s
aying to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “Business has always come first.”
I backed away until I could no longer hear him, sitting silently on the bottom step of the curving staircase leading to his bedroom, the place where we had made love.
I was fooling myself. The idea that I could change him, that we could be a couple and make a life together was nothing more than a fantasy. Whitt would do exactly as he had told the person on the phone. He would always put business first so that there would never be any balance in his life.
It wasn’t really even an issue of being open about being gay. It was a matter of priorities.
And I wasn’t it. Nobody was it. Except maybe the current client.
I couldn’t live like that. I wanted more out of life. I needed more than that. Affection. Kindness. Attention. Time. All things that Whitt couldn’t give me.
Whitt was ready to ride with Maitland on Sunday if he chose to do so. I would make sure he had a way to make that happen, but I wouldn’t be there. My job was done. I had taught him to ride, and it was time to go. For my own sanity, I didn’t have a choice.
I walked up the stairs, tossed my belongings into my duffel bag, and padded back down. For a heartbeat, I hesitated outside Whitt’s office. He was still on the phone, discussing pension plan rollovers or some such thing. Money. It all came back to that. He had it and pursued more. I needed it, but not at this price. I walked on.
Ripper seemed happy to see me, although with a bone in his mouth, his greeting was more of a playful growl. I pulled my boots back on and snapped my fingers.
“Come on, buddy. Bring your bone with you.”
In less than an hour, I had loaded Satin and Mac along with my tack. I left the custom-tailored boots and coat behind and headed to Steffy’s farm. I wish I could say she was surprised by my call, but I heard in the tone of her voice that she had expected it.
“I’ll get a couple stalls ready for Mac and Satin.”
“I’ll sleep in the barn,” I told her.
“Absolutely not. You know this house is as big as a freaking hotel. Get your horses settled and get your ass in my kitchen. I bet you haven’t even had dinner yet.”
“Not exactly hungry,” I told her.
“We’ll see about that.”
She was waiting for me at the barn, as though she didn’t trust me to come to the house. That was all right because the hug she gave me when I stepped out of the truck was just bone-crushing enough to make me bury my face in her hair.
“If I could love a girl, Steffy,” I muttered in her ear, “you would be the one for me.”
She hugged me tighter. “It’s going to be okay, Reece.”
Quickly and quietly, we worked together getting my horses off the trailer and settled in roomy box stalls at the far end of her barn. The other horses had their heads poked over the tops of their stall doors, watching curiously. We stood near the entrance while I reassured myself that Satin was all right. Having Mac in the stall next door seemed to calm her.
I glanced at Steffy. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was studying me critically. “You are planning on taking that mare to Maysburg Saturday, right?”
Neither my heart nor my head was in it.
“Reece!” Steffy glared at me. “Don’t let him fuck with your dream. This is the culmination of everything you’ve busted your ass to achieve. I will not let you throw it away.”
For about the fifth time since I’d gotten to her place, I felt my phone vibrate. For also the fifth time, I ignored it.
“I’m sure everything will look better in the morning.”
“Everything will look better once you have some of my chicken and dumplings.” She grabbed my arm. “Come on. Food, a stiff drink, and a good night’s sleep. Then tomorrow, Steffy Burke, coach and trainer par excellence, will ensure that you are ready to beat the shit out of Jerky and all the rest of the competition Saturday.”
I took a deep breath and managed a smile.
Whitt
Where the fuck was he? I left my office to find the rest of the house still dark. The barn was dark too. I called but didn’t get an answer. Same thing when I texted. Damn. Now was not the time for him to get pissy. On the off-chance he was holed up in his room, I took the stairs two at a time, flicking on the light. No Reece. Then my roaming gaze took in the bareness of the bureau. I crossed the room to the bathroom and flicked the light switch. No toiletries. A check of the closet showed it was equally bare.
What the hell?
I jogged to the barn. No truck or trailer out front. Already knowing what I would find, I turned the light on. Bondage and Trixie poked their heads over their stall doors and nickered, but there was no sign of Mac or Satin.
Pain tightened my throat, nearly as suffocating as what had driven me to call an ambulance. I fought the panic and opened the door to Reece’s office. The coat I had ordered for him, hung on a hook on the wall, still covered in plastic. Beneath it, in their bags, were the custom boots.
“God damn it,” I ground out. I walked over to his desk. An account ledger was open there, the column of figures written in a neat hand and totaled at the bottom. I ran my finger over them and the entries that identified what they were. Who even kept books this way anymore?
I swallowed on another wave of pain. Reece did.
But he was gone, just as everyone had warned me. After sitting in his chair, I pulled out my phone and checked my calls and messages. No response to my texts, no calls I might have missed. Picking up the ledger, I threw it at the coat hanging on the wall.
It didn’t help the pain.
I had wanted him to be different. I hadn’t wanted to believe the warnings that he was unreliable. In ignoring it all, I had gone against everything that had helped me amass a fortune. I had refused to believe the evidence that was right there in front of me. With a harsh laugh, I stared around the room. Well, there was no ignoring it now. Reece had lived up to everything Sherry had warned me about and done exactly what Jordy Edgerton had told me would occur.
When I needed him most, Reece was gone.
And I was who I had always been—the brilliant billionaire banker who had something missing, something that made me unloved and unlovable.
“Fuck this!” I snarled. I turned the lights off and stalked back to the house. I had work I could do. There was always work I could do.
22
Reece
Steffy’s barn was a hive of activity as mine had never been. In addition to the kids who would be there in the afternoon, she had a lot of adult clients who must have been working second or third shift because several of them were there bright and early the next morning.
“Hey, Reece,” she called from the other end of the barn. “Can I use Mac for lessons while you’re here? My old quarter horse’s arthritis is acting up this morning.”
“No problem.” I was in picking out his stall and glanced over at where he was peacefully munching hay. “Sorry, buddy, looks like you’re getting drafted.”
Mac gave me the stink eye when I clipped a lead to his halter and led him from the stall. I ended up assisting Steffy throughout the morning, but it had an unexpected side effect. I was able to keep my mind off Whitt.
“You owe me,” I told her during the midst of the afterschool rush. She had a number of students who were going to the Maysburg show and had scheduled extra lessons this week.
“I’ll give you and Satin a lesson after we’re done here. We can turn on the lights in the ring.”
“Deal.” Steffy had given up life on the show circuit, but she had a wealth of experience I could tap and probably should have a lot earlier. I had been so determined to do everything on my own and so wrapped up in Whitt, I had ignored what should have been right in front of my face. Well the opportunity was there now.
Once she had the last student of the day in the ring, I got Satin out and ready to ride. I took the mare around the perimeter of the small cross-country course Steffy had built so that Satin could
relax and get her mind on her work.
Unfortunately, it opened the door for thoughts of Whitt to intrude. He had tried to call me again today. Several times. I ignored him.
“Come on, Wilder!” she called from the ring. “The lights are on and I’m waiting on you.”
We talked about the trouble I was having with triple combinations, so Steffy set one up. “Let me see you go through this, so I can get a handle on what might be going on.”
After three times through it—only one time clean—she called me into the middle of the ring. “All right, I know this is going to piss you off, but I think the problem is you, not this wonderful mare.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re neglecting a couple of basics that you would chew out any of your own students about. It’s a triple, Reece. You’ve got to sit back because you’ve only got a split second to let Satin know what you want to do with that next fence. Sit back and get your chin up. That’s exactly what you did the one time you went clean. The time you took the front rail of the oxer down, you had let your eyes drop. The tick on the vertical was because you were on her neck.”
I felt like an idiot. She was right. I knew all this stuff.
“Let me have another go at it, and then let’s call it a night. I don’t want to overwork her.”
She patted Satin’s neck and gave a squeeze to my thigh. “You two are dynamite together, Reece. Help her and she’ll help you.”
This time though, I concentrated on the basics, things I had known and taught for years, and they worked. As soon as we were through, I vaulted off Satin’s back and gave her a soft pat on the neck. “Good girl.”
Steffy walked alongside us. “Okay, so now you need to let me know what’s got you all fucked up. You arrive here last night looking like your world has ended, and your concentration has been mostly shitty this whole session.”