Ride a Dark Horse

by Laura Moore

Sam Waters was waiting by the in-gate. “Tough break, Cassie. You’ll get ’em Friday.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” Cassie replied, grateful for her old friend’s support. Right now she was feeling about as resilient and self-confident as a wet noodle.

  Alex left them, intending to head off Thompson and the twins before they saw Cassie in her present condition. He and Cassie had agreed there was no sense in scaring them. With Cassie still plastered in mud, the nastiness of her spill was all too obvious. After she’d had time to recover and rest, Cassie could meet them later for dinner and some quiet relaxation.

  Cassie was just as glad to be spared the countless questions the sight of her ruined riding clothes would raise. Her muscles were screaming, and the rest of her body felt like it was one huge punching bag, and the reigning world champion had just finished a pummeling session with her.

  “Take her back to the motel, Caleb,” Hank suggested quietly as Alex kissed his sister good-bye. “We’ll handle things on this end for the rest of the afternoon. If this damn rain lets up, I’ll go out and longe Orion again. Calm him down a bit.”

  Caleb nodded. “Thanks, Hank. I’d like to make sure she’s really okay. I’ll come back and pick you up about six, we can grab some dinner then.”

  30

  “Wait. Let me get this straight. Yesterday you fell. Today, your shoulder and side still look like a really big, really ugly abstract painting, and you want to go and school both Orion and Limelight over some fences?” His tone was incredulous.

  Cassie ground her teeth in frustration. She loved Caleb so much. But she was going to go nuts if he kept this up. He was acting worse than a mother hen.

  She spoke carefully, as if she were trying to explain quantum mechanics to Jamie. “Friday is the Grand Prix qualifier. I’ve got to get back on and ride before then. Caleb, this is my job. This is what I do.” She turned imploringly to the older man. “Hank, help me out on this, please.”

  “Hate to say it, Caleb, but she’s got a point. She’ll be even stiffer if she waits ’til tomorrow or Friday to ride.”

  “Hank, have you seen what her shoulders and ribs look like?”

  “I only fell and bruised myself,” she muttered defensively.

  Hank looked at Caleb, then at Cassie, concern and understanding at war inside him. Finally he replied heavily. “I know it’s no worse than some really bad bruising, but Cassie, it’s only fair I should warn you, I’m going to watch you like a hawk out there. Nothing is worth your seriously injuring yourself.”

  “I realize that, Hank.” Her voice was quiet. “I’ve got two small children who need me. I don’t take risks unnecessarily. But this sport, like a lot of things in life, has its dangers. You just can’t shy away from them.”

  Caleb stared at her bent head, filled with a sense of helpless frustration. What could he say? He knew she was right. And the hell of it was, if he refused her this, then he was denying her the right to do something she truly loved and excelled at. It would be demeaning, too. Cassie’s courage was one of the many qualities he admired and respected in her. He couldn’t love her, then turn around and ride roughshod when she displayed that courage. He realized, too, that if the shoe were on the other foot, he’d go out and prepare just as thoroughly for Friday’s class. But it wasn’t, and the memory of her fall still had him breaking out into a cold sweat.

  She’d made it.

  It hadn’t been pretty. Down right ugly in fact, but she’d managed to squeak by. She’d ridden in the Grand Prix qualifier today and done well enough to go on. The day’s qualifying event had been downright wicked. What was scarier was that she knew it was just the appetizer. Sunday’s course would require even greater skill and finesse. Still bruised and sore from her spill earlier in the week, she was feeling pretty low on both.

  Cassie had ridden the course twice, first on Orion, then on top of Limelight. With Orion, she’d felt unnaturally tense, unable to get in the groove. That flow athletes often find during their best performances was noticeably absent. Cassie’s round had been so rocky she’d almost blown it completely when they’d come up against that triple combination. This time, however, Orion had saved her from herself. Finding the right spot and jumping easily, smoothly. One, two, three.

  But Orion hadn’t been able to help her with her next blunder. It had been a stupid mistake, holding him back, freezing up, until he had gotten way too close to the watermill jump. Unable to get the height, Orion’s front hooves had smashed into the poles, knocking them down.

  Cassie knew she was entirely to blame. She hadn’t listened to her horse, she hadn’t believed in him. And they’d paid for it. It cost them seven faults, four faults for the knockdown and an additional three points as a time penalty. Another mistake she could claim: She’d stupidly ruthlessly held Orion back, slowing his pace until they were going about as fast as that traffic jam back there on Route 27.

  Things had started off marginally better with Limelight, at least until they came up against the second of the two big water jumps on the course. Like many horses in the class, Limelight wasn’t able to make the distance over that fourteen-foot pool of water. He landed early, hitting the water thoroughly rattled when forced to scramble for his footing. Their pace, fine up until that point, simply fizzled out, and they’d headed into the next jump moving far too slowly. With his smaller frame, Limelight just didn’t have the kind of awesome power to draw on that Orion did. He did his best to clear the fence, but couldn’t get sufficient height. Eight faults for that ride.

  Well, it was done. Both horses had qualified for the Grand Prix this Sunday. It had been pure luck her rounds weren’t as fault riddled as some of the others. She just hoped she’d be able to get her act together by Grand Prix Sunday.

  She wanted to go to this exhibitors’ party like she wanted a root canal, but she’d made a promise to Alex.

  He’d been an angel these past few days. Taking Jamie and Sophie all over the Hamptons. They’d visited everything, from the Montauk Lighthouse to Sag Harbor’s picturesque village and beautiful homes. Thanks to Alex, Jamie and Sophie were having a blast. When they weren’t sightseeing, they were racing around on the beaches, visiting the horses at the Classic, and buying penny candy by the pound. Uncle Alex was keeping them hopping day and night—keeping them far too busy to wonder why their mother winced every time she made a sudden movement.

  And she owed Alex big time for his unexpected discretion. He hadn’t said a word when he found out that she and Caleb were sharing a motel room. She’d been half-expecting him to draw her aside for another one of his lectures on Caleb’s debased character, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d leveled a long look at Caleb, seemingly satisfied when Caleb unflinchingly returned his stare. For that alone she was willing to go to this blasted event.

  After the show, she’d explain to him how it was between her and Caleb. Right now, all she could really think about was tomorrow’s ride.

  That and Caleb’s hands, running lazily over her breasts.

  They were lying on their sides facing each other. Cassie could only lie comfortably on one side, her other one was still too bruised and sore. Caleb had hustled her into bed as soon as they’d reached the motel, claiming that she needed to rest as much as possible before tomorrow’s Grand Prix.

  Caleb’s idea of rest was decidedly deliciously different. “Slim.” His voice was muffled, coming from the valley he was busy exploring, his mouth kissing the warm, fragrant flesh between her breasts.

  “Mmm, what?”

  “Let’s blow this party off. We’ll make up some really good excuse, like you don’t have a thing to wear, and then you and I will sneak off to the beach. It’s warm out tonight, looks like there will be plenty of stars.” He paused, indulging himself, his tongue traveling leisurely along the underside of her breast, bathing it, then tickling it dry with his breath. “I’d like to be with you under all those stars, Slim.”

  She was torn. His suggestion sounded so lovely so romantic. She wanted to say y
es so badly. All this week, they’d been frantically busy at the show. By the end of each day, she’d been so worn out and achy that the most she could summon the energy for was to spend time with Sophie and Jamie. Cassie and Caleb hadn’t even caught a glimpse of that endless expanse of blue.

  She loved the sea, too. Nothing sounded sweeter than sharing a star-filled night on the beach with Caleb’s strong arms wrapped around her. But she didn’t want to leave Alex with a pouting Diana, either. Nobody deserved that.

  Cassie dropped her head, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair. Her lips pressed kisses along his scalp.

  “Would you be willing to accept a compromise? We can go to this party for an hour, then duck out and head for the beach.”

  Caleb was silent, thinking, planning. “I’d be willing to go for that. But, Slim, I’m keeping you on a strict time limit. After sixty minutes, you’re mine.” A blanket, a bottle of champagne, and the engagement ring tucked in his pocket would help make that true.

  Caleb was seething with impatience by the time they arrived at the party. Diana, Alex’s girlfriend, had kept them waiting for more than half an hour when Alex, Cassie, and Caleb had driven over to the house she was staying at for the weekend. Caleb had sat, drumming his fingers against the leg of his pants, while Cassie and Alex made polite conversation with Diana’s host and hostess. Caleb frankly couldn’t be bothered to enter into the conversation. He was way too keyed up, all his thoughts concentrated on the moment when he and Cassie would be alone on the moonlit beach.

  In any case, it was soon all too apparent that Alex Miller didn’t know these people, although they seemed to know him, or of him. The wife, especially. An overdressed, overblown blond, the wife kept making these coy suggestive remarks, until Alex Miller finally leveled her with one cold stare. That killed the small talk quite effectively. The last, seemingly interminable, ten minutes were spent in awkward silence, waiting for Miller’s girlfriend.

  She must have been doing her makeup, Caleb thought to himself when she’d finally made an appearance. She was a looker, all right, he’d give her that. Dark eyes, slashing cheekbones, and a killer body. She’d be right at home on the fashion runway. But Caleb immediately recognized the type of woman wrapped up in that incredible package.

  Diana looked like the kind of person who enjoyed making grand entrances. And also enjoyed keeping others waiting. He was almost sorry for Alex Miller. Almost, until he glanced over and saw the expression on Alex’s face. His face was a study in a boredom. Gauging Miller’s complete and utter indifference, Caleb had a strong hunch Diana could have roared into that living room buck naked, legs wrapped tight around a Harley and Alex wouldn’t have so much as blinked. He wondered if Diana knew she was wasting her energy trying to reel him in.

  The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. The crush of people enormous, flowing out of the brightly lit, beach-front cottage—that quaint term used in the Hamptons for what would be a megamansion anywhere else. The crowd of guests was a mix of top riders, trainers, owners, big money and what Caleb surmised was the Hamptons’ beautiful people.

  It was pretty clear who was who. The horse people looked like anybody, some better some worse. The rich people glittered with that special shine of money. The beautiful people posed, as if presenting their best angles to imaginary paparazzi. Sprinkled among them all, Caleb recognized the stars: movie actors, TV personalities, and some of those people whose faces kept appearing on the covers of magazines. For what reason, Caleb was never quite sure.

  Far off in the corner of one of the rooms, he spied Hank speaking with Sam Waters and began to feel marginally better as if he didn’t have to grab Cassie’s hand and flee the party this very second. Just as he was about to nudge Cassie, a signal to her that he’d seen Hank, he felt her go stiff as a board.

  Surprised, he looked down at her face and saw her eyes were wide with shock. Following the direction of her frozen stare, he picked out from the throng a man with perfect, wavy blond hair who was staring right back at her, a smug smile on his face. Caleb saw him lift a glass in mock salute. Caleb didn’t know who the hell he was, but he knew damn well he didn’t like the condescending smirk the creep was giving Cassie.

  “Who’s the bozo with the smile, Cassie?”

  “What? Oh, he’s no one. Someone I used to know. Let’s go get a drink.” Lacing her fingers around his forearm, Cassie turned Caleb around, practically dragging him in the opposite direction.

  She was flat-out determined to avoid an encounter between Caleb and her ex-fiancé, Brad Gibson.

  Caleb kept catching threads of conversation as he moved through the press of bodies, navigating his way between the shifting clumps of people wearing designer clothes and deeply tanned skin. He snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter following Cassie as she threaded her way in the general direction of Hank and Sam. When a waiter carrying a gigantic silver platter full of hors d’oeuvres stepped in front of him, Caleb was forced to stop, cut off from Cassie’s advancing figure.

  Might as well eat something, he thought to himself, eyeing the contents of the tray. With a smile of thanks, he chose a canapé, popped it into his mouth and reached for another. Abrupt laughter off to his right caused his head to turn.

  It was a group of six or seven people. Among them he recognized Diana as well as the blond guy Cassie said she knew. They were laughing delightedly as a bone-thin, redheaded woman held forth. Like quite a few other people in that group, the woman’s face was slightly flushed. Her voice loud and carrying. It took a few seconds before he realized the woman was describing, in minute and graphic detail, the wonders of colonic irrigation.

  “Why, it’s just changed my life!” The woman finished with a beatific smile.

  Welcome to the Hamptons, Caleb muttered under his breath. Glancing down at the little triangle of toast topped by what he’d previously thought of as pâté, he stepped casually a few feet to the left and dumped it in the tub of a nearby potted plant. Good for the soil, he assured himself as he moved off, intent on catching up with Cassie.

  The sooner I get her out of this circus, the better.

  Caleb didn’t notice the belligerent glare that followed him.

  His dark head brushed hers, his lips whispering for her ears alone, “According to my watch, which is unfailingly accurate, you have exactly eight minutes and forty-nine seconds before I drag you out of here and make love to you under the stars.”

  Only a twitch of her lips gave any indication that she’d heard him. She was staring straight ahead, as if raptly absorbed by Hank’s somewhat lengthy account of the exercise program he’d developed for Five Oaks’s yearlings.

  She relented at last. A grin spread over his face when he felt the tiny nod of her head. Yes! Excitement and anticipation making his heart pound, he continued, his lips still only inches away from her ear, “I’m going to borrow a bottle of champagne from our gracious hosts. There’s enough flowing around here, an entire case wouldn’t be missed. Why don’t you find your brother so we can say good-bye. I’ll meet up with you. Remember, the clock is ticking.”

  Five minutes later he located Alex Miller surprised to find him alone.

  “Hi, did Cassie come over yet?” Caleb asked, his eyes searching the crowd for a glimpse of her. “We were getting ready to leave. Just wanted to say good-bye.” Damn. Where was she? The ladies’ room, perhaps? He could hardly stand it, so impatient was he to be gone, to be alone with her.

  Alex glanced at him sharply. “No, I haven’t seen her since we arrived. I was pretty sure she’d be sticking to you like glue, especially when I noticed who else was here. Let’s take a look for her. Last time I checked, Brad Gibson was in the other room. Drunk off his ass. Acting like an even bigger fool than he already is.”

  Brad Gibson. Had he heard that name before? “Who’s Brad Gibson?” He asked Alex’s back, raising his voice loud enough to be heard.

  Alex shot him a curt look over his shoulder. “Cassie’s
old boyfriend. They were engaged to be married. Pompous fuck. Never liked him.”

  Suddenly it clicked. Gibson was probably the smirking creep he’d noticed at the beginning of the party. Gut clenching, Caleb’s hands fisted at his side. His stride lengthened, keeping pace with Alex Miller’s.

  “Maybe she’s out front. There’s a patio leading out to the lawn.” Together they’d searched all the rooms without catching sight of her.

  They stepped out into the relative quiet of the evening. Daylight had long since faded. Now the night was set aglow, illuminated by brightly colored paper lanterns, citronella flares, and weighted paperbags with candles set inside dotting the perimeter of the patio.

  It was a spectacular evening. A faint ocean breeze, mingling with the sweet scent of Cheyenne privet, blew across the immaculately manicured grounds. Overhead, the first stars winked in the darkened sky.

  Caleb and Alex heard the voices first. Rather, they heard a single voice, a man’s. Loud and aggressive. Recognizing it, Alex was off, his body tense. Taking his cue from Alex, Caleb moved quickly, a cold fury growing inside him as the man’s voice became clearer and clearer.

  They were at the edge of the light. A slight shift in the wind caused the lanterns to sway, casting Cassie and Brad Gibson into greater relief; a scene that should have been pretty turned repugnant. There, on the perfectly mowed lawn was Cassie standing straight, elegantly slender. Imprisoned by Brad Gibson’s restraining hand clamped tight around her forearm, she stood, coolly immobile, a statue. Gibson was leaning forward, invading the space that separated them as he angled his face close to hers, spewing verbal filth. So caught up in his hateful taunts, the two men closing in escaped his notice.

  Even slurred, his words rang clearly in the night. “Saw that fall you took this week. Didn’t do much better yesterday, did you? I guess you’ve lost your touch. Not that you were all that good a rider, anyway. Made me wonder exactly what you’d been hired for down in Virginia.” Gibson laughed, shaking his head, his blond hair hardly moving in the lantern’s light. “Yes, I was definitely puzzled. That is, Cassie, until I saw you with your new boss. It all came back. You know the thing you’re really good at. Lying back and spreading your legs . . .”