by Carol Rose
"Yes, I do," Nora replied instantly.
Mrs. Turner smiled a warm, genuine expression that lit up her eyes. "They aren't worth our time."
"No."
"My story is long in the past. But your situation has reminded me so much of it." Mrs. Turner leaned forward, her tone suddenly decisive. "You can't allow yourself to be bullied any longer by Wilma Worthington and Shirley Burton, you know. They'll never leave you alone until you make them respect you."
"How?" Nora asked. "I thought if I went on with my life and stayed out of trouble-"
She stopped, realizing how that must sound. With Bret's help, she'd ended up escalating the scandal. “I thought things would die down," she finished painfully.
Mrs. Turner shook her head, leaned forward, and put a hand on Nora's where it rested in her lap. "What you must do now is stand up to them. Use your strong points to command their respect."
"My strong points?"
"Your riding." She straightened in her chair, a small triumphant smile playing on her lips. "I remember the pictures of you in the Wichita Falls paper when you won blue ribbons at your riding competitions."
"Just pony club events."
"Regardless. Your riding and your qualifications to teach are the only things that are anybody's business."
"That's right," Nora agreed, still stunned by support from such unexpected quarters.
"I don't care if you had affairs with all of Richie Worthington's bosses. It's your life to run."
"Well, yes," faltered Nora, "but I didn't-"
"Of course not. But whether you did or didn't isn't the most important thing," Sara Turner waved her protest aside. "I've thought about this and I think I have just the thing."
Nora looked at her in fascination. "You have?"
"Yes. You need to enter the Association Race next week."
"What?" That was the last thing Nora had expected to hear. Sure, she'd considered entering the race, just to give Bret a run for his money. He needed to be taken down several notches.
"Yes, my dear." The older woman's face was eager. ''I'm quite serious. I think it would be very effective."
"Why?"
"Now don't tell me that you can't give those old cowboys some competition," Mrs. Turner chided.
"Of course I could," Nora acknowledged slowly. "What better way to demonstrate your riding ability to a bunch of horse people than winning their annual race?" she demanded triumphantly.
"I-I'm not a member of the Association."
"That's not a problem," Mrs. Turner replied promptly. ''I'll sponsor you."
"That...that would be wonderful of you."
"Nonsense." The older woman looked at her expectantly. "Well, will you do it?"
"Bret's won for the last ten years," Nora blurted out.
Mrs. Turner was silent for a moment before she shrugged. "Every race is a new race."
Nora hesitated. The thought of beating him was irresistible. What if she could win both the race and the land? She'd steal his local legend status, his title and his damned landing strip in one sweep. He deserved to be beaten in more than just the race. How much more despicable could a man be than to make love to a woman while plotting to steal her dream?
Rage and hurt rose up in Nora. He had to be punished.
"You know, my dear," Mrs. Turner broke into her thoughts. "You'll have to work out your private life yourself. I can't pretend any special knowledge in that arena. Bret Maddock's always been a handful."
She rose from her seat. "Still, he's not a bad boy. If you do decide to enter the race, he'll play fair."
He doesn't play fair! Nora's bruised heart protested.
"You think it over, my dear," Sara Turner said, as she turned to go, "and let me know."
Nora stood up slowly, watching her unexpected benefactress leave. Why not race Chessie against Bret? Winning would insure that Bret would never want to bed her again, would most likely never even talk to her. And she could take on the whole town as well.
''I'll do it," Nora declared decisively. "And I'm very grateful for your help."
Mrs. Turner Turned hack, clasping Nora's hand in hers. "That's my girl. I knew you had the courage."
******
Chapter Ten
A tightening line of tension played along Nora's nerves. This was it, D-day. Soon, she'd walk into the crowd outside and challenge Bret for the championship.
In the week since their discovery in the mud, he'd called and come by the house countless times. Each time she'd refused to talk to him, knowing he'd only tell her more lies.
Still, he kept stopping by.
"Steady, girl." Nora ran the currycomb over Chessie's coat. The mare huffed a breath through her nostrils as if trying to assimilate the new smells of a strange stall. The barn was empty, the other racers having already left. Outside, the noise of the Association Chaparral Playday could be heard through the stable's open doors.
Maybe if she hadn't been fool enough to let him get close to her heart, she wouldn't be suffering now. How could she have let herself fall in love with such a snake?
So much depended on her winning the race today. She wanted to rub his face in the dirt, to hurt him as much as he'd hurt her. At this point, the scandal and the gossip mattered very little.
Nora smoothed Chessie one last time, reaching for the comb to straighten her mane. Bret had done her greater harm than Richard ever could. He'd lured her to laugh, had made her long for his love. Yet, all his admonitions to take chances had been offered for devious reasons. He'd even lied about loving her.
Nora pushed the thought away, unable to allow herself doubt at this point. She had to go forward, had to carve out a life for herself. Unsure of whether she would stay in Stoneburg or leave for a more hospitable place, all she knew now was that she had to beat Bret.
Intent on her methodical preparations for the race, she didn't hear her name until it was repeated directly behind her.
"Nora!"
She spun around and saw Richard in the open stall door.
"My God, Nora, what are you doing here?"
Surprised to see him, she responded without thinking, "Getting ready to race."
"Do you think that's a good idea?" He stepped forward, crowding Chessie, who danced sideways. "With all the talk?"
Nora grasped her halter. "Step back, Richard."
Speaking in a low tone, she gentled the mare. She had no idea why Richard was back in town. He'd never cared about the Association's activities any more than its annual barbecues.
Was he back today to create another scene in front of everyone? The memory of their last meeting was still fresh in her mind. After his behavior at the benefit, she was easily able to believe the worst of him. But she couldn't let Richard disturb her concentration now. It would take all her focus to win the race ahead.
''I'm really busy now, Richard," Nora said curtly, reaching for Chessie's bridle from the hook. Her mind turned back to the race. Should she have walked the course again? Maybe a fourth time would have revealed some hidden quirk to the terrain.
"I guess you're surprised to see me back in town so soon," Richard said, not taking her hint.
She glanced up briefly. "Ah...yes, I guess so."
Did Bret know yet that she was challenging him? Slipping the bridle over Chessie's head, Nora forced her thoughts away from Bret.
"You know better than anyone that work keeps me pretty busy this time of year." Richard laughed self-importantly. "Well, it keeps me busy all the time."
"Yes, I know," she jumped in, cutting his monologue short. "Could we talk later, Richard? Chessie and I need to get ready."
He glanced at the horse. "She looks fine. Actually, I have something very important to say. Something you'll want to hear."
Quelling the bulk of her impatience, Nora turned to him. "Well, tell me then and let me get back to work."
"Okay," he said, looking momentarily disconcerted. "I've been fired."
"Oh." For the life of her, Nora could
n't think of anything to say. Cheering would have been too crass, but condolences were beyond her. She fell silent, still getting Chessie ready.
"It was completely unfair," he declared, apparently unaware of her lack of interest. "Benson acted on a trumped-up sexual harassment charge. They couldn't even be more original than that! It's a trendy issue."
He laughed sarcastically. "But I know the real reason. It had nothing to do with groping some secretary. I was doing too well, showing Benson up with the big management. So he just fired me!"
Nora would have bet that several secretaries were relieved to see Richard go. She felt a momentary flash of disgust at herself for not recognizing his true character years before. Had he always been such a self-absorbed bore? At least, Bret had the advantage of being charming.
"That's too bad," Nora said, trying to soothe Richard just enough to get rid of him. "Well, maybe we'll have time to talk about it later."
"But don't you understand?" He stood in the stall opening his face impatient. "Don't you see what this means to us?"
"Us?" Nora repeated, thunderstruck. "What us?"
''I'm trying to tell you that I made a mistake when I broke it off." He stepped forward again, sending Chessie sidling away.
"Richard, you have to stay out of the stall." Nora moved to the doorway, pushing him in front of her. He apparently wasn't going away before he had his say.
He allowed her to urge him back into the walkway, taking the opportunity to catch her hand in his. "I want us to put all this behind us. Start fresh somewhere else. I’ll find another job, maybe in a different state. And you can join me. It'll be just like old times." Richard smiled down at her fondly.
Nora stared at him, trying to understand how any individual could so completely create a false reality in his own mind. He needed her now, so she was supposed to wipe out the past four months as if they'd never happened?
"I know you're probably worried that I'll hold your fling with Bret Maddock against you, but I'm sure I'll be able to get over it," he said magnanimously.
Nora jerked her hand away. "You don't need to take the trouble, because I'm not interested."
"Now, Nora," he chided. "Don't fib. The whole town knows you've been rolling in the dirt with that cowboy."
"Rolling in the mud," she corrected furiously. "And I mean that I'm not interested in you!"
"Nora. Sweetheart." Richard tried to take her hand again but she evaded him. "You don't mean that. I know you're hurt. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did about that incident with Benson. But I was crazed with jealousy. To think the woman I loved and my boss...well, you'd both been drinking...."
"I had not been drinking," Nora nearly shouted. "And you knew I didn't do anything to make him paw me like that. You knew! But I'd inadvertently become a liability to your career, so you dumped me!"
"No!"
"Yes," she said scathingly, "and now that you've fallen off the fast track, you think I'll let you back in my life. Well, you're wrong. I just want you to go away."
"Nora, you can't be serious. I need you," he declared, suddenly tearful.
She stared at him, the peculiar irony of the situation almost making her smile. If Richard weren't so adept at manipulating people, she might have believed his emotion.
"Well, I don't need you." Nora turned on her heel. She hoisted the riding saddle from its stand, shutting out Richard's sputtering half-sentences.
She couldn't let him distract her anymore. The race had to be the only thing in her mind. She felt as if she were on the verge of the biggest moment in her life. In the next half hour, she'd prove her riding ability and get her revenge against Bret.
"Nora!" Richard implored from the walkway outside the stall.
"Go away." Her hands went through each task methodically.
"You're distracted," Richard said reluctantly. "We'll talk later."
"Whatever." She didn't look up as he left, making a mental note to be very busy in the next few days. He might be convinced there was more to talk about, but she had nothing more to say.
Tightening the last strap, Nora straightened as Richard's retreating steps echoed in the stables. She drew in a deep breath, feeling clean and resolved. She might still have a splintered heart over Bret, but at least Richard was well and truly out of her life.
Taking Chessie's reins in hand, she led the mare out of the stall and through the walkway to the outdoors. Each step took them closer to the moment of truth. This was her opportunity to show the people of Stoneburg that she could ride with the best and face down the cheap scandalmongers.
She picked up her riding helmet and fastened the strap under her chin.
Come hell or high water, she was determined to win. If Stoneburg wanted to attribute a scarlet past to her, let them. She was here to teach riding, dammit. And for that, she was well equipped.
I love you, Bret's words echoed in her head. Nora tried to ignore the tightening in her stomach.
All her life, she'd known that love was bought at a price. One she couldn't pay.
Nora stepped out into the sunshine, registering its warmth through her white cotton shirt. She'd dressed to please herself today, snug jeans tucked into riding boots. She might not look like Annie Oakley, but she was determined to beat the pants off every man in the race.
Winning would insure that Bret would never again smile at her with that crooked, charming grin. He'd never chase her, never try to pull her close and kiss her silly. In taking his title, she knew she'd be shaming him in front of the whole county. He'd never want to bed her again.
As she walked toward the starting line, she tried to be eager for that moment.
Outside the barn, the whole town seemed to be clustered around the starting post. Nora walked Chessie forward, knowing that most of these people weren't aware of her late entry into the race. She ignored the curious looks and turned toward the starting line.
Keeping her steps steady, she moved through the crowd, meeting the stares without expression. Walking the race course three times in the last few days had burned it into her memory.
She knew every small stone, every hillock that might make Chessie stumble.
The course spread out over the Smith's back pasture, a straight line starting outside the barn and heading down to a tall, beribboned pole erected at the end of the pasture. The riders had to grab a ribbon as they rounded the pole. The first rider to return to the start line, ribbon in hand, won the race.
Slowly, Nora walked through the crowd, making her way to the starting line. Noise seemed to ripple around her, hissing, half-quiet comments. She felt the conjecture, sensed the surprise and brushed aside the accompanying flutter of anxiety it brought to her stomach.
A makeshift platform, bales of hay stacked together, had been created next to the start line. An older man she didn't recognize stood on the platform, holding a microphone.
Beyond the platform, several mounted riders were lined up waiting for the start.
Nora's heart thundered as she caught a glimpse of Bret, his dark hair covered by a cowboy hat.
"I have an announcement to make," the man with the microphone called out. "We have a late entry in this race-Miss Nora Hampton, riding her mare, Chessie."
A muffed chuckle followed his words as a surprised murmur ran through the crowd.
Bret swiveled in her direction, astonishment on his face.
Nora moved forward, clamping her teeth together with determination. Stopping Chessie beside the hay platform, she swung up into the saddle.
There were ten racers in all, drawn more by the prestige of winning than by the modest cash prize. Nora urged Chessie forward, talking softly to the mare as she brought her into line.
She could feel Bret's eyes on her, but she refused to look his way.
Patting Chessie, Nora took a deep breath to steady herself as the announcer began to describe the race.
"You didn't tell me you were going to race." Bret leaned over to say in a low voice, as the man with the microp
hone talked.
"No, I didn't." She couldn't meet his eyes and keep her equilibrium, so Nora stared over Chessie’s ears.
"Hey, Bret!" A male voice from the crowd called out. "How about the loser has to do the winner a personal favor?"
The nearest bystanders laughed, the innuendo obvious with the gossip running rampant about them. Nora clenched her jaw.
"Bret wouldn't want nothin' from those cowboys," another man yelled amid the hooting laughter drawn by the first remark.
"Let's get this race started," the announcer cut into the raucousness. "Racers, on your mark. Get ready."
Next to her, Bret and the other riders seemed to tense.
Nora balanced the reins in her hands, every muscle taut as she crouched in the saddle. "Let's show them, Chessie," she murmured low. "Let's make them eat dirt and die."
Crack! The starting pistol sounded.
With a bound, they left the starting line. Nora leaned forward, balancing her weight over Chessie's forelegs. They flew over the ground, the thunder of the horse's hooves around them.
From the first, Bret was out in front. Nora felt Chessie straining forward, the spirit of competition driving the mare to overtake Bret's stallion and leave the other horses behind.
Nora held Chessie back, reining her in with the slightest pressure. They had to hold steady now, keeping just back of Bret until the first fourth of the course was behind them. Chessie was the swiftest horse Nora had ever ridden, but they needed to make their move at just the right moment.
Bret rode ahead of her, his powerful back tensed and forward, every fiber of him thrown into winning. The shock in his face had said it all. Never had it occurred to him that she might be a serious challenge.
The thought spurred Nora on and she loosened the reins, letting Chessie take the bit more firmly. The mare gradually gained on General, her strong stride eating up the distance.
The beribboned pole stood ahead. Nora measured the yards, knowing they had to gain on Bret now or lose the race.
Tightening her heels against Chessie's flanks, she gave the mare her head.