Affair of the Heart

by Joan Wolf

  Jay Hamilton, she thought. No other man she had ever met had affected her as he did. How could that be? And what did it mean?

  Underneath her cool sophisticated exterior, Caroline had an intensely feminine nature. Although she would never have dared admit it to any of her liberated friends, Caroline had no hankering after a career. She wanted a man—the man—and marriage and a family. It might be considered a disgraceful ambition for a woman in this day and age, but still, there it was. It was all she had ever wanted, ever since she was a little girl playing with dolls. She held down an interesting job. She did it well, because she was bright, well-educated and conscientious. But she had always regarded it as a temporary thing.

  The career she wanted was marriage. It was that simple old-fashioned desire that accounted for her two abortive engagements. When she had gotten engaged to Cliff her college friends had thought she was crazy to tie herself down so early, but Caroline had known what she was doing. The problem was that Cliff had not been the right man. Nor had Gerald, although the life Gerald offered was the life she wanted: a big old house filled with dogs and (as soon as Caroline could manage it) children, a stable full of horses, beautiful countryside—a life more gracious than that at the Double Diamond but in essence not all that different.

  It was the sort of life Caroline knew she would love, a life close to nature, to earth and grass and animals, a life where people had roots in the land. But the place was no good unless the man was the right one. Caroline had always hoped that one day the man would appear who would provide the complete answer to all her longings. But so far, he hadn’t. So far ...

  At this point in her thoughts Caroline pulled herself up short. Good God, surely she couldn’t seriously be regarding Jay Hamilton in that light? There were sexual sparks between them, all right, but that was all. Marriage was a lot more than sex—although the sex had to be there too. It was a terrible pity, she thought sadly, that she hadn’t reacted to Gerald the way she did to Jay. The mixture of Gerald’s personality and Jay’s sex appeal would have been just perfect.

  She yawned, suddenly sleepy. Oh well, she thought as she got back into bed, no use stewing about it. She was leaving on Wednesday. She’d go to Maine, she thought, and spend some time with her uncle. He always made her feel better. On that thought Caroline fell asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Caroline awoke quite late the following morning. There was no one in the kitchen when she went downstairs, so she made herself some coffee and toast. Then she wandered down to the barn, which was deserted as well. Dusty was in the corral, and Caroline fetched a halter and lead line and brought him in. She curried and brushed him until he gleamed and then tacked him up. Spots and Danny, the spaniel and German shepherd, sat and watched her the whole time she worked. When she mounted and moved out of the yard, they made to follow her. “No, boys,” she said firmly. “I think you’d better stay here.” They looked dejected but obediently flopped back down, and Caroline walked Dusty down the road toward the end of the valley and the mountains.

  She rode for several hours and came back past the big grassy pasture that was a mile or so from the house. It covered several enclosed acres, and the horses were often turned out there to graze. Today, however, there was just one horse and rider inside and a lineup of men on the rails watching. Curious, Caroline rode over to see what was going on.

  The men turned when she arrived and then exchanged glances among themselves. Caroline made the Double Diamond hands distinctly uncomfortable. She was too beautiful, too sophisticated, too out of their ken. They didn’t know how to talk to her. And they sensed Jay’s antagonism as well. So when Caroline offered a friendly smile and asked, “What’s going on?” there was a moment of uneasy silence.

  “Jim’s riding Mahogany,” Frank Adams finally said reluctantly.

  Caroline’s eyes went to the horse in the field. He was a beautiful dark bay stallion with the most gorgeous sweeping tail Caroline had ever seen. His mane was full too, and as he came down the fence line it billowed out behind his high-held head.

  Suddenly he broke away from the fence, veering sharply across the pasture. The man on his back spurred hard and jerked his head around. The stallion galloped a few more paces, stopped, and leaped into the air, corkscrewing. He came down with feet like four steel pistons, and Jim came off, making a beautiful arc through the air onto the lush green grass.

  “Well, that’s the third time for Jim,” one of the men said glumly.

  Mahogany raced around the pasture a little and then, knowing himself the victor, bent his head and began to graze. Jim got up and started once more toward the horse.

  “I’ve never seen him before,” Caroline said reverently. “Does he belong to the ranch?”

  “Sure he belongs to the ranch,” one of the men said a little impatiently. “We just brought him in from the range this morning.”

  Caroline stared at the stallion. He was quite obviously a thoroughbred. “You put a horse like that out on the range?” Her voice was indicative of her incredulity.

  “He’s our stud. All the Double Diamond horses are bred right here on the ranch. Ma’am.”

  “I see,” said Caroline quietly. She had been very impressed by the quality of the ranch horses, and now she understood why they all looked so well-bred.

  “Hi, Caroline!” It was Gary Rogers running along the fence toward her. “Did you come to watch Mahogany?”

  Caroline smiled warmly at the little boy. “Well, I was just on my way home when I saw the crowd. I thought I’d come over to see what was going on.”

  “We’re going to put Mahogany in the big race down in Utah,” Gary volunteered. “Jay said we could, if we can get him to behave.”

  “What race is that?” Caroline asked.

  “At Owen Macdonald’s place,” one of the men volunteered. “Every year he has a race for the local ranch horses.”

  Caroline nodded and looked out at the field again. Mahogany was obviously not pleased with the man on his back and kept cutting away from the fence where the cowboy was trying to hold him. Every time he cut in, the cowboy gave him a jab with his spur. The horse did not appreciate this and would rear or buck.

  “Jim’s got to get that horse to run straight or there won’t be no race,” one of the men muttered. As he spoke the horse swerved in again and the whole episode with the spur was repeated. Once again the horse bucked his rider onto the turf.

  “Well, he’s not going to succeed the way he’s going,” Caroline said tartly. “He’s only making the stallion lose his temper.”

  There was a silence as the men on the fence exchanged glances. “You got any suggestions, ma’am?” one man asked then.

  “Well, he could stop spurring him for starters,” said Caroline.

  “Maybe you’d like to ride the horse?” Frank Adams asked ingenuously.

  Caroline stared at him. The men’s attitude was putting her as out of temper as the stallion. “I couldn’t do a worse job,” she said deliberately.

  Once again the men exchanged a conspiratorial glance. Then Frank stood up and waved his hand. “Hi, Jim!” he shouted. “Come on over here!”

  Caroline watched as the stallion approached their side of the field. He was sweating and throwing his head around, trying to fight the harsh Western bit. Caroline dismounted from Dusty, unceremoniously handed his reins to one of the men, and began to unbuckle her girth.

  “You going to change saddles?” the man asked in astonishment.

  “Yes.” Caroline pulled her saddle off the gray. She gave the men a cool, appraising gray-green stare. “You’re much closer to the horse with this saddle,” she said and climbed into the corral.

  “I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” the man called Jim said nervously. “He’s awfully strong, ma’am.”

  Caroline shrugged. “The ground looks fairly soft. I’ll give it a try.” She began to buckle her girth on the stallion.

  Caroline knew she would never stay in the saddle if Mahog
any started to buck, but she was counting on her own notoriously soothing influence to calm him down. For some reason she had never been able to fathom, horses always found Caroline very relaxing. All kinds of people were always asking her to ride their hunters to calm them down. And, invariably, the nervous horse that had been jiggling along, shying at shadows, turned into a tranquil, easygoing old-timer after Caroline had been in the saddle for fifteen minutes. For some reason, she just got along with a horse. She was not as confident that she would get along with Mahogany as she appeared, however.

  She began by walking him across the field on a diagonal. When she reached the other side she turned him and returned along the same line, this time at a trot. The horse’s ears flicked up and back, wondering at the change of weight on his back and the change of riding style. Caroline posted effortlessly, and the horse’s stride began to lengthen. His head came down a little. He was beginning to relax, and when they reached the fence she turned him along it, still posting. Mahogany’s stride lengthened even more. Caroline held him firmly between her legs and let him lean a little on the bit. Without any signal on her part he moved into a canter. He was on the wrong lead, and she managed to pull him back down to a trot. She nudged her outside foot along his side and sat, and he began to canter again, this time on the right lead. “Good boy!” she said. “Good boy!” The horse’s stride lengthened, and Caroline tightened her inside leg, holding him firmly to the rail. A minute later he swerved, cutting into the center of the field, his powerful hindquarters driving him forward.

  Caroline tightened her right rein and pushed with her leg. The stallion cantered in a circle and she had him back on the rail again.

  She had the reins in a strong grip, and, using her body as a brace, she held him to a hand gallop as they moved along the rail. He cut out again before the turn, and once again Caroline circled him and brought him back. He hadn’t bucked on her, and she managed to run him into the fence and stop him.

  “Had enough?” one of the men called. They were farther down along the fence, standing now on the outside so as not to startle the horse as he went by. Caroline ignored them and crossed her stirrups over in front of her saddle. “Hey, what the hell you think you’re doing?” someone yelled.

  “Getting a better leg grip,” she said, and turned the horse along the rail once more, riding now without irons, her legs tight against the horse’s sides.

  She worked the stallion for half an hour, holding him on the rail with her leg, patiently bringing him back when he broke. He was very strong and got away from her a few times, but she always managed to get him back. The last few times he went around the entire field on the rail, extended to a full run, Caroline forward on his neck without, she knew, a hope in hell of stopping him until he got tired. It was glorious, like flying. She was almost sorry when he did begin to slow down a little. She sat back, applying a steady pressure on the bit, and he responded and slowed even more. They went around once more at a canter and then she got him down to a walk. She loosened the reins and said praisingly, “What a guy! What a guy!” all the time patting his neck in approval. They walked over to the fence, and one of the men slipped through to hold the stallion’s reins. Caroline slid to the ground and felt her legs begin to shake. She patted the horse once more and turned away. “God, but he’s strong!” she said and met the glacial dark-blue eyes of her stepbrother.

  “What the hell were you doing on that stallion?” he asked.

  Caroline couldn’t resist. “Riding him,” she said with biting sweetness.

  His mouth thinned and temper flared in his eyes. “That horse is a range stallion, half-broke, not one of your tame, fox-chasing hunters. He might have killed you, for God’s sake!”

  “Oh, stop it, Jay.” She turned her back on him and climbed out of the corral.

  “You only just got here, Jay,” One of the men put in. “She’s been on him for half an hour.” Caroline looked around, and the cowboy grinned at her. “Jesus, miss, but you can ride.”

  Caroline grinned back. “My name is Caroline,” she said.

  “And how did you manage with Mahogany?” Jay’s voice was hard as he stared at the ranch hand and then beyond him at the others.

  They all immediately looked away. “Not as well as Caroline,” Jim admitted. “I couldn’t keep him on the fence. No one could.”

  There was an unnerving silence and then Jay said, “Put that saddle back on Dusty.”

  “Sure thing, Jay.”

  Under his chilly blue gaze one of the men hastened to unbuckle Caroline’s girth and transfer the saddle to the gray. When the horse was ready, Jay turned to Caroline.

  “Coming?”

  She didn’t answer but went over to Dusty and swung into the saddle.

  “I don’t want you to ride that stallion again,” Jay said to her as they moved off.

  “He’s your horse,” she replied, her eyes looking straight ahead of her. “I would never have gotten on if I’d thought it would upset you so.”

  “Upset me? It scared the hell out of me.”

  Her lips tightened. “I didn’t jab at his mouth. I didn’t hurt him in any way at all.”

  “It wasn’t you hurting him that worried me,” he said grimly. “It was quite the other way around. That horse is too strong for you, Caroline. You’re a fine rider, but you don’t have the muscle power to control Mahogany.”

  Caroline knew he was right. She also felt a flicker of pleasure at his admission of concern for her. She smiled a little. “I know he’s too strong for me, but we were in the field. There wasn’t anywhere he could go.” She turned her head and looked at her stepbrother. “He’s too strong for anyone, really, unless he wants to cooperate.”

  Jay pushed his hat back on his head. “I guess so. What happened before I got there?”

  “Jim was spurring pretty heavily, and it was only making the stallion angry. I suggested that he stop.”

  Jay slanted her a look. “And they suggested that you get on and try?”

  She grinned. “They were dying to see the Eastern glamour puss dumped in the dust.”

  Jay grunted and didn’t look at her.

  “I didn’t just do it as a dare,” she went on. “I actually thought I might have some success with him. For some reason, I have a very soporific effect on horses. It makes it easy for me to get them to mind me.”

  “A soporific effect?”

  “Yes. As soon as I get on, they relax. I’ve never understood why.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen Dusty this calm,” he said after a minute.

  She shrugged. “You see?”

  “It’s a handy gift to have.”

  “I suppose. It’s helpful on the hunting field and for trail riding, but it’s made me a disaster in the show ring.”

  “Why is that?”

  “A show horse should be collected, alert, alive. The really top show riders like Cecelia Archer just have to get on a horse and the horse looks fabulous. I get on and it looks as if he’s gone to sleep.”

  He smiled a little, as he was meant to, but his eyes remained grave. “Well, you won’t put Mahogany to sleep,” he said. He stopped his horse, and Caroline, surprised, pulled Dusty up as well and looked at him.

  “Mahogany is a magnificent animal,” he said to her, “and I know it must be a temptation to a rider of your caliber to get on him, but he’s not trustworthy, Caroline. Promise me you won’t ride him again.”

  He wasn’t angry now, but he was deadly serious. She looked back into his eyes. “I promise,” she said softly.

  He nodded gravely and began to move forward again.

  “What is this race the men were talking about?” she asked after a minute.

  “It’s at Owen Macdonald’s place down in Utah.” His face took on a faintly sardonic look. “He raises horses—has a racetrack and everything. Every year he has what he calls the Rocky Mountain Stakes Race.” His voice was heavy with irony. “It’s for local horses only. It’s become kin
d of a big deal to win—gives you bragging rights and all that. Anyway, the boys have been after me to enter Mahogany. He hasn’t been ridden, though, since I broke him four years ago.”

  “Mahogany belongs to you, not to your father?”

  “Yes.” He grinned. “Dad told me that if I could break him I could have him. It was quite an incentive.”

  “I didn’t know you had your own stud here,” Caroline said after a minute. “I must say, I’ve been terribly impressed by the ranch horses and I wondered where you got them from. Mahogany’s a thoroughbred, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah. Dad bought him from Kentucky. We breed our own horses because it’s the best way to be sure of a constant supply of good ones. We have to provide every hand with three or four mounts, you see.”

  “How many mares do you have?”

  “About twenty. The horses we don’t want to keep, we sell.”

  They had reached the barn by now, and Caroline gave Dusty a pat. “Well, this guy is grand. I’ve enjoyed him a lot.”

  “You must have horses of your own,” Jay said a little gruffly.

  “I have a hunter, of course, but he’s down in Virginia and I only get to ride him on weekends. There’s a local girl who exercises him for me the rest of the week. I’m afraid he’s really more her horse than mine,” Caroline said a little sadly. “I haven’t had a real horse of my own, one to ride every day, since I was at school.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said noncommittally.

  “Yes.” She sighed. “It is.”

  They stripped and groomed the horses and put them in their stalls in a silence that was surprisingly companionable. Then Jay said, “Have you seen the new kittens?”

  “No!” Caroline’s face lit up. “Did Manny have her babies?”

  “She did. They’re up in the loft. Want to see?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “This way then.” He went over to the ladder that led to the loft where the hay was kept. Caroline followed close behind him. The kittens were all curled up in the hay next to their mother; she had made a nest for them.