Ghost Horse

by Patricia Rosemoor

  Wanting to check things out at the house for himself, Damian didn’t argue. He hated leaving Chloe there by herself and told her so.

  “Nice to know you care.”

  Her words were soft yet laced with something else that touched him, made him remember how he’d left her on the stairs after kissing her, after touching her….

  “I do care, Chloe.”

  He did. He hadn’t known how much until he’d found her passed out on the floor. Until then, he’d merely thought she was good for Nissa and had put his attraction to her as not having had a woman in his life since Priscilla. But when he’d seen her so vulnerable…

  “I’d better get going now.”

  She nodded and softly said, “Thank you for saving my life.”

  Her life…

  She could have died. Carbon monoxide poisoning was nothing to mess with. Luckily she’d gotten the door open at least a crack. Luckily he’d found her only a short time after she’d passed out. But who had built the fire, and why, were still question marks in his mind.

  Driving home, he wondered if one person could really be so unlucky. Falling and hitting her head. Nearly being run over by a car. Breathing poison into her system.

  Something told him more than bad luck was at work.

  Something told him that someone wanted Chloe gone…one way or the other.

  Chapter Twelve

  I had a lot of time to think in that hospital bed. I slept some, thought more. Hard not to do when nurses or technicians kept waking me up, supposedly to take vitals—no doubt to make sure I was still alive.

  I could have died if Damian hadn’t found me…that was very clear to me.

  Why was not.

  Who wanted me gone so desperately that they were ready to harm me if I wouldn’t leave Graylord Pastures?

  They’d just removed the oxygen and I was breathing fine on my own, when I saw a bouquet of flowers enter the hospital room followed by a visitor. For a moment I stopped breathing altogether.

  “I thought you could use some company and an apology,” Jack Larson said.

  Shocked by his unexpected appearance, I didn’t know what to say to him in return, so I merely blinked and forced my lungs to work again.

  “I’ll just put these over here,” he said, setting the flowers on the windowsill. Then he moved closer to my bed—too close for my comfort.

  My mind racing, I asked, “How did you know I was hospitalized?”

  “News gets around fast in this part of the state.”

  No doubt his aunt had told him. I wondered what other information Mrs. Avery shared with her nephew about the goings-on at Graylord Pastures.

  “I’m fine now. As a matter of fact I’ll be going home in a little while.”

  He looked at me pointedly. “Home? Or back to Graylord Pastures?”

  There it was—his reason for coming to see me. “Damian will be here to pick me up soon.” Though I tried to keep hostility out of my tone, I wasn’t sure I succeeded.

  “Is that an invitation for me to leave?”

  Not that he moved an inch closer to the door.

  “I need to get dressed,” I told him civilly.

  “So, an apology is no good from me?”

  “For what exactly are you apologizing?”

  “I’m not really sure. For whatever put you off the other night.”

  We were at an impasse. I wasn’t going to share my suspicions. Apparently, he wasn’t going to go into his true intentions.

  “Perhaps this isn’t the best time, after what you’ve been through and all,” he finally said.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Another time, then. If you’re still working for Graylord, that is.”

  He left, leaving me wondering if that was some kind of veiled threat.

  I got out of the hospital bed and went to the door, wanting to make certain Jack had actually left. I didn’t see him in the busy hallway, so I relaxed a little. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get dressed until Damian arrived with a change of clothing. I didn’t relish the idea of leaving the hospital in a nightgown and blanket.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and waited. More time to think. I’ve never been a coward, but for a moment I wondered if I shouldn’t pack my bags and go back to Chicago.

  That would mean abandoning Dawn—and Nissa. I just couldn’t.

  Bizarrely enough, I didn’t know which was more frightening—the physical danger I found myself in…or the emotional. My growing feelings for Damian were pretty potent.

  When he arrived at the hospital a short while later, my emotions were mixed. I was glad to see him, thankful that he’d saved my life, dreading his learning my true purpose here, and confused about his feelings for me.

  Damian had said he “cared.” Not very specific.

  And he didn’t repeat the sentiment when he gave me my clothing—a calf-length flowered skirt and short-sleeved pink blouse—or a while later when he took me out to the car and started for home. He didn’t notice the flowers on the windowsill and I didn’t say anything. I left them there, thinking the nurses could do whatever they wanted with the bouquet.

  Damian simply talked about my taking it easy for the day and warned me to tell him if I was feeling off or having any unexpected side effects. Nothing personal.

  We were well on our way to Graylord Pastures before he brought up the actual incident.

  “Alex checked the chimney last night to find out why your room was filled with carbon monoxide. He found the flue was blocked.”

  “How?”

  “The fireplace was in use all last winter, so the blockage could be natural. It wouldn’t normally be used again till fall when it would be checked out first.”

  It was “in use.” Not “Dawn had used it.” He was still avoiding talking about her, too.

  As to whether this incident had really been an accident was open to question in my mind. “So did you find out who started the fire?”

  He shook his head. “No one was home but family. Mrs. Avery didn’t get back until after I returned from the hospital, and Merle spent the night at her sister’s.”

  “What about one of the barn workers?”

  “They don’t have keys to the house.”

  “But someone got into the attic without anyone knowing.” Anyone but me.

  “Last night I went up and looked around the attic for myself. Not that there was anything to see. Not specifically, that is.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Someone had been going through things—old furniture, trunks. That was obvious because the dust was disturbed. But for years Nissa has gone up there to amuse herself. She likes to rummage through the family history.”

  “Has she been up there lately?”

  “She says not.”

  “Well, someone has.”

  “Who, then?”

  How much could I say without revealing all I’d figured out in the last few days?

  “How about…someone interested in finding the Equine Diamonds?”

  Damian’s visage darkened. “Alex talks too much. That’s nothing but an old tale, as far as I’m concerned. We don’t know the diamonds even exist anymore.” His irritation came through loud and clear.

  “Whether they do or not, someone could be searching for them…someone desperate to score big.”

  “You wouldn’t have a theory about who that might be?” he asked.

  “What about Jack Larson?”

  Damian chanced a quick glance away from the road to me. “What about him?” he asked, scowling.

  “I know he’d like what you have. I heard him ask about buying one of your stallions. And then in Galena, he just happened to run into me, and—”

  “What! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  I ignored the heated question and told him, “Jack came to see me in the hospital this morning, too. He wanted to know if I was staying on. The other night he was feeling me out about what was going on here—whether or not there were any
more disasters. Though, now that I think about it, I don’t know why he needed to come on to me when all he had to do was ask his aunt. No doubt she told him where to find me.”

  TMI…too much information. My stomach lurched as I expected Damian to ask me how I knew Mrs. Avery was Jack Larson’s aunt. Lucky for me he didn’t seem to digest that I had not-so-common knowledge about one of his employees.

  “You think Larson is really after the diamonds?” he asked. “And that Mrs. Avery is helping him?”

  “You don’t think it’s possible?”

  “I think you’ve been doing a lot of imagining about the situation, considering you’ve only been here for less than a week.”

  “A lot has happened in a few days.” I’d had enough excitement for a lifetime. “So, if you don’t think Jack Larson is rummaging around in the attic, then who?”

  Damian’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. I could swear he’d thought of someone else, hence the descent into silence. He was pushing me away again, just as he’d done the evening before. I felt closed off, suddenly alone. Graylord Pastures was a welcome sight.

  As was Nissa when she came running out of the house to the car. The moment I alighted, she threw her arms around me.

  “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”

  I hugged her, saying, “I’m okay, and nothing could keep me from coming back.”

  Hollow words. Someone was trying to keep me from Nissa. They just hadn’t succeeded.

  Yet…

  Even once inside the house, Nissa clung to me. Alex volunteered to get me anything I needed, and Merle told me she would cook whatever caught my fancy. Everyone in the household fussed over me, other than Mrs. Avery. Big surprise. And Damian. He was exceptionally quiet, as if his mind were elsewhere.

  Dwelling on Jack Larson or someone else who could be after the Equine Diamonds?

  Since he wouldn’t tell me who he suspected, I guessed it would have to be someone close to him… like his brother. But Alex had been gone with Damian and Nissa the evening before. Or had he? He’d taken his own car. Maybe he’d been the first to return and had gotten himself into the attic without my knowing. Perhaps the secret passageways weren’t still sealed, after all.

  I rested, as instructed, and accepted all the attention for a couple of hours, after which I grew bored and restless. I had to get out of the house where I could think.

  “I’m going for a walk,” I announced, getting up off the couch, where I’d been paging through a horse magazine.

  Nissa popped up off the floor, where she’d been keeping me company. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Alone.” I smoothed back the wild red hair from her cheek. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I just want to walk over to the pastures and watch the horses for a while. I need fresh air.” Before she could volunteer again, I added, “And a little solitude.”

  Nissa didn’t appear happy, but neither did she object.

  Even though the walk was short, it did me good to stretch my legs. And it did my soul good to watch the horses in the pasture—a mare with her foal and a juvenile that appeared to be hers, as well, if the similar markings were any indication.

  Clifford was just turning out another couple of mares, both of whom looked to be pregnant. When he saw me, he came over to where I stood.

  “Heard you had a scare last night.”

  “A big one,” I said.

  “Mr. Damian have an explanation for what happened to you?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  His narrow face pulled into a scowl and he looked down his hawkish nose at me. “You’re lucky he didn’t send you packing.”

  “I’m not the one who did anything wrong.”

  “You saying someone did?”

  Not wanting to go there, I looked over the groom’s shoulder and changed the subject. “Such beautiful horses. And I love riding out here.”

  “You’re not bad for a city woman, neither,” Clifford admitted. “Probably as good as the last one.”

  “You mean Dawn?”

  “Yup. She would’ve ridden every horse in the place if Mr. Damian would’ve let her.”

  Now why hadn’t I thought to ask the groom about her before? “It makes sense that he’s particular who rides which horses. I mean, they are very valuable animals,” I said, wondering what I could learn from him.

  Clifford nodded. “Only him and Mr. Alex ride the stallions. Well, that he knows of. One night when I worked late, I caught Miss Dawn riding one of ’em out in the far pasture. Bareback, too.”

  “A stallion?” My pulse fluttered, and I tried to keep my voice casual when I asked, “Which one?”

  “Oh, he’s not here now. Got himself killed, poor Centaur did.”

  “Dawn rode Centaur?”

  “You heard of him, huh? Yeah, just that once. Well, that’s all she admitted to. But I seen her quite a few times making over that fella, bringing him apples and carrots. She was in love with that gray, and I swear he must’ve loved her, too. He weren’t no easy ride, but you’d a thought he was if you’d seen her on his back. Gentle as a lamb he was. Never seen nothing like it. Like they had some kinda otherworldly connection.”

  My chest squeezed tight, and my blood rushed through my veins double-time.

  Dawn and Centaur…both dead and still connected? Is that why I saw them both in my dreams?

  It couldn’t be…or maybe it could.

  MY WHOLE DAY was off-kilter. After my walk I felt exhausted, so I made myself comfortable on the parlor sofa, thinking I would rest until dinner. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I didn’t fight it. I let myself drift off.

  When I awoke, it was hours later. The parlor was dark but for a table light set on low. And someone had covered me with an afghan.

  Damian?

  Was he capable of such a small but comforting gesture?

  Realizing I’d slept right through dinner, I wandered into the kitchen in search of leftovers.

  Merle turned from where she was cleaning a counter. “Ah, there you are, miss. I fixed a plate for you.”

  “Bless your heart, Merle. Suddenly I’m ravenous.”

  “Good,” she said, pulling a plate out of the refrigerator and setting it in the microwave. “It didn’t get a chance to get cold, so it’ll only take a minute. Set yourself down.” She indicated a stool at a raised counter.

  “You don’t have to wait on me.”

  “Sit.”

  I sat and she poured me a tall glass of iced tea, and I realized I finally had that opportunity to talk to her alone—the first time since arriving at the farm. For once, Mrs. Avery was nowhere around.

  “Thanks.” Hoping the housekeeper could stay away just for ten minutes, I said, “Merle, what did you think of my predecessor?”

  “Miss Dawn? A very dramatic young woman, but good-hearted. And good for Miss Nissa.”

  “Do you think what they said about her is true? I mean about her eloping?”

  The microwave dinged. Merle shrugged and went for the plate of food. “She was always talking about men liking her, and she talked a good game, but I never got the idea that she was seriously attached to any one man.”

  I wanted to ask about Jack Larson, but I thought that might be pushing it a bit. Merle undoubtedly had certain loyalties to the housekeeper.

  “Mmm, smells delicious,” I murmured as the cook set down a plate of chicken and dumplings and sweet potatoes. “What about the night she, um…left.” I’d almost said disappeared. “Was she nervous? Happy?”

  Merle gave me a curious expression. “Just her usual self. Why are you so interested?”

  “Just curious. I was down by the barns earlier. Clifford said Dawn used to come down there, too. He said she had a real connection with some of the horses.”

  Merle nodded. “When she left the house that last night, it was to go down to the barns. She did that most evenings. Took some carrots or apples with her for some of the horses. I thought it was a bit late that night, but she said she cou
ldn’t sleep.”

  I’d started eating while she was talking, but my attention didn’t waver. “How late?”

  “Well after ten. I always stay late before my days off to prepare meals that can just be thrown in the oven or reheated when I’m gone. I was taking an extra day, so there was extra cooking to do. I was just finishing up and getting ready to leave when she came downstairs.”

  “This is delicious,” I said, swallowing a piece of dumpling. I washed it down with some iced tea. “So you were gone when all the excitement happened.”

  Merle suddenly grew tight-lipped. A little thrill shot through me at her reaction.

  “What is it?” I asked, fork poised over the food.

  “Just thinking about that poor horse. I know Miss Dawn was extra fond of him.”

  “Centaur? What about him?”

  “The accident was such a tragedy and all. It had to be an accident.”

  It sounded like Merle was trying to convince herself of the fact. “I…I don’t understand.”

  “When I came back from my days off, they were both gone.”

  My chest suddenly squeezed tight and I could hardly get the next words out. “When exactly did Centaur die?”

  “The same night Miss Dawn left.”

  It hit me then like a full-force gale. Dawn had gone out to see the horses…Centaur, no doubt…a sudden storm came up and the stallion got out of the pasture and died…and by the next morning, Dawn was gone.

  There had to be a connection!

  A chill spread through me.

  Had Dawn ridden the horse that night? Had she been responsible for his getting loose? Is that why Merle had been so reluctant to say anything—because she’d put it together, too? I’d found the hair clip at the palisades. Had Dawn gone after the stallion to try to take him back only to see him rush over the bluff to his death?

  If so, Dawn would never forgive herself. I knew her well enough to understand that if, indeed, she’d been even remotely responsible for the stallion’s death she would never be able to face the Graylords again.

  Was that it, then?

  The real reason Dawn had made up an elopement and left without saying goodbye to anyone?

  The real reason she hadn’t contacted me since?

  Because she’d feared being held responsible for a tragedy she hadn’t meant to instigate?