by Sylvie Kurtz
Luci flinched under the brisk stroke of the brush. Ellen lightened her touch. Was he simply feeling her unease? “I’ll be leaving as soon as we’re done here.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She swallowed, counted, and still had a hard time keeping a leash on her temper. “I need you to take care of the horses.”
Resting his hands across the horse’s back, he closed his eyes. When he looked up, frustration was etched on his face. “You’re right, you don’t owe me anything. I want to know where you’re going because I need to know you’re safe.”
The need didn’t sit well with him and that made it easier to accept. “Thing is, I’ve had all of my decisions made for me for too long. I need to do this for myself.”
“Last night you called me a friend.”
She had, but that didn’t change anything. “It’s something I need to do.” But he was right. If Taryn had asked her, she would have told her. She switched the brush for a hoof pick. “Ashbrook.”
“What’s in Ashbrook?” She felt the tension in his hand reverberate through Luci’s skin as she picked up a foreleg.
“Garth Ramsey.”
He muttered a curse. “The same Garth Ramsey who held you prisoner?”
She shrugged carelessly and returned the foot to the ground. “He’s in jail. He can’t hurt me.”
“Why?” he rasped, and she wondered at the intensity of the question.
“I’ve got some questions for him.” There was a snarl in her voice.
“I hear you, Ellen.” He reached across Luci’s back and cupped her cheek with a hand. The tenderness of his touch had her throat constricting. “But you don’t have to do this.”
Silently she implored for his understanding. “I want him to see I’m not afraid. I want to look him straight in the eyes. I want the truth.”
“The truth of what? What is worth torturing yourself that way?”
She lifted Luci’s rear foot and picked it clean. “I want to know how he’s drugging the horses.”
“Ellen, you’re not making sense. How can you think he has anything to do with what’s happening to the horses?”
“He drugged me and got away with it. The drug was experimental. It didn’t show up on any tests. Why wouldn’t he do the same thing to horses? Winning means everything to him.”
“He’s in jail.”
She moved to the far side and cleaned out both feet. “He owns them.”
“They were bred at his farm. I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean he owns them. The Bancrofts hold their papers.”
“So where were the horses going then? There’s not a horse at the Double B. But Royal Legacy is in the same area.”
“Maybe they keep the horses with their trainer. A lot of people do that, Ellen.”
“You think I’m paranoid.”
“I think you’re taking a leap of logic that’s too big.”
Fists clenched, she whirled on him. Last night he’d given her strength. Today he was trying to take it away. “You don’t understand.”
“I do.” He huffed out a breath and thrust a hand into his jeans pocket. “I understand Garth hurt you. I understand you want control over your life. But I don’t think facing him now will get you anything. Dr. Warner and the Bancrofts are responsible for these horses’ condition, not Garth Ramsey. You’re looking at the wrong place for your answers.”
She dropped the hoof pick back into the caddie. “Then there’s no harm in going to see him and asking him a few questions.”
“Ellen…”
She spritzed Luci with fly spray. “Garth is a fine actor. Everyone sees him as a smiling good old boy, but he’s not. He’s calculating and controlling and manipulative and very possessive. If he got into the breeding business, it’s because he wants to get into that winner’s circle. The getting there is more important than the how of doing it. Even if it means seeing someone else gets them there for him. If he’s chosen to race, he’s chosen to win and nothing will stop him. Not even being behind bars.”
“It’s a mistake.”
“He acquires things. He doesn’t let them go.” Perseus nudged her back pocket when she got too close to his stall. She turned and rubbed his muzzle, then turned back to Luci. “I’ve got to know what he’s done to these horses so I can help them.”
He trapped the hand fiddling with Luci’s mane beneath his, forcing her to look at him. “How long can you drive before your eyes start blurring?”
“That’s below the belt.” She jerked her hand from beneath his, then hid the awkwardness by returning the fly spray to the caddie.
“You get under my skin,” he said.
Her head jerked up. His intense gaze made her swallow hard. “Does that bother you?”
Hell, yeah, the look in his eyes said. Not practical for a man to have an itch he couldn’t scratch. And it wasn’t practical either for a woman like her to fall for a drifter.
“Let me go with you, Ellen. I’ll drive and make sure we get back before feeding time. You can ask the sheriff to patrol the place while we’re gone.”
“They’re getting worse.” Ulcers were appearing in their mouths. Even with restarting the high-iron feed, the fatigue lingered.
She didn’t want to give in, but the look in his eyes had her teetering on acceptance. This ranch was all she had. It was a symbol of her health, her future. These horses all counted on her. If she wasn’t here for them and something happened, she’d never forgive herself. “What if I’m right? What if Garth holds the key to their health?”
“What if you’re wrong and all that happens is you get hurt again?”
Then she’d find out how strong she really was.
Chapter Eleven
The last thing Kevin wanted was to come face-to-face with the man who’d done such harm to the woman he loved, but if he couldn’t stop her from going, the least he could do was stand by her. As a guard led them to the visitors’ room, the surreal clinks and clangs of keys and doors, the dissonant tattoo of heels on sand-colored tiles, the harsh light casting stark shadows on the puke-green walls did nothing to ease the tension stringing him tighter than a cinch on a bronco.
That’s enough, he wanted to say. You’ve proved your point. He couldn’t see how this confrontation could help Ellen or the horses. He wanted to haul her right out of this prison compound and back to the ranch where she belonged. But here she was, straight-backed and determined, and he’d promised to let her handle Garth on her own.
He reached for Nina’s feather, rubbed the talisman as if it held answers. But the memories of this town, of his relentless teenage anger, of his failures, proved stronger than Nina’s medicine.
“Ten minutes,” their guard escort announced.
Ellen was granted the interview only because of the sheriff department’s respect for her late father. Kevin had found out during the drive to Ashbrook that Carter Paxton had died of a heart attack while he’d fought to fast-track Garth’s trial.
“Thank you,” Ellen said. Her voice sounded so small it wrenched his heart. She wouldn’t thank him for reaching for her and trying to shield her with his arms.
She sat in the molded-plastic chair facing the wire-reinforced glass. On the other side, a door opened and an orange-garbed prisoner entered. A smile curved Garth’s mouth as he spotted Ellen. Kevin had always hated the way Garth looked at her as if she were one of the pecan pralines he favored but could rarely afford to buy at Tio Rio’s. Sixteen years later, the urge to punch that smirk right off his face was still just as strong. A guard led Garth to a chair, sat him down, then stood at the door, arms crossed over his chest, pretending to hear nothing.
Kevin’s stomach churned. Seeing Garth behind the glass, he recognized that the friend of his youth had turned into a hard stranger. There was something cold about Garth’s gaze, something spiteful about the way he now looked at Ellen.
Standing his ground took everything Kevin had. Every muscle strained. His jaw tightened. His hands coiled into
white-knuckled fists. He desperately wanted to stand between Ellen and Garth, to shout at his old friend—to strangle him. You won’t ever hurt her again. But he knew. The ache in his heart told him. Given a chance, Garth would find her weakness and skewer her with it.
White-faced and scared to death, his brave Ellen had the courage to confront the man who embodied her worst fears. Her internal strength awed him.
What does that make you? A chicken-hearted, lily-livered, yellow-bellied coward.
He saw it then, the error of his way. Nina was right. The only one his secret protected was himself. Ellen deserved the truth. She deserved an apology. She deserved to render whatever punishment she saw fit. By lying to her, he’d cheated her of the closure she was trying so hard to find.
As soon as they were back on the ranch, where she felt safe, he would tell her the truth about his identity—and accept whatever fallout came of it. Then he’d face Chance and ask for his forgiveness. Just as Ellen was doing, he’d face his fears. Only with the truth could all of their lives stand a chance to flow a true course.
SECRETLY, Ellen was glad Kevin was standing by her. His solid presence and protective stance just beyond her shoulder calmed her. She recognized the intense look in his eyes, the stark set of his features, and almost smiled. The cowboy hero who’d ridden into town on his white steed would certainly jump between her and the outlaw named Garth. That and the reinforced glass between her and Garth gave her the courage to confront him.
Feet flat on the floor, hands twined on the black strip of counter jutting from the wall beneath the glass, she watched him approach. The orange jumpsuit was a far cry from the silk shirts and custom-made suits he favored, but it did nothing to douse the arrogance stamped in his features. His blond hair was still styled perfectly, his nails skillfully manicured, his teeth brilliantly white. And the smooth ease of his gestures might still fool someone else into thinking he was a harmless teddy bear.
Not her.
She saw the new darkness etched in his brown eyes. She felt his hard anger through the protective glass. She knew the depths he would delve to conquer. He was a man-eating Kodiak. And he’d surely try to sink his claws into her.
Everything inside her turned to jelly. She wasn’t strong enough for this. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“Hello, darlin’.” Garth’s voice warbled eerily over the round speaker that allowed communication between them, reminding her of his visits at the nursing home. Goose bumps raced up and down her arms, but she refused to rub them away. “How’s my lovely wife today?”
“I was never your wife.” His slave, his prisoner, but never his wife.
“An annulment doesn’t change the facts. You were my wife for thirteen years.” He leaned back in the chair and lazily draped an arm over the back. He slanted her left hand a glance. “What did you do with my ring?”
A small smile twitched her lips. She glanced down at the bare ring finger. Her first act of freedom was to hawk the marquise-cut diamond Garth had slipped on her finger while she was comatose. “I bought a manure spreader for the tractor. I thought it fitting.”
A muffled chuckle sounded behind her. Garth’s gaze narrowed, then he laughed out loud as if he’d never heard anything funnier. “Hey, you’re growin’ some spunk. It’s about time. So who’s your shadow?”
She felt Kevin stiffen behind her, ready to pounce. It gave her comfort. “A friend.”
“A friend,” he mimicked, then smirked like a cat well fed on canary. “Have you screwed him yet?”
Heat flamed up her neck and fired her cheeks. She knew he was trying to shock her, to throw her off balance. “This isn’t a social call, Garth.”
“Just inquirin’ after your health.” He feigned a serious look and leaned forward. “Well, then, what can I do to help you, darlin’?”
His tone said help was the furthest thing from his mind. “You can answer a few questions.”
He waved her comment away as if she were an insolent child. “Ah, we’ve been all through this before. What happened wasn’t personal—”
“It was to me, but that’s not what I want to know.”
“Well, then, darlin’, you’ve got me trembling with curiosity.” His smile widened and he exaggerated a shiver. He still thought of her as a puppet whose strings he could jerk at will. She’d show him.
“What did you do to the horses?”
He frowned. “Horses?”
“Royal Legacy.”
“Ah, those horses.” He leaned back again, studying her beneath eyebrows that now shaded his eyes. “I sold all my stock a while back.”
“Before you sold them, what did you do to them?”
He eyed her narrowly until the skewer of his gaze made her want to jump from her chair. But she held her ground, not blinking once.
“Do you remember my father?” he said finally.
Percy Ramsey, along with his brother, Weldon, were heirs to the Archer Ramsey lumber and oil fortune. Weldon hung on to his half and multiplied his holdings through real estate. Percy squandered his through fly-by-night schemes, booze and gambling. He was found dead in a ditch on Garth’s thirteenth birthday. Drunk, he’d drowned in an inch of muddy water. “I remember.”
Garth gave a dry laugh. “He loved the ponies, but his system for picking winners, well, it wasn’t much of a success.”
“What does that have to do with Royal Legacy?”
His smile deepened. His eyes burned. “My system guarantees winners.”
And winning had always been everything to Garth. Because of the ridicule his father’s losses had garnered the family? Her fingers tightened against each other. Kevin’s shadow fell across her shoulder as if it were a shield. Bolstered, she pressed on. “How are you drugging them?”
“Druggin’. I don’t do drugs.” He acted as if such an act was beneath him.
“I saw you.” She couldn’t help it, she looked at the crook of her elbow and the invisible puncture wounds that had kept her mind locked and her body frozen. He thought he was so slick. If he didn’t watch out, he’d slip right out of his chair, greased by the ooze of his lies. “I know what you did—”
He waved away her comment. “That was only a booster.”
“A booster?” Her mouth gaped open in disbelief.
He leaned forward and whispered, “A little jump to deepen the spell when it looked like you were comin’ out of it. I couldn’t let my Sleeping Beauty awaken, now, could I?”
Kevin spit out a low curse. A wave of nausea had her clutching her stomach. She cycled through half a dozen breaths, reminding herself he was trying to push her buttons and draw a reaction. She could not give in to his taunts. She swallowed hard and gave a half shrug to dislodge the spidery film of his evil trying to spin itself around her. “So, what does your winning system entail?”
He hitched a leg over his knee and stared at her through the glass. “Do you know who Prometheus is?”
“I’m surprised you do,” she blurted before she could stop herself.
“Now, see, darlin’, that hurts. If you want answers, you’re gonna have to play nice.”
The horses had to come before her own personal need to land a few digs in Garth’s thick hide. She nodded, looked down at her hands and noticed how jagged her nails had become since she’d settled at the ranch. “I know who Prometheus is.”
“Prometheus brought fire to man.” He smiled. “Those ancient Greeks knew how to live life to its fullest. They were ambitious, hard-living and visionary. They knew the answer to death was to carve out magnificent deeds.”
They were also touchy about their honor and vengeful when they felt wronged. Just like Garth. She put her hands beneath her thighs and sat up straighter. “Prometheus also suffered terribly for having brought the gift. What did your Prometheus bring you?”
“Speed.” The word hissed out of him like air rushing out of a punctured balloon.
Now they were getting somewhere. Keep him bragging. Keep him showing off his “magnificent
deed.” “How?”
“Research. The best money could buy.” A smug look crossed his face.
“Could?”
Half his mouth curled up. His eyebrows scrunched in pseudo sadness. “I’ve had to divert my funds because of you.”
A perverse need to cut down his arrogance gripped her. “It breaks my heart.”
“After all I’ve done for you, it should.”
She ignored the sharp edge in his voice, gentled her own. “What were you researching?”
He pressed his forearms against his side of the counter and leaned forward so that his fiery gaze filled her field of vision. His voice took on a tone of the possessed. “Possibilities.”
“Possibilities?” She knew she couldn’t rush him, but she had to keep him moving forward.
“Did you know that you can splice the gene of a fish onto a tomato to make it more frost tolerant?”
“Garth…” This was not the time for sidetracks.
“There is a point to this. Indulge me, darlin’. Answer my question.”
She huffed out a sigh. “No, learning about genetic engineering hasn’t been on my list of priorities.”
“That’s too bad.”
Her fingers curled tighter around her seat and she forced herself to speak in a calm, even voice. “What does this have to do with the horses and their illness?”
“Who’s ill?” Garth frowned with mimelike overkill.
“Your horses—Titan, Apollo, Calliope, Hercules, Perseus. The ones you sold to your neighbors, the Bancrofts.”
“Ah.”
She waited, but he didn’t amplify. “What did you do to them?”
“It’s a long story.”
She made a show of looking around the small room and the chicken wire-reinforced glass between them. “Looks like you’ve got plenty of time on your hands.”
He slunk back in his chair, draping his arm carelessly over the back. “You know, darlin’, I do like this spunky side of you. It’s too bad you were so out of it all those years. We could have had some fun.”
Not in a million years. But she wasn’t going to get anywhere trading barbs. She wanted answers, and for that, she’d have to appeal to his vanity. “It takes someone brilliant to gain speed without drugs. How did you do it?”