He rose early, so she rose early. He went to the track to oversee Double Bluff's morning exercise, so she spent her mornings at the track. There were days when by noon she was so weary she wanted to crawl off into a corner and sleep. But there were races and luncheons and functions, often back-to-back. She refused to miss even one.
Erin McKinnon Logan wasn't hiding in some dim corner until the trouble passed. She would face it, shoulders straight, and dare even one person to look her in the eye and make an accusation. It was hard, and grew harder, so that every day she had to force herself to put in an appearance. There were whispers and knowing looks behind smiles. There were eyes that turned away rather than meet hers. And there were a few who preferred to cloak their insults in manners.
She dressed carefully for a formal dinner party near the end of Derby week. Erin had always felt that a strong outer appearance helped tap the inner strength. Attending alone was only more difficult, but Burke had been called to a meeting at the last minute.
She could have stayed at the hotel, just as Burke had asked. The truth was that a quiet evening, a tray in bed and a good book was exactly what she would have preferred. But that would have been cowardly. So she wore her midnight-blue silk and hung her sapphire around her neck like a badge.
While others sipped cocktails, she nursed orange juice and made conversation. More than ever she was grateful for Paddy. He stayed close, keeping her spirits up and her mind busy with stories of Ireland. But he couldn't shield her from everything, nor from everyone.
"My dear, what a pretty dress." Dorothy Gains-field swept toward her, her eyes as cold as her diamonds.
"Good evening, Mrs. Gainsfield."
"Tell me, are you enjoying your first Derby week? It is your first, isn't it?"
"Aye, it's my first." If Erin had learned one thing, it was how to return a meaningless smile. "I'm sure you've been coming here for many years."
"Indeed," she said repressively, refusing to be insulted by one so beneath her station. "I don't see your husband."
"He couldn't make it."
"That's understandable, isn't it?"
Erin felt Paddy start forward, and laid a hand on his arm. "With the race only a couple of days away, Burke is busy."
"I'm sure he is." The older woman gave a dry laugh and sipped her champagne. "You know, I'm rather surprised he's being allowed to enter after that… mishap, shall we say, at the Bluegrass Stakes."
"The racing commission feels Double Bluff's record speaks for itself and for Burke. Once the investigation's complete, that, too, will speak for itself."
"Oh, I don't doubt it, my dear, not for a minute. It isn't unusual for someone to get a bit too enthusiastic about winning. This wouldn't be the first time the method's been used to lower the odds."
"Burke doesn't cheat. He doesn't have to."
"I'm sure you're right." Mrs. Gainsfield smiled again. "But then, I wasn't speaking of your husband… Mrs. Logan." Satisfied with the dig, Mrs. Gainsfield moved away.
"That dough-faced old cow," Paddy began as he fired up. "I'll give her a piece of my mind."
"No." Again Erin put a hand on his arm. "She's not worth it." Erin watched her mingle with the crowd. "When Double Bluff wins, it'll be enough."
Erin was determined that by the end of the week they would have discovered who was responsible for Double Bluff's disqualification and the cloud on Burke's reputation would be gone. She was even more determined that on Sunday, when Churchill Downs opened for the Derby, Burke would win what was rightfully his.
Once that was done, she would face the cracks and scars on her marriage. Perhaps Burke had been wrong when he'd said most marriages didn't work because one person tried to change the other. She knew now that if changes weren't made—in both of them—their marriage would never survive.
She watched him now as he stood near the oval with his trainer. It was barely dawn, with a light so sweet and fragile that it turned the white steeples pink. The air was cool, quiet enough to carry voices to her, if not the words. All around her the stands were empty. In twenty-four hours they would be filling, section by section, until they and the infield grass were packed with bodies. The race would last only a matter of minutes, but for those few minutes, every square inch would be crammed with excitement, with pumping hearts and with hope.
"It has its own magic, this time of day."
"Travis." Erin was up and swinging her arms around him. She hadn't realized until that moment how badly she'd needed someone to hold on to. "Oh, it's so glad I am to see you. But you shouldn't be here." She drew away just as quickly. "What about Dee? Is she all right?"
"All right enough to throw me out. She told me she could use a couple of days without my hovering over her."
"That's nonsense and I know it, but I'm grateful to both of you." She looked beyond his shoulder to her husband. "He needs his friends now."
"How about you?"
She gave a quick laugh and a shake of her head. "Oh, he doesn't seem to need me."
"I don't believe that, but it isn't what I meant. How are you holding up?"
"I'm tough enough to get through a few rough spots yet."
"You're a bit pale," he murmured, then took her chin in his hand. "More than a bit."
"I'm fine, really. Could use a bit more sleep, that's all." Then she swayed against him. Before she could pull herself back, he was settling her into a seat.
"Just sit back. I'll get Burke."
"No." She gripped his hand and held hard. "I'll be all right in a second. I just need to close my eyes."
"Erin, if you're ill—"
"I'm not ill." She laughed and unconsciously laid a hand on the child that was growing inside her. "I promise you."
He lifted his brow as he studied her. "Then congratulations."
Erin opened her eyes slowly. "You're a sharp one."
"I've been through it a few times." He stroked her hand until a hint of color returned to her face. "How does Burke feel about starting a family?"
"He doesn't know." Steadier, she sat up and was relieved to see Burke's back was still to them. "He has enough to worry about right now."
"Don't you think this would more than balance the scales?"
"No." Letting out a sigh, she faced Travis again. "No, I don't, because I'm not sure he wants children at all. And right now he doesn't want anything more than for me to leave him alone."
"You're underestimating him."
"You're his friend."
"And yours."
"Then stand up with him until this is over. Let me tell him about the baby when the time's right."
"All right. If you promise to take better care of yourself."
She smiled and kissed his cheek. "After tomorrow, I'll sleep for a week."
"Travis." Burke slipped under the rail. "I didn't expect to see you down here."
"Hate to miss a Derby. How are things going?"
Burke glanced over his shoulder to where the horse was being walked and cooled. "The colt's in top form. You can say we're both ready to put things right."
"The investigation?"
"Slow." That was true, at least of the official one. His own was moving quite a bit faster. Now that Travis was here, he would have someone he could trust to listen to his theory. Though he wore his tinted glasses, Erin felt his eyes on her. With a nod of acknowledgment, she rose.
"I'll leave you to discuss business."
"She's worried about you," Travis murmured as Erin walked away from the stands.
"I'd prefer she didn't. What I'd prefer is that she went back to the Three Aces until this is cleared up."
"If you'd wanted a quiet, obedient wife, you shouldn't have picked an Irish one."
Burke pulled out a cigar and contemplated it.
"How many times have you been tempted to throttle Dee?"
"In the last seven years, or in the last week?"
For the first time in days, Burke smiled and meant it. "Never mind. Do me a favor and keep an eye
on her, will you? I don't think she's feeling well."
"You could try talking to her yourself."
"I'm not much good at talk. I'd like you to take her back with you after the race tomorrow."
"Aren't you coming back?"
"I might have to stay in Kentucky a few more days."
"Got a lead?"
"A hunch." He lit the cigar and blew out smoke. "Trouble is, the racing commission likes proof."
"Want to talk about it?"
He hesitated, only because it still seemed unnatural to confide in another. "Yeah. You got a few minutes?"
Erin wasn't sure why she felt the sudden need, but she walked toward the stables. Maybe if she could prove to herself that she was strong and capable, Burke would begin to believe it. She'd faced the gossip, she'd stood tall against the innuendos. She'd held her own. But there was one thing she'd yet to face, one fear she'd yet to vanquish. So she would do it. Then, tomorrow, she would walk easily beside Burke into Double Bluff's stall, and she would stand beside him without a quiver in the winner's circle.
Three yards from the stables, she stopped to give herself another lecture. It was foolish to be afraid after all this time. It was useless to cling to a feeling that had been caused years before by an accident. She'd been around animals all her life. Married to Burke, she would continue to be around them. And the child… She rested a hand on her stomach. Her child would be raised without fear of his inheritance.
She would walk in alone. Then, tomorrow, even if Burke wished her to hell and back, she would walk in beside him.
She went closer. The scents were there—the hay, the sweet smell of grain, the pungent smell of horse and sweat. The sounds, too—hooves scraping over concrete, harness jingling, the sighs and lazy whinnies of horses at rest. She'd be quiet and go carefully, remembering that each step was one step closer.
The light changed almost from the moment she stepped inside. It was dimmer, softer, and now there was the scent of leather as well.
Most of the horses had already been exercised, and the grooms were indulging in their own breakfasts before it came time to brush and rub and wrap. She'd chosen this time, the least busy time, so that if she bolted no one would see.
But she didn't bolt. One of the horses dipped its head over the gate and she jumped a little, but she stood her ground. She could touch him, Erin told herself. The gate was latched. She could lay her hand on him just as easily as she had with Burke's foal.
Her fingers trembled a little, but she laid them gingerly against the horse's cheek. He eyed her, but when he shifted his weight she jerked back.
"I'll have to do better than that," she muttered, then laid her hand more firmly on his neck. Her palm was damp and she didn't move a muscle, but she felt a little thrill of victory.
He was a fine-looking animal, she told herself as she made her hand move just a little over his neck. It was the Pentel colt, one she'd seen race nearly as often as she'd seen Bluff.
"There, now," she managed with a sigh. "It's not so bad. My heart's thumping, but I'm here." I'm here, she repeated silently, and I'm coming back every day. Each time it would be a little easier. She drew her hand back, then made herself reach out again. And it was easier. Just as it would become easier to face and overcome her insecurities with Burke. She wasn't going to go through life being cowed and miserable because her husband was too stubborn to accept her love and her support. She might have taken him the way he was, but there would be some changes made. And soon.
When she heard voices, she drew her hand back again, embarrassed. She didn't want one of the grooms wandering in to find her. She didn't think she was quite ready to stand in the stables and hold a conversation. Erin wiped her damp palm on her slacks and fixed a casual smile on her face.
She'd started out when the tone of the voices stopped her. There was anger in them and, though they remained quiet, more than a little desperation. Because she hesitated, she had time to recognize one of them.
"If you want your money, you'll find a way."
"I tell you the horse isn't alone for five minutes. Logan's got him locked up like the crown jewels."
Erin's lips parted, then firmed. She took a step back into the shadows and listened.
"You've got a job to do, one you're paid well for. If you can't get to the horse, get to his feed. I want him out of the running for tomorrow."
"I ain't poisoning no horse, and I'm tired of taking all the risks."
"You didn't have any qualms about using a hypodermic or taking ten percent of the purse from the Bluegrass Stakes."
"Amphetamines is one thing, cyanide's another. That horse dies and Logan's not going to rest until somebody hangs for it. It ain't going to be me."
"Then use the drugs." The voice was impatient, dismissive. Erin found her hands balled into fists. "Find a way, or you won't see a penny. If the colt's found drugged in the Derby, he's out for the season. I need this race." And she needed to get to Burke. Erin stayed still and waited for them to pass on. But luck wasn't with her. As she saw the two figures enter the stables, she straightened her shoulders and moved forward. It was a gamble, but the best she could hope for was a bluff.
"Good day to you, Mr. Durnam." She made her lips curve even when she saw the shock come into his eyes. She glanced at the groom, too, one of the new ones Burke's trainer had hired.
"Mrs. Logan." Durnam smiled in return but was already calculating. "We didn't see you in the stables."
"Just thought I'd look over the competition. If you'll excuse me, Burke's waiting."
"I think not." He took her arm as she tried to pass. Because she'd been half expecting it, Erin was already primed to scream. With surprising speed, his hand clamped over her mouth.
"Good God almighty, what are you doing?" the groom demanded. "Logan'll have your head."
"He'll have yours as well if she goes to him and blabs. She heard everything, you idiot." Because Erin's struggles were making him pant, Durnam thrust her at the groom. "Hold on to her. Let me think."
"We've got to get the hell out of here. If someone comes in—"
"Shut up. Just shut up." Durnam's face was already sheened with sweat. He took out a white handkerchief and mopped it. He was a desperate man who had already taken desperate measures. Now it was time to take another. "We'll put her in the van until the race is over tomorrow. By then I'll have thought of something." Taking the handkerchief, he pulled it around her mouth. As an extra precaution, he took the groom's grimy bandanna and tied it over her eyes. "Get some rope. Hurry, tie her hands and feet."
Erin choked on the gag and struggled against both of them, but she was already aware she'd lose. On a desperate impulse she worked her wedding ring off her hand and let it fall to the ground. Then ropes bit into her wrist and she was smothered inside a blanket. She felt herself being lifted but could do no more than squirm. Even that was futile as the more she resisted, the harder it was to breathe. She heard a door open just before she was lifted up and set inside on a hard floor.
"What the hell are we going to do with her?" the groom demanded as he stared down at the heap inside the blanket. "The minute we let her go, she'll talk."
"Then we won't let her go." Durnam leaned against the side of the van and this time mopped his brow with his sleeve. Everything was going to go his way, he told himself. He'd come too far, risked too much to have one woman destroy it.
"I ain't having no part in murdering a woman." Durnam dropped his arm and gave the groom a long, narrow look. "You just take care of the horse and leave the woman to me."
They were going to kill her. Erin struggled to work the blanket from her face as she heard them shut the van door and walk away. She'd heard that in his voice. Even if he'd promised the groom that he'd cause her no harm, she would have known. Whatever had pushed Durnam to this point, he wouldn't hesitate to do away with any obstacle.
Her baby. With a half sob, Erin twisted her wrists and fought against the rope. Mother of mercy, she had to protect h
er baby. And Burke.
The panic welled up, and for a moment she lost herself in it completely. Before she'd regained control, her wrists were raw and her shoulders bruised. Panting, Erin lay quiet in the dark and tried to think. If she could get up somehow and find the door, she might find a way of forcing it open. She inched her way over to the wall; then, using it as a brace, she managed to get to her knees. She was soaked with sweat by the time she'd struggled to her feet. Keeping her back to the wall, she slid along it, groping with her fingers.
She almost wept when she found the knob. She twisted, straining on her toes before she could fit her fingers around it. Locked. She had to shake her head to keep the tears from coming. Of course it was locked. Durnam might be a brute, but he wasn't a fool. She tried thudding against the door, hoping to draw some attention, but trussed up tightly she was unable to get the momentum to make more than a quiet bump. Erin slid to the floor again and, closing her mind to both panic and pain, continued to work at the ropes.
"Have you seen Erin?"
Travis continued to run his hands down his colt's leg as he looked up at Burke. "Not since this morning. I assumed she'd gone back to the hotel."
"Maybe. She could have taken a cab." It was logical, Burke reminded himself. There was no reason for the sick feeling in his stomach. "We came in together this morning. She usually waits."
"She was looking a little tired." Travis straightened. "She could have gone back to get some rest before tonight."
"Yeah." It made sense. She was probably soaking in a hot tub right now, thinking about the party that night. "I think I'll drive back and check on her."
"Ask her if she'll take pity on a lonely man and save a few dances for me."
"Sure."
"Burke?"
"Yeah?"
"Something wrong?"
His hands were cold. Ice-cold. "No, nothing. See you in a couple hours."
They stayed cold as he drove from the track toward the hotel. It wasn't like Erin to simply go off without a word. But then, they hadn't been exchanging a great many words lately. His fault. He accepted that with a shrug. He didn't feel right about her being there. And he hated seeing her brace herself against the gossip that would certainly swell before it diminished.
Books by Nora Roberts Page 30