“They won’t catch me,” he said.
She looked at him more carefully, her gaze traveling from his head to his boots, absorbing him with feminine awareness. “Probably not,” she said, and her voice sounded a little husky, a little more promising.
“I’ll draw them off. You get your horse home.” He leaned closer, sensing the new vibration in the air. “And then I’ll come back and see you on Saturday. Maybe we could have dinner? Or find something else we’d both like to do...”
She’d been leaning forward, closer to his face, but abruptly straightened. Even the horse raised his head and turned all indignant. “Or you won’t draw them off?” she asked. “You expect some sort of payment?”
“Not at all,” he said. “I’ll get you off the track, no strings. But I will be around on Saturday. And I would like to see you again.”
She scanned his face, still wary, but after a moment her shoulders softened. “All right,” she said. “I’d like that too. So you better not get caught.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Tell me more.” Ashley swung the bucket with such excitement that water splashed Eve’s leg. “Was he on a bike or a car? The guards are so pissed.”
She adjusted Tizzy’s bucket then turned back toward Eve. “When I stopped at the security booth this morning, everyone was complaining about being up all night. They said two guys were stunting in the parking lot, but they couldn’t catch anyone.”
Eve rocked back on her heels, swept with relief. She’d worried all night about her unlikely savior. The security Jeeps had fled their posts at the first taunting roar of his engine. Then it had been simple to ride Tizzy through the unmanned gap and return to the barn. She hadn’t told Ashley and Miguel many details—just that someone had kindly offered to create a diversion.
“Liam isn’t even certain about the vehicle,” Ashley went on. “The driver seemed to know where all the security cams were. But Liam asked where you were last night. And if you trained a black horse.”
Eve studied Tizzy who was tugging at his hay, seeming none the worse for last night’s escapade. Fortunately, bay horses often appeared black. She wasn’t too worried about Liam and the security guards. It had been a dark night and she’d been wearing a helmet and vest. Identity would be hard to prove.
“He asked a lot of other questions,” Ashley went on, “like if we were able to replace our bridles. And why Miguel and I were looking for my wallet so late last night. He’s definitely suspicious.”
Eve shrugged. She didn’t want her staff fretting. It was a trainer’s job to absorb the worry. She gave Ashley a grateful smile. “Thanks for your warning. If I didn’t see the flashlight and hear you talking, I would have ridden right into them.”
Ashley’s forehead wrinkled. “It was like they were expecting us.”
“We filed a report,” Eve said. “Obviously they know our bridles were stolen.”
She tugged the water hose in a tight coil and gave a regretful sigh. She’d escaped this time, but it would be too risky to ride again at night. Especially if the guards were watching. And she didn’t have enough money to buy replacement tack.
“We’re going to have to leave, aren’t we?” Ashley asked. “Liam thinks I might be able to find a job here. Catching urine. Just until I have the baby. After that I can go back to Santa Anita and find jockey work.” She jammed a tendril of hair behind her ear and peeked at Eve, as if gauging her reaction.
“That’s great.” Eve gripped the water hose with both hands. Her training career was imploding before it even began. But a pee catcher’s job would be perfect for Ashley. It mainly consisted of holding a container on the end of a long stick and gathering a horse’s urine for drug testing. Best of all, the Thoroughbreds were tired and relaxed after a race so it was relatively safe.
At least Ashley would have a job. It was clear Victoria wanted all three of them gone: Ashley because she was pregnant, Miguel because he was old, and Eve because she was friends with Jackson.
She swallowed, trying to gather a more encouraging response. “You should probably grab that job. But I’ll sure miss you.”
“Me too,” Ashley said glumly. “There’s so much more you can teach me about riding. If only they hadn’t stolen our bridles. That was the lowest. Guess the women want the sand area to themselves.”
“I can’t believe it was the women,” Eve said, fighting her sense of betrayal.
“But I saw someone creeping around in the woods earlier, and everyone knows the locals don’t like newcomers. Liam says we should stay away from them. Luckily I locked the feed and tack rooms last night.”
“Very lucky,” Eve said dryly, “considering that’s your job.”
“Yes, but I was up late helping you escape the guards.” Ashley covered her mouth and gave a theatrical yawn. “So of course I’m extra tired this morning.”
“Go on back to the dorm,” Eve said. “It’s still dark, and I can’t ride. You can catch up on your sleep.”
“Awesome!” Ashley didn’t need a second invitation. She dropped her bucket, turned and hurried down the aisle. “You’re the best boss ever,” she called over her shoulder before disappearing into the dark.
Eve finished coiling the hose, appreciating the break from Ashley’s chatter. She was grateful the guards hadn’t caught her bike rider, and was a little surprised with her impulsive agreement to meet on Saturday. But there was something appealing about him and she couldn’t deny the flare of attraction. She’d felt the same way when she first met Joey’s dad, five years earlier at jockey school.
She walked down the aisle, checking each animal, making sure they were all watered and happily chewing hay. They required grooming and stalls needed to be cleaned. However, the hectic morning schedule was vastly altered now that no horses could be exercised. It felt all wrong to have downtime in the early morning, like her life was out of sync.
She trudged back to the entrance, dropped onto a chair by the door and checked her phone. Jackson hadn’t answered any of her texts. No surprise there. But Victoria had replied for him: If you don’t race by Sunday, horses will be shipped home.
She dropped her head in her hands, trying to push away the beginning of a headache. Maybe she should give up and return to Santa Anita. At least she’d be with Joey. A part of her felt bereft without him. She missed his hugs, his gap-toothed smile, the trusting way he clutched her hand. But he’d be with Scott and Megan this weekend—his doting aunt and uncle who never had time or money problems. And who were eager to be a bigger part of his life.
Maybe too eager.
Fear banded her chest, matching the pain pulsing in her forehead. If they realized she hadn’t had a paycheck in four months, they’d offer her money. And she hated accepting charity. Hated that she couldn’t give Joey as much as they could.
A trainer’s job had seemed perfect. Earning a percentage of a horse’s winnings, while keeping both feet safely on the ground, was better for a mom. She’d thought the earnings would be more dependable, especially after a rash of injuries stopped her from race riding. But training was challenging too, especially when she had no cash cushion for unforeseen events—like stolen car batteries and bits and bridles.
She wasn’t inclined toward self-pity, but her usual confidence was shaken. The only bright light was that she hadn’t been caught last night, thanks to the big biker with the sexy voice and irreverent laugh. She’d always felt more comfortable with men who weren’t afraid to bend the rules, unlike Ashley who gravitated to the lily-white security guards, guys in crisp khaki uniforms who freaked out over a little riding curfew.
Movement flickered by the trees. She quit analyzing her taste in men, and jerked forward in the chair. Someone was definitely out there, indecipherable in the predawn. But a second shadow darkened the sand pit. And another. Then three more.
For a second, she simply stared, too stunned to move. So Ashley was correct. It was the locals who were stealing. She couldn’t tell if they were men or women but
they were definitely working as a group. Trying to drive her away. And their theft had tanked her career.
Adrenaline shot through her, fueled by white-hot fury. She jerked from the chair, too angry to be afraid. Grabbed a pitchfork and charged toward the picnic tables.
“Buenas dias, princesa,” someone called. A woman’s voice. And shockingly familiar.
“Juanita?” Her steps faltered. She never would have suspected the older woman was linked to the thieves. Of all the ladies who gathered in the afternoon, she had become closest to Juanita. Even though they were both reserved, they’d already shared a few confidences. Eve had even talked about her son—something she rarely did around the track—and confided how she hoped to bring Joey here to visit.
Helplessness replaced her anger and her fingers loosened around the wooden handle. No way could she report Juanita and her band of women. Some of them didn’t even have green cards. A conviction could wreck their lives. And it wouldn’t recover the missing bridles. No doubt, the tack had already been flipped.
“We didn’t want you to see us,” Juanita said.
“I bet not.” Eve jammed the pitchfork into the ground, her shoulders sagging.
“Even my cousin helped,” Juanita went on. “In Guadalajara, he worked with metal. If this doesn’t work for your devil horse, he’ll make you another.”
“Devil horse?” Eve tilted her head. “You mean Stinger?”
“Si,” Juanita said, excited now and reverting to Spanish. “We hope it’s enough.” She stepped sideways and gestured at the picnic tables.
Eve blinked.
Bridle parts covered both tables. Countless pieces of leather and nylon and metal buckles, enough to make twenty bridles. The leather was cracked and worn, the buckles discolored, but every piece was precious.
Her knees caved and she leaned against the pitchfork, unable to move or speak, stunned by their thoughtfulness. The women must have tramped around for hours, collecting discards from every single shedrow.
“Is it okay?” Juanita asked.
And then Eve was able to move. She shot forward, clasping Juanita with arms that shook.
“Perfecto,” she said, her throat impossibly thick. “Muchas gracias.” She hugged each woman in turn, the delight on their faces almost matching her own gratitude.
Even Camila cracked a rare smile. “I collected the blue reins,” she said.
“Now maybe you’ll be able to ride your horses today,” Juanita said, her eyes hopeful. “Then you can stay and race at our track.”
Eve gave an excited nod, already fingering the mixture of leather and nylon. She’d piece together a bridle now, then groom and saddle the first horse. Miguel could rouse Ashley, and they could tack up the others while she rode. Her barn was back in business.
The women smiled and drifted away, heading back to work as silently as they’d appeared. But they seemed to carry themselves a little taller, their shoulders a little more square.
And even though she was eager to assemble a bridle, her fingers shook far too much to manage any buckles. She sat at the table long after the last woman disappeared, simply savoring their unexpected gift and blinking back her grateful tears.
CHAPTER TEN
Rick parked his motorcycle by a tired Honda Civic, its red roof bleached from too many years in the sun. He pulled off his gloves and helmet, placing them on his seat, all the while absorbing every detail of the little horse barn.
According to Scott Taylor’s file, the barn was leased to the racetrack by a disinterested farmer. It was well built but different from typical shedrows, the building more square than long, with only one aisle and a single entrance.
A chain link fence ran behind the barn, disappearing into a tall stand of trees. The fence looked solid, with three strands of imposing barbed wire stretched along the top. The barn was a considerable hike from the other shedrows though, as well as the dorms. Certainly at night it would be vulnerable, and its isolation probably made it unpopular for the guards to patrol.
No doubt though, the horses loved this spot. There was plenty of grass for grazing along with an enclosed sandpit where they could be turned out for a roll. Further back, a stately oak tree shaded a second unfenced pile of sand. An empty hammock drifted in the morning breeze, and two picnic tables were strewn with pieces of tack. But it was strangely quiet. Birds chirped and a curious bay horse stuck his head out the barn window. Other than that, there was no movement.
Rick’s mouth flattened with disapproval. This woman didn’t seem very committed. Race barns were always hectic in the morning. It was odd that a man like Scott Taylor would tolerate incompetence, although having a relative as a trainer explained a lot. Perhaps the bridles hadn’t really been stolen, and it was simply an excuse not to gallop.
He dragged a hand over his jaw, trying to calculate a low-level trainer’s salary. Usually it was a base price per horse with approximately ten percent of the winnings. Definitely purse money was a keystone of earnings, so it was critical to have your horses racing—and finishing in the money. But horses didn’t run well if they weren’t exercised.
He shook his head with fresh irritation. This wasn’t just laziness. Running horses that weren’t in shape was abusive. And he had to stay here for a month. Damn you, Scott.
Not only was this a dead boring assignment but it would be hard to hide his aversion. And he needed to stay busy. Needed to keep his body and mind tired. If it weren’t for his intent to track down the little rider from last night, he’d quit Scott Taylor’s agency right now.
He strode into the barn, hot and irritated. At least the building was shaded. Each stall had a window, and there was a pleasant breeze. He pulled in a breath, his steps slowing as he absorbed the coolness, the primal smells, the refreshing company of animals.
He gave an appreciative sniff. It had been a decade since he’d moved to LA, and the smell of hay and horse surprised him with its welcome, like an old friend he hadn’t realized he missed. Two horses poked their heads over their stall doors—a friendly gray and a big-headed chestnut who flattened his ears in warning.
He avoided the aggressive chestnut and checked the gray’s stall. The water bucket was full but manure soiled the straw. He grimaced and walked down the aisle, calling out a greeting.
However, the barn was devoid of humans. There was no tack or feed in sight, although two doors at the far end were padlocked. Next to the locked doors was an empty stall that contained a rickety card table and a green army cot. No obvious drugs or alcohol. A container of vitamins sat on the table alongside a wrinkled condition book that listed upcoming races.
He picked up the container of vitamins and checked the label. They were clearly vitamins—prenatal, if the label could be believed. He returned it to the table and stepped back into the aisle.
The gray tossed his head and pawed, eager to escape his stall.
Rick paused to pat the horse. “Wish I could help you, buddy… His words trailed off in a rush of sympathy when he spotted the ragged cut on the horse’s back. It was pink and puckered. The wound was healing now but it must have been painful. Stabled horses didn’t generally receive that type of injury. Maybe it had been an ill-fitting saddle. Something any competent trainer would notice long before such damage.
He scratched the gray’s jaw a little harder. If he ever had the privilege to own a racehorse again, he’d never entrust it to someone like Scott’s trainer. Little wonder the woman was being robbed. There was no staff around, at a time when every other barn bustled.
He walked outside, kicked the chair out from the wall and sat.
Five days—he’d give Scott until Saturday. He’d tighten up this barn, track down the bridle thieves, and then insist on returning to the streets for some real work. He didn’t want to be stuck babysitting, and he certainly didn’t need a vacation. He had no desire to rejoin polite society. Didn’t mean there was anything wrong with his head.
The highlight here would be going to the races on Saturd
ay and meeting up with his intriguing night rider. She was the only appeal. It had been awhile since he’d been so interested in a woman. Maybe he’d stay until Monday before splitting. Because the air last night had definitely been crackling.
An orange cat rubbed against his boot, then jumped up and settled on his lap. He stiffened, then realized it wasn’t necessary to shoo it away. Mad Dog wasn’t around, looking for cats to toss to his pit bulls.
The cat started purring even before he dragged a finger over its ragged ear. Behind him, horses contentedly chewed hay. It was rather peaceful. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a chore to take some time off. A few days though, not much. Just to have a little break when there was no need to worry about a knife sliding between his ribs. But he’d call Scott tonight, make sure the man understood there was no way he was staying past Monday.
He stretched out his legs and leaned back, taking care not to jostle the cat. The poor thing was just looking for a safe place to sleep. And he could certainly provide that.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The thud of hooves jerked Rick awake. He straightened in the chair, surprised he’d napped. He hadn’t even noticed when the cat left.
He was even more shocked by the gaudy bridle on the approaching horse. Part nylon, part leather, in colors ranging from faded blue to bright green. With a neon pink brow band.
He leaned forward and adjusted his sunglasses.
“A little blinding, right?” The rider laughed, a tinkling familiar laugh. “Everyone on the track was snickering, but the outriders had no real reason to kick me off.” She glanced at his motorcycle. “I’m glad to see you—thanks for the diversion last night. But this is only Tuesday…?”
Rick rose, blinking. He was accustomed to thinking fast on his feet. His life often depended on it. But his usual smoothness seemed to have vanished. He hadn’t expected to see her until Saturday. In the daylight, her attractiveness was even more apparent. Not a traditional beauty but rather exotic, with flashing dark eyes, a sexy mouth and interesting curves that couldn’t be concealed by the protective vest.
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