Rick pulled back his attention and made an agreeable sound while Woody beamed like a proud parent. The tournament had definitely boosted his acceptance, and he did enjoy the occasional game of poker. But he wasn’t any closer to finding Victoria’s henchman, and it was frustrating to be stuck on the game floor while Eve was forced to deal with an over friendly guard.
His gaze shot back to her. He couldn’t figure this out. Her body language said she was quite content talking to Liam. Maybe she’d forgotten her aversion to uniforms. Forgotten Liam was the man who’d ordered a barricade of the track the night she’d been trying to train Tizzy. An ineffectual search too because Liam was an idiot. It had been child’s play to draw off the guards.
He snorted and looked away.
“Won’t be long now,” Woody said, misinterpreting Rick’s disgust. “The ref is calling Liverpool. They deal with all international rulings.”
“Good,” Rick said. He hadn’t intended to look back at Eve. But she was smiling and chatting, and it was obvious she was having a very good time. He grabbed his bottle of beer and took a hefty swig.
Woody’s face blanched in alarm. “What are you doing, partner? Wait until you have to drink.”
“I’m thirsty now,” Rick said.
*
The crowd silenced, every man enthralled as the Pink Viper leaned forward, flashing a spectacular display of cleavage. She shot but missed, and her cap bounced off Rick’s thigh. He snagged it, gave the woman a teasing smile, then made his return shot.
A square hit.
The Viper shrugged and reached for her bottle.
“Your groom doesn’t miss many,” Liam murmured, his mouth close to Eve’s ear. “Even with all the feminine distraction.”
“He’s clearly had lots of practice,” Eve said.
“Where did he come from? I checked his background but didn’t find much. Ashley wasn’t sure either. She said some investigator type?”
“My boss sent him,” she said, cutting off Liam’s questioning. The man had been a big help, but he’d been hanging over her all night and now she just wanted him to leave.
She edged back a step. Obviously the locals were wary of him. Even Juanita had stayed away, remaining on the opposite side of the room. It was amusing how a little makeup and a good haircut could change a man’s attitude. Liam had dropped his dogmatic attitude and was actually being helpful, even offering to dig up more of Marcus’s background. Of course, men were always drawn by feminine flash.
Except for Rick who seemed to prefer her fresh-faced with helmet hair and a horse in hand. And generally that was a positive. But a sour taste rose in her throat. Because although he wouldn’t admit it, it was also clear he preferred she were childless.
A spontaneous round of clapping pulled back her attention. “What happened,” she asked. “Is the tournament finally over?”
Liam shook his head. “No. The Vipers were supposed to drink another beer, but your groom waived it. He’s drinking for them.”
“How very kind,” she said, reluctantly glancing across the room.
Woody looked annoyed but the rest of the men were enthused, clearly enjoying the continuing flash of breasts. Someone patted Rick on the back, and a couple others gave him fist bumps.
“It’s taken me years to get to know those people,” Liam said, his voice thickening. “Yet he waltzes in and they accept him like a brother.”
“Because he doesn’t think of them as those people,” she said.
Liam gave her a narrowed look but she ignored him. Beneath Rick’s tough appearance, he was one of the kindest men she knew. He had the ability to relate to everyone. And he listened when people spoke, really listened.
But she didn’t want to discuss that with Liam. She was tired of the cheering crowd, tired of this tournament that seemed to drag on, and she was especially tired of watching the pretty Pink Viper flirt with Rick.
“I have to go and check the horses,” she said, easing toward the door. Miguel would be finished Tizzy’s massage by now, and it was quite clear Rick and Woody were going to win. They’d controlled every game from the initial toss. Woody obviously had an excellent eye for choosing caps partners.
“Want a drive home?” Liam asked.
“No, thanks,” she said, glancing around the room. Ashley was still by the bar, flirting with an outrider in a cowboy hat, but Juanita and Camila were nowhere in sight. Camila was probably missing her boyfriend, especially since he’d won the tournament last year. Drugs could really screw up lives, even innocent ones.
“Did you notice if Juanita and Camila left?” she asked.
“Juanita is hanging a poster in the men’s washroom.” Liam gave a disapproving shake of his head. “But Camila and that guy left ten minutes ago.”
“What guy? You mean Marcus? The one who’s friends with Victoria?”
“That’s right,” Liam said.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Eve strode along the horse path, relieved to escape the tournament and finally breathe in some fresh air. This route was quicker than the road, and once her eyes adjusted to the dark, it wasn’t necessary to use her phone light.
She was eager to hear Miguel’s report on Tizzy. Maybe he’d found some muscle kinks, a soreness the vets had missed. She had complete faith in the old groom. Even though he’d never had any formal training it was noticeable that whenever he worked on a horse, the animal always seemed to do better.
She could never pinpoint the change, but she’d ridden the horses he’d rubbed, and they stepped out a little further. Had a little strut to their walk. And she needed Tizzy healthy. Needed him to run like he had last year. Time was running out.
Her steps quickened just thinking of Victoria and her far-reaching tentacles. The woman would obviously do anything to discredit perceived rivals, and the fact that Marcus had been her closest friend here was troubling. The man looked a little sketchy. His eyes had been flickering between Camila and the Vipers the entire night, as if trying to decide who to take home. He’d even been studying Ashley like she was low-hanging fruit. And according to the security guard, he was more than just a creep.
Something rustled in the underbrush. Something small. At least, she told herself it was small. But thoughts of Marcus left her jumpy, and goose bumps chilled the back of her neck.
She pulled out her phone, squeezing it in her palm, all the while chiding herself for the paranoia. No matter how creepy Marcus was, Victoria wouldn’t send someone to rough her up. That would be too extreme. Victoria’s style was sneaky sabotage, not physical brutality.
Still, she kept her finger over the phone, ready to call security. Rick had programmed both his cell number and the guardhouse into her speed dial, and a guard’s Jeep could squeeze onto the horse path. Of course, Liam and his crew would take several minutes to arrive.
She checked over her shoulder, relieved she’d turned off the phone light. Her boots were silent on the dirt and if she hugged the edge of the dark path, she’d be difficult to spot. And even though the urge to bolt to the safety of her barn was overwhelming, she forced herself to move slowly. Quietly. She even paused several times to check the night sounds.
Whatever had been rustling in the bushes was now silent. Probably a rat. There were plenty of those around the track. But the darkness abruptly shifted, revealing a man-sized silhouette. Her knees buckled.
The shadow was huge. And she could hear his breathing, as if he’d been running. And now that he’d caught her, he was content to stand on the path. Waiting.
She swallowed, tasting the dryness of her throat. She could wheel and bolt to the main road. She was a fast runner and in shape. But it wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, she was tired of this harassment. Tired of Victoria causing problems for her horses, her staff, and ultimately her son.
She was tired of being afraid.
Anger blasted through her body, strengthening her legs and blowing away her fear. She launched forward, yelling and balancing for a forceful kick where it would hurt
a man the most.
“Hey,” Rick’s voice said.
She skidded to a stop, landing awkwardly in front of him, her right leg extended.
“Oh.” She sagged with relief. “It’s you. I was going to—”
“Hurt me badly.” He sounded amused. “And then I hope you were ready to run like hell.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice shaky. “If my legs worked. I was a little scared.”
“Sorry,” he said. “Thought you could see me.” And then his arms wrapped around her, and for a moment she let herself slump against his chest. He was strong, familiar and comforting, and he smelled of leather and beer and male assurance.
And perfume.
She pulled away. “Is the tournament over?”
“Yup.” He dropped his arms. “We wrapped that last game up quickly. I didn’t want you walking home alone.”
He’d left the adulation of his fans, his partner, even the Pink Vipers, to make sure she reached the barn safely. Her voice softened. “It must have been hard to leave.”
“Ashley offered to fill in for the trophy presentation.”
Eve smiled. “She’ll love that. She misses the winner’s circle.” But then she sobered. This was his moment and he deserved to enjoy the night, the entire night.
“You should go back,” she said. “This is a big event. They’ll want you there.”
“But I wanted to leave,” he said. “I don’t like crowds much. They teach us how to get along, but it’s only pretend.”
He spoke slowly, enunciating his words too carefully, and it was clear he was a little buzzed. Or maybe a lot. But the fact he was sharing information about himself was very revealing as to his sobriety.
“And you don’t like kids either, do you?” she asked.
She heard his quick intake of breath. Knew she’d hit a nerve. But it was important to know, and now was the ideal time to ask some questions.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t have slept with you if I had known…wouldn’t have let myself feel like this.”
His words were definitely slurring. Of course, he had downed a lot of beer. But drunk men told the truth. And even though it was a relief he didn’t deny their attraction, she was filled with an aching sadness. Because he spoke with such finality.
She swallowed back her despair, forcing herself to speak crisply. “Joey is the most important thing to me. The reason for everything I do.”
“As he should be,” Rick said.
They walked in silence. His steps were generally even, although he did stumble once. She automatically reached out to steady him, then pulled back her hand. It was tragic that she enjoyed his company so much. That their relationship was doomed. Because she was still intensely attracted. She’d have to find ways to avoid him. And just hope he left the track soon.
“I’ll sleep in the barn the rest of the meet,” he said. “I want you to use the RV.”
She shook her head. “I have a bed in the dorm.”
“No. Ashley told me your son is coming Sunday. The RV will make it easier. And a lot more fun for him.”
She opened, then closed her mouth. Rick was always so thoughtful. It would be much easier if she could dislike him. She didn’t try to speak again. Could only walk in the achy silence.
The barn loomed in front of them. Whinnies sounded a greeting and she lengthened her steps, eager to be with something that wanted her, even if it was only horses.
“Wait.” Rick caught her wrist. “Don’t you usually have night lights?”
She stilled. There was always a light by the door. Yet the building was totally dark. Not quiet though. Straw rustled and an impatient animal slammed the wall, the sound shattering the night. The horses should be more content. Miguel would have filled their hay nets.
“Stay behind me.” Rick shifted forward so swiftly he was almost ten feet away before she could hurry after him.
He paused in the doorway, his head bent.
“What is it?” she asked, bumping into him.
She peered around, straining to see. Recognized Miguel’s wiry shape sprawled in the aisle the same time as she absorbed the harsh reek of booze.
“Oh, no.” She pushed past Rick and sank to the floor.
Miguel’s eyes were closed but he clutched an empty bottle of tequila and wore a beatific smile.
Rick switched on the aisle lights then kneeled down and checked Miguel’s vitals.
“Just drunk,” he said, easing the groom onto his side. “I’ll get a blanket from the RV. He’ll be all right once he sleeps it off.”
But when Rick looked at her, his expression reflected her concern. Miguel was an alcoholic and while it was good to be optimistic, this was definitely a setback.
“He was doing so well,” she said, prying the bottle from Miguel’s hands. “It’s been eight months since his last drink. And he avoids any place with liquor. Someone must have brought him this.”
“I’m quite sure someone did.” Rick pointed at the surveillance camera, now ripped from the ceiling. “Someone who didn’t want Tizzy to have the massage.”
“But that’s despicable.” She jerked to her feet, the bottle clenched in her fist. “Victoria can’t play with Miguel’s life, just to hurt me. I’m calling Jackson right now. I don’t care if I’m fired.”
“Hang on,” Rick said. “Did Victoria even know about the massage? And maybe Miguel rubbed the horse before he started drinking.”
Eve looked at Tizzy and the blue cooler still folded in front of his stall. “No,” she said. “Miguel would have blanketed him afterwards. Would have wanted to keep his muscles warm.”
She glanced down the aisle at the row of empty hay nets. “And he would have fed the horses. Banjo is a slow eater and even his hay is gone. That tequila must have been dropped off right after Ashley and I left with Juanita.”
Rick nodded, his eyes on her face. He didn’t look at all drunk now, just extremely focused. “And did Victoria or Jackson know about the massage?” he asked.
Eve rubbed her forehead. Jackson always hired professional therapists and then charged the owners on their monthly bills. She and Ashley only knew about Miguel’s magic because they rode the horses and had felt the difference.
“Who else knew?” Rick asked, his voice steely.
She lowered her arm, unable to speak.
“Who knew?” His tone softened. And it was the gentleness in his voice that helped her say the unimaginable.
“Only Ashley,” she said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Eve rolled onto her back, punched a pillow beneath her head, and stared through the dark skylight. Despite the comfort of the RV, it was impossible to sleep. Had Ashley been responsible for all the stable’s misfortunes? And if so, why? It didn’t make sense.
She reached for her phone and checked the time.
Just after midnight. Ashley might still be up, celebrating with the others at the rec hall. It was tempting to walk over now and confront her. But Ashley and Victoria conspiring together? The thought made her stomach lurch.
She dropped the phone back on the bedside table, feeling like her entire world had tilted. She didn’t trust many people. But she’d trusted Ashley. And how did Marcus fit into this? Ashley hadn’t seemed to know the man. She’d chatted with Eve and Liam and then an outrider, before moving closer to the wagering board and enthusiastically cheering on the players. Marcus had been talking with Camila, on the other side of the room.
Gravel crunched. She jackknifed up, straining to listen. Not a car but someone was definitely walking along the road. And moving clumsily.
She crawled over the bed to the window and peered through the blind. There was so much noise now, it could be two people. And they were definitely heading toward the RV.
Coming for her.
She rolled off the bed and rushed down the hall, cold with fear. The door wasn’t even locked. She’d thought Rick might decide to sleep in the spare bedroom, instead of the barn, or that he might wan
t to make an early morning coffee after his night of drinking. Or that…he might just want to come in.
Her fingers fumbled to turn the lock. It would be close. Already boots bumped on the step. She could hear breathing, a feminine giggle.
Ashley?
She stiffened, then yanked open the door, ready to confront her.
A woman in a tiny pink top swayed on the step. “Where’s Rick?” she asked, with a breathy giggle.
Eve closed her eyes, overcome with relief. Not Ashley or any of Victoria’s goons. Just a Pink Viper—a good rider in the morning, a harmless drunk at night. And then another emotion filled her. One not so pleasant.
“Rick’s not here,” she said.
“Oh.” The woman leaned sideways, peering past Eve as if expecting him to materialize. “Where does he sleep?”
“Not here,” Eve said.
“In the barn?” The woman swayed, flattening one hand on the wall for support. Blue ink covered her wrist, the sloppy numbers indecipherable. “Okay. I’ll go there.” She paused, then tilted her head, staring at Eve with eyes that matched the color of her hot pink top. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Eve squeezed the door knob. Rick’s blatant masculinity would appeal to many women and no doubt he’d enjoyed more than his fair share of booty calls. But she did mind. She minded very much. On the other hand, their fledgling relationship was over. And she had no right to interfere in his personal affairs.
“Just don’t disturb the horses,” she said. Then she pulled the door shut.
She slipped back into bed, numb and cold and alone. At least it hadn’t been Ashley, sabotaging something in the barn. That was a positive. But she tugged the pillow over her head, making sure to cover both ears. She didn’t want to hear the woman’s satisfied groans. Because she knew just how wonderfully Rick could satisfy a woman.
She had the pillow in good position, strategically clamped over her head, but only five minutes later the door clicked again. The woman was back.
Eve sat up, groaning. “Are you lost?” she muttered. “Check the third stall from the end.”
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