She already knew that. The mess with Gavin Shaw had proved it. Even so, she protested, “I’m an adult, entitled to make my own mistakes.”
“Not when your life is on the line.”
He appeared so fierce he made her stomach clench. And yet, she longed to feel his arms around her.
But when he took a step toward her, she panicked. “Don’t—”
But he did. He cut off her protest by kissing her. Ignoring the odd taste of dirt on her lips, he tried to show her that she wasn’t alone.
At first stiff in his arms, she softened and leaned into him. And while she didn’t curl her arms around his neck as he might like, she did grab his shirtfront with both hands. Her tension came from something more dangerous than attraction, but perhaps she was trying to blot out one peril with the other.
Curran concentrated on calming her.
Conjuring images of a horse pasture filled with spring flowers, he held her hand and ran. Free of the cane, her knee and spirit healed, she ran with him.
Her tension eased and her grip on his clothing loosened, so he let himself back into the now.
Getting lost in each other out here where they were prey wouldn’t be wise, so Curran ended the kiss, gently put her from him and indicated the passenger seat of his car.
“What did you just do to me?” she demanded breathlessly.
“Get in, Sheena.”
Though her jaw tightened, she slid in without protest. Probably too much of an effort for her to fight him, Curran decided. Undoubtedly she would regain her sometimes savage tongue on the way back to the house.
Until then, he intended to press his advantage. “How did you get this message about the mare getting loose?”
“One of the farm owners passed it on at the meeting. This particular mare had gotten loose too many times for me not to believe it.”
“So, someone knew that and used it to get you out here alone. And from the looks of you…” He clenched his jaw. “What happened?”
For a moment, Curran thought she wouldn’t answer. That he would have to add insult to injury to make her talk.
Then she said, “Someone just tried to kill me.”
“Kill.” His blood ran cold at her choice of words. “You’ll be certain of that?”
“I’m sure someone was shooting at me. I fell down the ravine and I could hear him up above. At one point, he stood there looking down on me while I pretended to be dead. So, yes, I gathered that was his purpose.”
“He, who?”
“I don’t know.”
Curran was talking more to himself than to her, when he said, “What could you possibly have done to make someone try to kill you?”
“Don’t you think I asked myself the same question?”
“And the answer…?”
“I’m not sure.”
At least that was a step away from I don’t know, he thought as they pulled into the main drive. Not that she seemed in the mood to clarify.
Belle was waiting for them, panic written all over her face. She rushed out of the house and toward the car.
“I want to go to your place to clean up,” Jane murmured, straightening her hair. “I don’t want to scare her or Susan.”
Belle was plenty frightened already, Curran thought as Jane rolled down her window.
“Jane, dear, you’re all right.”
“Of course I am, Nani.” Jane reached out and patted her grandmother’s hand. “You really didn’t have to send in the cavalry. I’m fine, I promise.”
“But…why would someone call you out on a wild-goose chase at night?”
“Bad sense of humor?”
Curran could see that Belle didn’t buy it, but he was certain she knew challenging her granddaughter would get her nowhere.
“Listen, Nani, I’ll be back to the house late. Curran and I have some strategies we want to discuss.”
Belle looked to Curran.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her,” he promised.
“All right, then.”
Belle backed off, but Curran knew she watched after them as he pulled around the main house toward his quarters. Once there, he parked, then helped Jane out of the car and into the house.
When he turned on the kitchen lights, he got his first really good look at her. “You look as if you were mud wrestling.”
“I imagine. I thought maybe I could shower and wash my clothes here so Nani doesn’t see me like this.”
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?”
“She’s worried enough as it is. Plus, I don’t even know the truth.”
“I believe you do. Or at least part of it.” Wondering what it would take to get her to open up to him, he asked, “Can you make it up the stairs to the bath?”
“I’ll make it,” she said, her voice tight.
“There’s a robe on the back of the door. Meanwhile, can I get you something to drink?”
“Tea would be nice.”
“Tea, then.” He watched her limp toward the doorway. “How badly did you injure your knee?”
Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “I think the pain is far greater than any actual damage.”
“Perhaps I ought to take a look at it. I’ve been doctoring animals since I was a lad.” He couldn’t resist adding, “And I do know a thing or two about a woman’s body parts.”
Despite the trauma she’d just been through, a smile trembled on her lips. “I’m sure you do.”
Curran’s groin tightened. He would like to be more familiar with her body parts and he was certain the thought had occurred to her, as well. As elegant as any Thoroughbred, she had an earthly quality that she tried to hide. But he recognized it, was drawn to it. Was drawn to her with her beautiful amber eyes that mesmerized him.
His grandmother’s legacy might well be coming true, he realized, but now was not the time for such intimacies. Now the danger part consumed him, and he would have the truth before Jane left the guest house for her own bed.
Chapter Nine
Jane let the shower pour down on her until the hot water was exhausted. She shut down the faucet handles and grabbed a bath towel. No choice but to face the music, she thought, fighting a growing sense of dread.
Curran’s scent clung to his bathrobe and whispered along her flesh as she slipped into it. Wearing a man’s robe was about as intimate as one could get, other than indulging in the act itself.
She shook away the seductive thought before it could fully develop. Curran wasn’t for her, and that kind of speculation would only land her in more trouble. Obviously, she was already in over her head.
From what direction the current danger came, she had no clue. If only she could be certain as to why, Jane thought, she might be able to figure out who.
She ran a comb through her damp hair, gathered up her dirty clothes and made her way back downstairs, taking one step at a time, hanging on to the banister for dear life. It suddenly occurred to her that losing her cane meant that Nani would want to know how.
“Your tea is ready.”
The mingle of herbs and spices in the air greeted her as she touched down to the foyer, as did Curran, who stood in the doorway to the living room. Rather, he nearly filled it, she realized with a thrill. He leaned against the jamb looking more irresistible than should be allowed for a woman’s peace of mind. His stance was nonchalant, as was the splash of dark hair that tumbled over his forehead. His right cheek dimpled in a smile.
Realizing she had forgotten to breathe for a moment, Jane gulped in some air and said, “I just need to throw these clothes in the wash.”
“I can do that.”
Curran straightened and started for her, but Jane put out a hand to keep him back.
“No, please. Stay where you are. I—I mean, I’ll only be a moment.”
Unfortunately for her, after that she would have no escape for more than an hour, until her clothes were ready. Hoping to speed up things, she put them on an abbreviated wash and sin
gle rinse, then with a sense of fate there was no escaping, joined Curran in the living room.
He’d thoughtfully set out a full teacup on the table next to the armchair with the most support, making it easier for her to sit and rise.
She’d barely settled herself in and taken a sip of tea when he said, “Don’t you think it’s time someone other than you and Finn knew the whole truth? From the beginning?”
Dressed in only his robe, she felt all too vulnerable and he was clearly pressing his advantage. She could hardly blame him, Jane thought with a sigh of resignation. And considering how involved Curran had become, he deserved all the weapons he could gather in his arsenal if he were not only to bring Finn around, but protect the horse, as well.
Besides, maybe someone else’s knowing would make things easier on her.
“I assume my grandmother has filled you in on why I bought Finn mac Cumhail.”
“To save Grantham Acres, yes.”
“I’m not trying to pass the blame, but I actually got the idea from someone else.”
“Who?”
This was the hard part—admitting how foolish she had been. She stirred a lump of sugar into her tea and sipped it. Anything to put off the inevitable. Curran patiently waited until she was ready.
Unable to avoid the truth any longer, she said, “He was an Irish trainer named Gavin Shaw.”
“Shaw.” Curran’s inflection sounded odd as he echoed the man’s name. “I know him.”
Her pulse jagged, though she wasn’t really surprised. Thoroughbred horse racing was a fairly small community and both men were from a tiny country. Still, she’d been hoping he might not even have met Gavin.
“Did you know him well?” she asked.
“For years, but we were no kith ’n kin.”
Jane took a deep breath and launched into the story she’d been holding close.
“We met here in Kentucky last fall at the Keeneland meet. Gavin learned of our money problems and he suggested that with the right stud…”
She swallowed hard. Even though she’d turned everything over in her mind a thousand times, she could hardly fathom she’d brought this disaster on herself.
“Shaw recommended Finn?” Curran asked.
“He called me from Ireland last spring and told me about the stallion who was the perfect solution. The owner was about to retire Finn, but then thought he might make more money on his sale here in the United States, so he entered him into a Grade I race at Belmont. Gavin thought I could get a jump on the competition if I came to New York and expressed my interest in Finn personally before the race. He also said that he would be in New York, that he had rented a horse farm in the Hudson Valley for a few months.”
“So he offered to make the arrangements.”
“Yes.”
She stopped there. How much did Curran really need? Jane wondered.
“Obviously, you agreed.”
“To my everlasting regret.” She decided there were some details he could do without. “He was renting a farm in the Hudson Valley. That’s where we took Finn after I bought him. We were ready to come back to Grantham Acres in two days. But that night, my sleep was broken by terrified squeals coming from a distance.”
“Finn.”
She nodded. “I went out to the barn and then to the pasture. Finn was tied to a fence post and rearing to defend himself against Gavin, who was wielding that length of pipe. I was horrified.” Even with her eyes open, she could see his distorted features as clearly as if they were before her now. “How could he do such a thing? I tried to stop him. But he was crazed himself that night. Drunk. Desperate…”
“And you were injured trying to protect Finn,” Curran said. “You threatened to ruin Shaw and he turned on you. He would have killed you to protect his reputation. That’s it, isn’t it? So you defended yourself. How?”
“With a pitchfork,” she whispered, the vivid images continuing to flood her. “I thought it would keep him back…but the next thing I knew, he was staggering away from me and pulling the tines from his gut. So much blood. He tried to hold it in, but it squished through his fingers.” She shuddered at the memory. “He fell back against the fencing and it gave under his weight. We were on a bluff, high over the Hudson River. His scream as he fell still echoes through my head.”
Curran didn’t speak and Jane shook inside. Would he condemn her now? Even as she had condemned herself every day since the horror had happened?
But all he asked was, “What did you do then?”
“Nothing. I couldn’t do anything. I tried to get up, but my knee wouldn’t support me. And the pain…I don’t know how long I lay there, hearing screams over and over in my mind. Finn’s. Gavin’s. My own. Eventually Timothy Brady found me. He took care of everything. The horse…me…the authorities.”
“Timothy Brady,” Curran echoed, a start of surprise in his tone. “He works for Holt Easterling now.”
“I know. I saw him at the doctor’s office this morning. So strange,” she murmured. “If Gavin had not betrayed us, Timothy would be working to ready Finn for the Classic. Instead, he’s working against us.”
“An interesting way to put it,” Curran mused.
Getting his point, she said, “No, I didn’t mean it that way!”
“Why not? How do you know Brady wasn’t out there taking shots at you tonight?”
“Because he helped me. He even brought the police to the emergency room.”
She could still see them, too, one pacing the hallway, the other taking her story.
“You’ll not be under any charges, I assume.”
“After investigating, the authorities were satisfied with my story, although they didn’t find Gavin. The current must have pulled his body miles downriver. Without a body…well, Gavin was considered missing rather than dead. They told me they would keep up the search. I was to return to Kentucky as planned with Finn and they would contact me with further developments.”
“But they never did.”
“No.”
“Odd. Why would the authorities have encouraged you to leave the area without a more complete investigation?”
“I’m sure the investigation is continuing.”
“But it has been months and they haven’t even contacted you. Something isn’t right here, Jane. We both know that after what happened to you tonight. There’s more to this story than you realize. It sounds as if there’s a cover-up going on.”
He had a point, one she hadn’t wanted to examine too closely. Yet she had to. Her life might really be on the line.
“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone the truth?” he asked. “Don’t you think Belle deserves it?”
“Has anyone ever died because of you?” she snapped. “Gavin is a burden on my soul and always will be. The Hudson Valley police kept the story hushed, away from the media, for which I am very grateful. Why would I want to perpetuate it?”
“So, only a few people know what happened. You. The authorities. Timothy Brady.”
“And now you.” She sighed. “Maybe I handled this whole thing wrong. And maybe the authorities did, too. If I had stood trial…if I had been judged and absolved by my peers…then maybe I could be free of this nightmare.”
“There’s something to that,” Curran said. “So you won’t be objecting to bringing in the authorities now. Here.”
“No!”
His visage darkened. “Jane, you are not taking this seriously enough. Tonight, at best, someone was playing a deadly game with you. You could have been shot and killed.”
“But I wasn’t. And what if I was mistaken?”
“Let the authorities investigate.”
“I can’t do it, Curran, not yet,” she insisted. “Bringing in the authorities too soon might warn off the guilty one.”
“Good, then you’ll be safe.”
“Not good! I need to know for sure.” She needed the truth about why Gavin duped her. “Besides, I wasn’t really hurt. Not this time.”
; “Next time you could be dead. You need the right people on your side,” Curran continued. “People—police—who know you and care about you.”
“But the local police won’t take me seriously, not without some kind of proof. After all, everyone knows I came back to Grantham Acres not quite right…And then word will get around and everyone will know what a fool I was. Please, Curran.” Jane took another sip from her cup, but the tea had grown cold and bitter. “When I lay in that ravine, I wondered who could possibly want me dead, and why Gavin wanted Finn dead in the first place. What would he have gained? He wasn’t a cruel man. I would swear his violence that night was against his nature.”
“I never found him to be cruel with his Thoroughbreds, either,” Curran admitted.
“Then why?” Jane asked, despair threatening to overwhelm her. “Could someone have forced him to it? Someone who believes I now know the whole truth when I really don’t know anything? What if there was someone else involved?”
“A partner.”
“Or employer.”
Thoughtful, Curran said, “It won’t be difficult to find out what owners Shaw worked for in the past year. I’ll get Ned on it in the morning.”
“Why would another owner want to set me up?” Jane asked.
Again Curran took a moment before saying, “I don’t have all the answers, but if you’re determined to be fighting me over bringing in the local authorities, then, all right, we’ll figure it out together.”
That sounded good, but could she believe in him, especially when he had such power over her?
Gripping the arms of her chair, she demanded, “Tell me what you did to me out in the back acres.” When Curran didn’t immediately answer, she said, “I gave you what you wanted to know.”
Well, almost all of it, she silently added.
Curran nodded. “What is it you sensed?”
Immediately the images and emotions flowed through her again, the memory dreamlike.
A pasture…flowers…his holding her hand and them running…her knee healed and spirit soaring…
“A sense of calmness. Freedom. I could move normally. Think normally. With you.” Dreamlike now, but what if it turned into another nightmare. “What have you done to me, Curran? What magic do you keep using on me?”
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