The Gift Horse

by Jami Davenport

  Carson regarded the mare with suspicion. She eyed him with big doe eyes and moved closer. Oh, no, she wasn’t wiping horse slobber all over him again. He backed up, and the mare followed until she pinned him in a corner. Carson looked to Sam for help. She stood with her back to him. He couldn’t hear Juan’s words but his exaggerated gestures told him more than he needed to know.

  After a few more minutes of enthusiastic conversation, Juan stomped off. Seconds later a tractor tore down the driveway, dust billowing in its wake. Sam watched until the last of the dust disappeared and turned to face him.

  “Who the hell was that?”

  “He’s the barn manager.”

  “Barn manager? Him?” Carson pointed in the direction Juan had gone. “He should be fired.”

  “Oh, yeah? Really? Well, if you think that maybe you should try firing him.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I can’t fire him. He won’t leave.”

  “What kind of a business are you running here?”

  “None of your damn concern.” Sam’s eyes flashed fire. He should have been ignited on the spot. Unfortunately, it ignited another part of his anatomy.

  “Like hell it isn’t. My family owns this place and my horse’s welfare is at stake. Besides the man was quite insolent, and he was behaving suspiciously.”

  “Of course he was. You interrupted his surveillance, and he takes his work very seriously.”

  “His surveillance? Is he some kind of undercover cop?”

  Sam shrugged. “How the hell would I know? Do you think he’d tell me something like that if he was undercover?”

  Why did he get the feeling she was toying with him? “He was hiding in a stall. What was I to think?”

  “He always behaves like that. So what, he does his job. You, on the other hand, are an interfering idiot.”

  “Excuse me?” Carson jammed his fists on his hips and assumed a belligerent position. It was a difficult stance to assume with a horse’s nose affixed to his chest.

  “You heard me.”

  “I was hoping I didn’t.”

  “But you did, pretty boy.” Sam angled toward him and stuck her chin out in stubborn defiance.

  Someday he’d find a way to make her quit calling him that. “Is it idiotic to expect a person to do his job?”

  “He does do his job. He just has some interesting quirks.”

  “No shit.” Carson frowned. His hands fell to his sides. He kept a wary eye on the mare as she bumped him with her nose.

  “He’s the best barn manager this place can afford.”

  “Did my brother hire him?” Gabbie nibbled on his collar, wadding most of it in her large mouth.

  “On my recommendation.”

  “I assumed he was a criminal or some unsavory type by his behavior.”

  “Criminal? Are you nuts?” Her blood pressure rose with her temper. For once, Carson was grateful that the horse’s large body shielded him from harm.

  “Well, we really should know if he’s acting in an official capacity or what.” Carson didn’t buy that Juan was a cop or an agent of some kind, but he wasn’t willing to completely discount the possibility either.

  “Butt out of my business. Don’t you have something else to do? Like a tract of land to rape and pillage? A bunch of factory workers to lay off or loyal employees to give the boot without a retirement package? How about a virgin to deflower?”

  Carson rubbed his chin. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that.” He knew he shouldn’t be toying with her. Surely, he’d been possessed by some demon. Like an enraged lioness, she poised for the kill.

  “You stupid, rich, spoiled, arrogant, obnoxious, self-absorbed, ignorant...” Her chest rose and fell in indignation, distracting him. Damn.

  He jerked his eyes back to her face. “What’s the matter? Running out of adjectives?” Now he’d done it.

  She was primed for battle like a marine in a foxhole with the enemy in his sights.

  If he wanted to live, he’d better apologize to her and Juan.

  Carson held up his hands in mock surrender and inadvertently smacked the mare in the face. Gabbie released his soggy collar with an indignant snort. “Sam, I’m sorry. I really am. You’re right. I had no business butting into the operation of this stable. Now would you mind getting this horse away from me?” The mare was snuffling at his shoulder. Then she attempted to remove a button from his polo shirt.

  “Yes, I mind.” She turned her back on him and started throwing brushes from her grooming kit.

  “You’re still mad at me.” Carson pushed against the horse’s chest. It was like pushing on a Sherman tank.

  “Duh.”

  “Sam, please take this horse. I’ll apologize to Juan.”

  She ignored him. He moved to one side. The mare effectively sidestepped and cut off his escape route.

  “On bended knee...”

  A brush whizzed past his head and hit the wall behind him. The mare snorted at the noise but didn’t back away.

  “...with an expensive bottle of wine.”

  “Tequila.” Her movements weren’t as jerky.

  “Okay, Tequila.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know. He’s been known to hold a grudge for a long time, like close to eternity.”

  “Pleeeeaaase.” Now she’d reduced him to begging.

  “Obscenely expensive?”

  “Yes.”

  “With a worm and everything?”

  “Two worms.”

  “Three worms, and you have a deal.”

  “Three it is.”

  Heaving a sigh, Sam straightened and took the reins from him. She put the horse in reverse and it backed off a few feet. Carson darted out of range then regarded the two females with equal suspicion.

  “I’d better get to work. I’m late, and now I’ll have to change.”

  “Poor baby.”

  “You don’t seem properly sympathetic.”

  Sam actually laughed. “You’d better go, Carson.”

  “Right,” he nodded and strode down the aisle. He faked a cocky walk just to gain back a margin of pride.

  * * * *

  Sam watched him go. So what if he thought Juan’s obsession with crime was legitimate? He deserved to be misled after his arrogant assumption that he could order her employees around. Yet, he’d been so adorable in his begging that he’d melted her fury faster than an ice cream cone in a fireplace. And she loved the way he was with Gabbie. His inability to deal with the mare made him more human.

  She’d glimpsed something he hid well from the world, a vulnerability she couldn’t put her finger on. Yet, she’d witnessed its brief appearance with her own eyes. Knowing he had weaknesses and self-doubts made him all the more dangerous. She’d be wise to keep a distance. She didn’t need a man mucking up her life. She had a goal to achieve and this time nothing would stop her.

  Unfortunately, that very goal required her to suck up to this man in order to keep riding Gabbie. It was a small price to pay to keep the mare safe from the abuse of those who wouldn’t understand her and to achieve one’s dreams.

  Every dressage rider who wasn’t independently wealthy needed a rich sponsor. The sport cost too much money to compete at the top without that bottomless bankroll. Carson Reynolds appeared to have that type of dough, and Sam needed it.

  The tack room door opened a crack, and her long-time friend and loyal student peeked his head out the door. Burke Gordon had been born into old money back east. He’d moved out west after his blueblood parents discovered he was gay. Sam didn’t know the details, and Burke never talked about the situation. For a while he’d lived off a small trust fund and what he made selling horses. The trust fund had long since disappeared. Now Burke imported horses from Europe and sold them to wealthy clients all over the Northwest while searching for the ultimate sugar daddy to support his expensive tastes. Despite his faults, Sam loved him like a member of her family.

  �
�Is he gone?”

  “Yes, he’s gone.”

  “Did you dress him down properly? Not literally, of course.” Burke’s infectious laughter vibrated through the barn. “Then again, I’d love to see that hunk naked.”

  Sam ignored that comment. “Yes. He’s really sorry. He saw Juan hiding in a stall and assumed he was a burglar.”

  “He does appear suspicious with all his lurking about and such.”

  “Carson owes him an apology and a bottle of good tequila.”

  “If the tequila’s good enough, Juan will get over it. You, my dear, need to milk this for all it’s worth while you have the upper hand.”

  “Burke, I’m not going to do that.”

  “One can’t have a filthy rich, gorgeous man indebted to one without seizing every opportunity.”

  Sam giggled. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “I know.” Burke was silent for a moment. “Maybe you should consider your father’s offer to be his bookkeeper and leave this all behind you. Start fresh in a new career where no one knows your past. Even though that hot hunk has the hots for you...”

  “He does not. Why would he be interested in me?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he can see my faults as clearly as if they were displayed on Safeco Field’s electronic reader board. And he doesn’t like what he sees.”

  “Yes, he does. Unfortunately, once little bitch sister fills him in on your past, you’ll be back to mucking stalls to make ends meet.”

  “I know.” Burke was right, and she hated to admit it. She’d never live down the past as long as those doubts remained in everyone’s minds.

  “When’s she back from Europe?”

  “Who knows with her? Could be tomorrow, could be next year. She’ll be dying to tell him every sordid detail. She won’t spring it on him right away. She’ll use it when it’s necessary, but not before. After all, timing is everything. Watch out for that one. She’s dangerous.”

  “I know. Believe me, I know.” Sam managed a smile. “According to Juan, she’s not the only one.”

  Burke seemed to be all ears. He loved nothing better than good gossip. “Really? What makes you say that?”

  “He keeps insisting that I’m in some kind of danger.”

  “Does he give you any details?”

  “Nope. Just that they think I know something.”

  “They? Who are They?”

  Sam shrugged.

  “What could you know?”

  She bit her tongue and chose not to tell him about what she did know or suspect. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

  “You can’t recall anything about that night that might vindicate you?”

  Sam shook her head and prayed she was better at lying than she was at organizing. “Nothing.”

  Burke dismissed the subject with a dramatic wave of his hand. “You’re letting him get to you. That man has a vivid imagination.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “He seems to fancy himself an amateur private detective. I’d ignore him if I were you.”

  “I’m trying.” She was trying. She really was, but what if Juan’s warnings had some validity?

  Then she’d be in deeper shit than she’d been in when she’d fled to Germany six years ago.

  Chapter 8—The Brewery Blues

  Carson didn’t believe in coincidences, and a big one had just arranged a meeting with him in a swanky, downtown Seattle lounge.

  “Can you give me some time?” Carson took a sip of his fine malt whiskey and tried to look nonchalant.

  “How much time? I have buyers breathing down my neck right now. That’s a prime downtown spot.” Edward O’Brian toyed with the ivory handle of the cane he’d leaned against the table. He lifted his eyes and met Carson’s. Ed’s body might be failing, but that mind behind those piercing gray eyes didn’t miss a thing. He knew how badly Carson wanted that brewery.

  “Ed, you were business partners with my grandfather.”

  “That I was. I had the utmost respect for him, which is why I’ve come to you first. My price is beyond reasonable.”

  “I know. I can’t dispute that.”

  “I wouldn’t make this kind of offer to anyone else. I want you to have it.”

  “It’s a generous offer, but I don’t have that kind of cash or credit.”

  “You could turn around and double your money on the property in a day.”

  “This isn’t about money, Ed, and you know it. It’s about my obligation to my grandfather.”

  “Family always has been your Achilles heel, Carson. When will you live your life for you?”

  “I have been this past year.” Carson stared at the gold liquid in his glass.

  “That’s not how I see it.”

  “How do you see it?”

  “I see you still living your life for them. Everything you do is geared toward proving to your father that you’re worthy, and he made a mistake.”

  Carson wanted to say bullshit, but that was hard to do to a man who was telling the truth so he steered the conversation back to the brewery. “My family shouldn’t have sold that brewery.”

  “Your father sold it to me when the timber industry was going through some tough times.”

  “He thought you’d honor my grandfather’s dream and continue with his plans. Instead, it has been allowed to rot for years.”

  “Times change, Carson, and as they say ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.’ I fell on hard times, too.”

  “But you hung onto it all this time and refused every offer. Why sell it now?”

  “I need the money. Bad stock market investments and mismanaged funds by my CEOs in recent years have taken their toll.” Now it was Ed’s turn to study his scotch.

  “Your CEOs are your sons.”

  “Stepsons. Spoiled and without my savvy for business. Do you know how many people depend on me for their livelihood? I won’t see them out in the street as long as I’m alive. Like you, my weakness is also my family. I’m selling off everything before I die; then I’ll split the proceeds between them. That leaves their greedy wives with nothing to fight over once I’m gone.”

  “I need some time. I wasn’t prepared for this.” What an understatement that was.

  “Time is one thing I’m short on right now.”

  “I understand.” Just one look at Ed’s gaunt face and ragged breathing told Carson all he needed to know.

  “Your father could get that kind of credit, Carson. Why don’t you ask him?”

  “Never.” Carson fisted his hands. “I can’t do that. Did my Dad set you up to do this?”

  Ed smiled. “I can’t imagine why he would do such a thing.”

  Carson could imagine, in fact, quite a bit. “Give me some time to formulate a plan.”

  “How much time?”

  “Six months.”

  “I’ll need a non-refundable amount of money to hold it for your protection as well as mine, Carson. If something happens to me, the vultures will swoop down and pick every bone clean. I want to sew this up tight as quickly as I can.”

  Carson frowned. He thought of the horse, not exactly a liquid asset, and took a huge gamble. “I can come up with $250,000.” It’d take a lien on every piece of equipment he owned and the equity in his condo. If the horse didn’t sell in six months, he’d be ruined, and he’d lose the brewery. He was painting himself in a corner, and all roads led through his father’s office, but he wasn’t ready to concede defeat just yet.

  “That’s not much.”

  “It’s the best I can do.”

  “If you don’t pay the amount in full in six months, the down payment is forfeited.”

  “You’re a shrewd businessman.”

  “Your grandfather wouldn’t expect anything less from me.”

  And his father would be salivating at this recent turn of events. He had Carson right where he wanted him.

  And that was no coincidence.

  * * *
*

  Sam heard a car pull up outside. She glanced at the clock. It was almost 10:30 P.M. No one rode this late at night. She put down the bridle she was cleaning and peered out the door of the tack room. Carson’s conservative black sedan was parked near the barn door under the security light. A car door slammed shut. He strode down the aisle talking animatedly on his cell phone. Not wanting to invade his privacy, but trapped in the tack room, Sam flipped off the light, pulled back into the darkness, and peeked out the door as Carson walked by.

  “Mom, I’m not trying to hurt Dad. No, I’m not being stubborn. No more than he is.”

  Stopping in front of Gabbie’s stall, Carson drummed his fingers on the stall door. “No, I didn’t throw his offer in his face. He presented it to me as if he was doing me a favor.” Carson was silent for a long minute. His finger drumming grew more intense. Sam could make out Gabbie’s expression in the dim light. The big mare flattened her ears and gave Carson her best ‘we are not amused’ glare. After all, the man was interrupting the princess’s beauty sleep. Sam had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  Carson absently patted the annoyed mare’s muzzle. One ear flicked forward. “If that was his way of making amends, you could’ve fooled me. Yes, I know how important this equestrian center is to you and Bridget.” Carson nodded at no one. “I know. I know it’s been a dream of yours for years. I’m not being selfish. I know how important Cedrona is to you, but he’s setting me up. I know he is.”

  Carson jerked back his hand, as if he’d just realized that he was petting a horse. He turned and paced up and down the aisle. Sam ducked behind the doorjamb. She was trapped and blew out a sigh of relief when he didn’t look her way. “I do care about you. Hell, I even care about Dad. Why can’t I get through to you? I understand the financial issues. I know. I read the papers. I know we shut down our last sawmill and that three of our IT companies went under.”

  “Yeah, I heard that, too. Two developments that didn’t get developed. Not good. I know.”