Vic grimaced. “Pretty insensitive, I’ll grant you. But then, adolescents are insensitive, Kevin. I was. No doubt you were, too.” She looked at him closely. “What do you mean the usual bull?”
“Sam started dragging me along to these meetings of his. A bunch of adopted kids, all of whom were destroying the people who raised them by looking for their biological parents.”
“Kevin, if he hadn’t felt you were his brother, do you think he’d have taken you with him? That’s not a betrayal.”
“The hell it’s not. It killed my mother.”
“Surely not.”
“She’d never had a minute’s illness, and four years later she had a perforated duodenal ulcer and bled to death on the table. He killed her as surely as if he’d put a gun to her head and blown her brains out. And I told him so at the funeral.”
“My God, Kevin, you didn’t!”
Kevin looked away with real pain in his eyes. “Yeah, I did.”
“What did your father say?”
“He got mad at me.”
“I’m sure you were hurting, but you should never have said anything like that, Kevin.”
He sighed. “I still think it’s the truth, but the minute the words came out of my mouth I regretted them. I couldn’t take them back, so I stormed out. I’ve never spoken to Sam since. I see my father only when I know Sam isn’t going to be there.”
“Kevin, that’s awful! He’s your family. Haven’t you tried to speak to him?”
“He’s not my family any longer. My mother once told me it’s easy to forgive people for what they do to you. What’s hard is forgiving yourself for what you’ve done to them.”
“Wise woman, your mother.”
“It’s too late now.”
“I’m so sorry. Did Sam find his mother?”
“Sure did. And she didn’t know who the father was.” There was an edge of satisfaction in his tone that raised Vic’s eyebrows to her hairline. “The point is,” he continued, “that I’m not about to let some beautiful baby walk into our lives, and just when we love her so much we can’t stand it, she ups and says she’s going back to China because we’ve deprived her of not only her roots but her cultural heritage.” Kevin held up his hand. “And don’t tell me it can’t happen, because it does every day.”
“But most kids, if they find their roots, come back, curiosity satisfied, and reaffirm their relationship with the family that brought them up. Sam came back to your father, didn’t he?”
“Oh, sure, they come blithely home, and the parents they betrayed never let them see how badly they’re hurt, just the way my mother never let Sam see. I won’t let Angie face that.”
“Well, Kevin, I think you’re absolutely right,” Vic said.
Kevin gaped. “You do?”
“Absolutely. If you feel every time you look at your baby girl that she’s a time bomb waiting to blow you and Angie out of the water, you’ll never commit to loving her, to being a father to her. She’ll be the original self-fulfilling prophecy. You better believe she’ll walk out on you the minute she can. So would I. So would anybody.”
“I’d be a good father,” Kevin said, obviously annoyed.
“Right.”
“It’s just that I love Angie too much to risk seeing her hurt.”
“Kevin, she’s hurt now, and I don’t mean the broken collarbone.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“I’m not at all certain she will—not until you two talk this out. Okay, Doctor, let’s say you do manage to get Angie pregnant. She has a baby girl that’s yours genetically. What do you think is going to happen when that little girl hits fourteen or fifteen?”
“She’s going to be a normal teenager.”
Vic rolled her eyes. “A normal teenage girl is a combination of the monster from the black lagoon and all three witches from McBeth. Girls have a genius for spotting the weakest chink in their parents’ armor. They’ll go for it every time. It scares them, but it gives them a feeling of power. I did it. Liz did it. Angie did it. I made my grandmother’s life sheer unadulterated hell. I blamed her for everything from my bad-hair days to my mother and father dying in a plane crash.”
“But—”
“No, you listen up. You’re an obstetrician, not a pediatrician. You catch ’em, smack their bottoms and never see them again. You don’t have to consider how they turn out. Kids are the greatest joy in life. They are also the greatest heartache. And it doesn’t matter one bit whether the kid is yours genetically or not. They’ll still put you through hell while they’re trying to grow up. The only thing that will change is the weapons they use.
“You can’t protect Angie from this. My grandmother told me on my thirteenth birthday, that if she could just get me to twenty-one without one of us killing the other, she’d heave a mighty sigh of relief. I gave Liz the same speech. And Angie, come to think of it. She’s no hothouse plant, Kevin. She’s a big strong woman with a nurturing instinct as broad as the Mississippi. And you’re the same. That baby won’t be Sam or Liz or Angie or you or me. It’s going to be its own person. And you better get up the gumption to apologize to your brother, even if he smacks you for it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Use your dad as an intermediary. Sam’s probably as anxious to see you as you are to see him. And talk all this stuff out with your wife. Whatever you decide, do it together. Angie worships you. Why else do you think she’s so desperate to give you a child?”
“I can’t talk it out with her if I can’t find her.”
“She’ll come home. Or call. Or show up here. She’s miserable, not irresponsible. Go home. Go to the hospital.”
He managed a grin. “I’ve already told my partners to handle any babies that arrive today if they don’t want a malpractice suit on their hands. I’m in no condition to make a life-or-death decision.” He dropped his head onto his hands. “Where is she?”
Vic glanced out the window. “Coming up the drive in her Suburban.”
Kevin bolted for the front door.
“Kevin! Wait! If she sees you she may drive off again.”
“My car’s in front of the barn.”
“She either didn’t see it or thinks you’re down there waiting for her. Keep your seat. Let me talk to her first.”
Vic went to the door, opened it and waited on the step. Angie looked, if anything, worse than Kevin. Her short hair stood on end, her makeup had gotten muddy, she’d eaten her lipstick off and she’d obviously been crying.
“Kevin’s here,” Vic said.
Angie stopped.
“Come in here this minute. You’ve got the man scared spitless.”
“I can’t see him.”
“Yes, you can. This is not at all what you thought it was, Angie. That man has supported you and pampered and babied you for the last fifteen years. Now he is in a heap of hurt.”
“He’s hurting? What about me?”
“This is not about you. Or it is, but not the way you think. Now I’m going down to the barn. You feed Kevin the toast that’s still sitting in the toaster, drink some coffee and have a little meeting. You listen to what he has to say and don’t get angry or uppity. You let him talk. And then you deal with it together.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t. I’m not certain I do, either, but I don’t have to. I’m not married to the man.” She walked down the steps, got into her truck, backed out and drove down the driveway to the barn. In her rearview mirror she saw Angie staring after her with tears streaming down her face.
“Well?” Albert said at the barn door.
“I don’t know. I always thought Kevin Womack was the most completely uncomplicated human being I’d ever met. Boy, was I wrong.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not now. Maybe later. Where’s Jamey?”
“On a horse where he belongs. What’s he got to do with it? He been coming on to Angie?”
“No, Albert. I do
n’t think he’s met her but once. Albert, do you love your children?”
“Most of the time, when they’re not driving me into an early grave.”
“Could you ever turn your back on one of them for any reason?”
“Lord, no. And I’ve had me some reasons from time to time, as you very well know. It’s not an easy world out there.”
“I don’t think Kevin could turn his back on a child, either, no matter what he says or thinks he knows about himself. But it just goes to show you how complicated this business of children is. It’s why we’re put on this earth, after all.” She sighed and turned away.
Albert patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Liz is as much your child as if you’d birthed her yourself.”
“As close as I’ll ever get to motherhood, that’s for certain.” Vic turned to watch Jamey ride by on a big chestnut gelding. “But every man wants children, right? Wants to carry on his genes? His name? His dynasty? Somebody of his own blood to leave it all to?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“That’s what I thought.” Another reason she could never get too involved with Jamey. She sighed again. “I’d better start working on the month-end bills for the clients or we won’t have enough money to pay the feed bill.” “I JUST SAW ANGIE’S truck drive by,” Jamey said. Vic could tell by his face he was curious, but he asked no questions.
“Was Kevin with her?”
He nodded. “Left his car outside the barn.”
Vic heaved a sigh. “That’s a relief. At least they’re talking to each other, although why this has turned into my problem I do not know.”
“They all seem to turn into your problems,” he said gently.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do I get the feeling you think that’s my fault?”
He smiled at her blandly. “Would I say such a thing? Still, you do spend a great deal of time smoothing out the wrinkles in other people’s lives. Making sure there’s no time left over to deal with your own?”
“I beg your pardon. I thought dealing with my problem was what we’d been doing every evening.”
“Oh, you’re making great strides. But that’s riding. Not life. Life is something entirely different.”
“And generally painful, from my experience.”
“But there’s joy, as well. And happiness, and even love if you’re lucky.”
“That lucky I’m not.” She thrust her hands in her pockets and strode away.
“Don’t be too sure,” he murmured to her retreating back.
She heard him, but she didn’t break stride. Too charming and too available and too willing to make her feel too blasted feminine and about sixteen years old.
She’d long since made up her mind that if there truly was reincarnation, then she was not slated to find a great love in this particular lifetime. She was here to facilitate love between people she cared about, to nurture animals and people. She was not about to make a complete about-face at this late date, certainly not with a man Jamey’s age from halfway across the world.
“Remember your promise,” he called after her.
“What promise?” She stopped and turned.
He glanced at Albert’s broad back and hooked his thumb toward the stallion paddock. “That.”
Her eyes widened and she gulped, then she straightened her shoulders. “I never renege on a promise.”
From his grin she knew what he was thinking. Even if it kills me.
“I’M SORRY,” VIC SAID that evening after Albert had gone home. “I said I don’t renege, but this is different. The weather’s turning miserable. All the horses are high as kites and extremely grumpy.”
“You told me to stop protecting you. I’m doing as I was told. Get on that stallion.”
“I won’t. In the first place, I don’t like stallions, and I especially don’t like this one. He’s too young, too untrained and about a dozen sizes too big. Falling off him would be like falling off the Empire State Building.”
Jamey sighed.
Vic scowled at him, her hands on her hips, every fiber of her being issuing a challenge.
One part of him wanted simply to cave in and let her off the hook. The other part told him she must not be allowed to consider failure—not this early in the game. He regretted that he’d ever brought up the subject of riding Roman, but the pair of them were now in a battle of wills. One would have to win, and unfortunately that one would have to be Jamey, for both their sakes.
“You won’t fall,” he said patiently. “He’s been out in the paddock all day, weather or not. I’ve just lunged him for twenty minutes. If he’s ever going to be tired enough to behave, now is the time.”
Vic shook her head. “No way. You ride him. You like him.”
“So will you once you’re aboard.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“Tonight, Victoria. Your eyes to my eyes, your hand to my hand.”
“Don’t try that Svengali stuff on me, either. It won’t work this time.”
“You’re scared.”
“Damn right I’m scared! I’m just starting to recover my nerve. The last thing I need is to fall on my keester.”
“And the first thing is a success. I’ll be here. All you have to do is walk around for five minutes, but you promised me, you promised yourself, and by God, you will do it. Now get on that horse before I toss you across the saddle. He’ll definitely resent that.”
Jamey had never raised his voice to her before. She blinked at his tone. He was certain she’d blow up and storm out. From the scowl on her face, he could tell that was what she was thinking. The moment stretched as they faced each other.
Then she grinned. “You sound just like Frank, my husband. He could be a real tyrant, but even he couldn’t get me back on a horse after my accident.”
“He apparently didn’t know the Svengali stuff. I’ll hold your stirrup.”
“Oh, heck, who wants to live forever, anyway?” She tossed her head, but he could see that she was trembling, and not from the cold. She unhooked the stallion from his cross-ties and walked him to the mounting block.
Jamey began to whistle under his breath.
“Here—hold him,” Vic said.
Jamey stepped behind her, wrapped his arms around her and laid his cheek against hers. “Jamey won’t let the big bad horse hurt you.”
“You jerk,” she said amiably as she pushed him away. Gingerly, she climbed into position on the stallion’s back.
He watched her gather the reins, settle herself in the saddle and walk away. The stallion took two steps, then bounced sideways and tossed his head.
“Whoa!” Vic said, and grabbed a handful of mane.
“Ride him through it, Victoria. He smells your fear, so you have to lie to him, convince him you’re not scared.”
“Who’s going to lie to me?”
“You don’t need lies. You’ve got your balance back. He won’t get you out of the saddle. Talk to him with your fingers. I can’t. You can.”
She squared her shoulders, set her jaw and moved away.
Five minutes later Jamey stood in the center of the ring and tried to avoid looking as stunned as he felt. Horse and woman had been born for each other. After two steps the stallion moved with one ear cocked forward and one back, listening to Vic in a way he’d never listened to Jamey. He could hear her crooning to him under her breath, could see her shoulders start to relax, her extremely elegant rear swing with the motion of the horse’s back.
He caught his breath. Oh, yes. Even at a walk, the horse possessed the natural balance, the movement, the arch of neck, the keen eye, the pride that said he had the potential to be great.
Without any urging from Jamey, Vic moved the horse into a trot. He flowed around the arena, around Jamey, the arena lights making his thick black winter coat look like sable.
Jamey’s heart cracked at the sight of them. His woman, his horse—no, his woman, Jock’s horse. Jock’s dream. Jamey had never had a dream of his own except to be worth
y of Jock’s love and trust.
Suddenly he did. This woman was his dream. He couldn’t conceive of a life without her beside him. No matter how many horses he bred, how successful he became, how famous, how powerful, how many snobs acknowledged him, Jock’s dream wasn’t enough any longer. Unless he, Jamey, could turn to Vic and present her with his accomplishments like a blue ribbon, none would have any value to him.
“He’s only a horse,” he whispered to himself. There could be other horses, other stallions, but for him, there would never ever be another Victoria.
“Canter, you blockhead,” he heard Vic say.
Jamey watched and knew he had every piece of information he needed about the stallion except one, and that one he couldn’t know until next year. Would Roman pass along his genes to his get?
“I want to breed him,” Jamey said.
Vic came to an abrupt halt. “Say what?”
“Breed him. So far as we know he’s never been bred. With his size, he should produce one hell of a foal on the right mare.”
“You got one in mind?”
“Not at the moment. But the idea is sound.”
“It’s bizarre! What nut do you think is going to breed a decent mare to an untried moose of a horse without a nickel’s worth of lineage behind him and no show credits to his name?”
“I can think of one person just dotty enough to try.”
“Don’t you dare call Angie! She’s got enough on her plate at the moment.”
“I have no intention of calling her. You can do it.”
“You’re crazy.” Abruptly Vic swung the horse around and began to work him in the other direction. Jamey sat atop a large gray wall jump, pulled one foot up under him and wrapped his arms around his knee. What a pleasure simply to sit here and watch her. He began to dream of seeing her at McLachlan Yard, riding across the pastures beside him, curling up against him at night sated from making love.
Until now Jamey had never understood why Jock had risked everything to steal his mother. He’d been extremely grateful of course, but why Jock had risked his position in society, his reputation, his livelihood, for seventeen-year-old Marika had been beyond his comprehension.
Mr. Miracle (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 13