Mr. Miracle (Harlequin Super Romance)

by McSparren, Carolyn

  “Why should I believe you?” She closed her eyes. “The first night you slept in my house, when we played poker, you told me all about my ‘tells.’ If you have any tells, I haven’t been able to recognize them. I can’t look at your face or your hands and say, ‘Okay, now he’s telling the truth.’ Or, ‘Okay, now he’s lying.’ That makes every word out of your mouth suspect. I’ll never ever be able to trust you, Jamey. How can I love a man I don’t trust? How can I ever believe you truly love me?”

  This time he did go to her and take her by the shoulders. “Believe this if you don’t believe anything else. The hell with the horse. The only thing that matters is that I love you and you love me.”

  “You don’t know how I long to believe you.”

  “Do you really think I’m the kind of man who can make love to a woman the way I’ve made love to you without caring for her? That I’m some sort of...gigolo?”

  “Yesterday I would have said no. Now I don’t know. That makes better sense than that a man like you would fall head over heels for a woman like me.”

  “God in heaven, woman! What man wouldn’t love you? Beautiful, gallant, so sensual you take my breath away—”

  “Stop it.”

  He dropped his hands. “Do you want me out of here tonight?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I still have horses to exercise and a stable to run.” She pushed past him. “I don’t feel much like riding tonight. I’ll leave the front door unlocked.” She turned and gave him a cool gaze. “I’d prefer that you sleep upstairs in the guest room.” She turned on her heel. “There’re leftovers in the refrigerator. I don’t think I want any dinner.”

  “Vic!” he called after her. “We can’t leave things this way.”

  She kept walking.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  JAMEY SLEPT wrapped in a horse blanket on bales of hay. As much as he longed to follow Vic to her house, he felt he’d forfeited the right. Besides, he wanted to catch Albert before Vic appeared in the morning. Although he was certain he’d never sleep again, he did, for Albert woke him at six-thirty in the morning.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Albert asked. “What you doing down here?”

  Jamey sat up sleepily. He felt the stubble on his cheeks and brushed hay from his hair. “I’m waiting for my beating.”

  “Huh?”

  “You said if I hurt her, you’d break my neck.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “I’ve got to talk to you.”

  Albert sighed. “Come on into the lounge. Even the condemned deserve a cup of coffee on a morning like this.”

  Jamey sat in the easy chair with his elbows on his knees. Albert bustled about making coffee, and the moment it began to drip, came across and sank onto the aging sofa, which creaked ominously under his weight.

  “Now.”

  Jamey laid out the whole story without embellishment or justification.

  When he was through, Albert leaned back and sighed deeply. “Damn. All this for a blockheaded stallion?”

  Jamey nodded. “My stepfather’s stallion.”

  “You sure it’s him?”

  “As sure as a man can be.”

  “You got yourself into a mess and then some. Boy, why didn’t you just tell her right out the minute you knew for certain?”

  “I couldn’t find the right moment. No. The real answer is that I thought she’d never find out, never have to think badly of me.”

  “You are one dumb Scot. What you going to do?”

  “I need your help.”

  Albert narrowed his eyes. “I won’t help you get that horse.”

  Jamey waved him away. “Forget the horse. What matters is Vic. Help me convince her to keep riding and that I’m not lying when I say I love her.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “Because you love her, too. I hope you don’t want me to tell you I’ll walk away. I can’t do that. I intend to fight for her.”

  “Go right ahead. Meantime you call Mike Whitten this minute and tell him exactly what you’ve told me. Time we got all the secrets out in the open.”

  Jamey groaned. “It’s not going to make me much of a hit on the relative front, is it?”

  “You didn’t make a hit yesterday. I don’t know how I can convince Vic of anything. I never could before.”

  “I’ll tell Whitten in any case. Just help me keep her riding, then. She needs that.”

  Albert looked at him for a long moment. “You really do love her, don’t you?”

  Jamey nodded.

  “And you want to take her away from us and off to Scotland.”

  Jamey nodded again. “That, too. But planes fly both ways. It’s not as though I were taking her to the moon.”

  “As good as, way she feels about airplanes.” Albert put his big hands on his knees and hauled himself to his feet. “Might not be a bad thing for her to move to Scotland. Got herself in a rut here. Meeting everybody else’s expectations. Time for a change.”

  He walked to the door. Jamey stared after him with his mouth open.

  “The number of Whitten’s apartment is in Vic’s notebook in the top drawer of the desk in the office,” Albert went on. “If you’re gonna catch him before he leaves to go back to Florida this morning, you better call now.”

  “Man, it’s only seven in the morning.”

  “He’s up. Call him.”

  Whitten was indeed up. Jamey asked if he could meet him at the airport before his flight left.

  “Plans are changed.” Whitten sounded cool. “Liz is flying in here, instead. She arrives at three this afternoon.”

  Jamey closed his eyes. Whitten must have told her about him and Vic. And like an angry parent she’d hopped the first flight home. This was going to be worse than he’d imagined.

  “There’s a coffee shop in Germantown at Poplar. Can you meet me there in half an hour?”

  Jamey agreed, then realized he looked like a burn. “Make it forty minutes,” he said, and hung up. Nothing for it but to go back to the house to shower, shave and change clothes. One part of him longed to see Vic; the other part wanted to avoid her at all costs, at least until he’d seen Whitten.

  Should he tell her Liz was coming into town?

  He drove his motorcycle up the hill and nearly ran into Vic driving down in her truck. She pointedly ignored him. One problem solved. If she wouldn’t speak to him, he wouldn’t have any opportunity to tell her about Liz.

  Whitten was already sitting in a back booth reading the Wall Street Journal when Jamey arrived. The two men shook hands perfunctorily. It was the first time Mike had taken his hand, and he glanced at Jamey’s single black glove with curiosity. Jamey explained quickly, ordered a cup of coffee and some orange juice, and tried to figure out how to start.

  “I’ve a story to tell you,” he said finally. “A fairly long story, and one that doesn’t reflect very well on me. It’s the truth, though you’ve no reason to believe me.”

  Mike nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Ten minutes later Jamey took a deep drink of his orange juice to try to allay the terrible dryness in his mouth, sat back and opened his hands. “That’s it. The whole sorry tale.”

  For a moment Whitten said nothing. Then he nodded. “I had a feeling about that old farmer from the beginning. That he was more than he said he was.”

  “You believe me, then?”

  “About the stallion? Oh, yes, I believe you, all right. Doesn’t mean I intend to turn him over to you without a whimper.”

  “You’re missing the point. This stopped being about the stallion a long time ago.”

  “Really?” Mike didn’t sound convinced.

  “I’ve spent my life with Jock’s dream for his stallion. I thought it was the most important thing in his life. Now I know I was wrong.”

  “Then what was?”

  “Oh, he wanted to create his dream stallion, all right. But he had the time to spend on that because he’d already attained his real dream—my mother’s
love. I knew they loved each other, but until now I didn’t have a clue what that love truly meant to his life.”

  “And now you do,” Mike said flatly. His disbelief was almost palpable.

  Jamey took a deep breath to keep a lid on his temper. He had to make this man understand.

  “So do you. So does Albert. So, for that matter, does Kevin Womack. You’re each secure in the knowledge that the woman you love, the woman who is central to your existence, loves you, is wedded to you and will be with you for life.”

  “Vic’s older than you.”

  “So what?”

  “She can’t give you children.”

  “I wasn’t Jock’s natural son, but he was as much my father as the man whose genes I carried. Biological paternity means nothing to me. If I want an heir, there’re appropriate cousins coming out of the woodwork in my family. The point is, Vic and I are at the same place in our lives.”

  “She already has a life,” Mike said. “If you love her so much, how can you wrench her away from the people who love her? Take her to another world, where she’ll be surrounded by strangers?”

  “That’s simple logistics. Something she and I will have to work out. Frankly I don’t care where we live so long as it’s together.”

  “And so long as you can lay claim to her share of ValleyCrest?”

  “I don’t want ValleyCrest. I’ve more than got my hands full with McLachlan Yard. Draw up an ironclad prenuptial agreement to protect her from my thieving Gypsy ways. I’ll sign it.”

  “So tell me, just how do you see her new life, this life you so cavalierly want to drag her away to?”

  “I don’t see her new life at all. I see our new life, and it’s whatever we want to make of it together.”

  “She’s too old to simply pick up and move half a world away.”

  “She’s not much older than you, and I understand you’ve changed pretty fundamentally of late. I don’t want her to lose anything by marrying me—I want her to gain. But I’ll fight you for her if I have to. My stepfather and mother fought both their families for their love. It’s a tradition.”

  Mike nodded at the waitress, who refilled both their coffee cups. He sat back and stirred cream into his. “All right, McLachlan. I’ll make you a proposition. You came here for that stallion. Take him. I’ll have him on the next plane back to quarantine in Glasgow. I’ll sign over the papers to you this morning. You’ll leave with what you came for.”

  Jamey pulled out his wallet and threw a bill on the table, then stood. “I know you mean well. That’s why I’m not going to break your jaw.”

  Mike’s eyebrows shot up.

  “A month ago I would have jumped at the chance. Keep your stallion, Whitten. There’ll be other horses. But there’ll never be another Vic, not for me.”

  He drove back to Vic’s cottage and packed. Whatever happened, he couldn’t stay in her house any longer. If by some miracle they managed to patch things up, he could always move back in.

  At this point what mattered most was that she continue to ride, that she keep her panic attacks at bay. Even if he had to sleep on the hay until Saturday, he intended for her to ride that dressage class on Roman. He’d be at ringside whistling and humming to keep them both calm. He couldn’t leave until he’d helped her achieve that.

  But he couldn’t stay, either.

  Vic’s truck was gone when he drove his motorcycle back to the barn.

  “Said she had to get out of here,” Albert said. “Didn’t want to see you. You talk to Whitten?”

  “Yes. He offered to give me Roman if I’d leave.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I turned him down.”

  “Uh-huh. You got horses to ride.”

  “Whitten says his wife is coming into town this afternoon.”

  “Liz? Boy, you’ve really done it now. Vic is as close to a mother as that child’s got. You think she’s gonna let you waltz in here and mess up Vic’s head and heart, you got another think coming. Mike’s a pussycat compared to Liz when she’s on a rampage.”

  Jamey concentrated on his riding while keeping an eye out for Mike and Liz.

  Just after lunch Angie and Kevin showed up. “I wanted to show Kevin Boop’s new lover,” Angie said. “And look!” She waved her arm at Jamey. “It’s still sore, but I can ride in a brace. No more stupid scarf thingies.”

  “Wonderful. Good timing.”

  “You’re not really going back to Scotland this soon, are you?” Angie asked.

  “I don’t know what my plans are at the moment, lass.”

  “Well, we know what ours are, don’t we, Kev?” She beamed at her husband. “I can’t wait to tell Vic. Our baby’s arriving in ten days.”

  “How do you feel about that?” Jamey asked Kevin.

  “Fine, I guess.” He smiled at his wife. “Frankly I’m scared to death.”

  “Not surprising,” Jamey said. He handed the reins of the gray mare to Albert. “I’ll work the stallion for you, if you’d like to see him.”

  “Oh, yes, please!” Angie said. “Kev’s not really all that scared about our baby, are you, honey?”

  Kevin smiled weakly.

  Jamey clapped him on the shoulder. “I was raised by a man who plunked me onto the back of a horse when I was six months old. I never thought of him as anything other than my father, and he always thought of me as his son. Real fathers give more to their children than a bit of genetic material. She’ll be your daughter the moment you hold her in your arms, man. That I promise you.”

  Kevin brightened. “I didn’t know you were adopted.” “More like kidnapped. And glad of it. Your daughter will come right if you love her. I did.” He turned to Angie. “Feel up to giving me a hand with the stallion?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes!” She hooked her arm through his and strode off down the aisle beside him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Kev needed to hear that.”

  VIC SAT OUTSIDE THE BARN in her truck, unwilling to open the door and face Jamey. She ought to be able to stop loving him, but she couldn’t. He’d lied to her so much and hurt her more deeply than she had guessed. Had he lied when he said he loved her? Wanted to marry her? Take her to Scotland?

  She didn’t see much point in that kind of lie for him. Did she believe that he had given up the idea of stealing the stallion? Yes, but more because he wasn’t capable of that sort of duplicity than out of love for her. It had been a crazy scheme to start with. He must have been slightly mad—on his stepfather’s hobbyhorse, as Marshall Dunn would say.

  None of that offered a solution. She couldn’t simply walk into the barn, say, “All is forgiven, I’m off to Scotland with you.” And he obviously couldn’t stay in Tennessee.

  She climbed out of her car just as Mike Whitten’s rental car pulled in beside her. The passenger door opened and Liz flew out. “Vic!” Liz said, and grabbed her.

  Vic froze. Oh, Lord. The cavalry had arrived to rescue the dotty aunt from the fortune hunter. She gave Mike a withering look over Liz’s shoulder and was rewarded with a shamefaced grimace.

  “Where’s Pat?” Vic asked the moment she could draw a breath.

  “With the Thompsons,” Liz said. “She and Lucy Thompson have become best friends. They were glad to look after her. They’re going to Disney World.”

  “And the horses?”

  “Jack Robey is looking after them.” Liz’s eyes began to tear up. “Oh, Vic, this is all my fault.”

  “What is all your fault?”

  “I was so selfish. All I could think about was what I wanted. Going off to Florida and leaving everything to you—the renovations, the stallion, looking after the entire place with nobody’s help but Albert’s. It wasn’t fair. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of handling things by myself.”

  “Of course you are,” Mike said. “She didn’t mean that.”

  “But you never said anything about Angie’s broken collarbone. And now...”

  For the first time in a long time
Vic found herself getting truly angry with her niece. “And now I am having a blistering affair with a young saddle burn who’s after my money and my land.”

  “Oh, Vic!”

  “Listen to me, Elizabeth Whitten. I don’t need a keeper. I make my own decisions, my own choices, and I’m not some dotty old woman who signs over her estate to the first charmer that comes along.”

  “Vic, I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did. Well, come on in, Miss Elizabeth, and meet Jamey McLachlan, my Gypsy lover.”

  “Your Gypsy liar, you mean,” Mike said softly.

  Vic rounded on him. “That’s enough from you, too, Michael Whitten. Just because you married into this family, you don’t have the right to sit in judgment of me or the people I mix with.”

  He held up his hands. “Whoa! Jamey told me the whole story this morning. He wasn’t exactly honest with you about all this.”

  “And no doubt you gave Liz chapter and verse on the way from the airport. No, he has not told the truth. But he also has done nothing underhanded. He hasn’t stolen anything or cheated anybody. He’s worked his can off taking up the slack in this place—working harder than three men. And he’s as good a rider as Liz is with only one decent hand. And by God, he makes me feel great in bed for the first time in my life. So you can watch your mouth.”

  “Vic, I’ve never seen you like this,” Liz said. “I...we...only want you to be happy.” She burst into tears. “And now I need you more than I ever did before in my life. Mike says he told you about the baby.”

  Instantly Vic felt a wave of guilt. Liz was not a woman who cried easily, but hormones in the first months of pregnancy were notorious for screwing up one’s moods. She enfolded Liz in her arms and held her tight. “I know, baby. I know.”

  “And this guy waltzes in off the street and—”

  “It’s all right, Liz. I’m all right. Really.” She took Liz’s hand and led her into the barn. Jamey stood by the open door to the arena with the stallion’s reins in his hand. Angie and Kevin stood with him. Talking with hands and mouth when she spotted Liz, Angie yelled and flew at her.

  In a moment Kevin, Angie, Albert and Mike were all talking at once.