Cory was adopted, Jake remembered while he applied Glycerin soap to Cory’s child-size saddle. The old leather of the borrowed saddle was like the state of his recent temperament—dried out by a rage that had spread deep within his chest and cracked his usual good humor. As he rubbed the soap into the leather, Jake wondered about this well-adjusted child who was so eager to please and happy with her life. Even though her adopted mother and father were gone, Cory seemed perfectly content with Vanessa as her only parent.
What if Cory’s biological parents showed up? How would that affect the child’s life? Jake hadn’t looked at it that way. He buffed the saddle in a circular motion, applying pressure and making his arm hurt with the effort.
Suppose someone took Cory away from Royalty Farm? Vanessa would be crushed. Pop and Dave and Mel, all the people who loved the child, would be crushed too. Jake had to admit he wouldn’t like the idea. Maybe Mel was right. Maybe he should view the problem from the eyes of the child. As much as he wanted to see his own daughter, what would his sudden appearance do to her and the people who loved her?
Unlike the borrowed saddle, it wasn’t as if his child’s adoptive parents had ever planned to give her back. Back to whom? Him? A single man with a job that was transient at best.
He paused a moment to massage the pain in his temple. Jake wanted the finest in life for his own flesh and blood. Ultimately, he wanted the child happy and safe and secure. Who was he to disturb his child’s life? What arrogance made him think he could do more for the child than her adoptive parents?
Mel said his daughter was happy. He only wanted to know for sure.
Jake’s heart did a flip-flop in his chest. “Cory!”
Like the sudden, swift kick of a horse, he knew the identity of his daughter. In that instant he saw the resemblance, between himself and Cory, between Mel and the little girl.
How could he have been so blind?
Jake felt like laughing at himself. Until last weekend, he hadn’t even known his daughter existed. Now with an intense insight that tightened his stomach and compressed his heart, he knew who she was. Cory was his child.
With a grunt, Jake dropped the rag and picked up the oily sponge used for Neatsfoot Oil. The slick liquid coated his fingers as he rubbed the sponge on the saddle. He watched the dry leather soak up the oil. The last time he’d cleaned saddles, Mel had helped him. He recalled the smudges of dirt on her translucent skin and how he’d wiped a blotch from her nose. Desire flared as it had then. For an instant, he wanted to yank Mel into his arms and kiss the stubbornness from her heart and soul.
It all made sense now. Although he was still angry at Mel’s lack of trust and her deception, he understood now the care she’d taken by placing Cory with the Nobles. Where she could watch over her. Where she could judge her well-being.
How it must hurt her to come home for visits and see her daughter. For the first time in a week, Jake fully appreciated Mel’s sacrifice, the great depth of her character, and the abundance of her love for their child.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were here.” Mel interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see her turning to leave.
“No, don’t go away.”
She paused on the threshold and stared at him with an exhaustion that was easy to see. Their disagreement had taken a bitter toll on her. The natural circles under her eyes were darkened. Her mouth was set in a solemn line, and the marks of a frown blemished her forehead.
“I don’t want to bother you,” she said.
“You just want to avoid me.”
Her chin came up.
He was sorry he’d picked a fight. “Actually, I could use the help.” He tossed the rag at her.
Mel snatched it out of the air. “What do you want me to do?”
“Take care of the reins there.” He eyed the bridle hanging by a hook from the ceiling.
Stroking the leather with the soapy rag, Mel began cleaning the long reins. They were silent. Jake cast interested glances her way—watching how her slender fingers moved, how her eyelashes curled against her cheek so that they would beguile any man. Her hair was pulled back with a ribbon. The profile of her cheek distracted him, just as the soft pout of her lips charmed him. He repressed the surge of desire that knifed through him. He suppressed the feelings of tenderness that stabbed his heart just as harshly.
Would she ever tell him? He had a stubborn streak too. He wanted her to be the one to open up.
“Have you heard any more about Sam’s murder?” he asked after a moment.
“No, have you?” She glanced his way.
Jake shrugged. “Vanessa called Sheriff Vickers after supper. He doesn’t know anything more. The investigation is progressing, though.”
“Investigation? It sounds so ominous.”
“Yes, they think Sam was killed to shut him up.”
Mel stopped working and looked at him. “I suppose that makes sense if someone else was behind the vandalism here.”
“That’s the thinking.” Jake searched her concerned face, fighting down a disturbing, jodhpur-tightening hardness.
Why does he look at me that way? Mel turned her back on him in self-defense. The strange light in his eyes plagued her. She didn’t want there to be anger between them. She wanted closure to their problem. As long as Cory existed and as long as Jake didn’t know who she was, their disagreement would split them like competing political parties.
“After the World’s Grand Championship, I think I’ll find another job,” she observed off-handedly.
“Skipping out, huh?”
“It’s not that. I just feel it would be better for us not to work together.”
Jake didn’t answer her. She looked at him to find that his face and eyes had taken on a guarded and distant expression. Mel fought an aching need to run to him, throw her arms around his neck and kiss the distance from his heart and mind. To hide her discomfort, she turned around once more.
“Suppose we win?”
“Then you’ll have new customers and more money to hire someone to replace me,” she answered him.
“It’s not like you to give up.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m just dealing with reality.”
“What is reality?”
“The truth.”
“Yours or mine?”
Suddenly his voice was near to her ear. Mel turned quickly into his embrace. The heat of a flush crept into her face as his slick fingertips squeezed her bare arms.
“Let go of me.”
“No.”
A startling huskiness in his voice made Mel dizzy. She opened her mouth to speak just as his mouth came down and silenced her. His lips were probing, full of passion and need. His tongue interrogated hers. A shudder rippled through her whole body as she responded to his cross examination.
His lips parted from hers just as abruptly. It left Mel reeling. Only his slippery grip on her arms kept her steady.
“That’s my reality,” Jake said. “I loved you enough to let you go. It’s as simple as that. You owe me the truth.”
Mel’s heart swelled with a painful remorse. His breath was hot on her face, his eyes unwavering. She felt the steady cadence of his heart, his pulse tugging at the flesh of her arms through his fingertips. She owed it to him. He’d done nothing wrong. Pop was right. She needed to forgive. To trust.
“It’s Cory.”
The gift of her trust revealed itself in his eyes. Their blue heightened into a brilliant sparkle. In one whoosh, Jake swept Mel into a startling, bone-crushing embrace.
“Oh, Mel, I’m so glad you told me,” he whispered into her hair.
Something about the relief in his voice made her pull away. “You knew.”
“I just figured it out before you walked in.”
Mel didn’t know how to handle the triumph in his face. She moved away from him. “Now you understand why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Not really.”
“I don’t want her hurt, Jake. She’s done no
thing wrong. We were the ones who were wrong. Not to trust, not to open up. To have made her the way we did.” Mel shrugged and turned away from him, throwing down the rag.
“I would die before I let anything happen to Cory,” Jake said as he approached her. “Surely you know that?”
“I didn’t want to chance it.” Pain throbbed in Mel’s heart.
“You told me anyway.”
Mel turned to gaze into his eyes, the love within them a living thing. Was it love for her? Or for her child?
“Yes, I told you.” For some reason she felt defeated. All the years she’d kept her secret to herself stretched behind her like a treacherous trail. “I need to go home and see about Pop.”
He let her go without comment. Outside the day had drifted into night. Hot as usual in August, the night creatures had just started their ritual calls.
As Mel headed toward home, her footfalls sounded rough in the comparative silence of the darkness surrounding her. In the similar darkness that enveloped her heart, she wondered why she wasn’t happy that the truth had finally been told.
Chapter Eighteen
“Roll the dice, Mel,” Cory said.
“My turn?” Mel picked up the die and cupped it in her hand. She blew on it for good luck, her gaze filled with humor.
Jake watched the two of them, Mel on the sofa and Cory sitting cross-legged on the floor. They huddled over a game of Clue spread out on the coffee table, Cory’s blond head a stark contrast to the auburn curls of her mother.
Her mother. Jake’s heart took a nose dive. He was still not used to the idea of having a child, let alone knowing her, and like her mother, being unable to acknowledge her. He knew how Mel had suffered through the years, but she’d never let on. Never done anything to harm the child.
The injustice of the whole situation gnawed at him. Shoving a hand through his own blond hair, he scowled. Whoever said life was fair?
As Mel tossed the die and jumped her squares, Pop’s soft snoring erupted into a snort. Cory covered her mouth and eyed Jake with amusement. He winked at her as she took her turn, slipping through the secret passage into the kitchen.
“Let me see.” Cory became all business while she shuffled through her cards and consulted her notes. “I’ll suggest Professor Plum, in the kitchen with the revolver.”
A revolver. Ironic, Jake thought, that they should be playing this game after what happened to Sam.
“Jake?”
“Huh?”
Cory sighed. “You’re not paying attention.” She frowned and put her hand on her hip.
“I’m sorry.” He flipped through his own cards. “Plum, revolver, kitchen? I have this one.” He tipped the card with the revolver on it so that only Cory could see.
“Your turn,” Cory said after making a mark in her notes.
“Sure.” Jake picked up the die and tossed it onto the board. He moved two spaces.
Cory scooped up the playing piece and handed it to Mel. As she did, Jake fought the urge to sweep the little girl up into his arms and hug the stuffing out of her. He wanted to hold her as if the physical connection would miraculously undo all the wrongs and hurt they had suffered. God help him, he wanted the three of them to be a family as it should have been if Mel had trusted him and his love.
He glanced away. To be fair, he hadn’t given Mel a reason to trust him. Not with that self-serving story about his own career. He better understood what she’d done, but somehow with knowledge, their relationship had taken a turn for the worse. And he didn’t understand why.
“You all just aren’t into this game,” Cory complained, causing Jake to settle his attention back on her.
“I’m sorry, kiddo.”
Cory glanced at Mel and then at Jake. She shook her head and began putting the playing pieces away.
“What are you doing?” Mel asked.
“You all are not interested in playing. I’m not really either.”
Jake sat back. “I’m afraid you’re right.”
“That’s okay.” Cory nodded her head. “I’ll go keep Pop company until Vanessa finishes dinner.”
When the game was safely put away, Cory went over to Pop, poked him awake and crawled into his lap. Jake’s heart turned one more time. This was all so sad. Cory might never know her mother or father. She might never know that the man who was giving her a big bear hug was her own grandfather.
“I think I’ll go outside a minute.” Mel stood up.
She must have felt the futility too. He climbed to his feet and went with her, unable to remain cooped up a moment longer.
Lightening bugs winked a welcome as Jake leaned against the porch railing. It was hot and muggy even in the dark of night. Mel sat down on the steps.
“It was nice of Vanessa to make her famous spaghetti for Pop. It’s a nice send off before the championship,” she said into the darkness.
Jake made a low noise in his throat. “I’ll lose ten pounds before it’s ready.”
“Remember Vanessa’s basically an only child. She wants everything to be perfect.”
“You sound like a radio psychologist,” Jake grunted.
Mel shrugged and fell silent. He wondered if she had been thinking of herself. An only child too. Did Mel want everything to be perfect? Was that one reason she refused to tell him the truth about her pregnancy that August night so long ago? Was that why she’d avoided him this past week? Jake’s mouth tightened. His heart aching, he longed to touch the woman who sat so quietly at his feet.
Something held him back. A perverse quality within himself kept his hand idle on the old white porch railing.
“Tell me again what the sheriff said,” Mel broke the silence.
Jake took a breath, wondering if hearing it again would make it less real, less grave. “Vickers said they tested the bullet. Your ex has a gun registered in his name like the one that probably killed Sam.”
“He bought it from a German dealer.” Mel’s quiet words made Jake’s skin tingled. “A Walther, something or other. He was obsessive about the gun, because it was like James Bond’s.”
He found it hard to breathe as he watched the shadows of fear play across her face. He clutched the railing, his fingernails digging into the wood. “I hate inactivity. They have to find out who’s been doing this.”
Mel cast a quick, anxious glance at him. “No telling who will be hurt next.”
Her words hung in the night air like a prophet. Jake felt the urge to grab her into his arms, just as he had wanted to grab his daughter earlier. He wanted to hug Mel and tell her he loved her. His heart hurt when he thought of all the wasted years.
“It was a lifetime ago,” he said, not knowing where he was going. She looked up at him as if perplexed by the turn of the conversation. “I wish we could start again, wipe the slate clean.”
She glanced away. “That’s like wishing for a winning lottery ticket.”
Flinging his hand off the railing in disgust, Jake dropped down on the stairs beside Mel. A thread of moonlight laid a ribbon of light across her eyes which were hooded by her long eyelashes. He sensed wariness within her. His jaw clenched. Carefully, he lifted her chin with a fingertip. As she raised her eyes, she turned her gaze on him full force and his heart caught in his chest.
“You’re beautiful.” It didn’t seem enough to say.
Mel’s gaze became a challenge and her lips slightly parted. He accepted the invitation, and touched his mouth to hers—softly. Not demanding, just asking, his tongue teased her until her lips parted some more and allowed his slow exploration. Jake’s heartbeat, strong and steady, meshed with hers. He felt the lift of his chest as emotion surged within him like the final notes of a symphony.
The screen door suddenly banged behind them. Dragging his mouth from Mel’s, Jake turned to see Cory standing on the porch, hands on her hips, head cocked to the side.
“Vanessa said to tell you all it’s time to eat.”
She giggled and ran back into the house.
&nb
sp; * * * *
“Don’t bite me!” Mel swatted Dreamcatcher across the nose with her towel. The big bay stallion snorted and pawed the cedar shavings with a polished black hoof.
Poor guy. Mel didn’t really blame the horse for acting out. He was as nervous as the rest of them. She didn’t know if the horse understood this was the biggest Saturday night of his life, or if he’d just picked up on the tension that severed the air like lightening.
Mel’s own stomach cramped with nerves. The World’s Grand Championship. Freedom Hall. Louisville, Kentucky.
It was a big night for her too. For all of them—Royalty Farm, Pop, Vanessa, Jake and most of all for Cory. The little girl’s future rode with her two parents.
“I’m becoming too melodramatic,” she told the horse. But there was a certain firm truth about her thoughts.
As Pop had planned, Dreamcatcher and Royalty’s Dreamer had qualified in earlier events. Tonight they would face eight other horses, the best American Saddlebreds in the country. Tonight Mel and Jake would also face each other as well as other riders in hopes of bringing the prestige of the World’s Grand Championship back to Royalty Farm.
Mel raked a hard brush over the stallion’s coat. Competing with Jake was the hard part. His mere presence—his strong, muscled body and slow, dimpled smile—sent shivers of longing throughout her wayward heart. The memory of last Saturday night’s kiss, filled with its dreamy intensity, cast a glow of pleasure inside her soul.
Dreamcatcher stood patiently between the cross-ties, seeming resigned—just as Mel had resigned herself to the fact she and Jake were at an impasse. He loved her. She knew it from the way he acted.
But what sort of future did they have? Her failure to tell him the truth about her pregnancy had created a barrier that might never be scaled. Mel’s hand and brush paused at the horse’s withers. With her free hand, she grabbed a chunk of black mane and leaned her forehead against Dreamcatcher’s damp shoulder. His skin twitched beneath her weight. Mel knew as well as she knew the contours of the stallion’s broad back that she had created the barrier simply because she was finding it hard to forgive herself.
Kentucky Flame Page 19