Amanda

by Kay Hooper

  Beau soared over the last jump, a stack of hay bales sprouting oat seedlings, and shook his head fiercely when Sully eased back on the reins. But he gradually obeyed the skilled and patient touch of his rider, and by the time the trail began meandering back down the mountain toward Glory, the stallion was moving at a shambling walk.

  Sully wished his own edgy temperament could be as easily calmed. Not, of course, that the hand on his reins was overly patient—but Jesse was certainly skilled at forcing obedience from those around him. Give the old man his due: even on his last legs he was still firmly in charge.

  Automatically, Sully guided his horse off the main trail, stopping a moment later on an overlook formed by a small granite outcropping. From here there was an exceptional view of the valley below. An exceptional view of Glory.

  Back in college, Sully could remember when one of his friends had been dumped by the girl he’d dated since puberty. “She broke my heart,” he had said numbly. Some of the guys had laughed, but Sully hadn’t. Because he knew how it felt to love something so much it was terrifying, the loss or threatened loss of it crippling. He knew.

  Sprawling out across the valley, Glory was so beautiful it made his chest ache almost unbearably. The house and garden, the rolling pastures dotted with glossy horses, the neat stables fanning out on a hill on the other side of the house and, beyond them, the training ring he had designed and built almost entirely with his own hands. It was more than home, it was his soul, his lifeblood. The years away at college had been agony, and he literally couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  Sully saw Beau’s ear flick back, felt the animal shift uneasily, and realized only then that some curse had escaped his lips with a viciousness the horse responded to instinctively. He made a conscious effort to relax, reaching up a hand to stroke the shining black neck.

  “Easy, boy. Easy.” The high-strung stallion was perfectly capable of launching himself off this overlook if he took a mind to, and then they’d both end up at the base of the mountain with maybe two unbroken bones left between them. That would solve his problems once and for all. Yes, sir. He’d be gone, and when Jesse finally met his Maker, Reece and Kate could join forces and fight the will the old man would undoubtedly make in favor of his long-lost Amanda.

  Sully stroked his horse with a gentle hand and scowled out over the peaceful beauty of Glory. Amanda. But was she Amanda? Walker McLellan didn’t think so, and though he tended to be a cautious bastard even for a lawyer, he was no fool when it came to people. She looked sort of right, even if she was about half the size of most Daultons, but Sully had been so furious when he’d stared at her that he couldn’t remember much beyond black hair and grayish eyes.

  Not that any of that mattered. All that mattered was whether Jesse accepted this woman as Amanda, and he’d made it pretty damned plain even before she’d arrived that he believed—even in the face of vague holes in her story and Walker’s repeated warnings to be skeptical—that she was his granddaughter.

  He wanted his precious Amanda back before he turned up his toes, and by God he meant to have her back.

  This time when Sully spoke, it was softly so as not to disturb his nervous horse, but the words were no less fierce.

  “You won’t take Glory away from me. I’ll see you in hell first.”

  THE DOGS SHOWED NO SIGNS OF WANTING to stray from her side. While Amanda wandered toward the rear of the house, looking into rooms as she slowly got her bearings, they matched their pace to hers. She stroked them from time to time or scratched idly behind a pointed ear, but she was paying more attention to her surroundings than to the dogs.

  The large front parlor where she had met Jesse and the others took up most of one side of the long hallway, but on the other side was a room with a locked door (Jesse’s study, she was willing to bet, and interesting that he apparently felt the need to lock doors in his own house); another parlor or den boasting an extensive audio and video entertainment system—top of the line, naturally; a small, neat half bath (or powder room); and a spacious formal dining room.

  Across from the dining room was the kitchen, where Amanda hesitantly introduced herself to the tall, bone-thin cook for Glory, a middle-aged woman named Earlene. She was peeling potatoes, and when Amanda asked—again diffidently—she explained that there were three maids who did the housework, coming in daily and always finished by noon.

  “Always?” Amanda asked, surprised.

  “Of course. Mr. Jesse can’t abide tripping over people every time he turns around, so the household staff, gardeners, and groundskeepers come early and get their work done by noon. ’Cept me, naturally. But the cooking’s no problem, and I’d just as soon have the kitchen to myself. Maggie helps serve and clean up after meals, and that’s all the help I need most days.” She handed Amanda a slice of raw potato with the reflex action of someone born to feed others.

  Absently munching on the starchy treat, Amanda said, “Then I should be out of my room early every morning?”

  “Lord, no, child, you get up whenever you please. The girls will do the downstairs first, and any unoccupied rooms on the second floor, but they won’t disturb you. Maggie has them trained right. They aren’t even allowed to run a vacuum until Mr. Jesse’s up and has his breakfast—usually by about ten. Just leave your bedroom door open when you leave the room, and They’ll take care of it.”

  “Mmm. And the groundskeepers do their work in the morning?”

  “Yes—the mowing last thing, of course, after everybody’s up. Sherman—he’s the head gardener—always asks me or Maggie, just to make sure. Mr. Jesse would not be happy if one of those godawful machines woke him up.”

  “I guess not. Are there many gardeners?”

  “Four. Well, Luke is really the pool man, but he helps out with the rest once his work is done.”

  “there’s a pool?”

  Earlene seemed a little amused by all the questions, but not especially surprised by them. “Mr. Jesse put it in about ten years ago, just before I came to work at Glory. It’s out past the sunroom.”

  Amanda accepted another slice of potato, then looked down guiltily when one of the dogs leaned against her leg and whined softly. “I guess I should have kept them from coming in here,” she said to the cook.

  “They have the run of the house.” Earlene was concentrating on her work again. “Looks like they’ve taken a shine to you. Mr. Jesse’ll be pleased by that, I expect.”

  “Are they—attack dogs?” Amanda asked.

  “Guard dogs, supposedly, whatever the difference is. Either one will tear an arm off a stranger if he invades their territory, is what I hear. Nice names he gave them, don’t you think?”

  There was no sarcasm in that calm voice, but Amanda’s response was wry. “Just dandy. Was he trying to make a point, or was the aim to scare the pants off unwary visitors?”

  “you’ll have to ask Mr. Jesse that.” Earlene paused, then added deliberately, “he’s not an easy man to understand. Hard, some say, but I’ve always found him fair.” She turned her head suddenly and smiled. “Of course, I know how to make all his favorites just the way he likes them, so I generally see his good side.”

  Amanda smiled in return. “Well, I’ll get out of your way. Thanks, Earlene. Come on, guys—let’s go see the sunroom and the pool.”

  It was only a few more steps down the hall and around an unexpected corner to the sunroom, a large addition built onto the house sometime during the past fifteen or twenty years from what had been a tiled patio. The ceiling was half glass to let in a maximum amount of light, the walls were made up almost entirely of French-style windows, most of which could be opened like doors, and the combination of white wicker and black wrought-iron furniture with floral cushions was set off beautifully by a stunning profusion of healthy plants and flowers growing in decorative clay pots and wicker baskets.

  Set at the north end of the main house and half shaded on its western side by the rear wing, which gave Glory its L shape, th
e sunroom was clearly designed to be a pleasant place from morning to afternoon. And, judging by the wrought-iron, glass-topped table that could easily seat six or eight people, any number of meals were probably taken out here.

  At least Amanda hoped that was so. This was much nicer and considerably less daunting than the formal dining room down the hall.

  One set of French doors was standing open, and she walked outside into the bright sunlight and down several wide steps to find the promised pool. It was there, a neat oval on the same large scale as everything else here, surrounded by ceramic tiles that formed a wide patio all the way to the house on two sides and beautifully lush landscaping that included a truly exquisite waterfall spilling into the pool.

  With her canine escorts still pacing dutifully at her sides, Amanda walked to the ribbon of tile along the side of the pool nearest the garden and stood looking around. Since the house was on a slight rise, the land fell away gently and gradually just past the pool, and she could see over the casually laid-out garden all the way to the stables, about a mile away to the northeast. She could also see, beyond the garden and directly north between mountains that shouldered each other as if for room, the rolling green pastures that spread out for the length of the huge valley, seemingly forever.

  Daulton land. As far as she could see, farther, was Daulton land. The mountains that looked down on this valley were Daulton, and the next valley over was Daulton and probably the one beyond that. Even the small town ten miles away was named Daulton for the family that had helped found it and sustain it. …

  Amanda fought the sudden panic, telling herself fiercely that she would not let herself be overwhelmed by these enormous people with their forceful personalities and effortless power. She would not.

  The panic subsided, if slowly, and Amanda flexed her stiff shoulders methodically in an effort to relax. She patted the whimpering dogs, then murmured, “Onward, guys,” and followed a neat gravelled path down into the garden. It was, as Maggie had said, lovely, with any number of flowers and blooming plants offering their colors. There were stone benches scattered here and there, a massive oak tree at the northwest corner of the garden provided plentiful shade for those plants and people preferring it, and the meandering paths invited lazy strolls.

  She hadn’t intended to go beyond the garden, at least not today, but her escort had other ideas. When she would have turned away from a path that clearly led out of the garden and toward the distant stables, the dogs rather insistently objected, whining as they stood on the path.

  They were no doubt anxious to be reunited with their master, and inexplicably wanted her company, and though she didn’t feel ready to face the stables yet, she felt even less inclined to protest. Like Earlene, Amanda wasn’t entirely sure of the distinction between an attack dog and one trained to guard, and she was reluctant to upset her new chums just to find out how they would react.

  “All right, all right, We’ll do it your way. But if you two intend to get anywhere near a horse—you’re on your own,” she told them uneasily.

  It wasn’t an overly long or unpleasant walk out to the stables, and since Amanda habitually wore comfortable shoes she wasn’t worried about her heels sinking into the ground or grass stains on her loafers. Instead, she occupied her time in erecting the calmest facade of which she was capable, knowing that she would very likely need it. Even before she reached the stables, the breeze brought her the scent of horses, and her stomach tied itself into queasy knots.

  Horses. Why did there have to be horses?

  The path led toward the center two of four separate buildings arranged in a fan shape, and she was relieved to immediately see Jesse leaning against the fence surrounding a small training ring between the two center barns; she wouldn’t have to actually go inside one of the stables, then, thank God. Jesse was watching a chestnut horse on a long longe line trotting in a circle around yet another tall man—this one blond and ruggedly handsome—with Kate standing nearby holding another horse.

  “Reverse him, Ben,” Jesse called, then caught sight of Amanda approaching. An immediate smile lit his face, but it faded a bit when he noticed the dogs still at her side, and his voice was a rather incongruous blend of gentleness and censure. “I’m glad You’ve made friends with them, honey, but you should have waited for me to introduce you. It’s dangerous to approach trained guard dogs when they don’t know you.”

  Amanda hesitated, then shrugged as she stopped a couple of feet away from him. “I didn’t have a choice, I’m afraid. Somebody must have accidentally let them loose.”

  Jesse frowned. “Nobody in my house would do such a stupid thing, Amanda.”

  She shrugged again, unwilling to make an issue out of it. “Well, it worked out all right. They wanted to come down here, so I came along.” The dogs were frisking around Jesse now, obviously happy to be with him—an interesting reaction, since he didn’t pet or speak to them. Amanda glanced past him at Kate and nodded a greeting, tentative because the older woman was so preternaturally serene.

  Kate nodded in return, but all she said was, “You don’t like horses, do you?”

  “Nonsense, of course she does,” Jesse snapped without looking at his daughter.

  Amanda, who had hoped her wary glances toward the horse trotting in a circle only a few feet away had passed unnoticed, managed a faint smile. “Actually, Jesse, I’m afraid I don’t. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “You loved horses when you were a child. And you were fearless—you’d climb up on any horse, no matter how wild, and go anywhere. We could hardly keep you out of the stables.”

  “People change.” She knew it was a lame comment, but it was the best she could do.

  “I’m sure it’ll come back to you if you’ll just—”

  “No.” Amanda took a step backward before she could stop herself, then went still as she realized he wasn’t going to grab her and throw her up on the nearest horse willy-nilly. “No, I—I don’t like them, Jesse. Really. In fact, I think I’ll go back to the house.”

  “Wait a minute, and We’ll walk up together.” Jesse was clearly disappointed by her feelings, but showed none of the scorn he had demonstrated when Reece had indicated his lack of passion for horses. He watched the horse in the ring a minute or so longer, his gaze intent, then nodded and called out, “Okay, Ben, that’s enough.”

  “I think he might be up to Sully’s weight,” the blond man called back as he stopped the horse and gathered up the long longe line.

  Jesse grunted. “Maybe.” He waited until the man led the chestnut up to the fence, then said, “Honey, this is Ben Prescott, one of our trainers. Ben—my granddaughter, Amanda.” His voice was filled with pride on the last three words, and his smile was exultant.

  Made uncomfortable by the repeated endearment and peculiarly conscious of Kate’s silent attention, Amanda forced herself to smile at the blond man. “Hi, Ben.”

  “Nice to meet you, Amanda,” he returned politely. He was about her own age, maybe a year or two older, she thought, and she liked the steady way he met her gaze. She also liked the fact that he didn’t show a sign of scorn or even awareness when she eased back away from the fence—and the horse.

  “Put him in with Sully’s string for the time being,” Jesse told Ben. “The bay needs to go to Kathy; she has the lightest touch.”

  “Right. I’ll see to it.” Ben led the chestnut toward the gate on the far side of the ring. He nodded at Kate as he passed her, saying, “I’ll take the bay over to barn four as soon as this one’s stabled.”

  “Don’t bother,” she replied. “I’ll take him.”

  Amanda looked at Jesse, then at Kate. “You aren’t coming to the house?”

  “Not just yet.” Kate smiled suddenly. “I have something to take care of first.”

  Amanda hesitated a moment longer, then turned away from the older woman and joined Jesse on the path that would take them back to Glory. Them—and the guard dogs he had named Bundy and
Gacy after two of the most vicious killers ever known.

  Each of the four barns had a small apartment taking up about a quarter of the loft space. The apartments could be reached either by an exterior stair or a second stair inside each barn; each apartment had water and power and all the other modern conveniences—except air conditioning. Jesse claimed it would bother the horses.

  The apartments were occupied according to seniority and choice; most of the trainers and riders preferred to live nearer to town, but several found it more comfortable or convenient to remain here even during most of their off hours.

  It was to the apartment above barn number four that Kate went after she’d taken the bay horse to his stall in the building. She didn’t sneak, but she did take care that no one observed her climb the outer stairs and let herself into the quiet, neat little apartment. There were a few sounds from the barn below, the snorts and nickers of the horses, an occasional laugh or shout from one of the trainers or young riders, the clank of a chain and the thud of something heavy falling to the ground.

  She didn’t have long to wait. It was midafternoon, hardly the best time to expect privacy, but Kate didn’t care. As soon as he came into the apartment, she pushed the door shut and went into his arms. He smelled of leather and horses and sunlight, strong, earthy scents that made her blood run hot and her heart thud wildly against her ribs.

  His mouth ground into hers and she moaned, her fingers lifting quickly to her blouse and coping with the buttons in feverish haste. She could feel him struggling with his own clothing, but the heat between them built quickly to such a frenzied pitch that neither of them managed to get completely naked. Her bra, unfastened between the cups, dangled from her shoulders, and though she managed to get her panties off, the buttons of her skirt were stubborn and the garment was rucked up around her waist when he pushed her back against the wall and kneed her legs apart. And though he managed to get rid of his shirt, his jeans and shorts were shoved down only as far as necessary.