Blood Ties a Broken Heart

by Cassandra Hawke

  There were some stunning horses involved today, mostly thoroughbreds, but she had seen a couple of warmbloods being prepared for the CCI4* competition. What she was actually seeking were newcomers to international eventing, perhaps those needing the facilities she could provide.

  Rylee made herself comfortable as the first of the competitors entered the ring. A young rider from Victoria, Jaynee Amos, on her ten-year-old gelding thoroughbred, Felka Abbey. Rylee watched every move of horse and rider, almost feeling each action. Part of her pined for what she had lost by giving up competing.

  In between each competitor she scanned the grandstand, every nerve ending twitching in anticipation of his appearance. If Ash didn’t come before, he would when Arden made her appearance. Rylee knew that dressage was not Arden’s forte because she was too impatient and she never seemed to quite be in harmony with her mount. Rylee wasn’t sure she wanted to watch Arden compete but something held her frozen to the seat with a tortured gaze focused on the arena as she heard Arden’s name announced. Rylee glanced around the edge of the arena and the grandstand but could not see Ash.

  Her first ride was a Clydesdale-thoroughbred cross, Cockatoo Ridge Jackaroo. The big gelding had beautifully smooth gaits and his transitions were fluid. As the pair proceeded through the tests, everything seemed technically perfect, but there was something missing—an edginess about the horse and just the slightest hesitation in paying attention to Arden. That lack of harmony was reflected in the score given, and Rylee could see Arden was far from happy as she rode from the arena.

  * * * *

  When Rylee returned from having some lunch, she settled back in her seat to wait for Arden’s second ride. She had bought an equestrian magazine to look through to see what suitable horses might be available to add to her small collection. She had identified an un-catered to niche in the market of promising young riders wanting to compete without having to invest immediately in their own horse. With a couple of good horses, she could attract these younger riders and improve her reputation at the same time. She closed the magazine when Arden’s name was announced.

  Arden entered the arena at a collected canter and halted to salute the judges. Her second horse, Copper River, was an Australian stock horse x thoroughbred—a stunning chestnut. The horse seemed edgy, even as it moved off in a collected trot.

  Rylee looked around, convinced Ash would be there somewhere, observing his sister’s progress. There he was, in the front row of chairs, leaning forward as if to get a better view. Her chest tightened, cramping her breathing, as she sat motionless in her seat. Rylee studied the curve of his shoulders and the back of his neck. Every nerve ending tingled as if she was touching him with her fingers, gliding through the silken strands of dark hair. Even as she sucked in tiny breaths, she imagined she could smell his cologne. As he straightened, she watched the muscles in his back and shoulders undulate and flex beneath the thin material of his shirt. Warmth ignited in her and her pussy burned with a primal craving and moistened with anticipation. Her arms ached with the need to hold him. Her soul called to him.

  She appraised him so intensely with hungry eyes. He had already turned before she realized, and she couldn’t break her gaze from his when she caught him staring up at her his expression filled with longing. With a slow, sensuous stroke, he wet his lips and the tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Rylee watched his chest rise and fall in an agitated rhythm, and his body become more erect. He examined her with his intense stare, the probing look, assessing every inch of her body, lingering and exploring, in a way his hands never had. She squirmed under his blatant scrutiny, fighting the fiery passion racing through her body, making her pussy and the flesh around it throb with arousal. The soft swell of her breasts above the scooped neckline of her tee tightened and she was aware of the push of her nipples against the laciness of her bra. Without breaking eye contact with her, he rested his hand on the back of the seat and sensuously stroked the wood with his fingers. Rylee shivered. Ash brought his hand up and ran it through his hair as he looked down at his lap, then back at her. Instinctively she reached up and touched her own hair and tucked a couple of wayward curls behind her ear. She struggled to breathe.

  He rose and shuffled his way along the chairs, never breaking her gaze. She watched him, spellbound by his nearness, his sexiness and her longing. It was only when he began to climb the steps that the sexy haze of need shattered into bitterness and reproach. Rylee leaped out of her seat, scuttled sideway to the aisle and sprinted down the stairs. She paused and looked over her shoulder. Ash stood in the adjacent aisle. As he got closer, she could see that his expression was filled with wretchedness. He mouthed the word ‘please’ as he held his hands out wide. She gave a tiny shake of her head, tore her gaze from his and fled down the steps. I can’t do this. To face him like that—to feel like that. Torment ripped through her, the pain of her rejection assaulting her heart and rending it in two. Sobs forced their way from her chest, catching painfully in her throat before escaping as distorted yowls and squeaks. Tears blurred her vision as she stumbled through the strolling crowds, horses and taped off areas. With as sudden whoosh the emotion drained from her and she halted in the shade of a tree. She stood panting. What the hell was I thinking? To let him get to me like that. Ten years hasn’t changed a thing. How could I be so stupid to think it had? Rylee pressed her forehead against the rough bark of the trunk and sniffed. Damn I am better than this—stronger. If Ashford St. Clair wants to moon over me, let him. There can’t be anything between us while he maintains the lie.

  Angry at herself for letting the encounter totally demolish her interest in the day’s events, she rinsed her face with water from a drinking fountain and walked back to grandstand, her head held high, her back straight. She took a seat a little higher than before and pulled her hat well down over her face. One quick look confirmed that Ash had not returned to his seat.

  Rylee made herself comfortable and enjoyed the remainder of the dressage, eventually becoming so absorbed she even forgot to watch for Ash.

  * * * *

  Determined to make the most of the second day of the event, Rylee headed into town early. Today was the cross-country section of the event and her favorite. It was also Arden’s best discipline because it was fast, challenging and not without its dangers.

  Rylee found a place to observe the cross-country near one of the water jumps. The course seemed challenging and spectacular, and with the length of it, Rylee didn’t expect to bump into Ash as she had yesterday.

  Arden came round on Copper River, executing the ditch and brush fence with precision and style. Arden appeared confident and her horse willing as she went flying past. As Arden disappeared behind the trees, Rylee realized how tightly she was clutching the bunting. Rank bitterness swept over her for what could have been as she made her way to the water jump. At this stage of the course Arden’s would be tiring and the jump needed to be treated with respect or they wouldn’t clear the pelican on the way out. It would give her great pleasure to see Arden unseated into the water. Rylee remembered how much Arden hated getting dumped and wet. As she waited for Arden to come around, memories of that last competition crowded into her head. It had been her decision to give up competition and even to this day accepted it was the right decision for her, but the last couple of days had stirred her competitive edge and memories of the rewards she got from competing at a high level.

  She heard Copper River coming and turned to watch his approach. The horse seemed to be struggling, breathing hard as Arden pushed him at a cracking pace. He cleared the wide log and landed well balanced in the water. Arden urged him on and he jumped the raft cleanly, but he took one look at the black and white pelican shaped jump and veered to the right, almost unseating Arden.

  She brought him around, obviously furious from the way she yanked on the reins and kicked the tired horse’s sides. He came again, baulked and backed up. Rylee smiled. That’s forty penalty points. Just one more r
efusal, Copper love—just one more as she’s out.

  Rylee almost felt guilty when Arden urged her horse at the bizarre-shaped bird jump and Copper River, snorting and shaking his head, planted his feet and refused to attempt the jump. Arden was almost ejected from the saddle and over his head, but to Rylee’s disappointment, she stayed seated. Nevertheless, she was eliminated from the competition.

  * * * *

  With Arden now having no chance of joining the top riders in the winner’s circle or qualifying for Olympic team this time round, Rylee felt relatively happy as she trudged back to the car to meet Regan for lunch. While she had struggled to sleep last night, she had thought long and hard about Ash and determined where she stood as far as he was concerned. There was no denying her sexual attraction to him. It had never waned, but there could be no relationship between them. Nothing except a complete retraction of the doping lie could bridge the chasm that lay between them. But to Rylee it was more than just his public profile as a horse doper. He had claimed to love her and yet when it came down to a choice between her, the truth, his professed love and his sister Arden—Arden had won. It hurt. Rylee felt betrayed, almost as if he had cheated on her. And the fact he’d thought it wouldn’t matter offended her even more. Yesterday he had caught her off guard. He wouldn’t do that again because from now on, she would be fortifying herself against the torrent of lust that had swamped her unguarded heart when she gazed into his eyes.

  With her head down to shade her eyes from the glare of the sun filtering through the trees, she hurried round the last of the tents and toward the car park. She heard him before she saw him. The familiar deep, husky timbre of his voice resonated along her spine. She shivered and looked up to see him just a few feet away, perched on the bonnet of a car, his arms folded across his chest, his handsome features partially hidden by his Akubra. Dressed casually in taupe dress shorts and a lemon button-through shirt, he was as handsome as ever. Rylee froze in the skimpy shadow of the tent, watching him. She didn’t recognize the man he was talking with, but their conversation seemed intense.

  Afraid of being seen, she backed up a little into the canvas wall of the tent, not taking her eyes off him for a second. He appeared tired and stressed, with a restlessness about him that had not been there before, and Rylee wondered what had happened to him while she’d been gone. She hadn’t forgotten the shame that had consumed him after the incident.

  Nausea suddenly rushed over her and the world spun in a dizzying spiral. She clutched the ropes that held the tent in place with a desperate grip and cursed her failure to wear a hat. She had to stay upright or there would be no dignity for her in their inevitable confrontation. As she made to sneak around the corner of the tent, the ground wobbled and she swayed. The rope grazed her palms as she crumpled to the grass, blackness shut out any coherent thoughts.

  “Rylee, open your eyes. Are you all right?” Ash asked, gently bathing her face with his wet hanky.

  He cradled her head in his hand, the scent of his aftershave tickling at her nostrils as he brushed her hair off her face with tender strokes of his fingers. Tears trickled from under her eyelids as the pain of loving him seared through her. She opened her eyes to meet his concerned look and almost shut them again to cut out the sight of him.

  He assessed her with a dark, unfathomable look. She wondered if he could read the emotions in her expression and decided to leave himself room to retreat if she berated him with contempt or fury. He smiled, suddenly and unexpectedly—a lazy, sexy smile—full, pouting and undeniably kissable. The small crow’s feet that crinkled in the corners of his eyes enhanced the smoky seductiveness of his stare. Rylee remembered the taste of him and shivered with need.

  “Rylee,” he said again.

  “Ash,” she responded, struggling to get even that single word out of her constricted throat. So much for guarding against the rush of lust or is it something more—love, perhaps? Even to ask that question speared pain through her and she knew in that moment she could not run from the competing feelings deep in her heart. She hated him for what he represented, and yet, she loved him for the man himself.

  “Are you all right? Can you stand?” he asked, already reaching around her to lift her from the ground.

  She nodded and let him assist her, luxuriating in his touch for just a moment—a precious, dangerous moment. “I’m fine, Ash. Thank you. I left my hat somewhere—just a bit too much sun, I think.”

  He let her go when she deliberately stepped back from him. They looked at each other. Rylee couldn’t find the words to express how she felt, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to walk away with nothing said.

  “You came to the funeral,” she finally whispered, breathlessly.

  He nodded. “Aileen Jones was a good woman, an admirable horsewoman, so I came to pay my respects, despite our past differences. I hoped you would be there. I knew how much you loved her.”

  “I’m taking over the stables, and I intend to build it up into a reputable equestrian establishment.”

  Ash frowned. “And you don’t want me tainting your reputation. Right?”

  “I’m sorry, Ash, but there can never be anything between us. You destroyed our love the day you covered up the mistreatment of Arden’s horses. No matter how I feel about you, I can’t afford to be tainted by your reputation.”

  He reached out and gripped her forearms as he leaned closer. “You know it wasn’t me, don’t you? You know I was covering for Arden—a one-off mistake that could have killed her dream of riding in the Olympics.”

  A sudden rush of resentment stiffened her body. Ash let go of her.

  “I know, but it doesn’t matter. You publicly owned up to doing it. Mud sticks,” she said.

  “Rylee, please, I love you. Don’t reject me like this.”

  His words seared through her. Her heart pumped hard, trying to keep the blood flowing through her frozen veins. Every inch of her lusted with need. The skin he touched felt alive and tingling. Her chest ached as she held down her sobs. She pulled away from him and almost sagged to the ground. With a herculean effort, she held herself upright. Her mouth was so dry she struggled to speak, tearing her tongue away from the roof of her mouth.

  “We have no future, not while you willingly take the blame and continue to support Arden.”

  “For God’s sake, Rylee, she’s my baby sister. I have to support her.”

  “No you don’t, not if she’s doing wrong.”

  Ash swept his hat from his head and ran his hands through his hair. “But it was only once,” he said.

  “So you claim, but it’s not true. Open your eyes. See what’s going on. You have to choose—Arden or me.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Then I’ll choose for you, Ash.” She immediately turned and walked away.

  Staggered was probably a more apt description. She struggled to put one foot in front of the other, her chest clamped tight against gulping sobs and her throat dry and burning. She held herself together, but she couldn’t stop the tears from escaping and rolling down her cheeks. As she struggled to find her way back to the car with blurred vision and her mind a mush of contradictory thoughts, she cursed the emotion that held her captive to Ash’s spell. After reaching the car, she collapsed in the front seat before being overwhelmed by heaving sobs.

  She was so engulfed in her misery she startled when the driver’s door opened and her brother slid in beside her.

  “So, you saw him then, sis?” Regan’s voice sounded gentle and soothing.

  She nodded.

  “Shall we go home?” he asked.

  She nodded again. Regan sighed as he started the car. They made the journey from the city in silence, but even as Rylee fought for control of her emotions, she sensed Regan’s frustration and even disapproval.

  * * * *

  She’d waited tensely throughout the drive for him to chastise her, and he turned on her the moment they entered the house.

  “For God’s sake
, Rylee, give up the stables if he means so much to you. Aileen would understand. I am sure she never meant you to suffer like this.”

  She stood there, letting his anger crash over her. He didn’t understand and she didn’t know how to make him. Without replying, she went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

  Regan followed her. “I’m sorry for shouting, sis. But I can’t bear seeing you in so much pain. All those years at home and still you grieve him.”

  She poured a cup of tea for both of them and handed Regan his before replying. “Regan, it isn’t that simple. Even if I give up the stables and turn my back on Aunt Aileen’s gift to me, I can’t be with Ash. If we were together, it would be like condoning his actions, condoning Arden’s cheating and cruelty. I can’t tolerate cruelty to animals, so unless Ash declares himself innocent, I can’t be with him, and he won’t do that because Arden comes first. He won’t clear himself because it will destroy her chances of competing in the Olympics, and he’ll never do that, not even for me.”

  “Well then he’s not worth it, sis.”

  She nodded. “I know, but I can’t help how I feel. I don’t know how to turn the feelings off.”

  Chapter Two

  One thing Rylee could do was bury the troubling emotions deep, under a barrage of activity—in this case the rejuvenation of the stables. Together with Regan, she worked on the renovations—painting, re-roofing, putting up new fences and improving pastures. Every night she came inside so tired that she fell asleep the instant her head touched the pillow. When the worst of the renovations were done, they went out in search of suitable horses to supplement the six ponies and three horses Aileen had retained for general hacking and novice endurance riding—Monti, Zea and Lord Thornleigh, known affectionately as Thor, and of course dear old Shannon, Aileen’s own horse.