Amanda (28 page)

The dogs weren’t waiting outside her door, which was unusual, but Amanda didn’t think much about it. She went downstairs and into the kitchen, finding Earlene preparing some of the fresh-baked bread Jesse enjoyed so much.

“Morning. You look bright-eyed today.”

“Morning. Do I?” Amanda fixed herself a cup of tea; she preferred it to coffee, and Earlene always kept a steaming kettle ready in the mornings. “I … had a good night.”

“You must be getting used to the heat,” Earlene remarked.

“Mmm.” Amanda fought a sudden and ridiculous impulse to giggle.

“Want your usual breakfast?”

“Yes, just fruit, I think.” The blueberry-baneberry-whatever pie hadn’t spoiled her taste for fruit, though she doubted she’d ever be able to look at a pie in the same way again. “Is it on the table?”

Earlene nodded. “You should eat more,” she said in what was becoming a litany. “Eggs, bacon, pancakes— you know I’ll fix whatever you’d like—”

Amanda patted her arm. “I’m fine, Earlene, really. I’ll just have fruit.” And, to avoid further conversation on the subject, added, “Who else is up?”

“Everyone, for once. Even Reece. And Jesse, because he has to go to Asheville this morning.”

It was rare that everyone sat down to breakfast together, and Amanda couldn’t help hoping the meal would be more peaceful than suppers tended to be.

She got as far as the doorway, then paused and looked back. “Earlene, have you seen the dogs?”

“No, not this morning. I usually let them out for their morning run when I come in, but not today,” the cook replied. Earlene lived in; she had her own suite of rooms in the rear wing, where Sully, Kate, and Maggie also had bedrooms.

“Somebody else probably let them out then.”

“Probably.”

Amanda looked at her watch as she went toward the sunroom; it was a little before seven, early for her. That was probably why she felt vaguely uneasy, she decided, because she was normally still asleep at this ungodly hour. That, and her active night.

Jesse was in the sunroom. So were Maggie, Kate,
Sully, and Reece. The doors to the patio were open. But the dogs were nowhere to be seen.

Amanda greeted the others politely and went to her place at the glass-topped table. She was relieved to see that everyone appeared to be in a good mood; even Sully nodded courteously in response to her good morning, before concentrating once more on his breakfast.

“Sleep well, honey?” Jesse asked as she sat down.

“Fine. Are you sure I can’t go with you today?”

“The meeting’ll probably drag on until after’ lunch, Amanda; you’d just be bored.”

“Maybe, but I could sit with you at the hospital later.”

Unlike the others, who seemed to tread carefully regarding Jesse’s medical treatments, Amanda had been blunt with him since their conflict over the will had begun. She knew how sick he was, she had told him forthrightly—believing, as Walker did, that the old man definitely did not want pity—and she had no intention of pussyfooting around the subject.

Jesse had seemed rather pleased about that.

His harsh face softened now as he looked at her, and Amanda thought, as she had before, that no one in this house could mistake that look. She had power. As long as Jesse was alive, she had great power.

“I don’t think so, honey, but thanks.”

Amanda rolled her eyes a bit, but accepted his refusal and began serving herself some fruit. “All right. Has anyone seen the dogs?”

Everyone shook their heads, with Jesse replying, “Not this morning. Earlene probably let them out for their run, and they haven’t come back yet.”

Amanda started to say that the cook had denied this, but decided it didn’t really matter. With the patio doors open—as they were every morning before
breakfast—the dogs had undoubtedly gone out on their own some time earlier.

The old man turned his attention to his younger grandson, and for once his voice was relatively pleasant. “Sully, when Victor finally gets back—”

“He did, sometime last night,” Sully reported. “Or, at least, the van did. I saw it parked outside barn two when I looked out my window this morning.”

“it’s about time,” Jesse said, but mildly and not as though he blamed Sully personally for the delay. “Tell him I’ll want to see the paperwork on the new horses tomorrow afternoon.”

“All right, I’ll tell him.” Sully sent his grandfather a slightly wary glance and, apparently encouraged by Jesse’s exceptional calm this morning, added, “I’ve been meaning to tell you, that new rider I hired last week is working out fine. In fact, she’s good enough to show.”

“About time we found another decent rider.” Jesse’s voice was still mild. “She just turn up looking for a job?”

“Pretty much. Had all her stuff packed into a beat-up Jeep. But her boots are first-rate, and so’s her tack; she’s spent most of her life around horses, I’d say. I put her in the apartment over barn one, since it was empty and no one else wanted it.”

“Who is she, Sully?” Maggie asked curiously.

He shrugged. “Name’s Leslie Kidd. I’d never heard of her; she says she’s ridden mostly on the West Coast. I had her up on a few of our worst horses to try her out, and she did great.”

From Sully, that was extraordinarily high praise; he did not throw the word
great
around casually.

“Ben says she’s very talented,” Kate remarked.

“Is she riding for him too?” Amanda asked, thinking that Kate was apparently taking her relationship
with the trainer public; they were beginning to spend time together openly, and this wasn’t the first casual remark she’d made about him in the presence of the family.

“He said he stole her away from Sully for one of his horses,” Kate replied with a smile, “because she has a way of reaching the difficult ones that’s almost eerie.”

“I think she’s telepathic with them,” Sully said with evident seriousness. “And if you see Ben before I do, Kate, tell him to keep his paws off my riders—he has half a dozen of his own.” His tone was faintly amused rather than annoyed.

Sully and Ben, like the other two trainers at Glory, each had their own string of horses and their own riders, but they did occasionally require a particular skill from a rider working under another trainer. Since Sully oversaw all the training, he also more or less had his pick of riders; it was rare that anyone borrowed from
him.

“I’ll tell him,” Kate replied. “But he might fight you for her, Sully. He’s very impressed.”

Sully grunted and returned his attention to his breakfast just as Reece pushed his chair back from the table. He seemed a bit preoccupied, and looked somewhat tired.

“I’ve got to go. Anybody need a ride into town?”

Kate said, “Maggie and I are going into town to do some shopping this morning, but we won’t leave until a little later. Thanks anyway, Reece.”

He lifted a hand in farewell and left the sunroom.

“Amanda, you’re more than welcome, if you’d like to come,” Kate offered.

“Thanks, but not today, I think.” Amanda smiled at her.

“Sure?”

“I’m sure.” Victor was back, and Amanda had every intention of talking to him as soon as possible— even if that meant braving the stables. It made her feel shaky just to
think
about going down there, but she had little choice. If she waited until Victor came to the house to talk to Jesse tomorrow, it might not be possible to speak to him alone, or unobserved—and since she didn’t know what he would tell her, discretion seemed advisable.

In fact, it seemed essential.

Still without her usual canine escort, but deciding that putting off the ordeal would only make it worse, Amanda set off down the path toward the stables shortly after breakfast. Maggie and Kate were getting ready for their shopping trip, Jesse had left in his Cadillac for Asheville, and Sully had gone to the stables no more than ten minutes before Amanda headed in that direction.

So she was surprised to see him striding toward her when she had covered little more than half the distance. She stopped, waiting for him, and the closer he got, the more uneasy Amanda became.

“Sully? What’s wrong?”

His harsh face was very grim, and when he spoke his voice was the same. “Has Jesse left?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Damn. Where are you going, Amanda?”

She gestured slightly past him toward the stables. “Down there. I don’t
like
being afraid of horses, you know. I thought I’d try again.”

“Better make it another day.”

“But why? If you think I’ll get in the way—”

Sully hesitated, then said, “No, but— Look, just
stay away from barn two, will you? That’s the second one from the right.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s been an accident, and I’m afraid it isn’t very pretty. I’ve called the sheriff, and I was hoping Jesse was still here. …”

Amanda felt very cold. She was afraid to think, afraid even to guess. “An accident? You mean … a horse?”

“No. Victor. He’s dead.”

It had, obviously, been a stupid accident. The big horse van was old, and the hydraulic ramp had been giving trouble and should have been fixed or replaced long since; that was undeniable. Victor should have had it fixed, because that particular vehicle had been his responsibility. And Victor should, certainly, have awakened someone to help him unload the stock when he arrived back at Glory sometime during the night, rather than do it all himself.

He had parked the big van beside barn number two, where it belonged when it was not in use. The horses had been safely unloaded; all six had been released into the big training ring in order to stretch their legs after the long trip, as was customary. And then Victor must have returned to the van and begun raising the hydraulic ramp.

At some point, he had, apparently, stood underneath the rising ramp, breaking the first rule of good sense around such mechanical devices. And at some point this particular mechanical device had failed, dropping straight down onto Victor. It was a very heavy ramp, and it had fallen hard.

There wasn’t a great deal left of Victor’s skull.

Amanda hadn’t seen that, and didn’t intend to. She
had not returned to the house, however, despite Sully’s warning. Instead, she stood leaning back against the white board fence of what was called the front pasture, which lay between the barns and the main road and from where she could watch the activities in the area between barns one and two without getting in the way or seeing anything she preferred not to see.

The only reason she was able to get this close was because there were no horses near her and because a strong and steady breeze blew past her shoulder and toward the barns, keeping the scent of horses away from her. But winds had been known to shift, and Amanda was ready to bolt toward the house at the first hint of a change in direction.

That was why she was so tense, of course. Why she was shaking.

The sheriff had arrived. So had Helen, who acted as medical examiner for the county. Maggie and Kate had postponed their trip into town and were also here—as was practically every soul who had anything at all to do with the stables, and a couple of the gardeners as well.

The arrival of yet another car on the stables’ private blacktop drive caught Amanda’s attention, and she watched as Walker got out of his shiny Lincoln, glanced around swiftly, and came directly to her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked when he reached her.

“I’m always called if anything happens at Glory.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Amanda was aware that eyes were on them, but she didn’t much care. “Why wouldn’t I be? I didn’t find the—the body. Sully did.”

Walker frowned, but didn’t respond to her somewhat
belligerent tone. Instead, he said, “you’re shaking.”

“Am I?” She managed a smile, and hoped it didn’t look as strained as it felt.

He pulled her into his arms.

Amanda sighed and briefly closed her eyes as she relaxed against him, her arms slipping inside his suit jacket and around his lean waist. For just a moment, she told herself, she would lean on him and take the comfort he offered. For just a moment. She was entitled, wasn’t she?

“So much for our little secret,” she murmured.

“Was it going to be a secret?” He rubbed his chin in her hair.

“Well, for a while. At least a day or two.” She lifted her head—with rather terrifying reluctance—from his chest and looked up at him. “I’m all right, really.”

Walker kissed her, taking his time about it and resolving any doubts the watchers might have had as to their interpretation of the hug.

“You did that deliberately,” Amanda told him when she could, bemused to see that she was clutching at his shirt. She smoothed the fine linen absently.

“Of course.” He was smiling, and the green eyes were alight. “A kiss should always be deliberate.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t like secrets,” he said, and released her. “I have to go talk to the sheriff. Wait here for me, all right?”

“Unless the wind changes.”

“Excuse me?”

She heard a brief laugh escape her. “I’m only afraid of horses when I can smell them. So—if the wind changes, I’ll have to get out of here.”

Walker looked at her for a moment, then shook his
head and went off toward Sheriff J. T. Hamilton’s tall, skinny form.

Amanda leaned back against the fence again and shoved her trembling hands into the pockets of her jeans. He didn’t like secrets. Wonderful. Not that she hadn’t already known that, of course, but the reminder was unnerving.

The entire morning had been unnerving—beginning just after midnight.

She brooded for a few minutes, not really paying attention to the people milling about. But then she realized that Sully was coming toward her, accompanied by a slender woman of medium height with bright red hair cut short on her well-shaped head.

“Leslie wanted to meet you,” Sully told her in his usual abrupt way. “Leslie Kidd, Amanda Daulton.”

Amanda met Sully’s steady gaze for just a moment, surprised, then looked at Glory’s newest rider and smiled. “Hello, Leslie.”

“My friends call me Les.” Her eyes were a melting brown, lovely and oddly gentle in her face; she wasn’t beautiful or even especially pretty, but there was something curiously compelling about those eyes. And her voice was soft and sweet without being at all childlike. “What about you? Does anyone ever shorten it to Mandy?”