STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) (20 page)

His stride quickened. Taking a break during the day was unusual for him, and he felt like a teenager playing hooky. But Emily had a way of lifting his sprits. However, his anticipation fizzled to disappointment when Lizzie—not Emily—stepped from the barn.

“You’re back early,” he said, scanning over her head for Emily. “Did you make it to Churchill?”

“Yes,” Lizzie said. “And I took lots of pictures of the pointed spires. Monty went with me. He was a great guide.”

“Good,” Dan said, walking inside. Both horses were happily eating hay in pristine stalls. Emily must have led them in without him.

Lizzie gestured at the manure-laden wheelbarrow. “I mucked out. It seemed a shame to put the horses back into dirty stalls. Wouldn’t want the Humane rep to get riled.”

“The stalls weren’t clean?” Frowning, he checked his watch. Four thirty. “Is Emily upstairs?”

“No, I already looked. Wanted to tell her we’re in the process of transferring her pay. I calculated three days at eight hours a day…even though today shouldn’t count.” Lizzie gave a resigned shrug. “Oh, well. At least the bay is breathing better.”

“Yes. That was smart to make a little paddock. I won’t have to find a portable pen.” He edged back toward the door. If he wasn’t going to see Emily, he really should return to the meeting. “And if the horses are quiet,” he added, “it’s best to leave them out all night.”

“The bay wasn’t quiet though.” Lizzie gave a mournful headshake. “He was rearing and bucking when I arrived. Too bad he was left unsupervised. I’m not sure how his leg held up.”

“Damn.” Dan turned and walked back to the stall. The Reckless lookalike raised his head, eyes inquisitive. Hay protruded from his mouth. There were no signs of sweat marks, and his respiration rate seemed normal.

“I cooled him out and groomed him,” Lizzie said quickly. “Wet his hay and set out a soaking tub.
She
wouldn’t think of doing that.”

“Sorry you have all this extra work.” Dan fought an uncomfortable tightening in his chest. “This was supposed to be your day off.”

“It’s okay. Usually I don’t have to cover for such inexperienced help.” Her words trailed off to a resigned shrug.

“It’s my fault,” he said. “I wanted to help Emily lead them in. I should have returned earlier. How were they to handle?” he asked hopefully.

“They definitely need an experienced groom,” Lizzie said. “They’re both rather pushy, greedy for grain.”

Dan’s mouth tightened, appalled he’d thought the two horses were so well behaved. It was fortunate Emily hadn’t tried to lead them when they were in a hurry for supper. “I shouldn’t have put a new person in that situation,” he said.

“It’s okay.” Lizzie flipped her hair over her shoulder and stepped closer, her eyes earnest. “I can come back in the morning. Check the bay’s breathing. Wrap his legs and turn them out. I checked out another hay supplier too. Even brought a bale back so you can give final approval.”

He nodded, grateful but rather guilty about Lizzie’s dedication. Especially today, when he was thinking about anything but horses. “You’ll be busy tomorrow,” he said. “It’s the rail stunt and we’ll need eight of the track horses, groomed and ready.”

“No worries.” Lizzie touched his arm. “I love animals. This is what I want to do with my life.”

He gave her an appreciative smile. She never lobbied for a movie scene or chased after actors. Didn’t need to be center stage. His father should have married someone like her; someone who’d be happy living on a ranch.

Lizzie’s hand still rested on his arm and he turned away, scooping down to straighten an overturned bucket.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “The aisle was a mess. I’m still cleaning. But I admire Emily for trying to do work she considers beneath her. This is her chance to be in the movies so it’s understandable, I guess.” She shrugged. “Some people will do
anything
to get what they want.”

“Yes.” He blew out a regretful sigh. “I suppose they will.”

*

Emily jogged along the shaded path, leaped over a gnarled root and burst from the trees feeling as light as a gazelle. Someone stood in the door of the barn but the sun was slanting and all she could see was a dark silhouette. Probably Dan. He wanted to help bring in the horses tonight. Totally unnecessary, but very sweet. Her feet turned even lighter and her breath quickened with anticipation.

But the silhouette moved and Lizzie stepped from the shadows, hands on her hips. “It’s past five. Where have you been?”

Emily’s smile faded. Lizzie was such a buzz kill.

“I just dropped off some doughnuts for a friend,” Emily said. She didn’t want to mention Billy’s name. Lizzie was the type who would gleefully slash her pay for feeding non-movie personnel.

“Well, you’re late.” Lizzie’s voice sharpened. “I cleaned the stalls and grained them. Horses like a schedule.”

“But five-thirty grain is their schedule,” Emily said. “You even wrote down the feeding times.”

“Yes, but their stalls were filthy. Or maybe you didn’t intend to clean them?”

“Of course I did. But I thought the horses could stay out tonight. The weather’s supposed to be nice.”

“And as for that, there was an unfortunate incident here,” Lizzie said. “They shouldn’t have been left alone so long. And you shouldn’t have built that paddock.”

“Why? What happened?” Concerned, Emily brushed past Lizzie to Barney’s stall. He flicked his ears in recognition, his jaw chewing rhythmically. He looked fine, and his flanks weren’t flailing when he drew in air. “What happened?” she repeated, turning back to Lizzie.

“You didn’t check the ground.” Lizzie’s voice turned accusing. “I found a piece of broken glass. And he was bouncing around a little.”

Emily groaned and yanked open Barney’s door. “I’m sorry. Did he cut his heel?” She dropped her bag and examined each foot. She couldn’t see any injury but she wasn’t an expert.

“I’m sorry, fellow,” she murmured, replacing his hind leg and turning to Lizzie. “Should I soak his feet? Maybe he should have a tetanus shot? I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

Lizzie shrugged. “It’s okay. I took care of it. And I didn’t tell Dan. As far as he knows, I’m the one responsible for that horse being in the paddock. He’s a bit of a stickler about safety.”

“Yes, I know.” Emily gave a grateful smile. “He doesn’t want me to lead them when I’m alone, even though they’re both such gentlemen. Today I led them both at the same time and they were better behaved than my pony.”

“Well, I didn’t dock your pay. And I transferred the full amount to the email on file. So you’re all paid up.”

“Wow, that’s great. Thank you.” Emily’s eyes drifted to the apartment door. She wanted to grab her phone and check the amount. Then transfer it to the Steeplechase Inn and reserve a room. But more importantly, she wanted to find Dan’s trailer and clean up before he arrived.

“What’s in the bag?” Lizzie asked.

Emily clasped Mrs. Hamilton’s gift to her chest. “Just some stuff,” she said. “A couple shirts and a jacket.”

“Well, you won’t need many clothes. Your job here is over and the bus to Louisville leaves tomorrow.” Lizzie moved toward the door. “Gotta go. There’s a meeting tonight and Dan likes me around.”

Emily smiled but kept her mouth shut. Lizzie was absolutely correct; Emily probably wouldn’t need many clothes tonight. However, there was no reason to flaunt her budding relationship with Dan. After all, despite the wrangler’s abrasiveness, Lizzie had actually done her some real favors today.

Emily gripped her precious bag of toiletries and scanned the line of portable trailers for Dan’s name. Most of the units were small but sparkling new. The biggest model actually resembled a compact apartment row and had five separate doors. She was tempted to send a picture to Jenna but her battery was dangerously low.

She’d already spent five long minutes on the phone with a clerk at the Steeplechase Inn. Deluxe race tickets, including unlimited beer as well as a corner suite, totaled four hundred dollars. Thanks to Lizzie’s quick transfer, she was only eighty bucks short. However, the clerk knew Jenna and had agreed the remaining money could be paid next week. Emily gave an excited skip. The heck with fixing her car. Tomorrow she’d surprise her sister with an après-exam gift.

The ground was muddy and churned, rutted from heavy equipment, so she slowed to a more disciplined walk. She didn’t want to drop Mrs. Hamilton’s beautiful leather bag. She’d already peeked at the products and couldn’t wait to indulge in a hot shower. There were still a few hours before Dan would finish his meeting. For now, she simply had to locate his trailer.

She skirted a humming generator and spotted a white trailer set apart from the others and close to a ridge of trees. Four black buckets were stacked neatly below the front window. She hurried toward the door and checked the printed sign. ‘Dan Barrett.’

She lifted the rubber buckets. A lone key glinted in the dirt. She scooped it up, inserted the key and stepped inside.

Files were stacked on the kitchen table alongside a single coffee mug. The sink was empty but a beer can sat on the counter. She pulled off her boots and walked cautiously down the short hall, searching for the bathroom.

She peeked behind the first door on the right and grinned in delight. Not just a shower, but a tub. It seemed like weeks since she’d had anything but a hasty rinse in the barn. Now she’d be able to wash, wax and buff. If there were time, she’d even repair her nails. Mrs. Hamilton’s kit included some very sophisticated products. Dan would be surprised. She might not be a movie star, but she knew a bit about glamour.

Two hours later, she applied the last touch of mascara and stared critically at her reflection. Damn, she looked good. Pursing her lips, she dabbed a bit more red gloss on her mouth. There, perfect. Even her hair had cooperated, falling in silky waves over her shoulders. Naturally when you have the best products money could buy, it was easier to look beautiful.
Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton.

She zipped the leather bag, wiped the sink and wandered back to the kitchen. The clock said eight thirty. According to Dan, his meeting would be over by nine.

She sat at the small table and drummed her nails, then realized her pink polish was still a little wet. She wandered to the fridge and opened the door. There was plenty to drink—beer, water, juice—but she didn’t want to mess her makeup.

The only thing she wasn’t happy about were her clothes, but at least they were clean. She smoothed her T-shirt, wiped an imaginary speck off her jeans and rechecked the time. Eight thirty-three.

Maybe she should take off her clothes and wait in bed. Then he wouldn’t see her granny underwear.

The door abruptly opened and Dan filled the doorway.

“Hi,” she said, drinking in the sight. “I thought your meeting would go a little longer.”

“I was in a hurry tonight.” He gave a slow and meaningful smile. But his gaze swept her face, his smile fading. “You look different,” he said.

“I had a bath. Put on some makeup.” His eyes remained locked on her face and she touched her mouth, wondering if her lipstick had smudged. Or maybe he didn’t like the bright red?

He turned and yanked open the fridge. “Want a drink? Something to eat?”

“No, thanks. That chicken soup was great.”

He jerked around. “That’s all you had today?”

She’d been too excited to eat, but she didn’t want to admit it. Besides, any shred of appetite had vanished after cleaning Billy’s kitchen. “I stopped in the dining tent around four.” She omitted saying it had been to pick up doughnuts for Billy. “I often only eat once a day,” she added.

His mouth tightened and he turned back to the fridge. “Well, I’m going to have a beer,” he said.

She nodded but he wasn’t looking at her, and she fought a stab of uncertainty. He’d wanted her this morning but now he seemed cool, almost indifferent. It was impossible to change that much in eight hours. Besides, it wasn’t her nature to fake coyness.

She rose and crossed the small kitchen. Looped her arms around his tapered waist and pressed her cheek against his back. He stiffened. For a moment such tension radiated from him, she feared she’d misjudged.

Seconds later though, he turned and wrapped her in his arms. His head swooped, and his mouth covered hers in a raw hunger, kissing her as if he couldn’t get enough. His mouth was hard and firm and insistent, and when his knowing hand caressed her breast, pleasure scooted through her body.

“Do you really want that beer?” she murmured, one leg entwined around his calf.

“Not one bit,” he said.

He scooped her up and carried her down the hall, angling her so perfectly neither her feet nor head brushed the narrow walls. She felt a little pang, knowing how he’d perfected that particular trailer skill, but admittedly she had some moves of her own.

He laid her on the bed, his expert hands moving over her body, stripping her so urgently there was no time to worry about her granny underwear. No time to admire her waxing and buffing, her carefully shaped toenails with the intricate polish. His hands were slightly callused and the glide of his roughened skin against hers made her whimper with need.

His clever fingers caressed and probed and teased, exploring her most sensitive part, handling her like he knew his way. And when his warm mouth replaced his hand, she called out his name and her mind blanked.

“I really have to go, sweetheart,” Dan said for the third time that morning. But he made no move to leave. Instead he propped himself on an elbow, caressing her cheek with a finger, as though memorizing her face.

Normally she’d have dashed to the mirror for a pre-dawn makeup repair, but clearly he cared little for superficial trappings. Even her hideous underwear hadn’t scared him off. Tonight, she wouldn’t worry so much. Maybe just some blush and a touch of lipstick.

Her sister had always promised when the right person came along, she wouldn’t obsess over appearances. She’d finally met that man.