Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash (13 page)

Her stomach lurched and she realized she was hungry. Peanut would be too. She twisted, peering out the kitchen window at the dark kennel. Her pony was probably wondering where she was. He’d been loose for an hour of grass early this morning but his supper was definitely late.

“I let the pony out,” Burke said. “He’s eating grass now.”

“Oh.” She turned in surprise. “That was sweet of you.”

“Remember how sweet I am after I beat you in poker.” He pressed the microwave buttons. “You can eat the soup outside.”

She realized what he was doing half an hour later, when he kept insisting she flex her fingers over the cards. “But that hurts,” she said. “I’ll just use my good hand.”

“You will not. And keep wiggling those fingers. They need the exercise.”

She huffed and muttered and complained but then won the next two hands and was so delighted she forgot she was playing under protest. “I won all the water,” she said. “What else can we play for? I know you’re secretly angling for Peanut, but he’s off limits.”

Burke gave a mock shudder then grinned, not his lip twitch but a nice smile, the kind that made her heart flutter. “We’ll play for questions and answers. Honest answers.”

“Okay.” She leaned forward, concentrating on her cards, determined not to be distracted. She’d love the opportunity to question him and so far, was feeling rather lucky. After that, maybe the stakes could be pumped up to some real money. Burke sometimes made rash card moves, and it would be easy to capitalize.

The first hand was a cinch and she leaned back, studying him thoughtfully. She already knew he had an engineering degree as well as a masters in business management, but when she saw him like this, relaxed and smiling, he seemed to have unknown depths. “If you could do anything with your life, anything at all, what would you like to do?” she asked.

“Build my own house.”

Shit. She’d wasted her question. That answer had been obvious, considering all the time he spent working on the construction site. “That’s not what I meant to ask.”

He raised an amused eyebrow. “Too late. Deal and use your right hand.”

She sniffed but dealt the cards, only fumbling two that he politely ignored. It appeared she had the next hand safely won and she was already preparing a good question, but he got lucky with two aces.

“What do you want?” He pushed her water glass closer, his dark eyes enigmatic.

“Is that your question?” she asked. “Because that’s almost the same as my first one and in this version of the game, repeats aren’t allowed.” She’d already learned he was a marshmallow about letting her make up ridiculous rules.

“Maybe you just don’t know the answer.” His watchful gaze didn’t leave her face. “Everyone should know what they want.”

“Certainly, I know the answer.” She wiggled in the swing, trying to get more comfortable. “But there’re a number of things I want, and then it would be more than one question.” She wanted Emily to earn her degree, wanted Peanut to get better and she wanted to be able to help animals stay healthy.

“Come on,” he said. “Don’t think. Just say the first thing that jumps into your head.”

I don’t want to be like my mother
. She jerked forward, her bandaged hand slamming the water glass. Pain seared. Water spilled over the table, drenching her thigh. Burke snagged her upturned glass, his eyes narrowing on her gritted teeth. “Maybe that’s enough for one night,” he said. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

“Not necessary.” She picked up the soggy cards, trying to save them before they were ruined. “I’ll see you at work.”

“Jenna, you’re not working tomorrow. You’re off for a while. At least a week.”

“But I can massage with my left hand. It will take longer but I can still do it.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a massage. And it wouldn’t look good for the Center either.”

She sank back in the swing, staring at him, too stunned to speak. She’d used all her sick leave when she’d helped Emily move to Philadelphia. On short-term disability, she’d be down to sixty percent of her pay. Even with her ill-gained raise, that wouldn’t cover Emily’s monthly living expenses, let alone her own.

“I’ll wear a long-sleeved shirt,” she finally managed, trying to keep the desperation from her voice. “No one will see. And really, I can do my job. One time, I broke my wrist and Wally let me—”

“Wally isn’t in charge anymore.” He rose, picked up the wet cards and ruthlessly tossed them into the garbage. “I am.”

“But you need me. We have horses booked and Nifty’s coming soon.”

“We’re fine. I already hired another masseuse. She starts Monday.”

Her mouth opened and she slumped in the swing, dumbstruck. He’d replaced her, didn’t need her, hadn’t even told her. She struggled to speak but a brick of pain clogged her throat.

“I’ll put the pony in and fill his water.” He rumpled her hair. “Get some sleep. Don’t forget to take another pill.”

He strode down the steps, leaving her reeling from shock, despair and the sharp pain left by his massive blindside.

Chapter Thirteen

“Collect call from Emily Murphy,” the operator’s voice said. “Do you accept the charges?”

“Yes.” Jenna rose from the kitchen table and pressed the phone tightly against her left ear.

“Good morning,” Emily said. “I know you wanted me to text, not call, but we haven’t spoken for a while.”

“Oh, Em, I miss you.” Jenna stepped onto the porch, breathing in the fresh morning air. The sun was still low and already the trailer was unbearably hot. “I thought maybe you were…away?”

“Nope, nose to the books, constantly. That’s one of the reasons I called. These textbooks are expensive. I’ve been going to the library to study, but it would be much better if I could buy them. You wouldn’t know, of course, but books can cost about two hundred dollars.”

Jenna sank on the swing. “Two hundred dollars?” Her voice squeaked.

“And that’s just for one book,” Emily said. “The profs assign outside reading. Scholarships are available, bursaries based on need too, but they’re impossible to get without the extra reading.”

“Do you think you could get one of those?”

“Maybe. If I had the books.”

“I’ll see what money I can scrape together.” Jenna averted her gaze from her injured arm.

“Send it as soon as you can,” Emily said. “I’ll text a reminder.”

“Okay. And there’s some good news. The solarium is really helping Peanut’s coat—’’ But Em had hung up.

Jenna swore at the rudeness of the dial tone. Emily needed a kick in the ass.
Maybe I should drive over
. She started to punch Em’s number back in then stiffened at the sound of a car.

Aw, shit. Burke. She stared in dismay at her shorts and strapless top—clothes intended to beat the heat but definitely not to wear in public. Groaning, she rose and ducked back into the kitchen. The car crested the hill and wheeled into her driveway.

She didn’t want him to see her dressed like this. Didn’t want to see him at all. She still ached from his meanness and doubted she could be civil—even though she had to be. But Wally would never have put anyone on disability, had always worried about employees having enough money for groceries.

She tiptoed back into her bedroom and silently eased the door shut. Heard two hard knocks then the slam of the screen door.
Thump
. Another smaller
thud
. The door slammed again and an engine purred. She peeked out the window, relieved to see his car disappear over the hill.

She left the bedroom and walked cautiously back down the hall. A grocery bag sat on the kitchen table along with a black leather case. She peeked in the bag: more soup, whole wheat rolls, two packs of playing cards, beer, three gold-colored jars of fancy skin cream and a year’s supply of sterile white bandages.

The leather case was small and obviously not food. She tugged open the zipper and blinked in amazement. Oh, gosh, an Iphone! She scrolled quickly through the apps—everything a person could want, and more. A breeze blew through the screen door, rustling a sheet of paper lying on the counter. She snatched it up and studied his bold scrawl.

Phone is on the Burke account, full features. Use your right hand
. (
Be helpful if you would research Lorna and David Ridgeman of Ridgeman Racing Stables, the couple coming next week
.)

Okay, so it sounded like she was still expected to do the tour, but more importantly he’d left her a fully featured phone. She skipped around the table, needing to tell someone.

Called Emily but cut the connection before the call went through. Not cool. Probably she shouldn’t use the company phone for personal calls. Email was okay though. That was free along with Skype and Facebook.

Facebook. She rushed back to her bedroom and retrieved Frances’s password.

Logged in quickly. Friend list, Emily Murphy. Scrolled across the screen and stared in dismay. Holy shit. Somehow Emily had found time to post four hundred and two pictures.

A wide range of pictures. Pictures of laughing faces, drunken faces, leering faces. Pictures of blue pools and tiny rooms and trendy bars. Pictures of beach volleyball and impossibly small bikinis. Yes, indeed. It looked like Em was having a very good time at college. Of course, this could be happening on weekends. Em had said the spring session was lot easier.

Steadying her breathing, she logged onto her Facebook account with its grand total of three friends—Wally, Colin and Mrs. Parker.

Tapped a friend request to Emily. That should flush her out. If she was goofing off instead of studying, Em would find an excuse not to friend her. But, damn, if she were goofing around, all their scrimping and saving had been wasted.

Jenna chewed her fingernails and stared at the screen.

Two minutes later: friend request accepted. And a message.

Okay, that was fast. She’d been holding her breath but took a relieved gulp as she read Em’s message. ‘Check out Trevor’s cool car. Meeting parents soon. They have a pool!’

Jenna scanned the pictures, trying not to blanch. She did
not
like this boyfriend. He had a shifty look she didn’t trust and when he wasn’t leering for the camera, he had his hands draped suggestively over Emily.

She sighed, trying to lighten up. Maybe she was a teensy bit jealous that Em was having such fun, that she was working toward her degree, that she was moving toward a better life. But it would have been much simpler if her sister had applied to the local college. Cheaper too. Easy admissions. Only a thirty-minute drive and a heap of money could be saved by living at home.

She pressed Wally’s number, needing the reassurance of a friendly voice.

“Good morning. Wally Turner speaking.”

“Hey, Wally,” she said. “Why so formal? It’s only me.”

“The display said Burke Industries. Jesus, Jenna. I left three messages yesterday, and one time Burke answered your phone. What the hell was he doing there? Acted like he’d moved in.”

Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head at the accusation in Wally’s voice. Men were such idiots. “Well, I’m fine. I burned my wrist yesterday and can’t work for a few weeks. But thanks for asking.”

“Calm down. I was going to ask about your hand next. But you have to come in, if only to pretend to work. All your sick days were used moving Emily. Or maybe you can help tally some of the inventory. At least, show your face for half an hour each day.”

“Oh, Wally.” She gave a hysterical laugh. “You make it sound so easy. I wish you were still the boss.”

“What’s wrong?” He paused and his breathing turned heavy. “No way. You mean that bastard stuck you on long-term?”

“He doesn’t believe I can do the job right now. But it’s only for a little while.” She swallowed, slowing her words, surprised by her need to defend Burke. “And he did buy some groceries. And left me this neat phone.”

Wally snorted. “He just doesn’t want you to sue. Their rep for not being employee friendly isn’t helped by your accident, especially since I heard it was his fault. Damn ruthless people. They have their tentacles everywhere. My hay guy already signed a new contract with Burke, even though he promised to jack prices.

“Why don’t you sue him, Jenna?” Wally added. “Might get a fair chunk of change. Maybe not have to work for a while. Pay for a year of Em’s tuition.”

Jenna stared blankly at the tips of her pale fingers poking from the bandage. So that’s why Burke had encouraged her to use her right hand. Playing cards, leaving the fancy phone. He was afraid she’d have residual damage. Good God, and she’d thought he was being nice.

“I’m not suing anyone, Wally. I like to work. And it was as much my fault as his.” Her voice came out flat and resigned. “Do you know who he hired?”

“He hired someone? To replace you? Aw, Jenna, I’m so sorry.”

The genuine sympathy in Wally’s voice made her throat tighten. “It’s only for a little while,” she said quickly. “I just wondered who it was.”

“Don’t know. Look, I’ve got to go. He’s here now, only about thirty feet away. Giving me one of those dark looks.”

The phone went dead. It was obvious who Wally was talking about. She hoped she hadn’t landed him in any more trouble with Burke. She retreated to the cooler porch and stared blankly across the road. Peanut grazed contentedly, probably surprised he was getting extra time to eat. Didn’t realize she wasn’t going anywhere. Not today. Not for a while.

Damn. At least she could make good use of her time. She eyed the wooden ladder by the deserted chicken coop. Probably a good day to inspect the roof. If the shingles weren’t too bad, she could postpone repairs and wait for Emily to come home. Between the two of them, they’d get it done.

She dragged the old ladder to the side of the trailer. Struggled to prop it on the uneven grass. It was hard climbing with one hand and damn hot, but she managed, though she moved slower than usual.

She edged along the roof, inspecting the worn shingles and staying low. The roof over the bedrooms wasn’t too bad. That section had been recently patched, but the part above the kitchen needed immediate repair. There was some roofing left at the Center’s construction site. Maybe she could ask the friendly guy, Terry, if she could buy the leftovers. She wouldn’t need much, about twelve square feet, and they generally discarded it anyway.