Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash (31 page)

She gave him such a big smile, his chest thumped. “My hand’s pretty good now,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

“You want to massage Nifty this afternoon?”

“Yes. He felt good yesterday. I didn’t find any problem areas.” She straightened and it was clear her thoughts were locked on the horse. “Don’t you think that’s odd? Nothing showing up in the massage? Usually I feel something. Is it possible the Ridgemans are exaggerating?”

“And why would they do that?” His shoulder felt cold and empty, and he wished she’d lean back against him and stop thinking about work. Maybe she’d let him come back once a month, at least for a start.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “But some of the research suggests they’re struggling financially. And Colin knows of two mares Nifty covered last year that didn’t produce foals.”

“You were talking to Colin MacDonald? About confidential company business?” A muscle ticked on the side of Burke’s jaw. That damn vet was going to be around after he left, just waiting to pick up the pieces. The man would probably wait another decade for Jenna. Only a fool would do that—a fool or a very patient man.

“Surely you have some understanding of client confidentiality,” he added, rubbing his knuckles. “And your job is to give massages, not question owner finances or why they sent their horses.”

“I know my job.” She raised a stubborn chin. “But I thought
yours
might be to check some facts with your contacts. And I didn’t reveal anything to Colin. I just wanted to talk to you about Nifty’s owners.”

“You better get used to discussing this stuff with the new manager.” His mouth tightened with frustration. He wanted to talk about
them
. Not work, not Nifty and definitely not the lovesick vet. “I’m already busy with my next project,” he muttered. One she was urging him to take.

“Of course.” She inclined her head and turned away.

“Jenna,” he stopped, afraid of what he might say. He’d completely botched this. His control was splintering and any minute, he’d be begging at her feet.

It was a relief when the plane landed and he was back in his car, in control of something again. Anything. He gripped the steering wheel and pressed his foot on the accelerator, relieved when the Audi responded.

“I’m meeting the new manager this afternoon,” he said. “Not much time to spare but we can stop at your house on the way. You can change and then massage Nifty.”

He parked in her driveway and waited while she changed into a pair of jeans and T-shirt. He liked that she was always so fast but, dammit, she grew more beautiful every day. His melancholy grew as she rushed to the kennel and checked on Peanut. At least she’d be happy about what he’d built for her pony.

The passenger door opened. She slid back into the car and thrust something on his lap. “Here’s a little something so you won’t forget us.”

He stared down at the compact photo album. Remained silent for a moment before flipping it open, knowing he’d never forget her. Slowly, he scanned the pictures. Everything was there, almost from his very first day. Pictures of the Center, pounding studs at the construction site, all the staff waving, even Wally. And, of course, steeplechase day.

“Who’s the kid on my shoulders?” he asked, fighting the constriction in his throat. “I think she sent me a letter.”

“That’s little Sophie and there’s Charlie slapping your hand after he won.”

“This is great.” His voice sounded odd. “I didn’t see you taking all these pictures.”

“Phones are good that way,” she said.

“You even have one of me sweating on your roof.”

“My personal favorite,” she said, and the sadness in her voice made his heart squeeze..

He coughed, struggling with his reaction. “Thank you, Jenna,” he finally managed. “This is one of the most thoughtful things anyone’s ever given me.” He fumbled in the console for the necklace, knowing expensive jewelry wouldn’t mean much, not to her, but at least it was something. He wanted to give her something.

He pulled out the Tiffany box, silently thanking the sales clerk for decorating it with pretty white ribbon, and pressed it into her hand.

She opened the lid, cautiously lifted the necklace, watching as it glittered beneath the hard sun. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” Her eyes narrowed. “But who’s Theresa?”

Damn
! His hand whitened around the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. The store must have mixed up the two necklaces.”

“So she has one that says my name?” Jenna’s voice cracked.

“Actually I didn’t have your name on it.”

She closed the box then, her throat moving in curious little bobs that seemed linked to his own convulsing throat.
Aw, shit
.

“Smart,” she said. “Leave your options open. Have to hand it to you, Burke. You really know how to make people feel special.” Her voice flattened. “My father did that once. Gave my mom a bracelet with someone else’s name on it. Of course, he’d stolen it. You didn’t steal this, right?” She forced a smile but her lips quivered, tiny trembles that tore at his chest.

He plucked the box from her hand. “I’ll sort this out.”

“No problem. It’s the thought that counts.” Her voice quavered and he reached toward her, but she pushed his arm away. “Let’s get going. You have a manager waiting.”

“Jenna, please.” His chest was so tight, it was hard to breathe. “Theresa is an old friend, a past friend. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No one ever does,” she said.

***

Jenna trailed her hands over Nifty’s back and hindquarters, feeling for any soreness, watching his reaction. His ears flicked but he remained remarkably quiet, showing no pain, nothing that would account for his problems in the breeding shed.

If in fact, he really did have a problem.

Tank didn’t think Nifty had any physical difficulties, and no one knew a horse better than his groom. Of course if the stud’s sperm count were low, that would be an entirely different problem. He could physically do the deed, just couldn’t accomplish the desired result. It would be disastrous for the Ridgemans to lose Nifty’s services.

She tried to remember exactly what David had said, but her mind kept sneaking to Burke. Damn him. She’d let him worm his way into her heart, a place she always kept tightly sealed, and
wham
.

Without warning, the door swung open and Nifty spooked, knocking her sideways. She straightened, trying to soothe him.

“Please knock when you enter,” she said over her shoulder.

“I forgot,” Burke said, his voice deep, impersonal and not a bit apologetic. “Jenna, this is Barb Schmidt. Barb, this is Jenna Murphy, our talented masseuse. Jenna has a therapeutic massage diploma as well as an equine certificate.”

Jenna nodded a greeting, not looking at Burke, trying to ignore her gut wrenching guilt at the lies he’d repeated. It was much easier to concentrate on the new manager and her beautifully cut suit, her perfect hair, her gleaming white teeth.

“Excellent.” Those teeth flashed again as the new manager smiled up at Burke. “Proper credentials are another aspect of the Center that I’m extremely enthused about. Derek, I’m thrilled the staff are all qualified, at least to acceptable standards. Are you working on your degree part-time, Jenna?”

Jenna’s fingers pressed a little harder into Nifty’s hindquarters, and he swished his tail in warning. “Not right now,” she said.

“Well, I understand there’s a college very close. And increasing staff qualifications will strengthen the magnificent job Derek has started here.” Barb beamed another ingratiating smile at the man by her side. “I’m thrilled to be part of Burke Industries.”

“It does have its perks,” Jenna muttered, ignoring Burke’s sharp glance.

“So this area is dedicated to massage but restricted to two horses a day.” Barb frowned as though confused. “Two massages will leave you with a lot of extra time. But we’ll pull together. Jenna. Find enough work to keep all the team busy, even if it means mucking out stalls.”

Nifty’s tail swished again and Jenna pulled her hands back, forcing her fingers to lighten. But she resented Wally’s replacement: this woman with her fawning smile, her irritating eagerness and most of all her troublesome college reference.

She wished the Canadians hadn’t sold, wished everything had stayed the same, wished Wally was still the manager. She shot a look at Burke, but he wore a bored expression even though Barb was literally hopping on her heels trying to capture his attention.

“A good scrubbing, that’s what this room needs.” Barb continued her prattle, glancing around the room. “And what do you think of a coat of paint, Derek? Something to brighten the place, maybe varying shades of red. I see what you mean about how the last manager let things slide.”

Jenna clamped her mouth shut, but somehow the words leaked out. “Wally was a good manager,” she said. “The horses always left with a bounce in their step, and he was brilliant at analyzing their problems. Compassionate too. Never turned anyone away. He also knew horses have trouble seeing certain colors, such as red.”

Oh, no. What am I doing
? She sucked in a breath, her hands freezing over Nifty’s back. And she wished for a long stick to pull back the color comment. “Of course, it’s difficult to know what colors they really distinguish,” she added, forcing an agreeable nod. “Actually red is a brilliant idea, Barb.” But now she only sounded sarcastic, even though she hadn’t intended to knock Barb. Not really. Well, maybe a little.

Barb’s smile pinched and she crossed her arms, glancing at Burke as though searching for direction.

“I’m sure Jenna and all the staff here will support you in whatever decisions you make,” Burke said. “We’ll visit the oxygen room now. It’s one of the Center’s more effective applications.”

Ouch
. Jenna winced and dropped her forehead against Nifty’s rump, drawing comfort from his solid bulk. His tail swished and she quickly stepped away, because, although the stallion was being extremely cooperative, he was still a stud and she didn’t want to push his tolerance. He could kick her chest in as effortlessly as Burke.

She led Nifty back to his lonely stall, guilty at his disappointed expression. “I’ll bring you some company tonight, fellow,” she promised, slipping him a peppermint. “The friendliest pony in the world.”

She trudged down the hall and paused at the reception desk. “So, did you meet the new manager? What do you think?”

“I dunno.” Frances moved a stack of papers to the side of the desk, concealing her crossword puzzle. “But there will never be anyone like Wally.”

“I’ve been calling and he never answers. Have you seen him lately?”

“No. Not his truck either. I’m surprised he quit,” Frances said. “Three Brooks was all he cared about. Wish things had stayed the same. Horses like Nifty create too much work. I had to order special feed and the phone hasn’t stopped ringing. An insurance company even wants to come next week and run some tests. Do you think the new manager will make me give tours?”

Jenna shrugged, her gaze shooting to the door of the oxygen chamber. Burke and Barb might emerge soon. Probably best if Barb didn’t catch them gabbing. Their new boss was already forming opinions, and on Monday she’d be the head honcho. Peanut’s access to the solar panels would be severely restricted.

“I’m going to check Wally’s apartment and then walk home,” Jenna said absently. “Better put your crossword puzzles away for a while. See you Monday.”

She pushed through the swinging doors and rapped on the door to Wally’s apartment. Tried the knob but the door was locked. Stepped outside and checked the corner of the statue—the key to the Center’s outer door glinted back at her. You’re the best, Wally, she thought. She’d bring Peanut up tonight for one last visit.

She pivoted and crossed the new cobblestones. It was different walking across the uneven surface but the changes made a huge impact. Flowers brightened the drive, the shrubs were perfect and Three Brooks looked like a facility that really did cater to expensive horses.

Movement flashed. She glanced up, certain a curtain had moved in Wally’s apartment. She pulled out her cell phone and pressed his number, but only heard a recording. “I know you’re in there, buddy,” she said. “Thanks for leaving the key. Peanut and I will be up tonight.”

She paused, uncomfortable. Wally had always been the guy to dole out favors, and she understood pride. “And,” her words came in a rush, “I know you have the apartment for another four months but if you need a place to stay after that, or if you want to move out now, I’d love to have you.”

She shoved the phone in her pocket and followed the wooded path to her trailer. If she weren’t always rushing in the morning, she’d walk to work. She loved the smells, the air, the land. Loved helping animals.

Didn’t want to move.

She scooped up a rock and drove it at an oak tree, then a second and a third, throwing harder until the rocks hit with a satisfying
thwack
. Her job was secure. Had to be. Barb had no reason to check her qualifications, no reason to wonder why she wasn’t working toward her degree. Everything was fine.

But she was tense when she reached the trailer. Her phone chirped. She checked the display, Burke. Her heart raced even faster, and she answered slowly.

“Meet me in the parking lot,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll drive you home and later we can take Barb for dinner.”

“I already walked home. And thanks for the invite tonight but I’m busy.”

“Jenna,” his voice deepened with impatience, “it would be good for your job security if you accompany us tonight.”

Her hand tightened around the phone. “You think the only reason Barb would keep me is because of your influence?”

“She might feel more favorably toward you, especially after your disrespect today. However, I don’t interfere with decisions at such a low level.”

Low level
. He had such a way with words. She climbed up her porch steps and sank into the swing. “I didn’t intend to be disrespectful,” she said quietly. “But she should know horses have a limited color range. It’s hard not to speak out if she’s wrong about something.”