Winning Ways (23 page)

She tried a sincere smile, but her features were rigid with deceit.

"That wasn't the deal, Eve."

She straightened up, her face cold with power. "And what deal are you talking about? I don't recall signing any agreement."

Fury raged through his head, unleashing a barrage of thoughts. He wanted to tell her to go to hell, but a voice in the recesses of his brain reminded him that he needed to sort out the mystery of Karma's drugging. He quelled his anger.

"I did what you wanted, Eve. I saw to it that Ebony won the regional championship."

She snorted and rose from the stool. "Well, that couldn't have been too hard, since Liz - " Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and she clamped her mouth shut.

He caught the slip-up, and his stomach jerked. "What about Liz?"

Eve recovered quickly. "Oh, nothing. I just heard she had to scratch her colt from the class. It was sick or something?"

Kurt moved to the doorway and wedged himself there. "Now, where did you hear that?"

She frowned, feigning scorn. "Well, Billy, of course! And it disturbs me a great deal that you didn't tell me about it. I mean, after all, you were right there in the same barn with her."

He heard the words and his stomach dropped. She knew too much, too soon. It was becoming clear that Bill Benton and Eve Aliqua had arranged the whole incident to look as though Kurt had been involved. Kurt, who'd had a juicy carrot dangled in front of him. Kurt, who'd been seen at Liz's stalls late at night. Kurt, with the questionable past.

Now, not only had Liz's reputation been destroyed, but Kurt also had no way of getting his sales commission from Eve, until - and if - she decided to give it to him. The current state of affairs made the mess in New Mexico look like a hiccup.

Colleen was horrified by Liz's description of the ordeal with Karma and the show officials.

"How awful! Who would want to destroy your reputation?"

A vivid image of Eve Aliqua flashed through Liz's head.

"I can't imagine...I contacted security and filed a report. The sheriff questioned a few people, but didn't find anything."

"What did the lab report say?"

"Diazepam, like Valium. It certainly isn't a common drug for calming show horses. A more logical choice would have been Reserpine. God, Colleen, what's really upsetting is that, whoever dosed Karma, knew exactly what he or she were doing, injecting just enough to keep him out of the class."

Colleen's voice was subdued. "What about all your hard work, and the Nationals?"

Liz swallowed hard. "I'm through showing horses. I really believe I can raise and sell quality Arabians without jumping through horse show hoops. It's nice to have the ribbons to show off, but my horses will prevail by their bloodlines."

The line remained silent. Colleen probably thought Liz had lost her senses.

"Good for you, Liz. I've always believed that, but try telling it to some of these rich owners."

After the conversation, Liz disappeared into a mire of personal thoughts that temporarily crowded out her professional concerns. How could I fall in love with someone so unsuitable? She sucked in her breath sharply at the admission, and the pain of her true emotions. Then she reminded herself that Kurt had warned her. She'd chosen to play a dangerous game, and she had the wounds to prove it. An instant replay of their last conversation at the show flickered through her head, and Kurt's stricken face appeared in her mind's eye. At the time, she'd been so devastated, angry, and unbearably embarrassed by her naïveté, that she'd never wanted to see him again. Now, second thoughts were creeping in.

Who am I to judge him? His past life has shaped his present situation. He's a strong, independent man shackled by circumstance, a man who's fighting for survival.

Though the thoughts churned through her brain, she couldn't help feeling that she did have a right to care about his actions, if they affected her. And they certainly had.

Liz went about her comfortable, predictable morning routine, filling each feed bucket. She'd always loved starting her day with the horses. Lugging the last pail toward Muscala's stall, Liz remembered Mandy's problem with the cranky mare. Muscala must have thought she could take advantage of a new person, just like a little kid tests a new babysitter. At the stall door, she stopped and scrutinized the animal. Muscala's swollen belly promised a large foal. A ripple moved beneath the mare's flank as the fetus shifted position. The mare's ears flattened and she snapped a hind leg up to kick at the movement. Liz shook her head. I don't like the direction this pregnancy is taking.

She entered the stall and dumped the grain into a bucket in the corner. Without warning, Muscala lunged, teeth bared, eyes wild. Her heavy body slammed Liz into the wall, huge teeth grinding through Liz's light work shirt. Pain seared through her shoulder, and she struggled to regain her balance. A well-aimed, powerful kick caught her in the thigh, and she tumbled into the shavings. Muscala grunted and stamped her feet. Liz instinctively rolled over onto her stomach and covered her head with her arms, bracing herself for another blow. As suddenly as they'd begun, the horse's movements stopped, and stillness settled over the stall.

Liz lay for long, agonizing minutes, waiting for whatever might be next. How am I going to get out of here? She slowly lifted one arm and turned her head so she could see the mare. Muscala stood in the corner, munching grain as though nothing had happened. Moving very slowly, Liz sat up, watching the animal every second for signs of another attack. Muscala seemed unconcerned. Liz gingerly rose to her feet, and pain exploded in her shoulder. She gritted her teeth and backed toward the stall door, never letting her eyes leave the mare. As she fumbled with the latch, the horse suddenly wheeled and dived straight at her, ears pinned, flared nostrils gaping above bared teeth. Liz leapt out the door, slamming it just seconds before Muscala hit it. The mare's heavy head hit Liz's cheek, knocking her off balance. She crashed to the cement floor, her injured shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. Pain came in a wave, threatening to take her into oblivion.

Large amounts of adrenaline pumped through her system, and her thundering heart struggled to handle it. Oh, my God, I don't believe this just happened! Delayed tears of fright ran down her temples, trickling into her hair. She lay still for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, then slowly sat up. The only sound she could hear was her own ragged breath.

The walk back to the house was long and painful. She gingerly peeled off her shirt, and inspected her damaged shoulder in the bathroom mirror. Blood oozed from several open wounds, and several shades of blue and purple already colored the entire area. Nausea threatened, and she closed her eyes. I should have someone look at this. On closer inspection a second later, she saw a jagged, bleeding scrape on her face, and a large bruise darkening her cheek and jaw. I can't believe she did so much damage.

She moved slowly into the study, and picked up her cell phone. She was beginning to feel woozy as she dialed Colleen's home number. Her friend's perky voice on the answering machine prompted her to leave a message. Liz hung up and dialed the barn number. The phone rang several times, while she struggled to clear her head. A man answered and, through the fog pushing into her brain, Liz heard that Colleen had just left for Sacramento.

Resting her head on her arms, she tried to decide if she'd be able to drive herself to the local hospital. She felt shaky and disoriented. The phone in her hand was making a peculiar noise. She lifted it to her ear, and the sound of Kurt's voice confused her even further.

"Aliqua Arabians. Hello?"

"Uh, Kurt?"

"Liz? Hey! What's wrong?" His voice rang with concern.

"I've had a little accident..." A wave of dizziness closed in, and her voice trailed off.

"Liz, are you at home? Liz! Talk to me!"

"Yes. I'm sorry to bother - "

"I'll be right there!"

The line went dead and she stared numbly at the dark display. A minute later, she eased back onto the couch, and succumbed to the heavy darkness that pressed her into the cushions.

Kurt's fear burned into his brain as the truck sped toward Liz's farm. The winding road between Placerville and Garden Valley seemed to go on forever. One thought hammered itself against his skull. Please, let her be okay. A tractor and overloaded hay wagon pulled onto the highway about a hundred yards ahead, and Kurt swore under his breath. His usually careful, somewhat sedate driving habits disappeared, and he punched the accelerator to fly past the creeping vehicle. In the rearview mirror, he saw the farmer shake his fist.

The truck skidded to a stop in Liz's driveway. He pushed through the screen-door into the kitchen, calling her name, and was met with silence. As he slowly started down the hall, apprehension overwhelmed him. Entering a large, comfortable living room, he stopped for a moment, listening in the hushed atmosphere. A small, muffled sound came from a doorway off to his left, and he bolted toward it. The small, crumpled body on the couch brought his heartbeat to a dead stop. In two strides, he knelt beside her. The sight of her bruised and swollen face sent a wave of despair through him.

"My God, Honey! What happened?"

 Barely moving her lips, she managed to croak, "horse."

The emergency room at the community hospital in Placerville wasn't busy at that hour of the morning. An orderly wheeled Liz directly into an examining room, and Kurt waited nervously in the lobby.

Two hours later, Liz reappeared in a wheelchair. The nurse addressed Kurt.

"It's a nasty bite, but it should heal up all right. The doctor gave her a tetanus shot, just to be on the safe side."

Kurt's surprised expression made Liz giggle, then flinch.

"I'll tell you on the way home," she mumbled through stiff lips.

Looking up at the man who'd come to her rescue, her heart swelled with love. His expression was tight with genuine concern for her, and with that, all the past questions and problems faded into insignificance. They could be answered or solved later. Nothing mattered now, except that he was there with her.

As Kurt maneuvered the truck along the highway between Placerville and Garden Valley, he glanced over at Liz and grinned.

"Okay, you gonna tell me what happened?"

Liz unfolded her story slowly and painfully, and with each disclosure, the lines on Kurt's face deepened. When she'd finished, he remained silent for a few minutes.

He finally spoke, his tone angry.

"I knew that mare would be trouble when you first bought her. I tried to talk to Eve about it, but you know how she is - always has to have things her own way."

Liz remembered the heated conversation she'd overheard between them. Even back then, Kurt had been thinking of her best interests. The revelation made her happy, but also ashamed that, through the past few weeks, she'd let her emotions and bruised pride overshadow her good judgment.

Kurt parked the truck close to the house, then opened Liz's door to help her out. As he gently steadied her, the memory of their first embrace wiggled its way into his brain, and sadness flooded his heart. Lost chances. Would he ever be able to start over with her?

Her legs were wobbly, but with his arm around her waist, she managed to walk into the house. He helped her into the study, and she sank onto the couch, releasing a long sigh. She leaned her head back against the cushions and looked up at him.

"Thank you for coming to get me."

Pain and exhaustion shadowed her eyes, and his heart rolled with sadness.

"Thank you for calling me."

After she drifted off to sleep, Kurt wandered up to the barn. Heads appeared over stall doors, and anxious nickers echoed through the rafters.

"Okay, you guys, she's fine."

He looked at Muscala, the only horse in the barn who hadn't responded to his presence. The mare stood haughtily against the stall wall, ignoring his stare. Eve should never have purchased that mare, let alone sold her to someone else.

Shaking his head at the disastrous hand of fate, he grabbed halters and started taking the other horses out to the pasture for the day. Muscala would stay in her stall until he decided what to do about her. As he led the horses out, two at a time, he had a chance to look around at the lovely hillside and tidy paddocks. The farm was pleasant and peaceful. He understood why Liz loved it so much.

He'd never had a place of his own. His entire life had been spent working for someone else, showing someone else's horses, and doing someone else's bidding. His strong drive to "be the best" had kept him from considering the idea of being his own master. Until New Mexico. He'd been shaken by the sordid reality of his unhealthy relationship with Della and, from that, a plan had grown to strike out on his own, nurtured by dreams of a second chance at life. However, Della's jealous fury had effectively ended those dreams.

Chagrin worked its way into his thoughts. And here I am again, at the mercy of another unscrupulous woman.