Winning Ways (29 page)

In the far corner of the room, a small, wiry man rose and waved. Kurt shook his hand, then slid into the booth. Buddy's unkempt hair and wrinkled shirt gave him a down-on-his-luck appearance. Not a good sign.

Kurt spoke first. "So, what do you have to tell me?"

As Buddy started to answer, a waitress appeared beside the table, holding up a coffee pot and smiling invitingly at Kurt.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Just coffee. Thanks."

The girl poured the coffee and moved off to another table, and Kurt returned his attention to Buddy.

"Your information?"

The man hesitated, appeared nervous, as though he'd lost his nerve. "Well, I heard you were trying to find something to bring down Della Cortland."

Kurt remained silent and Buddy continued.

"When you were working for her, my boss, Stan Wilson, was... uh..."

Buddy stopped talking. Worry creased his forehead, as though he feared his revelation might jeopardize his own personal safety.

Kurt pushed his coffee to one side and leaned forward, arms resting on the table. He tried to keep his tone level and non-threatening.

"Go on."

"Stan was courting Della - and her money." He hesitated, looked closely at Kurt, then continued. "One night, Stan came into town for something, and he saw you and that real estate girl. What was her name?" He stopped, thought for a minute, then shrugged.

"Anyway, I think Stan suspected that Della was sleeping with you, which didn't fit in with his plans to combine the two farms. I guess he wanted you out of the way."

Kurt leaned back in the booth, Buddy's words stampeding through his brain. Della was sleeping with someone else the whole time? If that's the case, why would she care about my friendship with Dottie?

Buddy's voice interrupted Kurt's mental turmoil.

"I know the rumor went around that Della drugged her horse out of jealousy, but it was really Stan who did it."

Kurt spoke for the first time during the story.

"How do you know this for sure?"

Grim fury etched Buddy's weathered face. "Because I was there, and saw him. It was late at night, I was headed for the can, and just happened to see him come out of your horse's stall. He went the other direction and I followed him. He tossed something into the trashcan and left the barn. I looked in the barrel and there was a syringe layin' right on top of the rubbish."

Kurt reeled at Buddy's account of the drugging incident. Anger boiled up, almost choking him, and he leaned forward again, glowering at the man sitting across the table.

"Why the hell didn't you ever come forward? Do you have any idea what my life has been like since that show?"

Buddy shook his head sadly. "You have no idea what my life has been like since that show."

As time passed, Liz accepted Colleen's assessment of Kurt's actions. Whether out of a sense of responsibility or remorse, or something else, he must have felt the need to come to her aid after Muscala's attack. The shoulder had healed well, but her heart still ached, an open wound.

On a crisp, fall Sunday afternoon, she relaxed in her study, leafing through the latest issue of The Arab Horse. The magazine was thick and heavy, filled with the recent Arabian National Show results from Albuquerque. She idly looked through the pictures, feeling totally disconnected from that world. A full-page photograph drew her attention.

Bill Benton posed beside a magnificent black horse, the ground in front of them lined with trophies. The print below the picture read, "National Grand Champion Stallion, Aliqua Ebony, owned and shown by Bill Benton." Liz's jaw tightened, thinking about the price she'd paid, so that Bill Benton could show a national champion. The magazine dropped into her lap and she thought about Eve's bribe. Pain and anger percolated into Liz's mind. I guess Kurt just took the commission and split.

Images of the handsome cowboy had haunted her for weeks, sneaking up on her when she least expected it. When she cleaned stalls, the video loop in her brain clicked on. The memory of him leaning against the door, watching her on that afternoon so long ago, replayed itself repeatedly. Alone in the quiet barn, her thoughts would inevitably return to the magical night they'd shared in Tahoe. In self-defense, she'd finally locked her emotions away into a dark place, deep inside where they couldn't hurt her anymore.

Now, without warning, the lock popped open and her feelings bubbled to the surface, as fresh as when they'd been stashed. Face it. You are so in love with the man, you'd forgive him everything if he asked. She looked down at the picture, now blurred by her tears.

Colleen came down with a cold, which turned into pneumonia, and Liz made the trip to Placerville to visit her sick friend in the hospital. Pale and small against the crisp hospital sheets, Colleen attempted a smile, but it came across as a small shadow of her usual bright countenance.

"Ain't this the pits?" she croaked.

"I thought you might be trying to burn the candle at both ends."

Colleen struggled to sit up. "Yeah, well, you know me, I gotta do it all. What's new?"

Liz told her the story of the rancher and his calves. Colleen hooted with laughter, sending herself into a coughing fit.

A frowning nurse stuck her head in. "You all right?" She turned her focus to Liz. "Don't tire her out. She needs a lot of rest."

The head disappeared and Colleen made a face. "That's not my favorite nurse, believe me. Now, go on with your story. I'll try not to breathe."

Liz finished the story, then thought for a minute. "Did you see the picture of Bill Benton and his new champion?"

Colleen nodded, but remained quiet, wariness creeping into her expression.

Liz probed a little. "Did you know Kurt doesn't work at Aliqua any more?"

Colleen nodded and looked embarrassed. "Yeah, but I didn't want to be the one to tell ya, since I've done nothing but put him down since ya fell for him."

"Any idea where he might have gone?"

Colleen looked very sad. "No...I sure wish I did."

"I've really made a mess of it, Colleen. What can I do to fix this? I don't even know where to start looking for him. When he left that day, he said he had to go somewhere on business. I just figured it was for Eve. Apparently, he went somewhere else, and my damned pride kept me from calling Aliqua soon enough to find out."

Silence dominated the room for a few moments, then Liz sighed. "I guess I'll just have to live with my mistakes, unless he shows up again. If he does, you'd better believe I won't let him get away this time." She stood up. "I'll get out of here now, before ol' Nurse Brutus returns. Be back in a couple of days."

Colleen smiled. "I'd like that. In the meantime, instead of just mopin' around, why don'tcha see if ya can figure out a way to track down your man, and bring him home?"

Kurt stole a sideways look at the small man walking beside him. "I really appreciate your help, Buddy. After all this time, I wasn't sure I'd be able to find any evidence to clear my record."

"Yeah, well, I'll never clear mine. Wilson blackballed me in the whole area, made my life miserable. I'd like to see him pay for his treachery. I sure don't have anything to lose."

Kurt pushed open the heavy glass door to the Taos Community Bank, and the two men stepped inside. Buddy pointed toward a small Notary Public sign perched on a desk in the corner. Fifteen minutes later, they stepped back out onto the sidewalk.

Kurt folded the sheet of paper and tucked it into his jacket. "I'm headed out first thing in the morning. Why don't you meet me for breakfast at the Leona's?"

The following morning, Kurt finished his second cup of coffee and glanced at the clock. I guess he decided to pass on breakfast. Not that I blame him. Dragging up all the old crap couldn't have been very pleasant.

According to Buddy, he'd approached Stan Wilson and hinted that he knew the whole story, hoping to improve his own position at the farm. Stan had given him a large raise, with the understanding that the subject would never come up again. As soon as the furor had died down, he'd been fired.

Kurt shook his head, feeling a familiar bond with the down-and-out trainer, knowing how it felt to be discarded like yesterday's hero. But poor Buddy had been out of work for over six years, subsisting on odd jobs and seasonal work. Stan Wilson had spread lies about the man, making it impossible for him to find another training job.

A shadow darkened the table, and Buddy slid into the booth.

He looked embarrassed. "Truck wouldn't start. You already eat?"

"Nope, been nursing my coffee while I waited."

Kurt deliberately refrained from mentioning their previous conversation, instead, making small talk about the town and how it hadn't changed much. Breakfast arrived, and the two men ate in companionable silence.

When the dishes had been cleared and the check paid, Kurt pulled an envelope from his pocket and laid it on the table in front of Buddy.

"It isn't much, but it might be enough to get you out of Taos and into another area where you can find work. Competent horse trainers are hard to come by. I'm sure there'll be something out there for you."

Tears welled up in Buddy's eyes, and his shoulders sagged with gratitude as he stared at the envelope.

His voice broke as he picked it up. "Thanks. I hope you can fix your life, too."

As he drove out of town, Kurt remembered the clay bowl in the gallery window. He turned the truck around and headed back toward the shopping district, mentally reviewing the events of the last two days.

He shook his head. The power of money. I took the hit for the drugging, and all this time, I've thought it was Della. No wonder she acted so obnoxious when I showed up here.

Twenty minutes later, he was back on the road. He glanced at the package on the floor and smiled, picturing Liz's face when he presented her with the beautiful bowl. The smile faded abruptly. Why did he think she'd even speak to him, let alone be thrilled with a gift? He'd been away for almost two months, and hadn't even called her. Not that he hadn't picked up the phone every other day, desperately wanting to hear her voice. I deserve whatever wrath she's going to hand out.

Buddy's notarized testimony was tucked safely into the duffel bag, along with the money from Kurt's old savings account - fifty thousand dollars. The sales commission on Ebony would have been nice, but this'll be enough to get me started, maybe a down payment on a place of my own.

Kurt's optimism about the future grew, his thoughts filled with exciting ideas and plans. He'd finally left all the pain of the past behind him. The loose ends were almost tied up, and he felt really good about himself for the first time in a long while.

As he headed north, he read the looming road-sign: Denver 439 miles. One more stop, then he'd be able to go home to Liz.

Since her father's death, Liz had found Christmas holidays to be almost unbearable. Without family to share the season, she'd taken refuge in a trip to one distant place or another, trying to dispel her loneliness. This year, her thin financial cushion wouldn't allow for any extravagant winter travel.

She leafed through a brochure for Arizona, wondering if a brief getaway to the sun would help her mood. Scottsdale was supposed to be wonderful in the winter, and also one of the best places to see fine Arabians. If she visited some farms and looked at mares, she'd be able to write the trip off to farm business.

Melancholy washed over her. Stepping back into Bill Benton's glitzy world of show horses would only make things worse. She wanted no reminders of her brief trip through that dark tunnel. She stared out the window at the hills and pastures, brown and dormant, waiting for spring. A sharp stab of homesickness ran through her. At this time of year, the Kentucky landscape would be blanketed in soft white snow, the trees and fences and rooftops and hills sleeping peacefully beneath the white cloak.

Kurt entered her thoughts, as he had so often during the past month. She'd called the secretary at the Arabian registry office, but had been told in no uncertain terms that member information was confidential. Liz's long history of keeping to herself had put her at a disadvantage, leaving her without even a network of horse friends who might know where he'd gone.

She shook off the dismal thoughts. Colleen had returned home from the hospital, but remained too weak to work, so Liz wore many hats those long days. As she headed out to the barn to do her chores and bring the horses in for the night, she focused on more positive subjects.

Surprisingly, the bright spot in her life had become her practice. She was busier than she'd ever dreamed possible in such a short time, and her bank account was slowly recuperating from its near-fatal low balance. Darn good thing. The stud fees for breeding three mares will be hefty.

She'd finally reviewed Miss Marcy's pedigree, and had decided that the mare was worth breeding if she found the right stallion. She'd made deposits two studs, a pure Polish and a Polish-Egyptian. Come spring, Marcy, Amy, and Fair Lady would have husbands.