The Horse Trainer's Secret Page 11

  Not looking at Nick, Megan hurried through the doorway past the reception area and down the hall.

  The restroom was painted a cheerful yellow with cartoon characters bouncing across the walls.

  She peed, trying to contemplate a future full of washrooms decorated with cartoon characters and busy pediatrician’s waiting rooms.

  She couldn’t.

  She washed her hands and left the restroom.

  A young mom nearly as tall as Megan was carrying a baby in a massive carrier, blocking most of the hallway. Megan hung back, trying to stay out of the way.

  She glanced disinterestedly at the framed licenses hanging on the wall. They were similar to the ones hanging in Nick’s office. Professional degrees. Awards.

  Then she heard a bright laugh that set her teeth on edge.

  Certain she had to be imagining it—that thinking about Nick’s office had to be responsible—Megan looked over at the young mom again. She’d been joined by another woman.

  And Megan really and truly wished that she was anywhere—anywhere—else.

  Because that bright laugh hadn’t been a figment of her imagination at all. And Delia Templeton, seemingly conjured out of nowhere, was hunched over the baby carrier.

  “Oh, my god,” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe how much Ladd’s grown since the last time I saw him!”

  “Fifteen months and at the top of the growth charts,” the mom said.

  “Probably to be expected when my brother’s the Jolly Green Giant,” Delia said with that ready laugh of hers. Then she straightened from the carrier and her gaze slammed right into Megan’s.

  Her lips parted. She blinked slowly.

  The mom glanced over her shoulder. “Oh!” She immediately stepped to one side of the hallway. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was hogging the hall here.”

  “No worries,” Megan assured her, and started to step past them. She managed a smile at Delia that felt as awkward as it undoubtedly looked.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Megan felt like asking her the same thing. “Nick is dropping off some plans.”

  “Nick’s here?”

  The young mom’s attention had been bouncing back and forth between them. “I’m guessing you two know each other?”

  Delia looked slightly harried. “Penny Templeton. My sister-in-law,” she said. “Megan...ah—”

  “Forrester,” Megan said, though she felt very certain that pretty, petite Delia with the perfectly unlined face remembered her name very well. She started sidling around them, only to find her progress hampered by a tall man in a white coat who stepped out of an exam room.

  “Got a logjam here,” he said in a friendly tone. “Can we move things along a bit?”

  “Sorry, Daddy.” Delia flattened her back against the wall. “Go ahead.” She shooed Megan.

  Megan’s lips felt tight as she tried to smile, but she finally slipped past them to return to the waiting room.

  She could have cried with joy when she saw that there were no vacant chairs left, giving her an excuse to wave her hands at Nick and gesture toward the door.

  “I’ll wait out, uh, out—” She didn’t bother finishing but headed outside before he could do more than sit forward in his chair as though he was going to stand up and offer it to her.

  She skip-jogged across the crowded parking lot toward Nick’s SUV, wanting to put as much distance between the building and herself as she could. This time he had locked the SUV, and she leaned her back against the passenger door, looking up at the sky.

  “Why?” she said, beseeching the heavens. “Why can’t there be a way to turn around in this state without running into Delia Templeton?”

  The brilliant sky, with its cotton-ball clouds, provided no answer.

  She exhaled loudly and ran her hand over the back of her neck, looking back at the doctor’s office.

  Which was clearly marked with a black-and-white sign she hadn’t noticed before.

  Templeton Pediatric.

  She blew out another noisy breath and looked down at herself. Compared to the skinny jeans and off-one-shoulder blouse that Delia was wearing, Megan looked like a frump.

  She rebuttoned the button over her nearly nonexistent cleavage and pressed her hands to her cheeks, then closed her eyes.

  “Sorry that took so long.”

  She looked up again to see Nick striding toward her, no longer holding the long black tube containing the architectural plans. He hit his key fob and the doors of the SUV unlocked with a soft chime.

  “Busy office,” he said as he rounded the front of the vehicle to pull open his door. “You can see why the doc wants to expand.”

  She pulled open the passenger door a little belatedly and got in. “Yeah. It was...crowded.” She waited for him to make some mention of Delia, but he didn’t.

  Penny emerged from the building before Nick finished backing out of his parking spot and the other woman offered a friendly wave as she headed to a blue van.

  Nick didn’t seem to notice and then it didn’t matter because he was turning onto the street, leaving Penny and Delia behind. “China Palace is pretty popular. Hopefully we’re early enough to get a table without too long a wait. For some reason they stopped taking reservations on Fridays.”

  She made a sound and wasn’t really sure what she wanted it to convey. But he seemed satisfied enough.

  At least he didn’t give her one of those long looks that made her suspect he was trying to read her mind.

  Then she wondered if Delia had hurried out to the waiting room to say hello to Nick after learning he was there.

  For all Megan knew, maybe she had. Maybe she hadn’t mentioned that she’d run into Megan, either.

  That was very easy to believe.

  And maybe Nick wasn’t mentioning Delia because he—

  She ground the brakes on her whirling thoughts.

  Lunatic hormones.

  “You didn’t mention that your client was Delia’s father.”

  “Didn’t I?” He was watching the traffic, waiting to turn left at a busy intersection. “Wasn’t thinking about it, I suppose.” Then he glanced at her. “How’d you know Doctor T is her dad?”

  She offered up a shrug as she scrambled for a plausible answer. “Heard it somewhere. I mean, that her dad’s name was David Templeton. I assumed there weren’t two of them.”

  Brilliant, Megan.

  She chewed the inside of her cheek and stared out the side window at a small shopping center. It reminded her of the one in Wymon where the women’s clinic was located.

  She looked straight ahead out the windshield again and realized that she’d been picking at the bandage strip on her thumb so much that it was practically falling off. She peeled it away and rolled it into a rubbery ball that she squished hard between her fingers. “Do you have a lot of clients in Braden?”

  “Fair number.” The oncoming traffic finally broke enough to allow him to turn. “I’ve had jobs from pretty much all over the state.”

  “Do you have to travel a lot?”

  “I wouldn’t say a lot. But jobs need to be checked on. Most are less than a day’s drive, though.” He turned again, and she realized they’d already reached the restaurant.

  There were dozens of vehicles parked in front of it and a small group of people congregated on the sidewalk outside the entrance.

  Megan joined the queue while Nick went inside to get their name on the list. Then he returned with a menu in his hands. “In case you want to look it over.”

  It gave her something to do besides gnaw on whether or not he’d seen Delia at her father’s office. So she pored over the extensive menu with far more interest than she actually felt.

  The group in front of them shrank before long, but another family was now behind them. Six, with four kids playf
ully shoving each other.

  Nick’s arm came around her shoulder when one of the kids ran into Megan from behind.

  The frazzled-looking mom apologized, and the irritated-looking dad barked at the kids.

  “It’s fine,” Megan told them quickly. She offered her menu to them. “Want to take a look?”

  The littlest of the kids took it, and the one who seemed the oldest promptly snatched it away.

  Fortunately, Nick’s name was called then. His arm slid from her shoulders, but his fingers were still warm on the small of her back as she preceded him into the restaurant. They were shown to a table and Megan was glad to see that it wasn’t quite as cozy as the booth at Pizza Bella had been.

  “I feel a little underdressed,” she said under her breath when the waiter took away the extra place settings. “Tablecloths and everything.” She smoothed one hand over the linen fabric.

  Nick’s smile widened. “It is kind of rare around here. But you look great.” The waiter returned and filled their water glasses from a tall narrow pitcher that he left sitting on the table. “You always look great,” Nick added.

  She wished that was true, then was irritated with herself for even thinking it.

  The waiter handed them menus and Megan pretended to study hers. When he returned for their order, she was sad to have to give up the prop. Since she hadn’t really been paying attention to the selections, she ordered the kung pao chicken only because she’d heard the guy one table over just order it. “Extra spicy,” she added before folding her hands in her lap. She’d discarded her ruined bandage in the trash can outside the restaurant, which left her nothing to fiddle with.

  “Extra spicy. Brave, considering the healing ulcer.”

  That’s what you get for lying, missy.

  She slid the linen napkin from beneath her flatware and spread it over her lap. Folded it, then unfolded it again.

  Nick muttered something under his breath and leaned toward her. His large hand covered both of hers.

  She froze and stared into his eyes. His face was just a few inches from hers.

  “Are you always this fidgety?” he asked. “Or is it just me who brings it out in you?”

  “I’m not fidgety.”

  His expression didn’t change.

  She exhaled. “Fine. It’s you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “Why? Because of what happened in March?”

  “What—what else would it be?”

  His hand squeezed hers briefly before he leaned back in his chair again. “At least that’s finally honest.”

  She swallowed, feeling miserable.

  “Megan...” He hesitated, as if he was hunting for the right words to say. “I’m not going to deny that I’m interested. But if you’re still worrying about me having expectations, I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “I’m not.” Her voice sounded brittle even to her own ears. “Let’s just—just talk about the barn. That’s supposed to be the topic of the hour.”

  “Yeah.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “The barn.”

  So they did.

  He even went back out to his SUV to get that yellow notepad of his and flipped to a fresh page to make more notes.

  Considering how precise his architectural drawings were and how beautiful his artistic renderings were, his handwriting was almost appalling.

  And though it took a while, Megan was able to forget her uptightness. Forget just how enormous the secret was that she wasn’t willing to share yet.

  But by the time they’d worked their way through her kung pao—spicy enough to make her eyes water—and his tofu-and-vegetable stir-fry, they’d moved on from the pro-and-con debate over where the structure should be located.

  And agreed on a spot very near where it had been planned all along.

  “Well, I guess you can give me hell now since we’ve essentially wasted the last week,” she conceded. “Since I was the one who insisted the barn needed to be bigger in the first place.”

  “Solutions, remember? Good or bad, every idea we’ve tossed around this past week has landed us here.” He tapped the rough sketch he’d made of the new plan. “With something neither one of us had in our minds from the outset. And—” he smiled at her “—if we go with more prefab elements like you were just talking about, our timeline might even be shorter.”

  The waiter appeared by their tableside. “Can I get you anything else? Another dessert? Refills?”

  Megan realized then just how long she and Nick had been commandeering their table. Outside the restaurant windows, it was dark. But the long line of people waiting for a table was easily visible through them. “No thank you.” She reached for the black folder that he’d left sitting near Nick several glasses of lemonade ago. “Nick?”

  “Agreed,” he said, and she had the distinct feeling that he was struggling not to pick up the dinner tab.

  But he didn’t.

  She paid the bill, leaving an extragenerous tip because of the amount of time they’d hogged the table.

  Once they were headed back to Weaver, she couldn’t help a yawn before they’d even been on the road for ten minutes.

  “Sleepy?”

  “Full.” She patted her stomach, then blinked her way through another yawn.

  Nick chuckled. “Give it another hour. Food’ll wear off.” He turned down the radio until it was little more than a gloss over the muted sound of the engine and the tires on the road.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t suggest a shed row before now.” She shook her head.

  “Neither did anyone else,” he pointed out. “We were collectively stuck on the aisle-barn idea. It won’t take me much time to work up the new design. The structure will be long as hell, but with just the single row of stalls—”

  “Enclosed,” she reminded him. Which was a bit of a turn on the traditional shed row.

  “Enclosed,” he agreed. “And we can run the turnout alongside the road.”

  “And everyone who drives up to the lodge can admire the horses along the way. First they’ll see the riding arena. Then another curve in the road and they’ll see the stables.”

  She could picture it very clearly in her mind. Even the horses would be afforded the million-dollar view, whether they were in their stalls or out in the spacious grassy turnout area right next to them.

  “We can stake it out first thing Monday morning.”

  “Sounds good.” She rested her head against the seatback and watched the taillights of the vehicle ahead of them. “And I’ll get in touch with the guy I know at Duncan Custom about the stall gates and the rest of the accessories. This would be a big job for them, but they’ve always been able to deliver in a very short time when I’ve worked with them before.” She stifled another yawn—badly—behind the back of her hand. “Sorry.”

  “You’re going to have me yawning, too, in a minute,” he warned easily. “Might get dicey on this particular road.”

  The road was narrow, steep in spots and riddled with curves. “I trust your driving.”

  “Well, hey. Mark the calendar. She actually trusts me.”

  She smiled. “Truthfully, though, the highway here’s almost as bad as the road going up to the lodge.”

  “Which was a helluva lot worse before you even saw it in March. By then we’d added several more safety rails and widened a few passes where they could be widened.”

  “I don’t think I’d have wanted to see the road any earlier than I did,” Megan admitted. She yawned a third time. “Good grief,” she muttered.

  The sound of his deep, soft chuckle curled around her senses.

  “The road out to Angel River isn’t nearly as difficult. It’s just long and boring until you hit the river valley. And then it’s—” She shook her head and sighed slightly, envisioning the river and the trees and the cabins spread
out like jewels on a bracelet. “It’s like you’ve landed in a little corner of heaven.”

  “Already missing it, are you?”

  She’d expected to. But half of what she missed most about Angel River was now in Denver. “I’ve only just gotten here this week,” she replied.

  The taillights were beginning to mesmerize her, and she blinked hard, pushing herself upright a little more because she’d been slouching forward. “We don’t have to wait until Monday to stake it out. It’s not like I’m doing anything else this weekend.” Then she remembered and waved her hand. “Forget that. You already said you were busy this weekend.”

  “Shelby’s graduating from junior high next Friday. She’s having her party this Sunday. I need to get a gift first.”

  “This is your horse-crazy sister you’re talking about?”

  He chuckled again. That deep, sexy, nerve-soothing, gut-tightening chuckle. “One and the same. I have another sister, too. Sunny, but she came along after my dad married Lucy.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to get Shelby?”

  “Nope. My dad admitted they’re surprising her with a horse, though.”

  “Lucky girl. I didn’t have my own horse until I’d been living at Angel River for five years. Earhart.”

  “As in Amelia?”

  She nodded. “I still have her. Just get your sister something for the horse. Saddle. Blanket. There are endless possibilities there.”

  “That’s what my dad suggested, too. Problem is, I have to actually choose one of those possibilities and there’s not a lot of time between now and then.” She felt his glance. “You were a thirteen-year-old girl once. What did you like then? And please don’t tell me thirteen-year-old boys.”

  She laughed outright. “I’m afraid that may leave me with nothing else to suggest.”

  He groaned.

  She pointed a finger at him. “You were no different and don’t pretend you were. In fact, you were probably worse. Only thing boys that age are thinking of is sex. In double fact—” she jabbed her fingertip into his arm “—the only thing boys of all ages are thinking about is sex. I mean, generally speaking.” She wanted to smack herself in the head for even getting on to the topic.