The Horse Trainer's Secret Page 12

  Generalizations or not.

  The truck in front of them suddenly turned off the highway and she gripped her armrests tightly as she peered out at the spot where the taillights had disappeared. “I hope there was a road there.”

  “There is. Quite a few of them, in fact. There are turnoffs all the way to Weaver. A couple cattle ranches. At least one sheep farm that I know of. Lot of pretty land, actually. And convenient living midway between Weaver and Braden. What one town doesn’t have, the other one does.”

  She relaxed. “Like Chinese food.” She watched him in the light from the dashboard. “You do live in Weaver, don’t you? I mean, you’re not driving me all the way to the Cozy Night just to have to turn around again and drive—”

  “I live in Weaver.” He’d cut her off, sounding amused. “I have a condo not all that far from Shop-World.”

  “A condo.” She shuddered. “Seriously? You’re an architect!”

  “Architects can’t live in condos?” There was mocking laughter in his tone.

  “Well, obviously, they can live wherever they want.” She angled herself in the seat and tucked her hand beneath her cheek. “Just seems an unexpected choice in your case.”

  Again with the chuckle that sent slippery warmth through her. “It’s temporary. Until I find the right place to build my personal dream.”

  “What’re you looking for?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. He glanced her way. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

  She swallowed and faced forward again.

  But the damage was done. His words seemed to echo in the space between them all the rest of the way to Weaver.

  She was never so glad to see the neon Cozy Night sign in her life.

  Nor had she ever been so grateful when he didn’t pull into the empty parking spot next to her truck after he drove into the lot.

  If he had, it would have been way too easy for him to turn off the engine.

  To come into the room with her...

  She unsnapped her seat belt. No amount of willpower would block the erotic images inside her head. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line tonight?”

  “Okay, thanks for driving us to dinner.” She shoved open the passenger door and got out. “I’ll see you up on the mountain first thing Monday morning.” She started to close the door.

  “Megan.”

  Every cell she possessed went still. She was hovering on a precipice that felt as seductive as it was dangerous.

  “Come with me to Shelby’s party.”

  She tightened her fingers around the strap of her purse. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Nick.”

  “It’s just a bunch of family and some friends.”

  Friends like Delia?

  “April and Jed will be there,” he added. “They’ll be interested to hear what we’re thinking on the barn. And I can introduce you to Axel Clay. He’s a breeder you’re going to want to meet. Does a lot of horse trading, too.”

  She felt as deflated as a million balloons popped by sharp pins.

  Business.

  Of course.

  It’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? To keep things on a business footing?

  “Just say yes, Megan,” he said quietly. “It’s not that hard. And I can guarantee the good food. There’s always lots of good food.”

  She pressed her lips together.

  But even though she shook her head, the word that finally came out was yes.

  Chapter Nine

  Even though she’d agreed to go to the party for Nick’s sister, Megan insisted on getting herself there.

  And so, on Sunday, she arrived alone at the massive home belonging to Nick’s folks where a hoard of people had congregated beneath the brilliant blue sky.

  It’s just a bunch of family and some friends, Nick had said.

  More like half the town.

  She’d had to park quite a distance down the gravel road, behind a long row of vehicles that had arrived before her. As a result, she’d also had ten extra minutes while she walked the rest of the way to the house to silently berate herself for agreeing so easily to come.

  Simply because Nick asked.

  She hadn’t even seen him yet; it was April who spotted her and introduced her to the soon-to-be, junior-high graduate. “Megan’s in town for a couple months doing some work with us up on the mountain,” she told Shelby, and the girl nodded, the hint of confusion in her eyes clearing.

  “I wondered if he’d gotten a new girlfriend and didn’t tell me!” Shelby Ventura’s brown hair was lighter than Nick’s and her eyes were golden brown. Her shorts were short and her top was cropped.

  Unlike Megan, who had felt self-conscious about her similarly angular figure at the same age, Shelby just showed hers off with enviable naturalness.

  “Not a girlfriend.” Megan managed a laugh and hoped she didn’t look as awkward as she felt. She extended the small box wrapped in bright blue paper and topped with a curling mop of white ribbons. “Congratulations.”

  Shelby possessed her brother’s ready smile. “You didn’t have to bring a gift.”

  “I heard this is your junior-high graduation party.” Megan pointedly looked at the gift-laden table behind the girl. “To me that means gifts are definitely required.”

  Shelby laughed. “It looks too pretty to open.”

  “I’d take credit for that, but honestly, it was the girl at Classic Charms who deserves it.” Thanks to the advice of the waitress in Ruby’s Diner, Megan had visited the eclectic shop in search of an appropriate gift for a teenage girl she’d never met. She hoped that Shelby liked the glass horse figurine she’d found as much as she did.

  She started when she felt a hand on her shoulder and swallowed a protest when Nick put his arm around her.

  “I see you’ve met already.” In honor of the exceptionally pleasant afternoon, he was wearing cargo shorts and a T-shirt that clung in every distracting way that a T-shirt possibly could.

  More distracting than that, though, was the cute little girl clinging to his back like a limpet. She looked like a miniature female version of him, from the deep brown hair to the dove-gray eyes.

  “Sorry I didn’t catch you when you arrived,” he said. He bounced the girl on his back and she squealed excitedly. “Sunny, here, was keeping me busy.”

  If their baby is a girl, will she look as much like Nick as Sunny?

  The thought was disturbing. Mostly because of how dangerously sweet it felt.

  As did his companionable arm on her shoulders.

  “I’m a big girl.” Megan took a step sideways—and out from beneath that arm—to place her gift among the jumble of others on the table. Closer to the house, several other tables were covered with pink cloths and trays of food. Huge bouquets of pink and purple helium balloons were anchored from the table corners.

  Music was playing loudly and at least a dozen kids—as varied in ages as those in the doctor’s office—were chasing each other around with water pistols, screeching and laughing.

  “Chloe’s looking for you,” Nick told Shelby almost as if that had been his reason for appearing in the first place. “She was with Dillon.”

  The girl’s eyes widened and she immediately pivoted on the heel of her sparkle-studded sandal. But then she skidded to a stop and looked at Megan again. “Thank you for coming,” she said in a polite rush before she darted away.

  “Shelby likes Dillon,” Sunny said importantly. “But I’m gonna marry him.”

  Nick’s eyebrows rose as he looked over his shoulder at the girl. “You’re six years old, kiddo. What’re you doing talking about marrying anyone?”

  “He shares his cookies with me.” She patted his cheek as if the answer was obvious. “Nicky, I want down.”

  He swung her off his
back and she smoothed her frilly red-and-white polka-dotted dress before dashing off after her big sister.

  Nick looked at Megan. “I don’t know whether to laugh or lock her up.”

  “She’s definitely a cutie. Both of your sisters are.”

  Those are your baby’s aunts, missy.

  She pushed her hands into her back pockets and avoided his eyes. “Nice place your folks have.”

  “Yeah. Dad built it from the ground up, but Lucy’s added her touch since they got married.” He glanced around. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

  “Oh, but—”

  It was too late. He’d already grabbed her elbow and was towing her toward the food tables. An older version of Nick manned a charcoal grill while an ethereal-looking blonde next to him waited with a big platter in her hands.

  “Dad. Luce.” Nick’s grip wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t going anywhere, either. “This is Megan Forrester.”

  The blonde smiled widely. “The horse trainer!” She set aside her platter and stuck out a graceful, narrow hand. “We’re so pleased to meet you. Nicky’s talked of nothing but you for weeks now.”

  Nicky looked chagrined. “Megan. This is Lucy. My beautiful but bigmouthed stepmother. And my dad. Beck Ventura.”

  Megan shook Lucy’s hand, then Beck’s. “Pleased to meet you.” She looked around her. “You have a lovely place here,” she added. “And your daughters are both sweet.”

  “Sunny announced that she intends to marry Dillon McCray,” Nick said. “Just wanted to warn you.”

  Lucy picked up her platter again. “Last week she wanted to marry Eli Scalise.” Her laughing eyes met Megan’s. “But since he’s already twenty—and therefore old—she decided she needed to focus on someone younger.”

  Beck, however, was shaking his head and groaning. “Our daughters are making me old.” He gestured with his barbecue tongs. “You like steak, Megan? First batch is almost ready.”

  Ordinarily, Megan loved steak. But the fragrant smoke rising from the grill was doing a number on her stomach.

  “We’ll get it on the second round,” Nick said before she could figure out a polite way to decline. “I want to introduce Megan around first.”

  Without waiting for them to comment, he drew Megan away again. “I saw Axel driving up not too long ago. He’s the breeder I was telling you about. Works with his dad.”

  “Clay Farms,” Megan said with a nod. “I’d heard of them even before I got involved with Gage’s deal. But Sean’s always had me deal with a trader out of Montana whenever we’ve needed to acquire a horse for Angel River.”

  “Were you wanting to use the same place for here?”

  “That’s kind of up to Gage and those two.” She nodded toward April and Jed, who were sitting at a picnic table with a handful of other people. “They’re the ones writing the check.”

  “Axel’s a cousin,” Nick said, as if that would settle it.

  “Around this place, the term cousin seems to cover a lot of ground.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he agreed humorously. “But it’s easier than saying someone is your half cousin by marriage once removed or something equally confusing.” He waved his arm, encompassing the crowd. “I like to think of the family tree more like a family garden. Lots of stuff that belongs there whether it’s sprouted naturally or was transplanted.”

  Megan’s stomach fluttered nervously. Her family garden would have one more now. Birdie. Megan.

  Baby.

  She realized she’d pressed her hand to her stomach and quickly shifted her fingers to her hip. She could see Shelby and a few other girls about her age preening for a clique of boys who seemed oblivious. “Is the you-know-what still a surprise?”

  He nodded. “Lucy’s parents are supposed to deliver the package sometime this afternoon. Cage and Belle have been hiding the you-know-what at their ranch for the last few days.”

  “What did you end up getting her?”

  “A horse blanket. It’s a god-awful shade of pink with some sparkly kind of stitching.”

  If the girl’s glittery sandals and the plethora of pink and purple party decorations were any indication, Nick’s choice would be right up Shelby’s alley.

  “Yo, Nick!” Two tall, handsome teenagers who were obviously twins jogged past, tossing a football between them. “You up for a rematch?”

  “You’ll still lose,” Nick told them, without breaking stride.

  Their derisive hoots floated in their wake.

  “That was Zach and Connor,” Nick told her.

  “J.D.’s boys?”

  “None other.”

  “Good-looking kids.” She watched them toss the ball back to another teenager about the same age.

  “They’re hellions,” Nick said wryly. He didn’t seem to notice that his hand had found hers.

  Megan certainly had.

  But try as she might to make herself pull her hand away, she felt as giddy as Shelby had looked when she’d run off to find Dillon.

  What followed then was a veritable parade of faces and names that Megan didn’t have a hope of retaining.

  On one side of the grassy lawn, she met April’s grandmother, Gloria, whose hair had probably been as brilliantly auburn in her day as April’s. On the other side of the party, she met Squire, the intimidatingly fierce gray-haired man who was Gloria’s estranged husband.

  And in all the green acreage between them, Megan met aunts of so-and-so. Uncles of someone else. And, of course, cousins.

  Lots and lots of cousins.

  She talked equine traits with Axel, tractors with Jed and the merits of checkers versus chess with Nick’s grandfather Stan.

  But when Nick nudged a plate containing a thick slab of oozing grilled meat into her hand, she had to beg off.

  “Sorry.” She realized she couldn’t even look at the steak without feeling her stomach rise up in her throat. “Where’s the—?”

  “Right inside the back door,” April told her, obviously recognizing the urgency. And Megan bolted.

  She thought she heard Nick say something about “ulcer” before she raced into the house.

  Fortunately, the powder room really was just inside the back door of the house.

  And it was unoccupied.

  Unfortunately, the small, open window high up on the wall allowed that ordinarily delicious aroma of grilling steak to flow right into the small room.

  It did not help the situation.

  After she threw up, all she wanted to do was curl up weakly on the cool tiles of the pretty room. But she knew that if she didn’t get herself together, Nick would come looking.

  She dragged herself up to the sink. Her face looked pale in the mirror, but otherwise pretty normal. Too long a nose. Too wide a mouth. Ordinary blue eyes. And tiny lines her new night cream hadn’t yet eradicated.

  She smoothed the front of the red blouse she’d trotted out in honor of the party and raked her fingers through her hair until it was lying smooth, more or less, behind her shoulders.

  A stack of violently pink paper guest towels sat on the marble vanity top and she used more than her fair share to wash and dry her face. She rinsed her mouth as best she could, and with her very last lemon drop tucked inside her cheek, she went back out to brave the world.

  She nearly bumped into Gloria and Squire, who were squaring off in the kitchen.

  They’d obviously been arguing but went silent at the sight of Megan.

  “’Scuse me,” Megan murmured hastily and escaped out through the back door.

  The lid on the grill was shut; Nick’s father was no longer tending it. It was quickly obvious why—Shelby was over at the table of gifts, opening them.

  Megan knew if she tried making her escape from the party altogether while everyone was conveniently occupied, Nick would make a big deal of it later on.
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  Birdie always said to hold your head high no matter what the gossips were saying.

  Megan wasn’t vain enough to figure anyone was gossiping about her, but she straightened her shoulders, anyway, as she crossed the green grass toward the crowd surrounding Shelby and her gifts.

  Nick immediately materialized at her side even though she’d chosen to hang back behind everyone else. “You okay?”

  She pushed the lemon drop from one cheek to the other with her tongue and nodded.

  “Maybe you should see someone,” he suggested. “Obviously that ulcer isn’t as healed as you say. Lucy’s brother’s a doct—”

  “I’m fine.”

  He looked ready to argue, but Shelby suddenly screeched because she’d noticed the horse that her grandfather was leading into view.

  Megan loved horses. Any breed. Any color.

  But even she knew there was something magical about a palomino. Particularly to a thirteen-year-old girl.

  The elegant Morgan horse possessed a golden yellow coat and flowing white mane and tail. She looked absolutely perfect in every way and there was a collective “awww” when Shelby burst into tears and leaped right up into her grandpa’s arms.

  Megan looked down at the toes of her boots—she’d even polished them for the occasion—and quickly swiped a finger under her lashes.

  “Are you crying again?”

  She whipped up her head and almost choked on her melting lemon drop. “I never cry.”

  Nick leaned closer to her ear. “You never snore, either.” Then he gave a soft oomph when her elbow hit him in the stomach.

  Smirking, she walked away, aiming for the food tables, where she glanced over the offerings. Steak was out of the question, of course, and the deviled eggs arranged on a tray nestled in ice were a close second.

  But there was a bowl of fresh melon and berries that looked appealing and Megan dropped a big spoonful onto her paper plate. She chose a lemon-lime drink from a barrel of melting ice containing canned soda and bottles of flavored water, then carried everything to one of the picnic tables that had been abandoned during the excitement over the gifts.

  Her shoulders stiffened when she heard a rustle behind her, but it was Gloria Clay. She was holding one of the flavored waters and she smiled as she sat down across from Megan and situated her floaty floral dress around her.