The Horse Trainer's Secret Page 13
“Those melons are a good choice.” The gentle lines arrowing out from Gloria’s eyes deepened slightly with her smile. “Doesn’t change too much when it’s coming up.”
Megan grimaced at this proof that the woman had heard her retching in the powder room, and Gloria reached over to pat her arm. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. I was a nurse for a long time.” Her gaze drifted, following Squire as he approached the white-maned horse.
Megan automatically glanced that way, too. The tall lean man carried a cane but didn’t particularly look as if he needed to use it.
She focused again on her fruit salad and opened the can of icy soda.
“I also raised two daughters.” Gloria’s attention had snapped back to Megan. She waited a beat. “Who are raising their own now, as well,” she added.
There was nothing at all similar between Gloria Clay and Birdie Forrester. Not their looks. Definitely not their manner. There was no earthly way that this woman she’d just met could know that Megan was pregnant, any more than Birdie could know.
But even though ulcer was screaming inside Megan’s head, something about Gloria prevented her from actually uttering the lie.
She also didn’t seem able to utter anything else because her mind was an absolute blank.
So she offered what she hoped passed for a smile and shoved another chunk of melon into her mouth. And was impossibly grateful when Nick tossed a paper plate on the table next to hers and sat down.
She didn’t even necessarily mind the sight of the chargrilled steak that covered half of it. Or the fact that his warm shoulder bumped against hers.
Close by, Shelby was now astride the horse’s bare back while Squire held the lead.
“I drove by the library the other day,” Gloria said brightly. She swept a lock of hair away from her cheek and tucked it into the clip holding the rest of the wavy mass at the back of her head. “It all looks magnificent, Nick. Vivian must be very pleased.”
Megan would have had to be blind to miss the wary look Nick shot toward Squire.
But his voice was natural enough when he answered. “Very pleased.”
“Is there anything I can do for the grand opening? I’d be happy to volunteer in some way.”
Megan could have sworn the woman raised her voice so that it would carry. Meanwhile, Nick shifted and his thigh pressed against hers.
“I’ll pass that along to Delia. She’s supposed to be in charge of those particular moving parts.”
“Good to know. I know you see her often. Be sure and give her my best.” Gloria stood and her dress swished around her legs. Her smile was wide. Bright. “The things Vivian has done for this town are nothing short of remarkable.”
She turned then, her dress practically floating, and seemed to almost skip over to Shelby and the horse. “I want to get a picture of the two of us, sweetheart. Squire—” she held out a cell phone “—you don’t mind, do you?”
Nick made a sound under his breath and attacked his steak. Megan couldn’t help being impressed that the steak seemed to cut like butter despite the plastic knife and fork he was using.
Even though she knew it wasn’t any of her business—at all—she leaned against him, keeping her voice low. “What’s going on there?”
“Stupidity,” he answered back, keeping his voice equally low. “And pride.”
Megan noted that Squire had taken the cell phone, though he made no pretense of being happy about it. She heard “infernal device” more than once, as well as a few colorful curses while he captured a photo of his preening wife and great-granddaughter.
Then he shoved the phone back into Gloria’s hand and stomped off.
Megan watched him go. “Does he ever actually use the cane for walking? Or just to make sure nobody gets in his way?” The man didn’t literally whack anyone with the long piece of knotty wood, but he definitely waved it a few times to clear a path for himself.
“No.” Somehow, Nick’s hand had landed lightly on her thigh, and she felt the imprint of each warm finger right through the denim. “And yeah. Pretty much.” With his fork, he stabbed a chunk of watermelon from her plate and ate it.
“I beg your pardon?”
His eyes were alight. “Good watermelon.”
“Yes. My watermelon.” She pointed her own fork in the direction of the food. “There’s plenty of it right over there if you want your own.”
“But it wouldn’t be as good as yours.”
She rolled her eyes. “Eat your own food.”
“Whatever you say.” He grinned and shoved another bite of the tender-looking beef into his mouth.
But his hand didn’t leave her thigh.
And she didn’t fuss or protest at all.
Chapter Ten
“Catch that tie over there on that corner stake,” Nick yelled from where he stood nearly half a football field away.
It was eleven in the morning. A thick layer of gray cloud shrouded much of Rambling Mountain, a far cry from the brilliant blue sky that blessed Shelby’s party the day before. The wind was so strong that it snatched the barricade tape right out of their hands every time they tried to get it attached to the stakes that they’d spent the last hour pounding into the ground.
Megan danced around, trying to catch the lightweight orange ribbon whipping above her head. She finally succeeded and, hunching her back against the wind, tied it yet again around the corner post and hastily tacked it in with several construction staples. She straightened and waved the stapler, indicating success. “Got it!”
On the other end, Nick was playing his own game of chase-the-tape. She huddled in her jacket, moving from side to side as she stomped her feet, trying to stay warm.
She’d been born and raised in Wyoming. She knew the vagaries of weather very well.
But they never had wind like this in Wymon or Angel River.
She squinted through the hair blowing across her face, watching the crew working on the lodge. The cold temperature and gusting wind weren’t standing in their way at all.
Since last week, the bare bones of the frame had gradually been covered up by the exterior sheathing. Now it was easy to see where the doors were going to be. How immense the windows would be.
In contrast, the lean rectangular outline that she and Nick were constructing was nothing but a series of wooden stakes and bright orange tape.
For the last two hours, he’d measured. Then pounded in a stake. Then measured again. He’d moved stakes. Measured more. Taken more notes. Yes, the entire thing was on an incline from its highest point near the construction trailer to its farthest point some distance down the road. But based on the beautiful new drawing Nick had posted in the trailer that morning, Megan could tell that the design was going to work perfectly.
In reality, it wouldn’t just be a single barn. It would be a series of them, with several spacious stalls each, arranged neatly down the incline. He’d done the same design for the storage buildings that would house the office, all the tack and equipment and everything else needed for the care and feeding of the horses.
And the overall structures echoed the spectacular beauty of the lodge itself.
She hadn’t even wanted to look at the architectural plans.
Hadn’t needed to.
Because what he’d drawn on paper had even exceeded the images she’d formed in her mind.
She was sorry that she wouldn’t still be there to see it once it was completed and occupied by its new equine residents. But when that day arrived, her job would be finished and it would be up to the new barn manager to enjoy. She would be back in Angel River.
Alone.
She pushed away the thought.
He jogged back up to where she was still stomping around to prevent her feet from becoming blocks of ice and tossed the few wood stakes they hadn’t used off to one side.
She tucked her chin into the upturned collar of her jacket. “Looks perfect.”
Nobody needed to know that she wasn’t just talking about the staked-out barns.
“I think so, too.” He stuffed his notepad under his arm and started walking back uphill. They both had to lean into the wind to make any progress and when they reached the construction trailer and he held open the door for her, she dashed inside.
And was immediately surrounded by warmth.
She dropped the heavy stapler into the toolbox and rolled one of the desk chairs closer to the wall unit providing all of that welcome heat. “So now what do we do next?”
“Huddle together to stay warm?”
Something inside her fluttered and it had nothing to do with morning sickness.
She glanced at the heating unit behind her. “Got that covered already.”
Flashing a smile, he tossed the barricade tape and his pad on the desk nearest the door. Then he pulled off his cap and stuffed it into the pocket of his vest. His dark, messy hair tumbled over his forehead.
“Next—” he turned up one flannel sleeve a few turns “—there’s more paperwork to be filed. More government tape to deal with.”
She’d leaned over to grab the tape when it rolled off the desk. “Hope it won’t be as bad as what we just went through out there with this stuff.” She set the thick spool on the desk next to her.
He rolled up his other sleeve and poured himself a cup of coffee. Still holding the glass carafe, he gave her a questioning look.
She shook her head. “Already had my allotment for the day.”
“Just as well.” He took a sip. “It’s not like Ruby’s.” He spun one of the chairs around and sat down, propping a sturdy work boot on his knee. “Once we get an official okay to proceed—”
“How long do you think that’ll take?”
“Could be a week. Could be a month.”
“A month!” She pushed out of her chair. “I might as well go back to Angel River if I’m going to be sitting on my thumbs for that long.”
“It’s unlikely that it will take that long, but it’s still a possibility. A lot depends on how well I do my job.” He flicked the thick sheaf of plans spread across the desk. “Fortunately, we’re not starting from scratch like we were with the entire development plan. And, meanwhile, there’s plenty to keep you busy when it comes to the barn interior. Choices for materials. Stall accessories. The whole prefab thing when it comes to stall enclosures and gates or whether a hybrid approach is better. We’re going to want to meet with the builder on that.”
The door to the trailer opened, and they both looked over as April Dalloway hurried inside.
“Freezing out there,” she said breathlessly. She closed the door and unwound the brilliant blue scarf from around her head and neck. “June is only a little ways away, so naturally the weather has to take a nosedive.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulders and unzipped her coat. “Thought I’d come down and take a look at the progress. The lodge is really taking shape! I hope it doesn’t rain again and slow things down.”
Given how dark the clouds were, Megan wasn’t optimistic on that score. But she didn’t want anything impeding their progress, either.
“I took some pictures of what you staked out there.” April waved her cell phone. “I’ve already sent them to Jed and Gage.” She leaned back against the desk near Nick and crossed her ankles. “Have fun at the party yesterday?”
She was looking at Megan.
“Yeah. It was...it was nice.”
“Gorgeous horse for Shelby,” April said to Nick. “Come from Axel’s place?”
“Where else?”
April’s gaze bounced back to Megan. “Let me know when you want to go out there. I’d like to go with you.”
“Of course. I hadn’t made any firm plan yet, but—”
April lifted her cell phone and grinned. “Easily taken care of.” She started tapping on the screen. “No reason for you to monopolize every minute of Megan’s time, is there, Nick?”
“I suppose I could share her for a while.” His gaze slid over Megan, making her feel even warmer than the heater did.
April held the phone to her ear. “Hey. You have some pretty ponies I can come look at? This afternoon? Tomorrow?” She listened for a moment, then nodded. “That works. See you then.” She slid the phone back into her coat pocket. “This afternoon,” she said, straightening from the desk. “We’ll have lunch first,” she added and gave Nick a sideways look. “Girls’ lunch, so don’t think you’re going to butt in the way you tend to do.”
“Isn’t that sexist these days?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Whether it is or not, you and your dad are meeting up with Jed at the Rad this afternoon, anyway. So why go down the mountain, only to have to turn around and come back up?” She looked at the round utilitarian clock hanging on the wall. “If we leave now, we’ll still get to Ruby’s before it closes.” She looked at Megan and began winding her scarf around her neck again. “Have you been to Ruby’s yet?”
Megan nodded. Just the thought of the Reuben sandwich there was enough to make her mouth water. She stood up. “I have my own truck up here, so I’ll have to follow you down.”
April dropped a kiss on Nick’s cheek and pulled open the trailer door, which allowed a gust of wind to blast through, scattering papers left and right. “Yikes.” She ducked her head and hurried out.
“Drive carefully,” he warned Megan as she followed.
“I’m always careful.”
Then why are you two and a half months pregnant, missy?
She yanked the door closed after her and shielded her eyes from the wind as she hurried along the boardwalk after April toward their vehicles.
The wind buffeted her truck as she followed April’s sporty red SUV down the winding road, but it began to die down the more they descended toward the highway. By the time Megan pulled into a slanted parking spot against the curb half a block from the diner, at least her knuckles were no longer white.
They had to wait a few minutes for a table, so Megan went to use the restroom. When she came back, April was sitting at one of the corner booths.
Tina, the same waitress who’d recommended the Classic Charms shop to Megan, took their order and hurried away.
“So,” April said as she doctored her iced tea. “How’re things going with Nick?”
The words were straightforward enough. But the I-know-what-you-did-last-March singsong quality, along with April’s sly smile added an entirely different spin.
“They’re fine,” Megan said as if she didn’t have a clue what April meant.
“Oh, come on.” April wasn’t going to give up quite that easily. “You know what I mean.”
“And there’s nothing to say,” Megan insisted. For some reason she thought of Rory and all the times she’d egged on her friend when it came to the subject of her budding romance with Gage.
“He’s a great guy, you know. Honest. Brave. The real true blue.”
Sexy as all hell.
Megan smoothed the paper napkin over her lap. “You sound like his campaign manager and he’s running for local office. Which means there’s some scandal in there that you’re hiding.”
April laughed. “I’ve known Nick for ten years. Trust me. No scandal. No secrets. The guy is as up-front as it’s possible to get.”
No secrets.
That didn’t make Megan feel too great.
At least she managed not to run her finger beneath the suddenly too-tight collar of her thin turtleneck. “What happened to Chance Michaels, anyway?”
“Ah. Good old Chance.”
April rolled her eyes and shook her head. “His wife found out he was cheating on her and took off with everything they owned. He headed off down to Florida to convince her it was all some big mistake.”
“Was it?”
“Not if Janine Crowley’s obviously pregnant belly is anything to go by. She’s a cocktail waitress at JoJo’s. Chance was a regular patron there.” She looked disgusted. “The dimwit. Chance, I mean. Not Janine.”
Megan tugged on her turtleneck.
April probably didn’t notice because just then the waitress returned with their food. She barely paused as she slid the sandwich baskets onto their table.
Megan immediately tucked in. It was the first full meal she’d had since her bout at the party and she felt ravenous. April must have felt the same, because she focused on her food, too, much to Megan’s relief.
When they were finished with the meal, Megan climbed into April’s SUV and they drove out to Clay Farms, where they found Axel Clay watching over a newborn foal.
April and Megan both hung over the side of the foaling stall to watch the little brown girl work so hard to get up on her spindly legs. With her back legs finally braced wide, her front legs looked as if they’d give out. Then she plopped down in the straw only to try to stand yet again. And again. Until finally, she was on all fours, big eyes swiveling around for her mama, who’d alternated between cleaning her newborn and backing away to give her the space and encouragement she needed to find her first meal.
“I want her,” April said when the foal was finally nursing. She was smiling through her tears.
“You want every foal you’ve ever laid eyes on,” Axel responded. “And you can’t have her, ’cause she’s already promised to a client.”
“I’m a client,” April reminded him.
“I do have a few others,” he said dryly and shook Megan’s hand. “Let’s go back to the office and talk about what you’re looking for up at the—” He glanced at April. “What are you going to call the place?”