A Weaver Baby Page 6

  Maggie covered J.D.’s hands and rubbed them. “What can we do?”

  “Pray.”

  It was Ryan who drove J.D. to her new home from the Double-C.

  He didn’t want to talk any more than she did. Nor did he try to coddle her with reassurances that when she learned more details about Latitude, it would probably be to learn that he was going to be okay.

  For that alone, she was grateful, and didn’t mind that his offer was probably more of an excuse to escape the birthday party than anything else.

  Once inside her house, she sidled between moving boxes and turned on her television and her laptop computer. The Internet would probably have details more quickly about Latitude than the television. But the Champagne Stakes wasn’t the media darling that some races were, and the sketchy details she did find were grim. Sideofhoney had been humanely euthanized at the racetrack. Latitude’s condition was still unknown and by that night, she knew little more than she’d known at the Double-C.

  She turned down the volume on the television and picked up the phone again.

  She was so used to not receiving an answer, that when the ringing was abruptly replaced by Jake’s rough-sounding, voice, she very nearly dropped the telephone.

  “If this is another reporter, no comment.”

  “Jake, wait. It’s J.D.” She had to push the words past her tight throat. “Are you all right?”

  He was silent for a moment. “Don’t you mean is Latitude all right?”

  Her throat constricted even more. She sank weakly onto the hand-me-down chair she’d pillaged from her parents’ basement. “I mean all of you. Including Latitude.”

  “None of us is good. Including Latitude.”

  Which didn’t tell her yet if the beloved colt was even still alive. She looked at the glassy darkness of the big picture window that had taken hours of polishing and her eyes stung. “I was watching the race,” she finally said huskily. “You put Pedro on.”

  “And he won it for us.” His voice was even. “Nobody expected Side to go down like he did. Jockeys with five times the experience as Pedro wouldn’t have been able to prevent Lat’s fall.” He was silent for a moment. “He fractured his left rear cannon.”

  She tucked her tongue between her teeth. The cannon bone was akin to a human’s shin. A break there was an almost guarantee against racing again. And if Latitude couldn’t race…

  “What are his chances?”

  Again, Jake was silent for a painfully long moment. “Poor. Randy Windsor has his case.”

  “He’s good.” She knew the man’s reputation. He was one of the best equine surgeons in the world. The fact that Jake already had him on Latitude’s case spoke both to Jake’s influence and the severity of Latitude’s injury.

  She paced down the hallway to the kitchen that was just as crowded with moving boxes as the rest of the modest two-story was. “Has he already done the surgery?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon.”

  “In New York?”

  “Why do you care? Are you going to be here to see whether Lat even makes it out of the anesthesia?”

  She jerked, feeling like he’d dealt her a physical blow. “Jake—”

  He blew out a noisy sigh. “Yes. He’s here. Miguel’s with him.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the air.”

  She blinked a little at that. Going where?

  She wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer. If Latitude had no chance of returning to racing, Jake would probably be wagering the likely profits of rehabilitating the animal for stud purposes. Lat had only a few winning races to his credit, even though they were significant, graded races. And while he had a perfectly decent pedigree, it wasn’t as stellar as some.

  Which was why Miguel hadn’t believed he would be a great racehorse in the first place. He believed that came from blood more than heart.

  She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. If she hadn’t talked them all into giving Latitude a chance, the colt would be injury-free right now, romping around for some rich little southern girl’s pleasure-riding delight instead of awaiting surgery for an injury that could be too severe—or too costly—to repair.

  She dropped her hand and tried to keep her voice calm. It was nearly impossible. “Does anyone know what sent Side-ofhoney down like that?”

  “Bobby Davis called me.” He named the other colt’s owner. “Said that Side broke both front ankles.”

  J.D. felt sick. “That poor thing. His rider?”

  “He crushed a couple ribs and broke his wrist. He’ll recover.” A jockey’s life was beset with injuries. “The racing stewards are reviewing it, deciding whether or not he should have pulled up Side during the race.” A jockey could be fined, disqualified, or even barred from racing altogether, based on the officials’ findings.

  It was a horrible situation for anyone to be in. From the owner to the jockey. Not to mention the horse.

  “Will you have someone let me know how the surgery goes?”

  “I’ll call you as soon as they contact me.”

  “You’re not planning to be there.” She turned away from the packing boxes and paced back into the living room. “Off to somewhere more important than Latitude,” her voice was acidic.

  “Actually, yes. The boys were suspended from school.” His Southern-smooth voice was flat. “I got the call from the headmaster about the same time I was helping load Latitude into the ambulance.”

  Fresh dismay swamped. “I’m sorry. Why were they suspended?”

  He was silent for a moment and in her mind’s eye she could see him raking his long fingers through his hair. “They broke into the science lab in the middle of the night last night, and set off some sort of goo-bomb.”

  “Goo?”

  “Sticky, slimy green stuff. The explosion spewed it all over the lab.”

  The vivid image filled her mind. “Was anybody hurt?”

  “Just the lab mice’s dignity. The little criminals weren’t found out until the security cameras they’d rerouted to some Internet cartoon channel were fixed.”

  Given the circumstances, the huff of laughter that tumbled out of her was thoroughly inappropriate. “I know I shouldn’t laugh. But they’re only nine. How’d they think up such things?”

  “It’s either laugh or cry,” Jake said. “Take your pick.”

  She’d done both that evening. “Do you have a plan?” Foolish question. Jake Forrest always had a plan.

  “Besides tar and feathers? Mabel’s got a list of alternate schools for me.”

  Naturally. “Isn’t it possible that the boys would prefer to go back to Georgia with you and that’s why they pulled such a stunt in the first place?”

  “No.”

  She bit her tongue, squelching further argument. Trying to understand Jake’s behavior when it came to his sons only meant she’d end up second-guessing herself even more.

  “I know one thing,” he said after a moment. “Lat would be a lot calmer with you around. I could have a charter there to pick you up in a matter of hours. You could see Latitude before he goes into surgery. You could be there if he comes out.”

  If. The tiny word seemed to echo hauntingly.

  “And then what?” Her voice went huskier. “I can’t stay with him, Jake. Not for the kind of time his recovery is going to take.”

  “Then after Windsor finishes with him, he’ll be in Miguel’s hands.”

  “Miguel is an excellent horseman.”

  “Yes, he is,” he agreed immediately.

  She also knew that Miguel had never really bonded with Latitude. Not the way she had.

  “If I go, and I’m not saying I will,” she said, without really being aware that she’d begun contemplating it, “I’ll take care of my own transportation.” Making her own arrangements meant she’d be in control. She could leave when she decided.

  “You’ll go.”

  His confidence was as annoying as it was intoxicating. “If I do, it does
n’t change anything beyond seeing him through the surgery. You understand that?”

  “I understand what you’re saying,” he assured smoothly.

  Which, of course, did not mean that he understood at all. How could he, when he didn’t know she was pregnant?

  She was so intent on her thoughts that the knock that came on her door startled her. Her gaze went to the old-fashioned clock on the fireplace mantel.

  “I need to go. Someone’s at my door.”

  “It’s nearly ten o’clock there. You have a lot of visitors this late?”

  Did he actually sound jealous? “No, which is why I need to see who’s there.” She headed to the door.

  “And what about Latitude?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “When?”

  Her hand tightened around the phone. “When I decide,” she said evenly. “Good night, Jake.”

  “J.D.—”

  Her thumb hovered over the end button but she put the phone back to her ear. “Yes?”

  “It was good to hear your voice.”

  Her heart squeezed, but there was nothing she could say in response, because as soon as he said it, he hung up.

  The knocking on her front door sounded again, more insistently, and she flipped the lock and pulled it open.

  Her sister, Angeline, stood outside, her long dark hair gleaming beneath the porch light. “I drove up as soon as I heard.”

  J.D. sucked in a breath and burst into tears.

  Chapter Six

  Angeline made a soft sound and stepped inside, wrapping her arms around J.D. and nudged the door closed behind them. She guided J.D. to the couch and held her until the awful racking slowed.

  Her eyes felt swollen and her throat felt raw, but J.D. finally sat back, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I never cry.”

  “It’s been a tough day for you.”

  J.D. laughed miserably. That was one way of putting it. “Where’re your men?”

  Angel smiled slightly and shrugged out of her coat. “Brody and the boy wonder are at Mom and Dad’s. I told Brody I was fine to drive up myself, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He’ll have to go back to Sheridan tomorrow night, though. He’s got a case in court Monday morning.” She squeezed J.D.’s hand. “Early and I can stay if you need, though.”

  “You were here barely two weeks ago. Brody’s going to start getting annoyed with me for taking his wife away from him every time he turns around.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about that if I were you.” Angel’s smile was serene. “I have ways of pacifying my husband.”

  J.D. pressed her hands against her closed eyes. “Latitude’s scheduled for surgery tomorrow.”

  “That doesn’t leave us much time to get there.”

  She dropped her hands to eye her sister. “Us? I haven’t even decided to go.”

  “Of course you’ll go.”

  “That’s pretty much what Jake said.” She pushed herself off the couch and went to the window, but all she saw was her own reflection. “As if he knows me so well.”

  Angeline joined her.

  They were the same height, but any similarity ended there. J.D. was lanky and had Maggie’s blond hair—only with an annoying curl in it—and Angeline was curvaceous with the exotic coloring and features of the Central American parents who’d perished when she was little more than a toddler. And though they’d both grown up as Clays, neither was one by birth.

  After marrying J.D.’s mother, Daniel had adopted J.D., then both Maggie and Daniel had adopted Angeline. And from the moment J.D. and Angeline had met, they’d been like two halves of a whole.

  Angeline was the one person who knew all of J.D.’s secrets. Good and bad. Yet J.D. still hadn’t admitted to her what had happened between her and Jake.

  “Everyone who knows you knows how much you love that horse,” Angel pointed out now. “It’s not such a leap. So what bugs you about it?” She pressed her dark head against J.D.’s. “Or is it just Jake in general that bothers you?”

  “He doesn’t bother me.”

  “He’s always bothered you,” Angel corrected wryly. “From the first time you met him. Or have you forgotten that you and I used to live together out there?”

  Of course she hadn’t. “It’s different now.”

  “Are you finally going to tell me why?”

  J.D. looked away from their reflections. “It’s not important,” she lied.

  “Oh, right. Whatever happened between the two of you sent you running here to Weaver. I’d say that makes it important.”

  “Who said anything happened?” She paced across the room.

  “Bluffing at the poker table is one thing you can do. Bluffing with me is one thing you can’t.” Angel’s gaze followed her. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

  J.D. stopped dead still. “What?” She looked down at herself. She kept waiting to see some significant difference in her body, but hadn’t. She looked back at her sister, but denying it seemed fruitless. “How can you tell? Does anyone else know?” The idea that her family might have figured it out, but said nothing, was far more unnerving than her own reasons for delaying in telling them.

  It wasn’t as if they’d be angry with her. The Clays, to a one, were a deeply loving family. Not for a moment did she worry that she wouldn’t have their love and support. The arrival of a baby in the family would be celebrated, unquestionably. But J.D. just wasn’t ready to talk about Jake. Knowing her family the way she did, they probably weren’t going to be too fond of her choice not to inform him of her pregnancy, no matter what her reasoning.

  “If they do, they haven’t said anything to me,” Angel assured. “I thought you looked a little different when I came up after you arrived, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. And now, you look even more so.” Her hand swept down the front of her form-fitting ivory sweater. “Or maybe I can just tell because like recognizes like.”

  J.D. stared. “You’re pregnant?”

  Angeline smiled. “The doctor confirmed it just yesterday afternoon. About seven weeks along. You?”

  J.D. sank weakly down on the couch. “Ten.” She looked up at her sister. “I didn’t think it was even possible to get pregnant.”

  “Because you have only one ovary left.” It wasn’t a question.

  “And a fallopian tube full of scarring,” J.D. added. “I went through all this with Rebecca when I was seventeen years old.” Her aunt was a physician and ran the small hospital in Weaver. She’d attended to J.D. when her frantic horse had stepped on her as well as the snake that had spooked her.

  “And as I recall, Rebecca didn’t tell you it would be impossible for you to get pregnant, but that it could present difficulties in the future when you were ready to start a family. Difficult. Not impossible. Obviously,” she added pointedly. “It’s Jake’s?”

  “He doesn’t know,” J.D. admitted, hating the guilt that colored her voice.

  “Is that why you’re afraid to see him if you go to Latitude now?”

  “Jake won’t be there,” J.D. said surely and told her about Jake’s sons’ latest act of mischief. “He thinks he has to stick them away in another boarding school again before he can get back to Latitude.”

  “So, he’s seeing to his sons’ needs before his own,” Angel reasoned. “What about that has you angry?”

  “I’m not angry.”

  Angel just watched her.

  “Okay.” She scrubbed her hands down her face again. “Maybe I am. But how Jake raises his children—” or doesn’t “—has nothing to do with me.”

  “Right. You’re just pregnant with one of his children and evidently making major decisions about it without consulting him.” She lifted her hands peaceably. “Don’t glare at me. I’m on your side. But if you’re so convinced he’s not going to be in New York, there’s no earthly reason why we can’t go there right now so you can see Latitude.”

  “I’m a big girl, Angel. You don’t ha
ve to go with me.”

  “I know I don’t. But I’m going, anyway. Early can stay with Mom. She’s always begging me to bring him more often. If Latitude’s surgery goes well, we’ll celebrate with milk shakes and if it doesn’t…” She tilted her head, her expression full of sympathy.

  J.D.’s eyes filled again. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Then Angel dusted her hands together and cleared her throat. “So. You pack and I’ll call the airlines. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  They arrived in New York with enough time for J.D to see Latitude before he limped into surgery with his leg wrapped in an immense compression boot. Though his head had come up when he saw her, the confusion in his eyes when they led him away had been heartbreaking.

  And then it was time to wait. Wait as the minutes ticked into hours and the hours had through the entire afternoon. Miguel was there, periodically. He was polite when J.D. introduced her sister but it was plain that he considered their presence unnecessary. It was also plain that he considered the surgery itself to be a waste of effort.

  “Jake should’ve let the track vet put him down when he attended to Sideofhoney,” he said more than once. “Even Missus Sidney argued with Jake. It’ll be a miracle if Latitude races again.”

  J.D. wanted to shout at the man that miracles did happen. And the miracle that counted right now wasn’t whether Latitude raced again, but that he survived at all. Instead, she’d just turned away and walked to the other side of the waiting area.

  About four hours after they arrived, they heard footsteps again. But instead of the white-jacketed Dr. Windsor that appeared, it was Jake, looking every inch the wealthy businessman that he was in his perfectly tailored gray suit and silver tie.

  She went hot, then cold, and was vaguely aware of Angeline’s sideways glance as her sister finally stepped toward the man, her hand outstretched. “Mr. Forrest,” she introduced. “I’m Angeline Paine. J.D.’s sister. I’m sorry we didn’t meet before, under better circumstances.”

  “Jake, please.” He shook Angel’s hand, though his gaze strayed to J.D. “I’m glad J.D. hasn’t been here alone.”