say that if it had been you and me, and I’d walked in on you cozied up with another guy, he’d be dead and you’d be sorry. Does that help any?”
She closed her eyes, scrubbed both hands over her face. “How did I get into all of this?”
“My guess is you’ve had a rough morning. Where’ve you been?”
“I went to see my father.” She wanted to cry again, ridiculously, and turned away until she had the tears fought back. “I wanted to tell him, face-to-face, that I was giving up my apartment and staying on here. At least for now.”
“So, he gave you a hard time.”
“No, not really. Not him. He’s the kindest man in the world. I’m hurting him.” She let the tears come now. The hell with them. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to make him unhappy, but I just can’t bend enough, not enough to make it all right for everyone.”
He didn’t say anything, but simply rose and gathered her close. He never battled words against tears. It was best to let them flow until they ran clean.
“This is stupid.” Sniffling, she searched her pocket for a tissue, then took the bandanna Gabe offered. “This whole thing started over a stupid dance, the Derby, and the dentist.”
“Why don’t we sit down again and you can decode that for me?”
“It’s tradition,” she said, and plopped down on the bench again. “And living up to family expectations. I’m not going to claim that my childhood was fraught with peril, but there’s always been the Byden name to live up to, especially where my grandmother’s concerned.”
She balled the bandanna in her hand, wished she could ball her anger and resentments with it and heave it away. “She’s still miffed at me for divorcing Wade, putting that blot on the family honor. Needless to say, she’s furious about my being here.” Struggling to lighten her own mood, she forced a smile. “I have been, in the best gothic tradition, cut out of her will.”
“Well . . .” He picked up her hand and toyed with her fingers. “You can always move in with me. Be a kept woman. That ought to show her.”
“Christ, I’d have my name expunged from the family Bible for that.”
When he realized he’d been only half joking, he released her hand. “Can’t have that, can we? So, what about the dance, the Derby, and the dentist?”
“Sounds like the title of a very bad play.” Trying to relax, she lifted her hair off her neck and shoulders, then let it fall again. “When I went to see Dad, I had the bonus of Grandmother and Candace, my stepmother, eating cucumber sandwiches and planning the floral arrangements for the spring ball at the country club. Which they fully expected me to attend. They’d even arranged for my escort, since I’ve refused to date since I walked out on Wade. They’d—”
“Hold it.” He held up a hand. “For my personal interest, run that last part by me again. About not dating.”
“I haven’t gone out with anyone in two years. Partly because until the divorce was final, it felt wrong, and partly, mostly because I didn’t want to. Sex has never been a driving force in my life.”
He picked up her hand again, kissed it. “We can fix that.”
“I’m trying to explain.” She tugged on her hand, found it firmly caught in his, and gave up. “The dentist, an oral surgeon, is the son of friends who’s recently relocated to D.C. He meets all the Byden standards. You, by the way, don’t.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Let’s go back to my place and celebrate.”
“You’re making me feel better. I wasn’t ready to feel better.” Smiling, she laid her head against his shoulder. “Anyway, I had to tell them not only that I wasn’t interested in Doctor Acceptable, but that I wouldn’t make it to the spring ball at all. It’s the first Saturday in May.”
“The Derby. Now all the pieces fall into place.”
“Yes, the Derby. That started a row, a fairly civilized one initially, but Grandmother was getting under my skin. So”—she gazed slyly at him from under her lashes—“I told her I was involved with a gambler, just to piss her off.”
“You’ve got a nasty streak.” He caught her face in his hand and kissed her hard before she could decide to evade or not. “I like it.”
“They didn’t. Grandmother stormed out, my father looked devastated, and Candace was so angry. We’ve butted heads before, but this time she aimed low. And she hit the mark. The longer I stay here, the more it disturbs the family. And since I’m too rigid to bend, I won’t look for a compromise.”
“Sometimes there isn’t any compromise.”
“Nice people find them.”
A delicate situation, he thought, studying the young geraniums in the patio pots. A family situation, and he had very little experience with family.
“Did it ever occur to you that your family isn’t looking for a compromise either?” He watched as she turned her face slowly to his. “All or nothing. Isn’t that basically how they’ve put it?”
“I . . . hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“No, because you’re so cold, you’re so rigid, you’re so hard that you’ve automatically taken all the blame for it. They can toss out the guilt, threaten to disinherit you, tell you how selfish you are, but it’s all your fault?”
To her knowledge no one had ever taken her side against the family. Certainly not Wade. It had always been she who’d caused the scenes, ruffled the feathers. Strange that it had never passed through her mind that their side of issues was as unyielding as her own.
“I’m doing what I want, regardless—”
“Regardless of what?” he demanded. Perhaps he’d never had a family to shelter him, but neither had he had one to lock him in with guilt and obligation. “Regardless of the fact that some people have to make adjustments? If you trotted off to your dance with the designated dentist, would it make any difference?”
“No,” she said after a long moment. “It would just postpone the next scene.”
“Are you staying here to spite them?”
“Of course not.” Insulted, she snapped her head back. “Of course not,” she said again, this time more subdued. “This must seem awfully foolish to you. All of this chaos over propriety and tradition.”
“I just figure you’ve beaten yourself up long enough over who you are and what you want. Feeling better?”
“Much.” She let out a big, cleansing sigh. “I’m glad you were still around, Slater.”
“I wanted to see you again before I left.” His fingers slid over the nape of her neck, teasing out chills. “You’re screwing up my schedule, Kelsey.”
“Oh?” She kept her eyes on the hands she’d folded in her lap.
“I’m starting to think about you before my eyes are open in the morning. I figure there are three times when a man’s most vulnerable. When he’s drunk, when he’s lost himself in sex, and at that instant right before he wakes up. I don’t drink and I haven’t had any interest in sex with another woman since I saw you. But you’ve caught me in that one instant when the defenses are down.”
She’d had men recite poetry to her who hadn’t stirred her so deeply. Emotionally, romantically, sexually. She’d lifted her gaze to his as he’d spoken, drawn by that soft, alluring voice. Now she was caught. Now she was defenseless.
“I’m afraid of you.” She’d had no idea she’d felt it, much less that she’d been about to say it.
“Good, that makes us even.”
He framed her face, slowly combing her hair back with his fingers, drawing out the moment so that they would both remember. Birdsong, spring flowers, the slant of the afternoon sun. Then the jolt of mouth against mouth, the quick leap of a heart, the long, slow moan of mutual pleasure.
“What happens inside me when I do that scares the hell out of me.” He rested his brow against hers while the new and almost familiar emotions worked through him. “The fact that as soon as I’ve done it I want to do it again scares me even more.”
“Me too. It’s probably best you’re going away for a
few days. There’s so much to think about.”
“I’ve about finished thinking, Kelsey.”
She nearly had her breath back and nodded. “Me too.” With some regret she eased away. “Good luck at Keeneland, and thanks for the shoulder. I needed it. I guess I needed you.”
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
NAOMI DIDN’T QUESTION KELSEY’S DECISION TO ACCOMPANY THE TEAM to Kentucky. She’d wanted her there, badly, but hadn’t allowed herself to take it for granted. Naomi no longer took anything for granted.
The only disagreement between them occurred when Kelsey insisted on paying her own expenses. Naomi simmered over it privately during the packing and preparations, throughout the flight, and while they’d checked into their hotel. It wasn’t until she’d asked Kelsey to join her in her suite that the simmering boiled over.
“This is absurd.” Agitated, Naomi paced, ignoring the light meal and bottle of wine she’d ordered up to help keep the discussion amiable. “You’re here with Three Willows Farm. You’ll be helping Boggs with Pride. It’s a simple business expense.”
“I’m here,” Kelsey corrected, “because I want to be here, because I wouldn’t miss the Bluegrass Stakes or the Derby for anything in the world. And I’m extra baggage as far as Pride’s concerned. Moses and his team don’t need me.”
“I do,” Naomi shot back before she could stop herself. “Do you know what it means to me to have you here? To have you want to be here? To know after all this time and all the loss that you’ll be standing with me, not just at post time, but through all the wonderful foolishness that goes on before that final two minutes? I’d rather have you here from now until the first Saturday in May than win a dozen Derbies. And you won’t even let me settle your hotel bill.”
More than a little taken aback, Kelsey stared as her mother stalked around the room. She’d never seen Naomi so overwrought, so brimful of emotion. Finally, here was the woman who had laughed for her wedding photo, who had flirted recklessly with men. Who had killed one.
“It just didn’t seem right to me,” Kelsey began, but stopped the moment Naomi whirled on her.
“Why isn’t it right? Because I wasn’t the conventional mother? Because I was in a cell when I should have been teaching you to tie your shoes?”
“That’s not what I—”
“I don’t expect you to forgive that,” Naomi snapped back. “I don’t expect you to forget it. You’re not required to love me, or even to think of me as your mother. But I thought you were beginning to think of Three Willows as your home.”
And how, Kelsey wondered, had she started this whirlwind by simply using her own charge card? “I do,” she said carefully, ready to parry the next explosion. “That doesn’t mean I want to take advantage of it, or you.”
But the explosion didn’t come. Naomi sat, deliberately fighting back her anger. “If you don’t want to accept the trip from me, I’d like you to accept it from Three Willows. Your association there might very well have cost you at least part of your inheritance. I regret that.”
“So, this is a payment on guilt? All right.” Kelsey threw up her hands when Naomi’s eyes went to smoke. “This is silly. I didn’t realize you were so worked up over it. Pay the bill if it’s important to you.” She tossed back her hair. “You know, I’ve always wondered where my temper came from. Dad is placid as a lake. And you, you’re so cool, so controlled, so in charge. It’s worth losing a fight to have seen that I come by my temperament honestly.”
“I’m glad I could solve one of life’s little mysteries for you.” After a jerky shrug, Naomi plucked a strawberry from the fruit plate she’d ordered. “Win or lose, a fight makes me hungry. Want to eat?”
“Yeah.” Kelsey chose a slice of apple. “I want to tell you something,” she began in a tone that had Naomi’s hand pausing as she poured wine. “I do think of you as my mother. I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t.”
Naomi leaned forward and kissed Kelsey’s cheek; then, steadying her hand, she filled their glasses.
“To the women of Three Willows.” She tapped her glass against Kelsey’s. “I’ve waited a long time to drink to that.”
The days before the Bluegrass Stakes passed in a blur. Kelsey met more people than she could ever remember. She rose each morning at dawn to watch the workouts, worrying, comparing Pride to every other colt and filly who soared through the mist. She haunted the shedrow, studying jockeys, judging trainers, and badgering Boggs for tidbits of news or speculation.
Whenever she could corner him, she harassed Reno, prodding him for his thoughts, grilling him over strategy. She worried over him, over the colt, over the track.
“Hey,” he asked her, “who’s going to ride that colt, you or me?”
She pouted a bit, rocking back on her heels as the two of them spent a private moment with Pride. “You are. But—”
“But you’d rather have your hands on the reins.”
The pout turned into a small smile. “Maybe.” She stroked Pride’s nose, enjoying its warmth, its softness. “I guess I’ve got the fever.”
“You’re burning up with it.” Reno hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his navy silk suit. He had a woman waiting for him, and a great deal on his mind.
“That’s part of it, isn’t it? The nerves, the ambition.” She took the apple she’d been saving and held it out to Pride. “The love.”
“It gets to you,” Reno agreed. It would be of no use telling her that sooner or later other things would interfere with the innocence of it. The numbers, the angles, the odds. She’d find out for herself, he thought, and gave her a friendly pat on the back. “You keep our boy happy, kiddo. And remind him about that Kentucky colt. Keep him on edge.”
With a wink, Reno sauntered out of the barn.
“You don’t have to worry about that flash in the pan,” Kelsey assured Pride. “He can’t compare to you.”
Pride crunched his apple, obviously in complete agreement.
Midnight Hour, a Kentucky-bred colt, was the local favorite. He’d been the surprise winner of the Florida Derby, outdistancing both Pride and Double by a neck. The small, easily spooked roan was getting a lot of national press.
And Kelsey had to admit, this one was a beauty. The classic lines, the unpredictable disposition, the fire in the eyes. The colt used a shadow roll on the track, to prevent him from shying at shadows and things that weren’t there. But he could run. She’d seen that for herself.
Bill Cunningham’s filly had her supporters as well. One didn’t have to admire the man to admire his horse. Sheba had heart and courage and could break through the gate like a tornado. But the sound of her wheezing after a hard workout chilled Kelsey’s blood.
There were others who showed heart and grit, not the least of which was Gabe’s Double. But Kelsey’s money was on Pride. She told herself it wasn’t simply loyalty, not even simply love, but the eye she was beginning to develop under Moses’s careful tutelage. The colt was one in a million. As she was sure her own Honor was.
The day of the Stakes, she stood beside her mother, eager to have her confidence justified.
“He looked so good this morning.”
Kelsey took long, deep breaths. She wanted to enjoy the post parade, the pageantry, the anticipation. But she couldn’t stop talking.
“Moses said he had Reno hold him back a little, because he wanted to keep him on edge. The field’s hard and fast, just the way he likes it. I heard some of the clockers. The sentiment’s riding with Midnight Hour, but the cool heads are split almost even between Pride and Double.” She rubbed a hand over her mouth. “Still, Sudden Force might be the missing link. That’s the chestnut colt in from Arkansas. He looked ready this morning. And we can’t count out Cunningham’s filly. She’s got such heart.”
Amused and impressed, Naomi ran a soothing hand up and down Kelsey’s arm. “Just take a deep breath. It’ll all be over in a few minutes.”
“I just have time to wish my two favorite ladi
es good luck.” Gabe slipped between them, kissed them both. “Looks like we’re both seven to five,” he commented, studying the odds board. “What do you say the winner buys dinner?”
“And the loser springs for the champagne.” Naomi gave him a quick grin. “I’ve always preferred to have a man buy my drinks.”
“Good one,” Kelsey murmured. Then, rather than taking a breath, she held it. The horses were being led to the gate.
From the shelter of the stands, Rich watched his son. The boy had always had taste in females. And the devil’s own luck with them. Just like his old man, Rich thought, and patted the derriere of the tipsy little blonde he’d picked up the night before.
“Keep your eye on number three,” he told her. “I’ve got me an interest in that horse. A real close interest.”
The bell sounded. The horses surged forward and the woman beside him squealed and began to cheer boozily for number three.
Rich narrowed eyes shielded behind mirrored lenses. The local