Jockeys and Jewels Read online

  He automatically stroked her hair, disentangling a stubborn blue petal, then wrapped both hands around the steering wheel. He shouldn’t be touching her like that, not when he couldn’t give her the honesty she deserved. But his hand kept drifting back to her hair, her neck, and he finally gave up and let it remain. It didn't matter. She was asleep. But tomorrow, for both their sakes, he'd be much more disciplined.

  It was dark when his headlights panned the driveway of the West’s ranch. He eased to a stop. Julie jerked upright, stared for a moment then scooted to her side of the truck, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

  “Relax. I'll get Dusty,” he said.

  He lowered the ramp and backed off her horse. She stepped from the truck, and a growling dog shot from the dark, spooking the horse.

  “It’s okay, Blue,” she said but the dog continued growling as he shouldered his way between her and Kurt. “That’s odd. He met you earlier. Usually he only growls at strangers.”

  “Guess he doesn't trust me,” Kurt said.

  He shut his mouth, but the words hung in the brittle silence. She stared at him for a second then gave her dog an approving pat. Took Dusty’s lead and walked catlike toward the pasture, seemingly unhampered by the darkness, her tiny silhouette flanked by the larger shadows of dog and horse.

  Kurt followed, closing the gate as she slipped the halter off Dusty. The sorrel trotted into the dark, ground thudding beneath his anxious hooves as he searched for his pasture mates.

  “Want a coffee for the drive back?” she asked. He guessed by the sound of her voice that she’d just stifled another yawn.

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks for everything, Julie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He wanted to add that it had been one of the best days of his life, but their camaraderie had chilled like the night. She probably would have misunderstood anyway. So he remained silent, watching until she and Blue reached the house, and the screen door slammed.

  He blew out a sigh, climbed in his truck and headed toward the city.

  His mood was pissy when he reached the track, and he circled the parking lot, scanning the vehicles with his headlights. Otto's pickup wasn't there. A shame. He would have enjoyed a late-night altercation.

  Martin had already prepared Cisco’s stall and feed, and the App dived into his food. Kurt checked Lazer and Ace then wearily unhooked the trailer. Another day with little to show. Now that Julie had sunk his shoe theory, they had nothing on Otto but a break and enter.

  Heavy with frustration and another emotion he didn’t want to analyze, he drove back to the motel. Detoured to the front desk to pick up a new room key.

  “Good evening, sir.” The night clerk sounded much too cheery. “Your room is cleaned and the lock repaired. There’s also a message from the police.”

  He passed Kurt a pink slip and a new key card. Kurt folded the message and checked his own phone as he followed the walkway to his room. An update from his racing assistant. Four calls from Archer.

  Damn, he'd completely forgotten to send his report. It was late and there was a two-hour time difference, but he pressed Archer’s number.

  Archer yawned, his voice crusty. “We haven’t heard from you in forty-eight hours, and your damn phone was off. What do you have?”

  “Not much,” Kurt said. “But I still think Otto Laing is good for it. He lied about meeting Connor. Had a temper tantrum when I claimed his horse.”

  “What horse?”

  “The horse that was on the trailer Connor followed.” Kurt locked his door and did a quick inspection of the room. Television, mirror, clock—everything was replaced. Otto’s visit was like a bad dream.

  “What do you mean? Claimed it?” Archer sounded wide awake now. “Can you do that?”

  “If it's a claiming race. The trailer was clean, so I'm checking out the animal. Owning her was the only way to get a good look…she was cheap.”

  “My idea of a cheap horse is vastly different from yours,” Archer said. “And I don’t recall giving authorization.”

  “Maybe you’ll remember once you wake up.”

  Archer cursed, but curiosity overrode his annoyance. “So what did you find?” he asked. “Drugs?”

  “Nothing yet. The vet was scheduled to run some tests today. The results will be called directly to you.”

  “What about the other one? The jockey? She was the last one to see Connor,” Archer said. “You pushing her?”

  Kurt’s chest squeezed. “She’s not involved,” he said. “She just happened to be around that night. It has to be Otto. But he’s only the muscle. Get some surveillance on him, and we might flush out his partner.”

  Archer turned silent, and Kurt paced a crooked circle.

  “We need reasonable grounds,” Archer finally said. “And the girl is still a suspect. There’s a three-hour time gap when no one saw her.”

  “She thinks of nothing but horses, lives in the country and doesn’t even like Otto,” Kurt said.

  “Even so—”

  “Get some surveillance.” Kurt paced again, eager to divert Archer. “Quick as you can.”

  “It’ll take twenty-four hours to get something in place. You know that.” The groggy murmur of Archer’s wife sounded in the background.

  “Fine, but alert the border guys. Otto spoke about another trip to Montana. We can nail him when he crosses into Canada. Tell them to tranquilize any horse he's hauling. Check mouth, ass, feet, everywhere.”

  “Okay.” Archer said. “But watch your back.”

  “Sure.” Kurt disconnected, tossing his phone on the bed. He'd been so hot for Julie, he’d forgotten that she was a suspect, at least in Archer’s mind. Another good reason to keep his distance.

  He yanked off his boots and tossed them against the wall. Tomorrow wasn’t shaping up to be a very fun day.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Streaks of red bruised the eastern ridge when Kurt rushed into the barn. Forecasting this high-altitude weather was a skill he hadn't yet mastered but it smelled like rain, and he wanted to get his horses on the track before it turned into a mud hole.

  “Good morning,” he said to Martin who was diligently scrubbing water buckets. Sandra had Okie in the aisle, making some sort of tack adjustment, but he was disappointed Julie wasn’t waiting by Lazer’s stall.

  He looked at Sandra. “How did Lazer feel yesterday?”

  “Like a train. He dragged my horse around the track, and Okie’s no featherweight. Might have to raise my ponying fee.”

  “Forget it,” Kurt said. “There shouldn’t be any charge if your horse had a free ride.”

  She laughed. “No freebies, ever. I might bet your horse though. He's feeling wicked. Did you decide on a jockey yet?”

  “Julie’s riding him.” Speculation sharpened Sandra’s face, so he turned and addressed Martin. “Did you feed all the horses?”

  “Julie’s riding Lazer!” Sandra squealed. “She must be ecstatic. Did you decide that at the bar?”

  “No.” Kurt shook his head, aware Julie would hate any innuendo that a personal relationship had landed her a horse. “It was decided after I saw her ride two good races. And after consultation with the owner.”

  “The Racing Form lists you as the owner,” Sandra said.

  Kurt’s mouth twitched. “The Form is correct.”

  Sandra grinned and started whistling, a catchy tune, but one he couldn’t identify.

  “I fed the horses and cleaned all three stalls,” Martin said, his wary gaze shooting from Kurt to Sandra and back to Kurt again.

  “Good,” Kurt said. “Run a brush over them. I’ll see if I can find Julie. We’re already running late.”

  Julie stood in the stirrups and eased her mount to a trot. Her heart slammed against her ribs when she spotted Kurt leaning against the rail, talking to the bay’s trainer.

  She headed reluctantly toward the gap, toward the familiar rumble of his voice, the voice that had whispered such intimacies yesterday. Her hands felt damp around
the reins and she was sure her cheeks were flushed, but she squared her shoulders. She’d just galloped three horses, only natural she’d look flushed.

  “He felt even, Barb,” she said to the bay's trainer. “No sign of weakness in that left front.”

  “Good. We'll put him back into light training. Can you take him out tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” Julie unbuckled her saddle and pulled it off, turning to Kurt as the trainer led the bay away.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “How you feeling?” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She waved at Harrison who was walking by and spoke quickly, trying to hide her embarrassment. “I just picked up another horse. That bay I was on…he’s coming off an injury though, so it’ll be a while before he’s ready.”

  She knew her nervousness was making her babble, but it was okay. Kurt was no longer looking at her, his attention caught by a flashy chestnut colt. “I can gallop your horses now, if you want,” she said, shifting her feet and balancing her saddle in the crook of her left arm.

  “I prefer to gallop Lazer on a freshly harrowed track,” he said. “But this will have to do since you weren’t available earlier.”

  “But I was here.” His unfair criticism stung, and her voice rose. “I dropped by your barn an hour ago. Martin said you hadn’t arrived yet.”

  “Well, I’m here now. And my horses are ready if you are.” He strode toward G barn, not even waiting for her to follow.

  Her breath drained with a whoosh, sucking all her air. What the hell? She gripped her saddle and followed, struggling to pretend this was just another routine morning, and she really didn’t have the urge to pick up a rock and drive it into his stiff back.

  Despite her exhaustion she’d lain awake much of the night, analyzing his every word. His every gesture. And though it was clear sex meant little to him, she’d assumed he’d be civil. Had assumed they would still have a professional relationship—a bit strained maybe—but at least civil.

  She hadn't prepared herself for hostility. Had imagined many scenarios but not that one.

  “Hi again, Martin,” she said, walking into the barn with forced vitality, hoping no one would see that her insides had shriveled. Kurt was already in the stall adjusting Lazer’s bridle and didn't look up.

  “I forgot to tell Kurt you were here earlier,” Martin mumbled as he helped position the saddle on Lazer's back. “You look really, um, nice today.”

  “Thanks.” She tried to smile at Martin, but her face was so tight she feared it resembled a grimace. A ball of hysteria circled her chest as she remembered the extra effort she’d taken to dress. Twenty extra minutes that could have been used for something more important. She could have filled three water troughs, cleaned two stalls. Now she’d have to do it tonight or worse, worry that her father would rush and try to do it all.

  Kurt led Lazer into the aisle, remaining silent as he legged Julie into the saddle.

  What an asshole. “What do you want done today,” she asked, struggling for an even tone as he led the prancing horse outside.

  “Twice easy. Breeze three furlongs,” he said.

  She nodded, her face hot as she stared over his wide shoulders. Only twelve hours ago, she’d hugged and kissed and stroked those shoulders. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Obviously, yesterday meant nothing. He'd wanted a willing woman, and she’d certainly been willing. Regret consumed her—a sharp searing pain that chewed a gaping hole in the middle of her chest.

  Feeling small, wounded and worthless, she pasted on a smile but was numbingly oblivious to everyone she passed.

  “Hey, Julie! Drop by my barn later,” a man called. “Got a young horse I want you to gallop.”

  She stared in the direction of the voice. A laughing, shiny-haired guy, D barn. She had a vague memory that he owned several gyms, but his name was lost in her miserable haze.

  “And tell Sandra I’ve got cold beer waiting,” he added with a grin.

  She nodded, barely registering his words. Kurt’s indifference ripped at her. The walk to the gap had never felt so long or oppressive.

  But finally they were there. Kurt silently released the eager colt and stepped back, and she guided Lazer onto the track, desperate to go anywhere as long as it was away from him. Lazer sidestepped and bucked, taking advantage of her inattention, and she knew it was critical to regain her composure.

  Obviously, Kurt regretted yesterday too. It had been rash to ride with him, but it really galled her that she’d been so keen to have sex. So keen she’d been the first to whip off her clothes.

  Lazer’s ear flicked at her miserable groan.

  “It’s okay, fellow.” She gave his neck a reassuring pat. “It’s not your fault you have a prick for a trainer.” He tossed his head as though in agreement, and his sheer exuberance made her feel better.

  She blew out a long breath, knowing she couldn’t blame it all on Kurt. “Touch me,” she’d said. And he certainly had. It was foolish to combine business with pleasure, and she’d been a fool. With minimal effort he’d persuaded her to board his mare, take him on a trail ride and top it off with a bout of sex.

  She’d done it all gleefully, a gullible apprentice eager to please. He’d probably chuckled all the way home, he and his unnaturally clever horse. But he didn’t have to be so mean afterwards.

  A tear welled, and she yanked her goggles down. At least she’d had some good sex. No doubt about it, he’d been adept. His fingers, his mouth. Who could have resisted that?

  No one, she decided. And he had put her on a very nice horse.

  A sour thought nagged her. Had he used Lazer as a lure for sex? Maybe he had no intention of letting her ride in a real race.

  No. He wasn't sneaky, she decided. A jerk, yes, but an honest jerk. She just had to accept she was insignificant to him. However, she wasn’t insignificant as a rider. He liked the way she rode, and that’s what mattered. Personal feelings couldn’t enter into it. Combining business with pleasure was fun, convenient too, until it blew up in your face.

  She exhaled a deep breath and pushed away her resentment. It wasn't her nature to wallow in self-pity. In guilt, but not pity. She was on a nice horse, doing what she loved. Really, nothing could be better.

  From his position at the rail, Kurt watched the slender figure guiding his horse. Lazer had seemed ragged at the start, but now he floated around the track—until a horse passed him and it was clear the colt's stride roughened.

  Julie settled him quickly though. She was a helluva rider, and he would've put her up on Lazer, even at Woodbine. However, the colt’s inability to stay focused was troubling. The horse had lots of potential but was too distracted by animals around him. And horses didn’t run races alone.

  He met Julie at the gap and snapped a line on Lazer. “That looked pretty good. How did he feel?”

  “Very nice,” she said, her voice cool. “He switched leads when asked, relaxed well, then put out good effort down the lane. There were a couple strides when he lost his focus, when that other horse was alongside him. Other than that, he was a real pro.”

  Kurt nodded. Her report was also pro. She seemed to have shoved aside yesterday's intimacies. Christ, he’d been so eager to see her this morning, and all she’d talked about was a new horse she’d picked up.

  And that was perfect, of course. Just what he wanted. Easier for both of them if she accepted he was a first-class prick. But the notion left him deflated.

  “So concentration is the problem,” he said. “Guess that's the trainer’s job to fix, not yours.” He scanned her face for a shade of yesterday's friendship, but she just sat there, haughty and aloof, patting his horse, and he had the perverse need to grab her attention. “If you’re happy with my horse,” he said, “quit slapping him.”

  “I’m not slapping him.” She looked at him then, mouth tight with indignation. “As you can see, I’m patting his neck.”

  “It’s a slap when it can be heard back at the
barn.”

  And that got her attention. She stared at him now, eyes wary. “So sorry, sir.” She reached down and stroked Lazer with exaggerated gentleness.

  He turned, hiding his amusement as he led them back to the barn. Her irritation was preferable to indifference, and it was some consolation he could so easily annoy her. “Are you able to gallop Ace now?” he asked.

  “Of course. You know I never refuse you anything.”

  Ouch. He wanted to hide his smile so let that comment go, but damn, he enjoyed her company. She filled his senses, made him feel alive. “We'll switch horses at the barn,” was all he said. They passed Sandra heading the other way. She waved, still whistling the catchy tune he’d heard earlier, but didn’t slow.

  They reached the barn, and he stopped Lazer in the aisle. Julie dismounted while Martin held Ace, and they switched her saddle with smooth efficiency.

  “What do you want done with Ace?” she asked as Kurt boosted her up. His hand lingered on her boot, and he yanked it off.

  “Once at a jog,” he said gruffly. “Easy gallop twice around. Work on hitting his leads. Then take him for a walk by the grandstand. We’ll school in the paddock tomorrow.”

  “Hi Jules, Kurt.”

  The cocky drawl was unmistakable. Gary Bixton. Kurt nodded but noticed Julie reacted with considerably more enthusiasm. Her dimples even showed, something he hadn’t seen all morning.

  “Hi, Gary,” she said. “Gosh. Another early morning?”

  “Look out, hotshot. I’m rustling up mounts. My business is hurting since an apprentice beat me on Saturday.” He rolled his eyes in disgust. “A girl apprentice.”

  She laughed. “I imagine trainers are dropping you like a rock.”

  Kurt’s mouth tightened. They obviously had a close relationship, just not the type he’d imagined. Poor information, poor inference. Or maybe he’d used it as an excuse to grab what he wanted. Spoiled, she’d called him.