MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance Page 6

  He just stared, his arms crossed. She thought the side of his mouth twitched but she could have imagined it. The overhead lights shadowed his profile but regrettably he was just as gorgeous as ever. However, all he did was stare.

  “Gramps had a heart attack,” she added. “I came back to help him.”

  “Sorry to hear that. But that’s not what I asked.” He sounded genuinely sorry but his big arms remained crossed and he was still looking at her hand… No, at her phone.

  She quickly tucked the offending phone back in her pocket. Obviously he was annoyed about the recording but no way was she giving it up. That might be the only thing that could salvage her grandfather’s reputation.

  “I’m here to pick up Ginger,” she said, amazed at the calmness of her voice. “Santiago was supposed to ride her. No one else. So it was decided we should take her home.”

  “Ginger is your horse?” And now he looked surprised. An odd expression crossed his face, one almost of resignation. Then his expression shuttered. He gave a polite dip of his head. “We’ll find some shipping bandages and help you load her.”

  “But, Dad!” the girl behind them said. “Ginger can’t leave. I’m supposed to look after her.”

  “This is Grace.” Alex’s entire manner softened when he turned to his daughter. “Cassie’s grandfather was my old trainer.”

  He didn’t say they’d been childhood friends or that they’d ridden together every day for ten years. She didn’t expect him to admit they had dated. But he certainly trivialized their relationship, and even though she was prepared for it, his words hurt.

  “Couldn’t Ginger stay?” Grace asked, staring at Cassie with imploring eyes. “Please, just until she’s better? I’ll take good care of her. Since it’s Mom’s fault I really should be the one to look after her.”

  Cassie’s hand flattened over the phone in her pocket. She wished she had that statement recorded on her phone. But the raw appeal in the girl’s voice yanked at her heartstrings. She spent a lot of time with children on the movie sets and horse-crazy girls were her favorite. And she knew how much it hurt to watch a horse leave. “Well—”

  “No,” Alex said, his voice clipped. “It’s best if Ginger goes home now. Tonight.”

  Cassie slowly closed her mouth. Clearly he didn’t want her around. Or Ginger. Which was fine because she didn’t want her grandfather’s horse here either. And she shouldn’t have let herself be softened by empathy for his daughter.

  “Grab some shipping bandages,” Alex said to Grace, gesturing toward the tack room.

  “Thanks,” Cassie said, her voice just as clipped. “But bandages aren’t necessary. I had a flat so I’m leading Ginger home.”

  Grace tilted her head in confusion then placed a protective hand on Ginger’s neck. “But how far away do you live? I didn’t know there were other stables on our road. And I think Ginger is too tired to walk.”

  “We’re not on your road,” Cassie said, appreciating the girl’s concern for the mare. “But it’s not so far if I cut across the back fields. She’ll be fine.”

  “It’s dark though,” Grace said. “And strange people live there. That’s why Mom never rides in the south field. It’s not a nice place.”

  “It’s okay.” A flush warmed Cassie’s face and she didn’t look at Alex. “I know the area well.”

  She unclipped Ginger from the cross ties and attached her lead line, outwardly poised but intent on keeping her hand from shaking. Alex really had changed. She’d told herself that maybe he hadn’t seen her at the polo game—and clearly he hadn’t known that Ginger belonged to Gramps—but there was no question, he definitely wanted them both gone. Tonight. The old Alex would have worried about her walking off in the dark. This new Alex was silent, just watching her with hooded eyes.

  “But isn’t it dangerous to lead a horse alone at night?” Grace persisted.

  “Not if I’m careful,” Cassie said.

  “But, Dad!” Grace wheeled toward her father. “Didn’t you always say it was more dangerous at night? Especially if a horse is alone?”

  “Yes,” Alex said, his voice resigned. “So we’ll walk across the field and give them some company.”

  Cassie’s chest flared with panic. She did not want to walk across their old playground with Alex and his daughter. “That’s not necessary,” she said.

  “But I think it is,” Alex said. And he gave her that regal Sutherland look, a look perfected over centuries by a family accustomed to looking out for the welfare of their animals, their servants, their boardrooms…and their neighbors. She knew from experience it was useless to argue. But it was just as apparent he was walking her home, not out of affection but because of a deep-rooted chivalry, and also his desire to appease Grace.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Stars dotted the sky and a fat white moon illuminated the open fields. Cassie squeezed Ginger’s lead rope tighter against her palm, keeping the mare beside her at a measured walk. It was easy enough to see and the rolling ground was devoid of holes. But her legs felt awkward and it was hard to concentrate on Grace’s tentative questions. She was far too aware of Alex’s imposing figure, striding tall and silent on the other side of his daughter.

  Cassie nodded again, fighting to keep her words from sounding stilted. “Yes, I used to live around here. My grandfather gave your dad some riding lessons.”

  “Did you play polo too?” Grace asked.

  “A little,” Cassie said. “Not as well as your parents though.”

  “But Dad doesn’t play polo. Only Mom.”

  She couldn’t help it. Her head jerked sideways. Alex had barely spoken since they left the barn, since he’d insisted on walking her home. Moonlight reflected on his face. He was staring straight ahead, not smiling but not frowning either.

  This was totally weird. He had all those polo ponies in the barn—and he didn’t play?

  “Well,” she said slowly, “he used to be a good player, the best in this area.”

  “Santiago is the best now,” Grace said. “Mom says Dad can’t even remember how to swing a mallet.”

  The idea was so ludicrous Cassie almost laughed. Alex was a superb athlete, rarely missing a shot. He certainly remembered how to swing a mallet. Yet Grace was almost snickering at his skill. Obviously she’d never seen him play. Why had he given up a sport he loved? Polo was the one thing he’d shared with his dad. That and making money were the only two things that had ever earned his father’s approval.

  Alex had practiced long hours in order to make the Sutherland team. He even helped Cassie with barn chores so she’d have more time to hit balls with him. Most nights he didn’t leave Gramps’ house until after dark, and he was always quizzing her grandfather about horse psychology, keen to learn why some animals were natural polo ponies while others preferred a different line of work.

  “Hitting balls isn’t the only thing to do with a horse,” Alex said, as if reading her mind. “Cassie works with them in the movie industry.”

  She glanced sideways again, surprised he even knew where she worked. She hadn’t kept in touch with old acquaintances and her grandfather said he hadn’t spoken to Alex in years. Alex wasn’t looking at her though. He was smiling down at Grace, his expression so tender it was obvious he doted on his daughter. And something tightened in Cassie’s chest.

  “The movies?” Grace gave an excited skip and turned toward Cassie. “Really? So you work with horses on the ground? You don’t have to ride?”

  “Not usually,” Cassie said, clearing her throat. “But I’m just an assistant, more of a wrangler. My boss is the head trainer.”

  “What sort of things does he teach them?”

  “Whatever the movie needs. Roll over, play dead or even to jump through fire. Once he had a movie about a famous racehorse and needed to teach a Thoroughbred to leap into a swimming pool.”

  “Sweet.” Grace’s eyes glowed. “I’d love to do something like that.”

  Her enthusiasm was so genui
ne Cassie’s mouth lifted in a smile. A wrangler’s job was hard work and definitely not prestigious. Grace didn’t seem to realize she’d never need a job like that. Not with the Sutherland money.

  “When Cassie was your age,” Alex said, “she trained her grandfather’s horses to stand in the brook so we could jump off their backs.”

  Cassie’s smile deepened. She remembered every animal she’d ever trained. Unfortunately it seemed that whenever she finally had a horse willing to stand still while they climbed over its slippery back, her grandfather sold the horse. It had been so upsetting. Alex had always taken her home and cheered her up by letting her leap off his Olympic-sized diving board.

  “Jumping in a brook sounds like fun,” Grace said, bouncing with delight.

  “It was,” Alex said. His voice shifted and she felt his appraisal. Luckily it was night and she was busy leading Ginger and had an excuse to avoid his eyes. She never could hide her feelings from him, and his gaze seemed even more perceptive now.

  “Can you teach me how to train a horse to stand in a brook?” Grace asked.

  “No!” Both she and Alex spoke at the same time, their voices raised in shared horror. She understood her panic although his quick protest was surprising. And hurtful.

  “Cassie is just home to see her grandfather,” Alex went on, his voice level again. “She doesn’t have much time.”

  Perhaps she’d mistaken the horror in his voice. And she definitely didn’t plan on spending any more time with Grace, no matter that Alex’s daughter was so likeable. Clearly they both agreed on that.

  “I’m here to help my grandfather sell his horses,” she said lightly. “And everything is really rushed right now.”

  “I understand.” Grace’s tone was polite but her obvious disappointment left Cassie feeling torn.

  “The most important thing,” she said, smiling down at Grace, “is to start with a patient horse. One who doesn’t mind being away from his friends. And it helps if they have a long mane and a broad back.”

  Grace gave an enthusiastic nod. “I’ll remember that. And would it help if I hung a feedbag over the horse’s nose, so he can eat at the same time?”

  “No. That would be dangerous. Water might get in the bag and the horse could drown. And you don’t want to be trying this with your parents’ polo ponies.” She gripped Ginger’s lead line a little tighter. No doubt, Alex and Rachel wouldn’t want their fancy horses standing in a brook all day.

  “Yes.” Grace’s voice dulled. “All our polo ponies have shaved manes. And I wouldn’t be able to do it anyway. I’m not good at anything except grooming and bandaging.”

  Cassie stiffened. What a horrible way to feel. And she didn’t understand why this girl didn’t own a quiet pony, something to build up her confidence. She looked over Grace’s head at Alex, and once again he seemed to pick up on her thoughts. He gave his head a little shake and for a moment the powerful Alex Sutherland looked almost helpless.

  “You sure did a good job with Ginger’s cuts today,” Cassie said, keeping her voice bright.

  “I made the ointment myself,” Grace said. “It works really well. I can come over and put some on Ginger tomorrow if you’d like.” Moonlight revealed the hopeful expression on her upturned face. “Since you’re busy with your grandfather and might want help?”

  “No, Grace,” Alex said, his voice gentle but firm. He turned to Cassie. “There’s a boggy section just ahead. Pass me your phone and I’ll check the ground.”

  Cassie halted Ginger and gave him her phone. They were entering the back section of the south field. The grass looked level and she couldn’t remember this area ever being soft but she’d been away a long time. Another few minutes and she and Ginger would be home.

  Home. She blew out a disbelieving sigh. It was wonderful to be back, even if the polo game hadn’t gone according to plan. And it hadn’t been so awful walking with Alex and Grace. Obviously he didn’t want her seeing his daughter again, but they were in agreement on that. And it was rather comforting he’d insisted on walking her home. A nice note for their final good-bye.

  Ginger pawed at the ground, her ears pinned on the tree-lined path. Clearly she knew they were close and was impatient to return to her barn. And Cassie didn’t need the light on her phone. There was plenty of moonlight.

  “I can see perfectly,” she said, holding out her hand for her phone. “We can walk alone the rest of the way. Thanks for the company. It was nice to see you again, and it was great to meet Grace.”

  Alex still hadn’t managed to turn on her light. He was fumbling with her phone. … No, not fumbling. His deft fingers flew over the screen.

  She jerked back, feeling like she’d been sucker punched. Now she realized why he’d insisted on walking her home. It wasn’t because of their old friendship at all, or even to satisfy Grace. He’d just wanted a chance to delete the recording. Protecting his wife by erasing Grace’s comment that Ginger hadn’t been bloody before the game.

  “Are you quite finished?” she asked, hating the hurt in her voice that she couldn’t hide. And that she still used her birth date as the password.

  “Now I am,” he said, passing over the phone. “Please give your grandfather my regards.”

  And even though he’d successfully removed all evidence against Rachel, his voice wasn’t triumphant. In fact, he sounded regretful.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Feet shuffled in the kitchen. Cassie shoved aside the sheets and scrambled out of bed. If she didn’t hurry, Gramps would feed the horses, and he wouldn’t stop with tossing hay and grain. How much did a water bucket weigh anyway? More than he should lift, that was for sure. And then she’d agonize all day, worrying that the exertion might cause another heart attack.

  She yanked on a T-shirt and jeans and bolted down the narrow hall.

  “Morning, Gramps,” she called, catching him just as he was reaching in the closet.

  Boots thumped back on the floor and he shot her a sheepish look. “Thought I’d help feed this morning,” he said. “And check on Ginger. How did the trailering go last night? Did you see Santiago or that woman?”

  That woman.

  Cassie shook her head, hoping she could avoid mentioning the flat tire. She was supposed to keep Gramps calm, not worry him with trivial details. From the front of the house, he couldn’t see that the truck and trailer weren’t parked in their usual spot. Maybe she’d find a spare tire kicking around in the shed and be able to haul the trailer back before he even noticed.

  He was too proud to knowingly accept her money, and he’d only get defensive if she mentioned his tires needed replacing. It was best not to say anything and simply buy new ones without him knowing.

  “No one was at the Sutherland barn except for Alex and his daughter.” She pulled out a kitchen chair, encouraging her grandfather to sit. “They were taking good care of Ginger… Alex asked me to say hello.”

  “Do they have many horses over there? Is their barn full?”

  “All forty stalls,” she said, marginally relaxing. Gramps was too interested in horses to quiz her about tires, or people. He wasn’t going to ask any tough questions about the Sutherlands either. Like if Grace looked like Alex, or if Alex was happy…or if Cassie still loved him.

  “Their barn is full of good-looking polo ponies,” she said. “Even more than when Alex’s dad was alive. And Ginger wasn’t outside. She was in a big stall at the office end of the barn.”

  Cassie walked over to the sink, picked up a washcloth and began scrubbing at the spotless counter.

  “Alex didn’t see us at the polo game,” she went on. “He mentioned that he and Grace left early. I don’t think he even knew Ginger was your horse.” She didn’t know why she was babbling. Or why she felt compelled to defend Alex.

  “But of course Alex didn’t know,” Gramps said, his voice matter-of-fact. “Or he wouldn’t have let it happen.”

  She tossed the cloth aside with a sense of relief. Her grandfather preferred
horses to humans, but he did understand people. If he still held a high opinion of Alex, then clearly Alex hadn’t changed that much. And she wasn’t going to upset Gramps by telling him about Grace’s recording—the one that had vindicated him—the one Alex had deleted. After all, it was understandable a man would want to help his wife. Especially a protective man like Alex.

  She pulled open the cupboard door and rummaged for the coffee. It wasn’t healthy to dwell on Alex and Rachel. She just appreciated being home, being able to eat breakfast with Gramps and talk about old horses, and people, and of course, polo.

  “I wonder why Alex doesn’t play polo anymore,” she mused, keeping her back to Gramps. “Especially since his wife still plays. Maybe they’re not totally happy…?”

  “He stopped playing polo before his daughter was born,” Gramps said. “And of course he’s not happy. That’s why they’re divorced.”

  Her hand froze around the coffee container and she felt the blood draining from her face. It was a relief Gramps couldn’t see her expression. “How long have they been divorced?” she managed, her eyes fixed on the cupboard.

  “Not sure. Rumors started back when he sold that Thoroughbred stallion of his. Wish I could have bred a mare to that stud. He was a beauty. Alex thought a lot of him. So did his father, and the Sutherlands know their horses—”

  “How many years, Gramps?”

  “Don’t know. Six or seven, I guess.”

  She wrapped both hands around the coffee tin, trying to stop their shaking. This was worse. Alex had been divorced all that time and hadn’t even bothered to let her know. Hadn’t cared enough to reach out. While she’d thought about him often, convinced they would have had a future together if it hadn’t been for Rachel’s untimely pregnancy.

  She remembered his quick rejection the night before when Grace had asked about training lessons. Even now he didn’t want to rekindle relations, even as a friend. Her breathing sounded loud, drowning out the sound of the ticking kitchen clock.