Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash Page 9

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Not bad at all.”

  But she squeezed his arm with her left hand, her grip tightening as he worked the ring over her damaged skin. Round and round he tugged, seemed an endless number of times until finally it passed over her knuckle. He checked her pinched face in the mirror, but her eyes remained tightly closed and for that he was grateful.

  “Got it,” he finally said, his voice husky. “I’m going to turn this water off now. We’ll wrap your hand and go to the hospital.”

  The door opened and the receptionist tiptoed in, gauze in both hands as she craned to see Jenna’s injuries. “I couldn’t find a first aid kit but here’s some sterile horse wrap.”

  Damn incompetent Wally. Burke’s mouth tightened. “Well, that gives you something to do today.”

  The receptionist stared, her round face blank with confusion.

  “Order some first aid kits,” he snapped.

  Jenna squeezed his wrist, forcing a wan smile. “Thanks for bringing the gauze, Frances. That was smart of you…to check the horse supplies.”

  Real genius, Burke thought. But Jenna was shivering and for her sake, he tempered his sarcasm. “Thank you, Francis. Go and call the hospital. Tell them we’re coming.”

  He ripped open a gauze sheet and wrapped the burn, noting Jenna’s eyes, the wide irises stark against the vivid blue. Scooped her up and carried her from the bathroom.

  “I can walk,” she said. But her voice was reedy and she didn’t protest again, silent even as he deposited her in the passenger seat and clipped her belt.

  The hospital was nineteen miles away on a hilly country road. He made it in fifteen minutes, relieved it was next to the Hunt Club, one of the few landmarks he knew.

  He gently lifted Jenna and rushed into the lobby, stopping in front of a nurse brandishing a clipboard. “She needs to see a doctor,” he said. “Which way?”

  “Sorry, sir. She has to go through triage first.” Her eyes flickered to a swinging door with the word ‘Emergency’ in red letters.

  Ignoring her protest, he barged through the restricted doors with a silent Jenna cradled in his arms.

  “Is that the burn patient?” A doctor with a long face and grave eyes stepped forward. He pulled back a green curtain. “Just put her on the bed here and I’ll take a look.” He gently removed the gauze. “Cold water treatment?”

  “Fifteen minutes,” Burke said.

  “Good. We’ll be about an hour. You can wait outside or leave your number with the desk.” The doctor gestured at a bald orderly, and Jenna and the bed were rolled away, seemingly in competent hands.

  “Sir?” The nurse with the clipboard had followed him, quivering with disapproval. “We have some paperwork that needs completing. It should have been done first.”

  “Just call the receptionist at Three Brooks. It was a work injury.” He pressed a business card into her hand. “And give me a call when she’s ready to be picked up. I gotta go.”

  He stalked outside, desperate to escape the cloying smells, the strained faces, the way Jenna had looked, helpless and alone on that rolling white bed. Damn, he needed a strong coffee.

  He wiped the back of his sweaty neck, feeling oddly unbalanced and desperate to regroup. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said it was a work injury. That would create more paperwork, maybe impact the Center when the town’s good will was critical.

  He walked up the walkway to the Hunt Club’s wooden door where a tasteful brass sign proclaimed: Members & Guests Only. Three Brooks, of course, had a charter membership, and it was apparent from Wally’s expense statements that the man frequented the place. Burke suspected Wally also used it as a meeting place to stir up the townsfolk.

  The hay man yesterday wouldn’t even meet Burke’s eyes when asked to justify the abrupt price jump, but the gold Hunt Club decal on his windshield revealed plenty. Fortunately the type of people that frequented ostentatious places like this were usually swayed by power and money. And Burke had both.

  A willowy brunette with dark eyes and a white smile rushed forward. “Glad to see you again. Will you be joining Mr. Winfield’s breakfast meeting?”

  “No, just a coffee and I’d like a window table.” Burke guessed Leo Winfield would spot him soon enough. On the two previous occasions Burke had visited the club, Leo had made it clear any owner of Three Brooks was welcome in the town clique, despite Wally’s negative politicking.

  But it was best to make Leo come to him. And Burke definitely didn’t want to be dragged into any ritual breakfast meetings, no matter how big an honor it was considered. He settled at the gleaming table and pulled out his phone.

  A plate of smoked salmon and some sort of waffle wraps were placed in front of him, and he hid his irritation. What part of ‘just a coffee’ had been unclear?

  He pressed Edward’s number and stared out the window, glad it overlooked a pristine garden rather than the ugly hospital. He didn’t want to think of Jenna and her scalded arm. Jesus Christ.

  “Hello, Derek.” Edward sounded preoccupied when he finally answered. “What’s up? You finish evaluating those companies?”

  “Not yet, and I’d like to shove back that Derby horse’s visit.”

  “Why? Thought the Center was ready to go?”

  “Just lost my only masseuse, for a few weeks at least.”

  “So, hire another. They must be a dime a dozen. Don’t all girls learn a little massage on the side?”

  A coffee magically appeared, and Burke swallowed his annoyance along with a gulp of delicious black coffee. “I’ve never seen a girl get results like she does,” he said mildly. “It’s weird, almost a cross between massage and chiro.”

  “Damn, I want her.”

  “Too bad. She’s mine.” Burke glanced over his shoulder, somewhat surprised Leo Winfield hadn’t accosted him yet. He’d deliberately picked a visible table and didn’t want to hang around here all morning.

  “Fine for you,” Edward said. “When you want a woman, you just give her that look and she takes off her clothes. Some of us have to work much harder.”

  Burke sipped his coffee, already bored and only half listening. Leo rushed across the floor with his tweed jacket, silk hunt tie and fawning smile. Perfect. Burke cut off Edward’s rant about women; his cousin was on his third wife and understandably bitter. “I’ll finish up my portion of the evaluations by the weekend,” he said. “But find out if the Ridgeman horse can be postponed. It’s better to wait.”

  “Can’t you find another masseuse?” Edward asked. “We worked hard for that contact. They’re desperate to get their big boy covering mares again. Stud fee is a hundred thousand bucks. Imagine how many bookings they’ll lose if word leaks the stud’s a dud?”

  Burke crunched some quick calculations and blew out a sigh. “All right. I’ll hire some more staff.” He cut the connection and nodded at Leo, trying not to stiffen as the man touched him on the shoulder with a too-familiar hand.

  “Glad to see you back, Derek,” Leo said. “We come here every morning, talk about the town’s problems, hash over business. More deals are made in this club than in my office.”

  “Good to know,” Burke said. “Because I’m looking for a new hay supplier.”

  “Oh? Wally’s friend can’t help? He grows the best horse hay around.”

  “Apparently he doesn’t grow it for me.” Burke watched Leo’s face, noting the lack of surprise, the complacency in the man’s grey eyes. Leo already knew. “Luckily I have your support,” Burke added smoothly. “You did say you more or less ran this town?”

  “Yes, but unofficially, of course.” Leo pursed his lips in thought. “I might be able to put in a good word. However, folks around here are a mite standoffish. They haven’t seen much of you. Might be a good idea if you attended some community functions. Let everyone know you’re not an ogre.”

  Burke raised an eyebrow.

  “Not that you’re an ogre, of course, but they know and respect Wally. He didn’t lay off a
nyone in ten years. Helps the town in a lot of ways. Even sponsors the local steeplechase. Since you pulled the Center’s support for that, the entire valley is crushed.”

  “I don’t recall pulling any specific sponsorships.” Burke took a thoughtful sip of coffee remembering he had slapped a moratorium on all unnecessary spending.

  “A lot of folks are also disappointed they can’t take their animals to Jenna Murphy,” Leo continued. “But I guess having the clinic off limits isn’t a big problem since she’ll see them on weekends.”

  “Jenna treats horses on weekends?”

  “Sure. Her mother did the same. Horses, hounds, whatever. Everyone loves her.” Leo gave a suggestive leer. “Damn good looking woman. Fine ass but no smarts on the business end.”

  Burke leaned back, crossing his arms and scowling.

  Leo gave a nervous cough. “Of course, not everyone can make money, not like us. That’s what I’m talking about here, business minds. And I’ll take care of your hay situation. Heard you hired a local construction company. At least that’s beneficial for industry.” Leo was almost babbling now. “My daughter said the new building was almost finished.”

  Burke glanced at his watch. Soon be time to pick up Jenna. Maybe he wouldn’t wait for a call from the hospital. Leo showed no inclination to quit talking, and they’d already discussed everything on Burke’s agenda. Leo’s support—if he really had it—along with a little more community work might be enough to nullify Wally’s backstabbing.

  “Who’s your daughter?” Burke asked absently, draining his cup.

  “Kathryn,” Leo said. “Remember? I said she was coming by. Dropped off her resume last week. Has a degree from the new facility in Kentucky.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Burke nodded, remembering the girl. Exactly what he needed right now, especially if she were Leo’s daughter. “Impressive credentials,” he added. “I’ve actually been planning to give her a call. We’d love to have Kathryn join our staff. I’d like her to start on Monday.”

  Leo grinned and pumped Burke’s hand. “Well, that’s excellent. Exactly the kind of support this town recognizes.” He beamed and gestured for more coffee.

  Burke rose quickly and initialed the bill. “I have to go. See you at the next community event. Appreciate your help with the hay.” He left Leo puffing out his chest and strode from the club, more than satisfied with events.

  Always leave the other guys believing they had negotiated the better deal. And let them feel their support was essential. Leo might sort out the Center’s hay glitch, and in the process Burke would find out how much influence the man really had.

  Having Leo’s daughter on staff should cement the man’s support. Besides Jenna needed some time off, and this new masseuse would fill that gap nicely. A public relations appearance at the next community function should smooth out any remaining bumps.

  Wally was digging himself a very deep hole.

  Burke shoved open the hospital door and approached the desk, still thinking of Wally, still frowning. “Is Jenna Murphy ready yet?” he asked.

  The nurse’s face darkened with disapproval. She shot a pointed glance at the score of people crammed in the waiting room. Leo’s ogre comment flashed in Burke’s mind, and he forced a smile.

  “I know you’re very busy,” he added, “and I appreciate your work with Jenna’s file. Can you tell me if she’s ready…” He scanned the nurse’s nametag. “Anna?”

  “Well, um,” Anna straightened, clutching the clipboard against her chest and a red stain crept up her neck. “I…I’ll certainly check for you.”

  “That would be great. Appreciate it.” He gave another polite smile, and she rushed off in her thick-soled white shoes

  He pulled out his phone and checked his messages. Smiled triumphantly at the email from the hay man confirming a contract frozen at last year’s prices.

  Fast work, indeed. Leo obviously had plenty of clout and hiring his daughter had been an excellent move, a small price to pay for stability.

  The nurse rushed back, her face still flushed. “She’ll be right out. They’re finding a wheelchair.”

  “A wheelchair?” Burke frowned. “Are you sure you have the right girl? Mine had a hand injury.”

  “It’s the pain medication, sir.”

  “I see.” He stiffened as an orderly opened the swinging doors, pushing an ancient wheelchair. Jenna’s head lolled to the side and her eyelids drooped. A bulky white bandage covered her right arm, hand to elbow.

  He strode toward Jenna and the long-faced doctor who’d materialized by her side. “She’s okay, right?” Burke asked, appalled at her drowsiness. “Maybe it’s best if she stays the night?”

  The doctor shook his head and held up a fistful of papers. “Everything’s fine. Prescription for pain pills. Start in four hours. Also directions for some hand exercises and basic info on burns.

  “It’s important to keep the skin from tightening,” he went on, “although she shouldn’t apply much pressure. Damage was reduced because of the cold-water application. However, there’s still a risk of scarring. Some good creams are on the market. If she’s careful, especially the first week, there should be no residual damage.”

  Burke gulped, pocketing the material and bending toward Jenna. “Hey, Jenna. Feeling better?”

  She opened her eyes, tried to focus, but her lids almost immediately shut again.

  “She’s had some morphine,” the doctor said with a slight smile. “Be sure to give her a couple pain pills in four hours. She’ll be hurting then, but for now she’s not feeling a thing.”

  Burke nodded then rushed out and moved his car to the front entrance. He swooped around to open the passenger door while the attendant bumped the wheelchair to the curb. “Easy,” he snapped, reaching past the bald man to ease Jenna from the chair.

  “Just putting you in the car, Jenna,” Burke said, but she seemed oblivious to her surroundings. He tilted the passenger seat so her head wouldn’t loll, slid into the car and headed south.

  Her eyes remained closed the entire trip.

  He turned into her driveway, pausing to stare in consternation at her trailer. Damn. He had no key. It wouldn’t be hard to kick in the flimsy door although he doubted she’d be pleased. Probably she had a key in her purse but that was back at the Center.

  No, he paused, remembering she hadn’t been carrying anything as she sauntered from the parking lot. Those hips and arms had been swinging—exactly what had caused this mishap in the first place. When she was by the Center’s door, she’d only been holding the tea.

  She must have stuck the keys in her pocket.

  He leaned over, sliding his hand over her left leg, feeling for a bulge. Nothing. He ran his hand over her other leg and around her hip, patting her pockets.

  “I can’t believe you’re trying to feel me up.” Her voice was so weak he could barely hear. “Asshole.”

  He jerked back, bumping his elbow on the steering wheel. “No. I’m just looking for your house keys.” But her eyes had already closed. Perfect. Now all she’d remember was that he’d groped her. Which he hadn’t, not all—not even close.

  He hadn’t noticed the firmness of her ass, the curve of her hip, her enticing smell. Hadn’t made one single move, not even over the last few days when it had been increasingly hard to keep his hands in his pockets.

  He reached over and shook her shoulder. No reaction. Wiggled her head, her left arm. Still indignant, he lightly slapped her cheek.

  “What the hell…stop bothering me, Burke.” Her words jumbled, like she had gum in her mouth, but at least she was awake, her eyes a frosty blue.

  “Jenna, I was not feeling you up. I’m trying to find your keys.”

  “Not locked,” she muttered. Her lids slipped shut again.

  “Your door’s not locked?” He jerked from the car and stalked up the steps. Pushed open the screen door and turned the knob. Shook his head as the inner door swung open. Probably nothing to steal, but from a se
curity standpoint an unlocked door was rather foolish.

  He returned to the car and unclipped her belt. Didn’t try to wake her, just swung her in his arms, still feeling aggrieved. Goddammit, he hadn’t been feeling her up.

  He tramped down the narrow hallway, over the uneven floor, looking for a bedroom. The first one was frilly and pink, with a lingering hint of cheap perfume, and the girl in the picture had garish makeup. Definitely the little sister. He backed out, careful to keep Jenna’s bandaged arm from hitting the wall.

  There were only two other rooms: a tiny bathroom with a green shower curtain and a smaller bedroom with a blue bedspread and the smell of fresh flowers. He laid her on the bed, stepped back and folded his arms. There. All done. Finished.

  He could get back to work now. Had already lost half of a day. But maybe he should cover her up first, although she probably wouldn’t be comfortable if it turned too hot. Forecast was for sunny, seventy-five degrees. No air conditioning in this ancient trailer so it probably boiled in the afternoon.

  He tilted his head, oddly uncertain. Maybe it would be best to cover her with one sheet. She only wore jeans and a T-shirt, and her shirt had drifted up, exposing her flat belly. The sight of that smooth skin made him scowl. Short T-shirts would have to be banned at the Center. He could see the hint of her navel, enough to make any man ogle. No wonder Terry had been serving her tea, probably hoping to soften her up. Ask her out.

  He edged closer. Looked like there was a hint of blue on her hip too. Some sort of tiny tattoo, but it was half covered by her jeans. What the hell was it? A butterfly maybe? He stepped around the bed but the different angle didn’t help. Maybe it was a butterfly. Could be anything really but suddenly it was important to know.

  She shivered, rolled to her side and her bandaged arm knocked the headboard. At her shocked gasp of pain, he leaped forward. “Lie on your back, Jenna. Keep your arm still.” Her eyes were wide open now and she gulped but nodded. He pulled the sheet up and tucked it tightly around her, watching her face.