Bluegrass Peril (15 page)

Becky stepped up beside him. He didn’t look at her, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her hands clutching at each other.

“Scott, I’m so sorry.”

The woman counting out his change was taking way too long. He watched as she peeled open a new roll of pennies with agonizing precision.

“Sorry for what? For wanting a pizza?”

“No, for…” She glanced over her shoulder.

Scott followed her gaze in time to see Dennison drain his beer mug. He turned a hard look on Becky. “I hope you’re not drinking, too.”

She stiffened. “Of course I’m not.”

Finally, the cashier held his change toward him. He shoved it into his pocket without looking at it, picked up the pizza box and turned toward the door.

Dennison stepped into his path. “What’s your hurry, Lewis? Why don’t you join us for a beer?”

Excitement lit Jamie’s and Tyler’s faces. Beside him, Becky uttered a sound of protest.

Scott clamped his jaw shut against a sharp retort, but managed a stiff, “Thanks anyway.”

Dennison lifted his empty mug in farewell. “Another time, then.”

Yeah. Next time a mule wins the Derby.

Vowing to give up pizza for as long as he lived in this small town, Scott made his escape.

T
he minute Becky’s car came to a stop, the back doors flew open and the boys tumbled out. She took her time gathering her purse and her nerve, glancing through the windshield to watch them run toward Scott in the barn.

She stood in time to hear Tyler explain, “Dad’s going to pick us up in a few minutes, so we can’t help you feed the horses today. But we can throw the ball to Sam till he gets here.”

“Here it is!” Jamie raced over to the dog’s blanket, stooped and held the ball aloft.

Sam danced in a circle, which set both boys laughing. They ran off toward the grass to begin their game.

Becky stepped up to the barn’s entrance but didn’t go inside. “I stopped to get them on the way back from the vet’s office.” She held the bag of ointment toward him, proof that she’d been on an official errand. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea to let their father pick them up at school.”

Scott came toward her slowly, his eyes searching her face with an intensity that made her stomach flip-flop. “Why isn’t that a good idea?”

She gulped, and her gaze dropped to her shoes. “I’m not sure why.”

“Well, I think—”

Whatever he thought remained unsaid. Tyler’s voice interrupted. “Jamie, I’m telling! You’re not supposed to go in there!”

Becky turned to see what misdeed Jamie was performing.

Her heart skipped a beat.

There was her older son, crawling between the two bottom fence planks into Alidor’s paddock.

In the far corner, the stallion raised his head as he noticed movement inside his territory. The powerful horse stamped the ground and then headed for Jamie, trotting at first but quickly picking up speed. Pieces of grass spit up behind him where his hooves butchered the turf.

By the time Becky’s feet became unstuck Scott had already sprinted halfway across the yard. Alidor was barreling toward Jamie when Scott reached the fence and vaulted over like an Olympian. Heart pounding, Becky froze as Scott ran toward the stallion, arms waving above his head, shouting, “Whoa, there!”

Nostrils flaring, Alidor diverted his attention from the boy to the man. He stopped in front of Scott, neck extended. Scott leaped backward in time to escape the snap of the Thoroughbred’s teeth.

Jamie picked up something in the grass and ran for the fence.

When Scott danced sideways to avoid a second attempt to bite him, the horse changed his approach. He whirled around to present his backside and raised a hind leg. Scott didn’t wait around for the kick but made a dash for the fence and leaped over.

Not as gracefully the second time. His boot caught on the top plank and he went sprawling face-first in the grass.

Becky ran forward and dropped to her knees beside him. “Are you okay? Is anything broken?”

He didn’t answer. Should she call 9-1-1? She drew breath to shout at Tyler to run inside to the phone when Scott moaned and rolled over onto his back.

“That was kind of a klutzy move, wasn’t it?”

Relief flooded through her. She threw herself forward to give him a fierce hug. “That was the best move I’ve ever seen anyone make.”

Embarrassed, she straightened. Scott lay in the grass, looking up at her with an expression of pure astonishment. What must he think of her? Last night he sees her out with her ex-husband, and today she’s practically rolling in the grass with him.

She turned to find Jamie and Tyler watching. When she spoke to the older twin, her voice came out sharp. “You are in so much trouble, young man. What in the world were you doing? Don’t you know you could have been killed?”

His dark eyes went round and his lower lip quivered. “I saw this.” He held it toward her. “I thought it was a man.”

She looked at the object in Jamie’s hand. A clear glass tube with a red lid. What in the world would make the boy think that was a toy? True, the lid was bright red, and might look the color of the trim on some of his action figures. Maybe if the sun glinted off it just so.

Scott rolled over on his side and sat up with a grunt. He took the object and held it up to the sunlight.

“It’s an empty test tube. How’d that get in Alidor’s paddock?”

A test tube. She hadn’t seen one of those since high school science class. Way back then she’d done experiments, mixing chemicals, looking at specimens under a microscope.

Where had she read about microscopes lately? Seems like she’d seen something in the paper, something about…

Becky’s eyes widened. She grabbed Scott’s arm. “Do you remember that article we found in Neal’s file? The one on cloning?”

His brow creased. “Yeah, so?”

Becky jumped to her feet and ran toward the house. Inside, she flipped through the files, scanning the neatly labeled tabs until she found the one she wanted. She shuffled the papers inside. Where was…there.

When she got back outside, the article clutched in her hand, no one had moved.

“It’s right here.” She waved the clipping in Scott’s face. “It’s talking about the first successful horse cloning in the U.S., in Texas.”

He looked, but made no move to take it. “Okay. But surely you can’t think this has anything to do with Alidor.”

A car pulled into the driveway. Becky closed her eyes and dropped her head forward. Christopher’s timing was perfect.

The boys raced across the grass toward him. Becky followed more slowly as Scott got to his feet.

Chris got out of the car and leaned against the hood, his arms folded. His eyes bored into hers as she approached. “Having a little romp in the grass, are we?”

Becky looked at the boys, then gave him a stern look. “Christopher, please.”

“I just don’t like catching my wife with another man.”

Anger flared in Becky. “Ex-wife. I know exactly how you feel,” she snapped.

At least he had the decency to flush. She set her teeth together until her jaws ached as she helped the boys into the backseat and made sure their seat belts were fastened. Jamie avoided her eye, probably hoping also to avoid punishment for his stunt. She patted him on the leg and whispered, “We’ll talk later.”

Straightening, she turned to Christopher. “You will be careful, right?”

“Sure, I will.”

She dipped her head, forcing him to lock eyes with her. “No drinking. Not even one beer.”

The cocky Christopher-grin twisted his lips. He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a Boy Scout.” She stepped away from the car, her heart wrenching in her chest as he got in and slammed the door. Her babies were about to go on their first visitation with their father without her.
Lord, please, please, please keep them safe!

“Have them home by six,” she called as the car backed out of the driveway.

Christopher waved out the window, and then they were gone.

Her lower lip quivering much as Jamie’s had earlier, she turned toward the office. Scott stood by the back door, watching. “You could have gone with them if you wanted. There’s nothing pressing going on this afternoon.”

He was trying not to look at her, and that suited her fine. If he said anything nice, she might just burst into tears.

She raised her chin. “No, that’s okay. It’s good for them to be without me every now and then.”

“Well.” He cleared his throat, then gestured toward the newspaper clipping still clutched in her hand. “About that article.”

“Oh.” She held it toward him. “I read it when I filed it away. That test tube reminded me of the procedure they describe in there. It says here they take a skin cell sample from the horse, and the DNA is placed into an unfertilized egg that’s had the nucleus removed. Then they implant the egg into a fertile mare during breeding session.”

Scott’s head jerked upright, his gaze fixing on Alidor. “Skin cells? Does it say where on the animal they get them?”

“I don’t think so.” She looked up at him. “But it
is
breeding season.”

He took the article and scanned it. As he neared the end, he shook his head. “It doesn’t.” He caught her eye. “I’ve found odd nicks on the ears of a couple of the horses.”

The prickling sensation on the back of her neck had nothing to do with the light spring breeze that stirred the leaves above her. “Do you think Neal was cloning the stallions?”

Scott shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone want to clone a Thoroughbred? The Jockey Club won’t register cloned foals. They specifically address that in the regulations. Clones can’t race, and they can’t be bred, so what’s the point?”

Becky had no answer for that. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. But I have a feeling it’s true.”

But Scott kept staring at the article. “Lee Courtney needs to know about this.”

“I don’t believe it of Neal.” Sitting in an armchair, Mr. Courtney removed his reading glasses but continued to stare at the article in his hand.

Becky shifted forward on the elegant sofa cushion and crossed her ankles. They’d closed up the Pasture office an hour early after Scott called Mr. Courtney’s secretary and arranged a meeting at his house.

Beside her, Scott tapped the test tube in his palm. “I know it’s far-fetched. Nobody would be stupid enough to think they could clone a Thoroughbred.”

Mr. Courtney’s thick eyebrows rose. “Not as far-fetched as you think. Over in Europe they’ve made remarkable progress in equine cloning procedures. The Jockey Club is monitoring the situation. Used to be the clones weren’t as hardy or as healthy as the originals. I’ve heard that’s changing. Of course, up until now they’ve experimented on workhorses and pets. But it’s only a matter of time before someone tries it on a Thoroughbred.” He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “I just didn’t think about it happening here. Still the Pasture is the perfect place, isn’t it?”

Becky thought of the horses they had at the Pasture. Champions, all of them. Millionaires, Neal used to say, because most of them had amassed millions during their racing and breeding careers. “If someone’s going to clone a horse,” she said slowly, “naturally they’d try for a champion.”

Mr. Courtney nodded. “Exactly.”

“So you
do
think Haldeman might have been trying to clone the horses,” Scott said.

“Not for a minute.” Mr. Courtney’s chin jutted forward as he fixed a gaze on Scott. “Neal Haldeman had his vices, no doubt, but he loved the industry. He would never do anything to interfere with the natural process of breeding a champion. Never.”

Becky leaned forward. “If someone else was trying to collect skin cell specimens from the horses at the Pasture, and if Neal caught them…”

She left the thought unfinished, but judging by their serious expressions, both men followed her logic.

Scott shook his head. “But who would do something so risky? And why? You can’t register a clone.”

“I don’t know why. Maybe just to say they succeeded.” Mr. Courtney’s lips twisted with disgust. “I can think of only one person who would try something stupid like cloning a Thoroughbred. And he has access to the Pasture, since his property adjoins mine on the back side.”

“Nick Stevens?” Becky cast a quick glance toward Scott. Would he mention Nick’s wife, Leslie, and her affair with Neal?

Mr. Courtney nodded. “Exactly. He’s an upstart, an amateur. He has no respect for the industry, for the breed.”

Becky shifted and avoided the older man’s glance. That he didn’t like Nick, a competitor in the breeding industry, was common knowledge, but to accuse him of this crazy scheme, and maybe even of murder? She didn’t believe it.

Scott shook his head. “I still don’t understand why. What would he get out of it?”

“Who knows?” The older man stood, a signal that their meeting was over. “I think you should turn this over to the police. Let them sort it out.”

Becky got to her feet and took the newspaper clipping Mr. Courtney held out to her. “Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.”

He waved a hand. “Any time. That’s what I’m here for. And I was going to call you this afternoon anyway.” He shifted his gaze to Scott, a smile tweaking the edges of his mouth. “The board met today. They’ve authorized me to offer you the position of director of the Pasture on a permanent basis. If you want the job, it’s yours.”

Becky whirled toward Scott. “That’s wonderful news! Congratulations, Scott.”

Instead of the wide smile she expected, Scott looked as though he’d just been handed a prison sentence. He stared at the floor in front of him, lips pursed. Didn’t he want the job?

“They’ve decided I’m not disreputable after all?”

Mr. Courtney laughed and clapped him on the back. “They all know that was a misunderstanding. I explained it to them. And several of our donors have been vocal in their support of you. You’re the right man for the job.”

“I’ll have to think about it, Lee.” Scott cleared his throat. “I have another offer I’m considering as well.”

Ah. So that’s what he meant the other day when he said he might not be around much longer. Becky glanced at Mr. Courtney.

The old gentleman didn’t seem surprised. “I heard a rumor Francine Buchanan’s looking for a new manager over at her place.”

Buchanan? Her face went cold as the blood drained away. Scott was going to work for Kaci Buchanan’s mother?

“Assistant manager, actually.” Scott lifted a shoulder. “But the general manager there is a few years from retirement.”

Mr. Courtney watched him a moment, then nodded slowly. “Might be a good opportunity. But don’t forget, Zach isn’t too many years from retirement himself. I’ll be looking for someone to take over Shady Acres before long.”

Becky plucked at the hem of her sweater, feeling like an intruder in this conversation. Was it wrong to want Scott to stay at the Pasture when she, herself, was considering leaving? What did it matter that he spent time with Kaci? Becky had no claim on him.

But the thought of Scott with the tall blonde made her green with envy.

Scott flashed a quick smile at Mr. Courtney. “I’ll pray about it and let you know next week.”

He was silent as they left the house and climbed into the truck. Becky stared out the window as he pulled down the driveway, grasping for something to say. She had no right at all to offer advice about which job he took, but everything in her wanted to scream that he should turn down the Buchanan job and stay at the Pasture.