Double Take (9 page)

“Mommy woke me up this morning! She helped me with my bath!” Marni exclaimed excitedly. “Look! She picked out the pink ribbon in my hair!”

“Aren’t you the lucky one?” Trev murmured.

Elizabeth slammed a pot down on the stove. Kait finally swallowed the lump of now-tasteless dough. It hurt so, his hating her, especially when she considered herself a kind and considerate person—especially as he didn’t even know her.

Then Trev glanced up at her.

Kait flinched but held his stare.

A small smile twisted his mouth. “I’m taking her to school.” Kait gasped—and so did Marni. “No, Daddy! Mommy’s taking me! You never take me—you school the horses in the morning with Jim!” she wailed.

“Honey, today I am taking you to school.” From his tone, there would clearly be no argument, no debate. Or at least, not from Kait. She got up silently and carried her plate to the sink, where she slid several untouched pancakes into the disposal. Her appetite was gone.

“I want Mommy to take me to school,” Marni said firmly.

Kait turned. Marni had an expression of sheer determination written all over her face, and she could see that a huge clash of wills was imminent, because her father had the exact same expression.

Before Trev could speak, Kait hurried between them. “Listen, sweetie. I’ll pick you up! Being as your father wants to take you,” she added. She didn’t turn but she could feel Trev’s astonishment.

Marni blinked. “Really?”

Kait nodded.

“Okay.” Marni attacked her pancakes with gusto.

Trev turned.

Kait tried to smile, lost her nerve, and said, “Gotta use the bathroom.” She fled.

The house felt empty with Marni and Trev gone. Kait hurried outside, aware that Elizabeth remained in the kitchen, tidying up after breakfast. She inhaled, still shaken by the brief but completely hostile encounter with Trev, and then had no choice but to fully appreciate the beautiful fall day. There was a soft breeze whispering through the gold and red leaves of the trees overhead, big fluffy clouds were drifting lazily through the sky, and a horse was whickering from one of the paddocks.

If Trev Coleman hated her now, how would he feel after Lana returned and they told him the truth?

Kait shuddered. Her confidence was low now. And her determination to fight for the family’s future—for Lana and Trev’s future—for her own future—remained. But she was afraid the outcome might not be the one she planned on.

She dug her cell phone out of the pocket of the leather jacket she was wearing and turned it on. There was no voice mail icon on the screen. Lana had not called her back.

She was not really surprised. In fact, she now believed that Lana did not even have her cell phone with her. And if she had made it through yesterday—and last night—she could make it through one more day. Kait refused to recall his touch and the feeling of his hard aroused body against hers.

Lana would come home late tonight or tomorrow morning.

Her heart lurched, as if with dread. Suddenly she wished to delay her sister’s return, in spite of being followed last night. She put the cell back in her pocket and walked slowly down to the first barn, where she had been yesterday. She told herself that the sooner Lana returned, the better—for the sooner they ended this charade, the better their chances of finding a reconciliation with Trev. And as intimidating as Trev Coleman could be, she would not turn tail and run. She had made the promise to herself and she would keep it. In fact, she would dwell on a rosy future, a future where everyone was happy and she was living a few miles away and just down the road. A future where she often came over to visit and see Marni.

Doubt warred with hope.

Kait walked over to the nearest stall, where a handsome, brilliantly chestnut horse was staring through the bars. He had no markings, and his coat gleamed like satin. “Hey, boy,” she murmured, frowning now. Who was she fooling, exactly?

Not only didn’t she think the odds very good of Coleman ever liking her, Kait London, not after the switch; last night she had been insanely attracted to him. Would she ever forget what it had been like to be even briefly in his arms?

Did she really want to see him back with her sister?

The question was a terrible one. Kait didn’t dare consider it. She had her—and Lana’s—future mapped out. It did not include any sexual attraction or any other feelings whatsoever on her part for Trev Coleman—other than purely platonic ones. She realized she had a huge headache, undoubtedly her just desserts.

“Ain’t he grand?” Jim’s voice startled her, referring to the chestnut.

“Sure is,” Kait said.

“He’s coming along, since you left. Should have a good season in Ocala.”

Kait nodded, and as she glanced around, she saw a handsome blood bay with a star. He snorted gently at her. The nameplate below read pride of rhodos, lana coleman. Her heart lurched.

“You look better today. Not so tense,” Jim remarked.

She inhaled, walking over to the bay as if a somnambulist. He blew softly at her; she stroked his velvet muzzle. “I’m still weak,” she murmured. What she wouldn’t give to ride this horse. And what if she did?

Jim knew she was ill. Better yet, they didn’t have to school. She could just go out for a simple little hack. She whirled. “Jim? I think I’ll hack him a bit. I’ve been out of the saddle too long.”

Jim grinned. “That’s my girl. I been longeing him while you were gone, so he’s not too full of himself.”

“Great!” Kait cried, somehow hugging him impulsively. Excitement was thundering in her veins, but she did manage to catch his surprise. “Be right back,” she declared, and she dashed from the barn at a run.

He laughed. “Slow down! Pride ain’t leavin’ without you!”

As she hurriedly pulled on breeches, a turtleneck, and microfiber vest, anticipation of riding the gorgeous horse chased away some of her doubt and fear. Besides, dwelling on her worries wouldn’t help anything, and she did have work to do and not a lot of time to do it— surely she could defuse Trev’s utter hostility, not to mention that of Elizabeth, Sam, and Zara. And then there was Marni, whom she would pick up at one-thirty. Maybe they’d go to a movie, or to a toy store. But first she would ride across the beautiful countryside on one of the most handsome horses she had seen in years.

Kait tossed Lana’s cell phone in the garbage.

Twenty minutes later she was back in the stable, somewhat stunned to find Pride completely groomed and tacked and ready to go. “I would have tacked him up,” she muttered, instantly going to his head, taking the reins and stroking his strong neck, her helmet in her other hand.

Jim gave her a look, but he was whistling. “You never bother,” he said.

She should have known. Unable to wait, Kait led him outside and to the mounting block. The moment she settled in the saddle, she felt as if everything would turn out just fine.

And the saddle fit her perfectly, being as she and Lana were the exact same height and close to the same size. “See ya, Jim.” She grinned.

“Enjoy yourself,” he called, turning away.

Kait left the barns at a walk, heading out into the open fields, quickly fusing with the horse’s rhythm. She chatted with him as birds winged overhead, just to soothe him and herself. But he was quiet, although eager to take off. Finally she patted his neck. “Let’s try a trot, fella.”

He obeyed, and she worked a little to hold him back and keep him collected. His stride was huge but fluid, and she felt herself grinning with pleasure. Ahead, she saw a small log lying across the trail.

She shouldn’t, but why not?

She nudged him into a canter and a moment later they soared effortlessly over the log.

Kait laughed out loud, slowing back to a trot, patting his neck with encouragement.

Then she saw a split rail up ahead. Clearly fences were scattered about for cross-country riders like herself.

She hesitated, because it was about three feet tall, and she was out of shape. Then she urged him forward. Ears pricked, he cantered to the jump and over it as effortlessly as if it were a tiny pole an inch or two off the ground.

“My, you are something!” Kait settled down to ride now, and at a canter they took half a dozen fences. Kait was pleased. Her balance was good, and for someone who did not know her mount, she was pretty much in sync with him. On the other hand, Pride was clearly a great athlete, and he was easy to ride.

A big chicken coop was ahead, painted red. It was triangular in shape, and about half a foot higher than the previous fences. Kait gathered Pride under her as they approached, silently counting off the distance.

Four.

Three.

Two.

She was about to breathe “one” when a shot rang out.

Pride bolted sharply left, around the fence, and Kait heard some-thing—a bullet?—whistling past her ear. Kait lost her balance, and a moment later she was flying through the air, over the horse’s head and the edge of the fence.

She landed hard on her back, her head snapped back, and for an instant, there was haze and shadow. Then she blinked, breathing hard, realizing she had taken a spill and she had hit her head.

Then the world stopped.

There had been a gunshot.

Someone had fired a gun.

It was hard to breathe.
Someone had tried to shoot her
. Terror overcame her. It was almost impossible to think. But disconnected words like “Lana” and “Corelli” and “the killing kind” echoed in her mind. Slowly, beginning to pant, she rolled onto her side and crept over to the bottom of the coop. From the corner of her eye she saw Pride, a few yards away, gazing at her.

She didn’t move. Someone had just fired a gun.
She had heard the bullet whiz by her cheek.

Which meant one thing.

Someone had taken a shot at her.

Someone wanted Lana dead.

Sweat trickled into her eyes, blinding her.

Kait scrambled the few inches between her and the very bottom of the wedge-shaped jump. She pressed her face into her arms, still on her belly, her heart pounding so hard now that her body was shaking.

Someone had lied to Lana. They hadn’t given her a week to pay off her debt—they were collecting now—with her life.

She didn’t know what to do. She was afraid to get up. She was afraid that if she stood up someone would shoot her, and this time fail to miss.

She choked once on a sob.

Kait told herself that unraveling now would not help. She
had
to think.

Lana had never mentioned that Kait would be in danger if she took her place. Kait assumed that Lana had believed that any danger lay in the future, if she did not deliver the cash. Could a hunter possibly have been so careless as to shoot at her and her horse?

Kait wanted to believe that. She also knew that the people after Lana would rather have their money than her corpse. She couldn’t relax.

How the hell was she going to get out of there?

Kait quickly shifted up into a sitting position, her back against the jump, hugging her knees to her chest. Would Pride come if she whistled? Should she attempt to mount the seventeen-hand gelding from the ground and then gallop away?

Whom was she fooling! She could never get on the horse without a leg up or a mounting block. And now, her sweat was interfering with her vision as it tricked down from her forehead and temples into her eyes.

Pride snorted.

Kait stiffened, as the sound had been uneasy. She froze, straining to hear.

A twig snapped.

Not near the gelding, but to her right, in the direction of the woods—where the shot had come from.

She heard brush rustling.

Kait was on her knees; she crawled through the dirt and grass to the other edge of the coop. She dared to peer around it.

She saw nothing except an expanse of silvery birch with an occasional oak tree, the sun streaming through the golden glade. But her vision was limited now.

Pride snorted again. She heard him paw the ground.

“Easy, easy,” she said, low and rough. On her belly, she shimmied forward a foot and paused. The woods shimmered and danced before her in the sunlight, orange and red and gold. Kait’s gaze swept through the glade. And then it paused, her entire body stiffening. She reversed the sweep of her eyes, going back the way she had come. A shadow. She paused. She stared, straining to distinguish the shapes in the woods. The shadow was darker, greenish, unmoving. It was attached to a heavy oak tree.

Comprehension seared her then.

It was the silhouette of a man.

Someone as motionless as she.

Someone camouflaged.

Standing there, waiting for her to get up.

Kait wiggled rapidly back behind the jump. A branch snapped loudly from the woods, so loud that at first Kait was certain it was another gunshot. Pride snorted and took off.

But it
hadn’t
been that man firing a gun. It had been a branch breaking off. Still on her belly, Kait scrambled to the opposite side of the coop, to see Pride disappearing at a gallop in the direction of home. Despair seized her.

Another twig snapped, but softly, and it sounded damn close.

Kait crouched. She dared to peek over the top of the jump this time.

As her vision tore back and forth across the woods, she could not find the silhouette of the man she had seen a moment ago.

He was gone.

That is, he had
moved
.

Kait leapt up and began to run, waiting for the sound of a gun to ring out. But no gunshot sounded as she raced desperately across the short distance between the coop and the next fence, a split rail. There, she slammed into a post, breathing hard. And still no one shot at her; a bullet did not slam into her back as she had expected.

Was it possible?

Had he gone?

But if so, why?

Had the shot been a warning?

What if it had been a threat?
Just the way that being followed the night before may have been a threat? Kait relaxed very slightly, and using her hand to shade her eyes, she scanned the countryside. Her run had taken her into the center of the open pastures, farther from the woods. It felt like a miracle, but as far as she could see, she was alone.

She slumped against the split-rail fence and removed her riding helmet. She was aware now of a throbbing pain in her head. Automatically, she touched her scalp, wincing. A lump had formed there.

She turned to look all around again. She was definitely alone.

What was going on? Determination suddenly filled her. It was time for answers, it was time to go to the police. If only she could reach Lana. But Kait had given up on that. The question was, could she hang on for a few more hours or until the following morning, depending on when Lana returned?

Was Lana’s life in danger? Was Kait’s?

Kait didn’t want to suddenly think about a fact of her life while she was growing up. But she, Kait, had always been the sincere and honest one. She had never been able to dissemble or lie.

Lana had always been able to exaggerate the truth, or omit it, to suit her needs. She had, once or twice, been caught in an outright lie. On those occasions, Lana had always been in a jam. Her ability to dissemble had extricated her from some serious trouble, even once when she had been caught shoplifting with a boy. But that had been years ago.

Kait stiffened. What if Corelli hadn’t lied to her sister about giving her a week to pay off her debt? What if Lana had lied to Kait?

It was simply impossible that her sister would knowingly put her in danger. Wasn’t it?

Kait didn’t know what to believe. She still couldn’t understand why Lana hadn’t gone to the police. And she still couldn’t imagine who might be in Lana’s past who would now come forward and hand over a large sum of money to pay off her debt. Something was wrong with the entire situation.

Kait tucked her helmet under her arm and began the long walk home.

Five minutes later a horse and rider appeared on the far side of the rolling fields. Kait paused, somehow knowing who it was. The rider had pulled his mount up too, and even though he was a good distance away, Kait knew the moment he had spotted her. An instant later he was moving his mount into a hand gallop, and then horse and rider were flying over a four-foot stone wall. A moment later Trev Coleman was pulling up his big bay gelding right in front of her. He was a superb equestrian.

His eyes locked with hers. “Are you all right?”

By now, her head was really hurting. She started to nod, and to her horror, felt like bursting into tears. She fought the unwelcome urge.

“Yeah.”

He leapt down from the bay, his eyes never leaving her. “Pride appeared back at the barn. You took a fall?” He was very calm and matter-of-fact. His gaze had swept over every inch of her, and as she was covered with grass and dirt, not to mention horseless, the answer had to be obvious.

She felt like rushing into his arms. She wanted to tell him everything. Instead, she swallowed and clutched her helmet as if it was a life vest and she was in the deepest of seas. How much of the truth could she reveal? Lana was in trouble—and Trev should know about it. “Any hunters around here?”

His eyes widened. “This is private property.”

That almost answered that. She hesitated.

“What the hell happened? How the hell did you fall off your horse?” Trev demanded.

She had to tell him.
“Someone shot at me. We were about to take the coop. Pride went one way—I went another.”

For one moment, he seemed simply astonished. Then, “No one shot at you.”

“Trev!” She began to shake all over again, when she had thought she had recovered her composure. “It was a gunshot. And I felt the bullet whiz past my cheek!” And she looked him right in the eye.

He was very still. His expression was impossible to read. Then, “Are you certain it was a gunshot—and not something else?” he asked so quietly that she felt like kicking him.

“Yes!” Tears filled her eyes.

He touched her shoulder, clasping it. “Take it easy. You’re okay.” She looked up at him, almost swooning with gratitude. “I’m scared.” And she wanted to blurt out to him that it was undoubtedly some loan shark named Corelli. But she couldn’t—she had made her sister a promise, and she had only a few more hours to hold to it.

“Lana, I don’t believe someone shot at you. Why would anyone do that?”

Kait pressed her lips firmly together, instead of answering him. “You may not be Miss Popularity in this county, but no one wants you dead.” He wasn’t smiling, though. He was grim. “Or at least not badly enough to do something like really shoot at you.”

“That was unkind,” she said tersely.

He gave her a thoughtful look. “You have more enemies than a bus full of cops. You make enemies the way bees make honey.”

Kait was taken aback. “That’s not true!”

He shook his head, exasperated. “If you want to deny the fact that every woman and half the men in this county hate you, so be it. Have you ever heard a gun being fired?”

Why would all the women in the county hate her? And half the men? Kait was afraid to know what he meant. “On TV. In the movies.”

“See? It wasn’t a gunshot, Lana.”

She grabbed his arm. “It was a gunshot!” A wave of dizziness swept her, but she ignored it. “Someone fired a gun. And I saw a man lurking in the woods afterwards! Then he was gone.”

His jaw flexed. “Hunting season starts in two weeks. I’m calling the police when we get back.”

She met his green gaze. “Is that what you think? That someone decided to look for game on your property—and somehow fired at me?”

“If a shot was fired, there is no doubt in my mind that is what happened,” he said firmly. Suddenly he handed her the reins. “Put on your helmet, Lana,” he said very softly.

She stiffened.

“And get on Scandal.”

She didn’t move, because she couldn’t. All she could think about was being astride Pride as they moved closer and closer to the jump— and the bullet screaming past her face.

He didn’t move either. His eyes were steel.

There was an old saying every rider knew—if you fall off, you get right back on, otherwise, you might never get on again. It was even more important if the fall had occurred while jumping.

“You’re a damn good rider. That fence is nothing for you, and less than that for Scandal.”

She nodded, trying to compose herself and failing miserably. Worse, she was really feeling shaky now. She put on her helmet, wincing as she did so, and as she fastened the strap, she looked at him. He nodded, his smile slight and meant to be encouraging.

It crossed her numb mind that he didn’t hate Lana after all. Even more dispirited, Kait looped the reins over the bay’s head, while her pulse pounded with increasing anxiety. She knew she had to find calm, because one could not ride a fence while consumed with stress and fear. Trev moved behind her, undoubtedly to give her a leg up.

Instantly, she became aware of him as a man, a husband, a lover, and a friend.

She closed her eyes, gripping the pommel. Is that how she saw him? As a complete partner? But he wasn’t her partner, and he never would be. He still cared for his wife. Why else would he have raced from Fox Hollow to find her when Pride had returned without his rider? Why else would he be making her jump again? If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t care if she ever got on a horse another time.

Still, he was standing an inch or two behind her. It would be so easy to turn and melt into his arms. Not for sex, but for comfort, safety, love.

How could this be happening?

She opened her eyes and not turning even once, lifted her leg as he boosted her up.

“Take some deep breaths,” he said as she dared to look down at him. “Long and slow.” He shortened her stirrup for her, all business now.

Kait obeyed, while he moved to the other side to shorten her other stirrup and then check the girth. Finishing with the girth he glanced up, their eyes meeting.

Her worry must have showed. He clasped her knee. “You’ve jumped this fence a hundred times. You can do it with your eyes closed, and so can Scandal.”

Kait nodded, thinking, he’d die if he knew she’d only jumped it once—not even, considering she had fallen off. It crossed her dazed mind that this was the perfect time to come clean.

He said, “Canter a small circle, keep him collected, and let him pick the distance. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty. Okay?” He slapped her thigh. “Sit tight and deep,” he added, a warning. “Stay behind the movement. You know what to do.” He nodded at her, stepping away.

“Piece of cake,” she rasped. His gaze shot to hers, reflecting worry, and she looked away. She gathered up the reins, filled with tension. The horse beneath her shook his head, clearly anticipating action. Or was he aware of the fact that she was frightened and worried and an unfamiliar rider? Breathe, she told herself. They circled easily, slowly, the bay’s ears pricked and forward. Kait tried to relax, but it was impossible, even with the graceful horse beneath her. The jump loomed ahead as they approached.

She tensed.

And Trev must have seen. “Relax. Deepen your seat. Sit
up,
” he snapped.

They were four strides away. Kait obeyed. The horse beneath her was a beautiful mover—as comfortable as a rocking chair. Thank God for that. She could do this. She had to. Trev Coleman was watching.

They were two strides away.

The bullet had whizzed past her cheek.

Kait forced the thought away.

“Grab his mane,” Trev said harshly.

Scandal was soaring into the air. Kait had a hunk of mane. They landed and Kait was thrown a bit forward and knew she’d botched it, but at least she hadn’t chickened out, and at least they had gone over— not around—the damned coop.

She pulled the bay into a trot, turning him, and with a flush she halted before Trev.

He was staring in a way she now recognized—his eyes said, What the hell is going on? But he quickly smiled. “Good girl. You got the job done. That’s what counts.”