Irish Hearts (27 page)

"I won't be running any races, Mr. Durnam," she told him, but she smiled, judging him harmless.

"From Ireland, are you?"

"She's Adelia Grant's cousin." Burke spoke mildly, giving Durnam a straight look until he released Erin's hand.

"Well, ain't that something? I tell you, ma'am, any friend of the Grants is a friend of Charlie Durnam's. Fine people."

"Thank you, Mr. Durnam."

"I'm going to go check on my horse, Charlie. See you around."

"Take a look at Charlie's Pride while you're at it," he called after them. "That's a real piece of horseflesh."

"What a funny man," Erin murmured.

"That funny man has one of the best stables in the country and a roving eye."

She glanced back over her shoulder and chuckled. "His eye can rove all it pleases. I can't imagine he has much luck on a landing."

"You'd be surprised the kind of luck ten or fifteen million can buy." Burke nodded to a groom. "I'm running against him today."

"Is that so?" Erin tossed her hair back and was sure the sun had never shone brighter. "Then you'll just have to beat him, won't you?"

With a grin, Burke put his arm around her shoulders again. "I intend to." He walked by a few stalls. Erin cautiously kept on the far side of him. The smell of horse and hay was familiar, and so was the little knot in her stomach. Ignore it, she told herself, stepping up beside Burke as he stopped at a stall.

"This is Double Bluff."

She judged the dark bay to be about fifteen hands, broad at the chest and streamlined for speed. The beauty of him struck her first; then she froze when he tossed his head. "He's a big one." Her throat had gone bone-dry, but she forced herself to take one step closer.

"Ready to win?" With a laugh, Burke reached up to stroke his nose. The colt's ears came forward in acknowledgment, but he continued to prance. "Impatient. This one hates to wait. He's an arrogant devil, and I think he might just win Three Aces its first Triple Crown. What do you think of him?

"He's lovely." Erin had taken a step backward the first time the colt had looked in her direction. "I'm sure he'll do you proud."

"Let's have a closer look, make sure the groom's done his job." Burke opened the stall door and stepped in. Erin steeled herself, and with her heart pounding walked to the opening. "You look good, fella." Burke ran his hands over the colt's flank, then dipped under him to check the other side. He lifted each hoof, then nodded in approval. "Clean as a whistle. Wait until they put a saddle on him. The minute they do, he's ready. You have to hold him back from the starting gate."

As if he understood, Double Bluff pawed the ground. He tossed up his head and whinnied as Burke laughed. Erin fainted dead away.

When she surfaced, there was an arm supporting her. Something cool and wet was being urged through her lips. She swallowed reflexively, then opened her eyes. "What happened?"

"You tell me." Burke's voice was rough, but the hand that stroked her cheek was gentle.

"Probably too much sun." Erin heard the drawled pronouncement and shifted her gaze beyond Burke's shoulder. She saw a young face and a thatch of sandy hair.

"That's right," she said, grabbing the excuse. "I'm fine now."

"Just sit still." Burke held her down as she tried to get up. "It's okay, Bobby, I'll handle it from here."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Logan. You take it easy now, miss, stay in the shade."

"Thank you. Oh-" Erin closed her eyes and cursed herself for seven kinds of a fool. "I'm sorry I caused a scene. I don't know what could have happened."

"You were fine one minute and in a heap the next." And nothing, absolutely nothing in his life, had ever scared him so badly. "You're still pale. Why don't we take Bobby's advice and get you up and into some shade?"

"Aye." She let out a breath of relief. Just as Burke started to help her up, Double Bluff stuck his head out again and shook the stall door. With a muffled cry, Erin threw her arms around Burke's neck and clung.

It took him only a moment to put one and one together. "For God's sake, Erin, why didn't you tell me you were afraid of horses?"

"I'm not."

"Nitwit," he muttered, hauling her unceremoniously into his arms.

"Don't carry me. I've had enough humiliation already."

"Shut up." When he judged they were far enough away from the stables, he set her down under a palm. "If you'd had the brains to tell me, you wouldn't have shaved ten years off my life." With another oath, he dropped down beside her. His heart had yet to resume its normal rhythm.

"The last thing I'm wanting from you is a lecture." She would have stood and stormed away, but she knew her legs weren't ready to carry her. "Besides, there was nothing to tell. I thought I was over it."

"You thought wrong." Then, because she was still pale, he relented and took her hand. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

"It's childish."

"Tell me anyway."

"We had some field horses, two good ones." She let out a long breath. He could hardly think her any more of a fool then he did now. "We had them out, and a storm was coming up. Brian unhooked the one to take him back to the barn. There was a lot of thunder and lightning, so the horses were nervous. Joe was unhooking the second, and I was at the head trying to calm him. I don't know, it happened fast, lightning spooked him and he reared. God, those hooves are big when they're over your head." She shuddered once. "I fell, and he ran right over me."

"Oh, God." Burke tightened his fingers on her hand.

"I was lucky, it wasn't that bad. A couple of broken ribs only, bruises, but I've just never been able to get too close to one without panicking."

"If you'd told me I never would have brought you."

"I thought I'd beaten it by now. It was more than five years ago. Stupid." She ran a hand over her face, then tucked back her hair. "I've been making excuses all week to Dee and Travis why I don't go down to the stables."

"Why don't you just tell them?" When she only shrugged, he shifted closer. "It's not half as stupid to be afraid as it is to be ashamed of it."

Her chin came up; then she sighed. "Maybe." Avoiding his eyes, she plucked a blade of grass. "Don't tell them."

"More secrets?" Patiently he caught her chin in his hand and turned her face to his. It was far more difficult to resist her now when her cheeks were pale, her eyes a little damp and the vulnerability like a sheen on her skin. "You shouldn't worry so much about what people think of you. I know you wash dishes and faint at the sight of horses, but I still like you."

"Do you?" A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. "Really?"

"Well enough." Unaccustomed to resisting any desire for long, he lowered his mouth to hers, to taste, to nibble, to explore. She lifted a hand to his chest as if to hold him off, but then her fingers simply curled into his shirt and held him there.

His other kisses hadn't made her feel peaceful or secure. Anything but. Yet this one was different. Even as excitement shimmered warm in her stomach, she felt safe. Maybe it was the way his hand curved around her neck, with his fingers gentle and soothing. Or maybe it was the way his lips made hers feel soft and tingly.

He wanted to draw her close, to cuddle her, to rock her on his lap and murmur foolish things. He'd never had that urge with a woman before. It was an odd and uneasy sensation, and at the same time- comforting.

He drew away slightly, but kept her close. "I'll take you home."

"Home? But I want to see the races." For some reason she felt as though she could face anything at that moment. "I'm fine, I promise you. Besides, maybe if I can learn to watch them from a distance I won't freeze up when I'm near one." She stood, grateful that her legs were sturdy again. "Come now, Burke, we didn't fly all the way to-where are we?"

"Florida," he told her, and rose.

"Aye, Florida to turn right around and go home again. That great beast in there is going to win, isn't he?"

"I've got my money on him."

"And I've got ten more on the nose."

With a laugh, he accepted the hand she held out. "Let's go get a seat."

The stands were already filling up. In them, Erin indeed saw many faces, tanned and sunburned ones, faces with lines spreading out from the eyes and more with skin as smooth as new cream. Some people pored over racing forms, others smoked fat cigars or sipped from plastic cups.

But in the boxes was elegance, the kind that spoke of confidence and poise. Sheer summer dresses in pastels mixed well with light cotton suits and straw hats. She saw more than one tanned, slender woman tilt a head in Burke's direction. Now and then he lifted a hand, but he made no effort to mix with them.

From Burke's box in the front, she could see the wide brown oval where the horses would ran and the lush green infield filled with tropical flowers and pink flamingos. Still farther away were more stands with more people. Every minute, more were filing in.

"I've never seen so many people in one place at one time. And they're all here to watch the race."

"Want a beer?"

Erin nodded absently and continued to take in everything as Burke left her. She spotted Durnam not far away, talking to a woman in the tiniest pair of shorts Erin had ever seen. Erin passed over him and looked at the electronic board that was beginning to flash with numbers and odds for the first race.

"I want you to explain to me what it all means up there," Erin began before Burke had a chance to sit down again. "So I'll know best how to bet."

"If you want a tip, you'll wait for the third race, bet on number five."

"Why?"

"The horse is out of Royal Meadows. Sentiment aside, he's a strong runner. Record's a little shaky, but he looks good today. First race is anybody's game. So far the odds aren't spectacular."

"Are you betting on it?"

"No."

"I thought you were a gambler."

"I like to pick my own game."

Erin sat back and listened to the announcements for the first race. "Crystal Maiden sounds pretty."

"Pretty names don't win races. Hold on to your money, Irish."

She settled back and contented herself with absorbing the sounds and sights around her. By the time the horses were brought to the starting gate, she was leaning forward in her chair. "They are beautiful," she said, but she felt a great deal better when Burke's hand rested lightly on hers.

Her pulse was hammering. He gauged it to be almost as much from excitement as nerves. He'd been right about the contradictions in her. As the gates opened, her fingers linked hard with his, but she didn't cringe.

"What a noise," she murmured, while her heart beat almost as loudly as hooves on turf. As they rounded the first turn, she strained to keep following them. That was power, she thought, both raw and controlled. They might well have made it a business, but she could see why it had been and was still the sport of kings.

When it was over, she laid a hand on her breast. "My heart's still pounding. Don't smile at me like that," she warned, but laughed with it. "It's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen. All those colors, all that energy. Can you imagine doing this every day?"

"There are plenty who do."

But she only shook her head. Today was special, a once-in-a-lifetime day. "I want to bet on the next one."

"Third race," Burke repeated, and sipped his beer.

When her time came, she insisted on betting herself. Erin put the stub in the pocket of her shirt, then changed her mind and tucked it carefully in her billfold. Seated beside Burke again, she fretted until the horses were brought to the gate.

"I don't mind losing," she said with a quick grin, "but I'd sure as hell like to win better."

When they were off, she stood and leaned against the rail. "Which one is he?" she demanded, grabbing Burke's hand to drag him forward with her.

"Fourth back on the inside. Red-and-gold silks."

"Aye." She watched, urging him on. "He runs well, doesn't he?"

"Yes."

"Oh, look, he's moving up."

"Better hang on, Irish. They've got half a mile to go."

"But he's moving up." She gave a hoot of laughter as she pointed. "He's in second now."

There was shouting all around her, competing with the announcer and the thundering of hooves. Erin strained to hear all three as she grabbed Burke's shirt and tugged.

"He's taken the lead. Look at him!" She spun away from the rail and into Burke's arms as he finished half a length ahead. "He won! / won!" Laughing, she kissed Burke hard. "How much?"

"Mercenary little witch."

"It's nothing to do with mercenary and everything to do with winning. I'm going home and tell Dee I bet on her horse and won. How much?"

"The odds were five to one."

"Fifty dollars?" She gave another peal of laughter.

"I'll buy the next beer." She took him by the hand. "When does your horse race?"

"In the fifth."

"Thank goodness. It'll give me time to recover."

She bought him a beer, then went one better and bought them both hot dogs. The only time she could remember spending such a frivolous day was at a fair. This seemed like one to her, with the noise and smells and colors. She had another ticket in her pocket and Burke's sunglasses on by the time the fifth race was announced.

"I really hope he wins," she told him with her mouth full. "Not just because I bet on him, either."

"That makes two of us."

"How does it feel to own one?" she wondered. "Not just a horse, but a horse from a great line."

"Most of the time it's like having an expensive lover, one you have to keep happy and lavish money on for moments of intense gratification."

Erin turned and, tipping the glasses down, looked at him over them. "You're full of blarney."

"At the very least."

He turned and watched his horse charge through the gate. How did it feel? Burke asked himself. How did it feel for a dirt-poor bastard from New Mexico to sit and watch his six-figure horse come flying by? Incredible. So incredible he couldn't begin to describe it and wasn't sure he wanted to. It could all be gone tomorrow.