MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance (22 page)

She positioned the bale in front of Freckles’ stall. Grace was coming over for a lesson this morning, and she liked to feed the horses plenty of hay. No doubt, a new horse would warrant extra.

“It’s nice having Alex around again,” Gramps said. “I lost my temper before. Told him to leave us alone. But I didn’t expect him to stay away so long. When that man makes a decision, he sticks to it.”

Cassie shifted the bale another inch, moving it to the left of the stall door. She didn’t like this line of talk, didn’t want to be reminded about Alex and his tough decisions. And she didn’t want to agonize about what might happen between him and Rachel.

“I should have relented and called him,” Gramps went on. “But I missed you.” He gave a little chuckle. “And it wasn’t because you were such a good worker.”

“I had to leave,” she said. “The equine center made me a great offer. I never would have found that kind of horse job here.” And it would have been torture watching Alex with Rachel. And his new baby.

“It was good of Alex to recommend you. But it pissed me off. I guessed that he had hurt you but I didn’t want you to move. Didn’t think you’d be happy anywhere else.”

She froze, her mind sluggish.
What was Gramps saying?

“But it was a friend of your vet who knew about the job,” she said.

“Alex was the friend,” her grandfather admitted. “He was the one who knew the owner. But then you moved further away with the movie work. I didn’t expect that. I don’t think he did either.”

Her grandfather’s mouth was still moving but a drumming noise filled her ears. She dropped onto the hay bale, her knees weak. So it had been Alex all along. He was the one who didn’t want her living here. Didn’t want her around his pregnant fiancée. So he’d shipped her out like an unwanted horse.

She’d been so relieved to land a job at the prestigious Center. So proud when she proved she could handle their wildest horses. It had led to her job in California. But she’d thought she had earned it on her own. While Alex had really been the one pulling strings.

She slumped back against the wall, mortified at how she’d guided him around the Center, showing him the technologies, introducing him to her friends, to Wally. And that explained why Wally knew Grace’s age. Because Alex already knew those people.

When he’d first told her about Rachel’s pregnancy, she’d been shattered. Vowed she never wanted to see him again, even though they both knew that would be impossible. They both rode at the polo club. She worked for the Sutherlands, a job that obviously was in jeopardy. But of course he’d handled it just like he dealt with everything else—quickly, efficiently and with a certain degree of ruthlessness.

She really shouldn’t be annoyed. If she had stayed, she might have turned to her high school boyfriend for solace. She could have six kids and live a stone’s throw from Gramps, forever in the shadow of the Sutherland Estate.

But I’d be teaching lessons to my own children now, instead of Grace. I’d be happy… Maybe.

She clasped her hands together, struggling with her ambivalence. Alex had only made the job available. He hadn’t forced her to accept. And if she hadn’t taken it, she never would have met Dan Barrett. Never would have been offered a position in the movie industry.

But why couldn’t Alex be tough like that with Rachel? Why didn’t he just offer his ex-wife a ranch and polo team in Argentina…or even further, Australia?

She gripped her fingers more tightly. Because then Grace would move too, or at least be gone for visits. Alex didn’t trust Rachel with Grace, even for short periods. And rightly so.

“Tired?” her grandfather asked, sitting down on the bale beside her. “You rode three horses and mucked out all the stalls. And it’s not even nine o’clock yet.”

“I wanted them cleaned before Grace arrived for her lesson,” Cassie said, still numb. “She wants to swing a mallet today. From Freckles’ back.”

She thought Gramps would protest that Grace wasn’t a good enough rider, but he only nodded. Naturally he wanted to keep the Sutherlands happy. Grace’s lesson money was their sole income. And if the girl wanted to swing a mallet, who were they to tell her she wasn’t ready?

“I’ll make sure she rides Freckles in a halter,” Cassie said. “So she doesn’t hurt his mouth by accident. But she’s in a hurry to learn polo. She’s looks up to her mother and wants to impress her.”

Gramps snorted. “Rachel doesn’t worry about hurting anything. Look what she did to Ginger. But we’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“What do you mean?”

Gramps shrugged. “After Alex and Rachel divorced, a few women were rumored to be interested in him. Something unlucky always seemed to happen.”

Cassie leaned forward on the hay bale. Gramps was not a man to gossip, or exaggerate, and ‘something unlucky’ seemed a euphemistic statement, even for him. Maybe there was more than the knife incident with Alex.

“You’re saying Rachel…does stuff?” Her voice lowered even though the barn was empty. And while the idea was repugnant, it was no longer shocking. Not after Alex’s admission yesterday. And she’d already guessed Ginger had been deliberately cut.

“I’m just saying some people follow a scorched earth policy,” her grandfather said. “She’s one of them. And I don’t believe Grace looks up to her mother. I think the kid is terrified.”

Cassie blinked. Gramps had spent a lifetime studying body language. He always knew when a horse was stubborn, scared or just confused. And his assessment of Rachel wasn’t surprising. But he must be wrong about Grace.

She did speak rather carefully for a nine-year-old, and her enunciation was painfully deliberate. However, Cassie had assumed that was her upbringing. Alex had been careful with his words too, almost guarded. Except around her.

But if Grace were really afraid of her mother, she hid it well. As if she wanted to conceal it from everyone. Most especially her father. Who was bending over backwards to keep the family unit together.

“Have you mentioned that to Alex?” Cassie asked.

“Of course not,” Gramps said. “I can criticize his riding or his horses but he’s never tolerated any comments about his family. You might be able to say something though. He’s always been open with you—”

“No, I can’t. Not now.” She jerked to her feet. Rachel was already a hot topic. And Cassie was hurting too much, feeling way too fragile. It was like they were poised over a precipice with both her and Alex desperately trying to find a workable solution.

“Besides,” she said, “Grace adores her mother. Everything she does is for her. She always wants to impress her. To please.”

Her grandfather just gave a stubborn shake of his head. “Because she’s scared,” he said.

“Lean further over his shoulder when you swing,” Cassie called, walking toward the middle of the field so she’d be closer to Grace and Freckles. “Just make sure you don’t hit his legs.”

Grace leaned over the saddle, concentration evident in the set of her chin. She pulled back her mallet and swung. There was a satisfying crack and the ball bounced over the grass. Grace whooped with triumph and even Freckles appeared pleased, his eyes tracking the ball as it rolled down the field.

“Well done!” Cassie called, her voice lifting with excitement. “Now trot to the ball and hit it again.”

Freckles seemed to understand the directions. He pricked his ears and trotted after the ball, even approaching from the left as if aware his rider held the mallet in her right hand. He was remarkably helpful, positioning himself for the swing and remaining rock solid until Grace’s seat was safely back in the saddle.

There were no control issues from riding him in a halter either. He wasn’t trying to take advantage of the fact that he had no bit in his mouth, or that his rookie rider wasn’t giving him much guidance.

Grace hit the ball again and it trickled across the goal line.

“I did it” she called, pumping her mallet in the air. “I love this game. I love this horse!”

Cassie laughed. Freckles wasn’t at all concerned about the mallet waving so close to his face. He was fearless, the type of horse determined to do a good job no matter the task. And he inspired confidence in Grace, who was now leaning forward and hitting the ball with the gusto of a more advanced player. The groundwork they’d done with the mallet had also helped. She wasn’t missing many balls.

Grace trotted back to Cassie, a grin splitting her face. She pulled Freckles to a stop and showered him with neck pats. “He’s following the ball by himself. How does he know to do that?”

“He thinks like a cowhorse,” Cassie said. “Except he’s working the ball, not a steer.” She set the bucket of balls on the grass. “Freckles is taking great care of you. Maybe you should reward him now. For the movies, we give the animals a break every hour.”

“I’ll get off now,” Grace said quickly. “Loosen his girth and let him eat some grass in the shade. Then afterwards maybe we can practice some more?” Cassie gave an approving nod. Grace might be heir to billions but she definitely knew to take care of her horse. It had taken Gramps time to teach Alex that same lesson. When his father had first dropped him off, Alex had viewed horses as machines, questioning why Cassie was always trying to find shade.

“You don’t even own most of these horses,” he’d said. “They’re just at your grandfather’s for training.”

“They still get hot,” she said, squeezing her horse behind the barn, on the tiny strip of shaded ground where her grandfather always took his riding breaks. “Gramps says to treat them firmly but with kindness and respect. Then they’ll try harder.”

Alex had just rolled his eyes and sauntered into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But the next week he found some old boards and a tarp, and made a bigger overhang against the outer wall of the barn. After that there was room for three horses and they always had the perfect spot to stand and take a break.

It was sometimes hard to analyze his reasons but once he decided a course of action, he always followed it. He’d certainly taught Grace to take good care of her animals. For some reason, Grace just hadn’t enjoyed riding…until now. So maybe Gramps was right and the girl really did fear her mother.

Cassie pulled two bottles of water from the bucket and followed Grace to the tree line. The girl had already dismounted and was loosening her girth, crooning to Freckles the entire time. She might be reserved like Alex but fortunately she’d also inherited his innate kindness, not Rachel’s mercenary nature.

Freckles lowered his head to grab bites of grass, as if aware he was being rewarded with free time and considered it his due.

“It’s good he already has a halter on,” Grace said. “It’s easier for him to chew without a bit in his mouth. I won’t be able to do this when I take him home though. Mom doesn’t let her horses eat grass when they’re saddled. And I really want her to like him.”

“She will,” Cassie said, passing Grace a bottle of water. “But it’s fun to hang out with your horse and take grass breaks together. It builds a bond.”

“At our stable the grooms hold the horses,” Grace said. “And Mom and Santiago take their breaks in the office.”

Of course, Cassie thought, twisting the cap off her water bottle. The Sutherland barn had an air-conditioned lounge with a full kitchen and bar. The office was similarly equipped, but located at the back and much more private. Rachel and Santiago clearly spent a lot of time together. Maybe if Rachel had a new boyfriend she’d give up her fixation on Alex, and it wouldn’t be necessary to spend time on a plane or live miles apart in a secret house.

She sipped her water, picturing Santiago. She’d only met him that one day at the Club but he was definitely handsome with striking dark features and an athletic build. No doubt, women found the star player attractive. But there had been something in his eyes, a careful watchfulness that had been rather disconcerting. Of course, she and Gramps had been upset about Ginger, more or less accusing Santiago of going back on his word. Naturally the man had been displeased.

“How long has Santiago ridden for your mom?” Cassie asked, stepping forward and swatting a stubborn horsefly off Freckles’ rump.

“About two years,” Grace said. “Mom met him at a tournament in Florida. He really helps the team and they’ve been winning a lot more since he came. The last trophy was so nice Mom put it in the display case. She’s getting so good at polo.”

At usual Grace talked more about her mother’s abilities than her father. She didn’t seem to realize Alex was much more accomplished. But where did Santiago fit in? Maybe he was the one who intimidated Grace. It sounded like she had stopped riding about two years ago, about the same time Santiago had arrived. And Grace had refused to take a lesson from him when Cassie had been away at the Center. Maybe it wasn’t fear but simple aversion.

Cassie pressed her lips together, loath to pump a student for information. She sat down, trying to focus instead on counting the polo balls in the bucket. It was a luxury to have so many. Seven were scattered in the grass behind the goal posts but those could be retrieved at the end of the lesson. That was another fun thing Grace could do with Freckles. Gather balls. A nice safe activity, away from Santiago.

And then she couldn’t keep her mouth shut any longer. Because if Grace was afraid of Santiago, there was probably good reason. And she couldn’t ignore it. “Do you hang out in the office too?” she asked. “You know, with your mom and Santiago?”

“No,” Grace said. “Mom and Santiago need to talk, and plan their game plays in private. So I help the grooms. Sometimes they let me bandage if a horse is quiet enough.”

Cassie’s gaze turned to Freckles’ legs. It was standard to wrap a horse’s legs to protect against swinging mallets. And Grace had done an excellent job bandaging. The polo wraps were snug and even. “Did your mother teach you how to wrap?” she asked.

“Oh, no,” Grace said, her eyes widening. “Mom doesn’t do that. Grooms take care of that stuff. That’s why we pay them. And then polo creates jobs for the ones who can’t afford horses. Mom is really nice about helping people like that.” But her words sounded hollow and she shot Cassie an odd look. “You think Mom’s nice, right?”