Winning Ways Page 5

  "In your dreams! You don't know anything about me. But I can tell you this. Mixing business with "games," as you put it, doesn't work, and I won't jeopardize my business of caring for Eve's horses."

  His expression showed that his boss hadn't mentioned it. An instant later, his cocksure manner returned, and a sneer colored his words.

  "We'll see about that."

  His boots thumped as he stormed across the loft and disappeared down the stairs.

  10

  Liz trembled with anger, but her skin still hummed from his touch. She closed her eyes and summoned Kurt's face, wanting to relive the sensation of his breath against her neck, the feel of his body. She'd desperately wanted to step back into his arms and let go, wanted to sink into the fragrant straw and abandon herself to her fantasies.

  She opened her eyes and shook off the visions. If she ever took that step, there'd be no one to blame but herself if she got burned. Can't happen. My whole existence depends on proving myself and keeping my career on track. I can't risk my future for a roll in the hay. She laughed out loud at the pun, and her spirits lifted a little as she descended to the main part of the barn. The thunderclouds had moved on, and the late afternoon sun slanted through the dripping trees that lined the front pasture. Kurt's face wormed its way into her mind's eye again. I have to stop this. I can't afford to think about a relationship with him, no matter how sexy he is.

  Contented animal sounds drifted from the stalls, a reminder of her beautiful horses. Pushing away thoughts of Kurt, she gazed around her small kingdom. This is the only love affair I need.

  Kurt pulled the truck up in front of his quarters at Aliqua, and killed the engine. He stared thoughtfully across the pale green fields dappled with late afternoon sunlight. Crap! This is not going well. That colt of hers is really good. I'm gonna have to work my butt off to beat him.

  Liz's image danced into his thoughts. Desire still simmered in his belly, even though her revelation had ticked him off royally. That's all I need...a hands-off policy on a woman who'll be hanging around here all the time. His irritation grew. Eve had no business leaving him in the dark about any aspect of the barn. Changing vets on a whim? Just like a woman - they all stick together. He slid out of the truck, and slammed the door. Well, these two aren't going to get in my way.

  Liz listened to the steady drone of the dial tone. The call couldn't be put off any longer. Doc mustn't hear about her plans from someone else.

  She flinched a little at his polite tone.

  "Well, hello, Elizabeth. What can I do for you?"

  "Hi, Doc. I just wanted to check in, see if anything's going on that I need to know about."

  "Things are pretty quiet, now that calving and foaling season is over. It was pretty hectic there for awhile."

  Her courage faded. "Yeah." Not that I had any part in the frenzy.

  "Well, anything else? The wife just called me to dinner."

  She hesitated, tempted to put the conversation off until later. It wouldn't be any easier. Swallowing hard, she plunged in.

  "I've met with two farm owners, and they'll probably use my - er, our services. I just wanted to let you know, in case they called the office."

  The old vet's gravelly voice brightened. "Really? Who'd you meet?"

  "Marilyn Cook and Eve Aliqua."

  "Hah! You can have Marilyn. What a pain in the neck she is! Eve Aliqua's been a client for years, but I haven't seen her horses in a long time."

  Liz's brain numbed - maybe her plan wouldn't work.

  The old man's tone became friendlier. "Well, good for you. You'll probably get along better with the women-folk in these parts than I do. In fact, if you want to go through the files, you could pick out a few more, and just make 'em your own."

  Relief bloomed. "That's a great idea. I'll come by tomorrow."

  Doc's voice softened a little. "You know, Elizabeth, I feel bad that the ranchers around here aren't more receptive to you...I guess I can't blame 'em, though. Their animals are their livelihood, and they just don't want to take any chances on a newcomer. Maybe once you get going, get a reputation in these parts, things'll change."

  Later that week, Eve called.

  "I've decided to wean Fair Lady's foal a little early. You can pick the mare up in two weeks. How does that sound?"

  Liz made some quick calculations, not liking the results. In two weeks, the foal would be less than three months old.

  "Sure, Eve, that's fine with me. Mind if I ask why you're weaning her so early?"

  "Kurt wants to show her in the weanling class at Stockton next month. Are you going to that show?"

  "No, I'm going to the show in Tahoe. I couldn't manage both."

  Liz frowned. Weaning a foal early to take it to a show wasn't good animal management. Mares naturally weaned their foals at about six months. Occasionally, for convenience, breeders made the separation at four months, but Eve's reason wasn't sound. Fair Lady would be a nervous wreck when Liz picked her up.

  I'm glad I don't have to deal with that poor little baby, crying for her mother and crashing around her lonely stall. I guess when breeders are only interested in money, they do things the way they want to, regardless of what's best for the horses.

  On Saturday morning, the telephone chimed, and Liz fumbled for it, her fingers not fully awake or functional.

  Kurt's soft voice came through the receiver like a caress.

  "Good morning. Did I wake you?"

  She squinted at the large six on the digital clock and groaned.

  "Ah, yes, matter of fact." Fully awake now, she felt her heart thudding beneath her silky nightgown. She rolled onto her back, then snuggled under the quilt, cradling the phone against her neck. "It's all right. I'm usually up by now."

  "I wondered if you'd like to go out for dinner tonight. There's a little rib joint here in El Dorado. The atmosphere's kind of down homey, but the food's great."

  She didn't answer, torn between wanting to be with him again, and worrying that she'd get sidetracked from her goals if she let him into her life for even an instant.

  "Liz? You there? It's no big deal. We've sort of been at loggerheads, and I thought maybe we could spend some time together, so you can see that I don't bite."

  An intriguing image of him, taking little bites out of her, sent a shiver of delight across her shoulders.

  "What time?"

  After hanging up, she slid farther down into her bed, thinking about an evening alone with the intriguing cowboy. I can handle this...I really can.

  11

  Pete's Barbeque was an interesting little hole-in-the-wall with sawdust on the floor, plank tables, and cheap plastic chairs. The heady aroma of an open fire mingled with that of juicy meat simmering in pungent barbecue sauce.

  Kurt held Liz's elbow, guiding her through the mob of customers to a table in the back. He glanced down at her as they walked, dazzled by how attractive she looked. The memory of someone from his past sent a stab of sadness through his heart, and he raised his defenses against the emotions threatening to intrude. He was playing with fire - he had a new job, a demanding boss, and some scores to settle. I can't afford to get involved with anyone.

  They settled at a table, and he furtively binged on the way her dark blue silk blouse clung to her, enhancing every feminine curve. A pulse of desire welled up deep inside, and he turned his attention to the menu, relieved that his arousal was hidden from view.

  Through dinner, he talked about his early days showing horses, describing some of the blunders he'd made as a very young trainer. Liz laughed at his stories, and it pleased him that she'd relaxed. In the time he'd known her, he hadn't seen her smile even once.

  She laughed and dropped a rib bone onto the growing pile in front of her, then licked her fingers.

  "What a delicious mess!"

  He squirmed, watching her small pink tongue remove the last drop of barbeque sauce from her thumb. She's oblivious to what she's doing to me! Tender thoughts moved in. Untouched,
modest, genuine. All the words that jumped to mind described the woman he watched through lowered lids. Like someone else in my life.

  Liz sat back and smiled. "When I was a kid, my dad always took me to Louisville for ribs after a big win at the nationals."

  Kurt's brain made a sudden connect. "You're Ben Barnett's daughter? I never made the connection. Now there was a horse trainer."

  A wistful smile shadowed her features. "Yes, I learned a lot from him."

  Kurt leaned across the table and gave her a teasing look.

  "I guess I better worry about facing you in the ring."

  She giggled. "I hardly think so...I'm still pretty new at this."

  He sat back and narrowed his eyes. "We'll be at the regional together...That should be interesting."

  He saw the apprehension move into her eyes. He wouldn't need to worry about her skill as a trainer...before they competed against each other at a show, he'd make damned sure she was a nervous wreck.

  Though the hour was late, the evening air remained warm. The scent of jasmine drifted through the open windows as the truck wound along the curved highway toward Placerville. Kurt was quiet, apparently lost in his own thoughts, and Liz felt content to gaze out the window at the blue-black sky peppered with stars. A large, yellow half-moon hung just at the top of the hills to the east.

  Kurt's hand slipped onto her knee and she smiled, relishing the warmth and soft pressure of his fingers, and the prickles of excitement that rushed up her thighs. She placed her own hand over his, and they traveled through the night in comfortable silence.

  Kurt's banter during dinner had been about his career, but he'd revealed little about his personal life. Finally, Liz's curiosity got the best of her.

  "Where did you work before you came to Aliqua?"

  He glanced at her, his expression suddenly wary. "A farm in New Mexico."

  "Why did you leave there, and come to work for Aliqua?"

  He didn't say anything for a few moments, then shrugged.

  "Simple. Better horses. Better pay. More responsibility."

  "Eve has wonderful horses. You must be thrilled to be working with them."

  "Yeah. Poor old Eve's been struggling for a long time to make a name for herself, but just hasn't been able to pull it off."

  Liz patted his hand. "That must be why she hired you."

  Scorn edged his reply. "I guess."

  Suddenly, his head snapped forward, his attention riveted on the horizon. "Oh, God."

  Liz followed his gaze. The night sky over Placerville was filled with an eerie, pale-orange glow.

  Kurt pushed the gas pedal flat against the floorboard, his expression grim as he navigated the narrow highway toward the light. Liz held her breath as they came into the outskirts of town, wondering what nightmare awaited them. As they rolled through the deserted streets, her heart moved into her throat. The glow had changed to deep orange with a halo of dark yellow, and the odor of burning wood lay heavily on the night air. Kurt turned the truck into the dirt lane that led to Marilyn Cook's farm, and Liz shut her eyes tightly, fighting the wave of fear that threatened to overpower her.

  The equipment shed behind the barn was engulfed in flames. Against the orange blaze that roared through the small building, Liz saw the black silhouette of a tractor. She gasped as her attention snapped to a corner of the horse barn, where flames worked their way along the edge of the roof.

  The truck slammed to a stop, and Kurt hit the ground at a dead run. Liz jumped down, and started after him, praying there would be enough time to get the horses out before tons of hay in the loft exploded into flames. A pumper truck was on the scene, and firemen were frantically hauling a huge siphon hose down to the pond below the house. Two sheriff's cars were there, and several people stood around watching the frightening spectacle.

  Liz sprinted toward the barn doors and into darkness that echoed with the terrified cries of the horses. The smoke was beginning to filter in, and breathing would be impossible in another few minutes. She stopped for a second, looked around to get her bearings, then dashed over to the wash rack. A stack of towels caught her eye. She tied one around her face, bandit-style to cover her nose and mouth, then snatched up another, and headed for the nearest stall.

  The frightened neighs tore at her sanity, echoes of another fire in the past. Please, please, let us get them all. Grabbing a halter and lead rope from a hook on the stall door, she entered. The animal inside cowered in the corner, eyes wild with terror. Liz quickly slipped the halter over the horse's head, then wrapped the towel around its face.

  Kurt came running into the barn as she emerged from the stall with the struggling horse.

  "Take them down by the pond," he shouted over the din. "It's fenced!"

  He disappeared into the dark recesses of the barn. Two men came running up to help.

  "Halters are hanging next to the doors!" she shouted. "Try to cover their eyes with something!"

  The horse beside her pulled and reared, trying to turn back. Yanking hard on the lead rope, she brought him back to all fours, then started down the slope toward the pond. The terrified animal fought her, crazed by his strong instinct to get back to the only safe place he knew - his stall.

  A few minutes later, Liz released the horse into the small pasture, turned, and sprinted back up the hill. Fire-hoses pumped long jets of water over the barn roof, the fire fighters desperately trying to smother the flames before the hay ignited. From the corner of her eye, Liz saw a figure standing next to the house. Marilyn stood like a statue, huddled in her robe and slippers, her arms hugged tightly against her body, her gaze glued to the inferno. What's wrong with her? Why is she just standing there?

  Kurt ran past, leading two horses toward the pond. Another man followed close behind, trying to control a young horse that reared and bucked at every step. Liz refocused on the emergency and did a mental head count. Three more and we've made it. She dashed back into the murky depths of the barn. The old mare - Miss Marcy - where's her stall? Liz stopped a second to let her eyes adjust to the darkness, then headed toward the far corner.

  The elderly mare whinnied loudly as Liz opened the stall door. The horse weaved back and forth, her eyes dark with terror, her nostrils flared, as she fought to breathe in the acrid atmosphere.

  "Easy, Girl. It's okay."

  Talking constantly to the mare, Liz tied the blindfold. A loud crack overhead startled them both. The fire had reached the hayloft, and tiny snake-tongues of flame licked between the boards above the stall, intent on eating their way through. Smoke filtered through every crack and knothole, the wisps swirling in elegant, deadly patterns against the ceiling, waiting for a gust of air to carry them downward to snuff out their victims.

  Liz's eyes burned and tears streamed down her face as she led the mare out of the stall. Two more and we'll be okay.

  One of the other men suddenly appeared, and Liz thrust Marcy's lead-rope at him.

  "Here, take her down. I'll get the other two."

  The old mare obediently followed the tug of the lead-rope and left the barn. Liz tried to figure out how to get the last two horses out of the barn at the same time. Kurt materialized out of the smoke and grabbed a halter. He looked up at the flames dancing across the ceiling of Miss Marcy's stall, and threw Liz a grim look.

  "Hurry!"

  As she pulled the horse out of the stall, a deafening noise like a freight train roared through the building. The hay in the loft exploded, and the already-scorched and brittle wood splintered. The ceiling in the corner disintegrated, and the animal reared, squealing with terror. Liz squeezed her eyes against the thick smoke, tears pouring down her cheeks. Voices shouted from outside, urging her to run. Another explosion, and the ceiling directly overhead started to groan. Liz frantically pulled on the rope, but the terrified animal wouldn't budge.

  Suddenly, a blast of icy-cold water hit her, and the tension in the lead-rope relaxed. Spinning around to look, she saw that the horse had also been drenched
, and the shock of the water had momentarily distracted him. She started to run, the horse right behind her. As she leapt through the door, another loud explosion sent debris slamming into her back.

  The dazed horse followed Liz down the hill. When she reached the gate, Kurt stepped forward to help her.

  His voice was tight. "I think we got 'em all. I count nine. Is that right?"

  She nodded numbly. Adrenaline crashed through her system, her breath came in ragged snatches, and hot tears burned her cheeks. Without a word, Kurt reached out, and pulled her to him. Two hearts thundered against each other, separated only by heaving rib cages. In the safety of his arms, the terror of the ordeal began to fade.

  A moment later, the horse at the end of the lead-rope nickered, and Liz smiled foolishly. Kurt wiped the tears from her face, a tender look passing over his features, and Liz's pulse jumped at the tiny glimpse of the real man inside "Kurt DeVallio - Tough Guy."

  As she reached for the gate, a flash of red caught her eye. A long gash angled across the animal's shoulder, the edges of the wound filled with splinters of wood. Blood ran steadily down his foreleg.

  "He must have been hit by flying wood in that last blast. I need to clean him up and take a look. See if the firetruck has a first-aid kit."

  While she waited, Liz inspected the injury, a superficial laceration that wouldn't require stitching. She pressed her fingers firmly over the area that bled the hardest. Within minutes, the rivulets slowed, then stopped. Kurt returned, lugging a large, red box. He dropped it on the ground, exhaling sharply. A moment later, she brandished a bottle of sterile water.

  "You'll need to hold him. He won't like this."

  Kurt stepped up to the horse's head and murmured something as he grasped the halter. The animal's body relaxed, and Liz started cleansing the wound, a part of her brain focused on Kurt's magic.

  Thirty minutes later, the injured horse was inside the pasture, quietly grazing with his herd mates, the nightmare forgotten. Liz dropped onto the grass, her knees finally too weak to hold her up any longer. Kurt eased down beside her, and slipped his arm around her shoulders.