Saratoga Sunrise (16 page)

"Excuse me for not dressing. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You're not offending me in the least, Bond." He was quite pleasing to the eyes, a perfectly formed man.

"I'm just concerned about my daughter. Please tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know yet. Sara told me she was going to visit Clara, yet Clara just arrived to visit Sara." Bea wrung her hands. She hated to worry Bond and hated to betray Sara, but Sara had left her no choice. "And it's not the first time, Bond. It's happened before."

"Where was she before?"

She didn't want to answer.

"Bea? I insist you tell me. I'm her father. I don't understand why I am not privy to things that concern my Sara."

"Because Bond, nothing serious is afoot."

"Then tell me where she was before."

Bea took a deep breath. "She fell into a spring in the country."

"And what was she doing there?"

"I believe she was having a picnic with Jack Summers."

"What?" Bond's voice boomed throughout the cottage.

"Shhhh! Everyone will hear you." Bea closed the front door.

"What was she doing with my groom? I forbid him to see her."

"This was a prior event. Apparently, she lost her balance, fell in and got wet. I happened upon her with Clara, and Clara loaned her some dry clothes."

"This is a scandal, I say. A scandal!"

"Pshaw! It wasn't a scandal, it was an accident."

"She was unchaperoned?"

"Well...yes."

"Beatrix, how could you let this happen?"

"Sara has a mind of her own, Bond. You know that. Besides, I happen to like Jack Summers more than Montague Fordice."

"Montague Fordice would never compromise her like that."

"Montague Fordice doesn't pay any attention to her."

"And Jack Summers pays her too much attention!"

Bea put a hand on his arm to calm him. His skin felt warm and a little damp from his wash. He smelled of sandalwood soap and vetiver. She looked into his dark eyes, wondering for the millionth time why he didn't love her. She had always loved him, even before her sister Rose even knew him.

"Bond, why don't you finish getting dressed? I have already sent for the carriage. I think we should go down to the stables. We'll most likely find Sara there."

His hands clenched into tight fists. "With Jack Summers?"

"Yes, with Jack Summers."

"I'm going to fire that man."

"You'll do no such thing until we find out what has transpired. Give your daughter a chance to explain and do afford Jack Summers the same courtesy. Promise me that you'll do that this time."

He seemed to think about her words for a long moment, then kissed her on the forehead. "I promise. As usual, you're right, Bea. What would I do without you?"

It would have been so terribly easy to tilt her head so that his kiss fell upon her lips.

Instead, with tears stinging her eyes, she walked out onto the porch to await Johnson.

CHAPTER 10

Jack was a joy to watch. From her position on a bale of hay in the tack area of Seawind's large stall, Sara couldn't take her eyes off the fine groom.

She smoothed down her dress. No one would ever know about her swim in the spring. "Where did you learn how to care for horses?"

He hesitated, as if he didn't want to answer her. Finally, he said, "Cornell University. I was studying to be a veterinarian."

"How perfect!" she said, before realizing that he said "was". "You're not studying now? You're not going to finish school?"

"I have to take care of some family business first before I finish my studies."

"But you will finish?"

"Perhaps."

A veterinarian. Yes, he was perfect. He'd be a wonderful help to her at her horse farm. She was giddy with excitement, and nervously tried to find the right words to ask him to join her in her dream.

"Jack, I have a business proposition for you," she said. "And I implore you to accept."

He stopped what he was doing and stood up. "What's your proposition?"

"Please hear me out, and don't laugh."

He smiled and sat next to her on the hay. "I won't laugh."

"I'd like us to be partners in a horse farm. I'll supply the capital and manage things and you take care of the horses."

Jack didn't say a word, only raised an eyebrow.

"No one would take a woman seriously in business matters, especially not a woman with a handicap. I'm realistic enough to know that and accept it. And you wouldn't work for me. We'd be partners." Her heart began to pound. It was terribly important that he accept. Jack was the one she needed.

"And you can have your own practice. I'll build you your own separate facilities on the property," Sara said. "And you can teach me what you know, and I'll take over more, leaving you more time for your practice. It will work out wonderfully... you'll see."

"That's quite generous, but I don't want your father's money, Sara."

He was starting to withdraw, and she panicked. She had to convince him to help her in this venture. He was the answer to her prayers.

"It's not my father's money. It's my money."

"Yours?"

"Yes. I've been...gambling." She shrugged her shoulders, when she noticed the shocked look on his face. "Well, I don't really consider it gambling. I consider it as just showing support for my horses. But I've won a lot of money. And I figure that if Seawind wins the Travers, I'd have more than enough to start my horse farm."

He chuckled. "Sara, you are certainly full of surprises." He rose up, and Sara resisted reaching up and tugging on his arm so that he would sit back down and listen to her.

"You're laughing at me," she said. "I asked you not to. I'm quite serious, Jack."

"I believe you are, but does your husband-to-be and your father know that you are making a business proposition to me?" He rubbed his beard and rocked back on his heels. "I wonder what they'd have to say about it all?"

"I'm not marrying Mr. Fordice. I plan on telling him soon, as soon as I tell my father."

"You'd best let Chef Morris know also. I overheard him telling another guest that he ordered lobster from Nova Scotia for your engagement party."

Chef Morris! She had forgotten that he was planning her engagement party.

"I'll take care of everything and everyone, but I need you for my horse farm, Jack. I want to make it the biggest horse-breeding farm in the entire country. The thoroughbreds that we'd breed would be the best and the fastest." She knew she was carrying on too much. "Please think about my offer. You don't have to give me an answer right now. We can discuss it later."

"I don't think you've thought my part of this through. Your father wouldn't tolerate me. You shouldn't even be here now."

"It would be our business and not my father's. He wouldn't have a say in it."

"The powerful Bond Peterson? Not have a say in it?" he blurted. "Are you joking?"

Sara's heart beat fast in her chest. What caused this outburst from Jack?

"Just think about it," she said softly.

She was tired and disappointed that the conversation wasn't going at all like she had hoped. All she wanted to do was to lay down on the hay and rest her eyes, but she needed to help Jack with Seawind. Sara made an effort to get down off the hay and stifled a yawn.

"Stay there. I can take care of Seawind. You've had a very tiring day." He spread a new horse blanket on the pile of loose hay in the corner. "Why don't you rest?"

It was tempting.

He held his hand out to her to help her up, and she took it. "I should get back, but maybe I'll just rest for a while. But only if you're sure you don't need any assistance."

"I'm sure."

She laid down on the blanket he spread on the sweet-smelling hay. "You'll think about our partnership?"

"I'll think about it."

He wasn't convincing, but it gave her hope.

Jack took his jacket off and spread it over her. He brushed the hair back from her cheek, and Sara thought she would melt from his gesture. He cared about her, she knew, and he treated her as if she had intelligence and worth, something her father had yet to discover about her, and Monty never would.

She drifted off to sleep with the memory of their heated encounter in the spring and the scent of horse and hay, and with the hope that Jack Summers would be her partner in the best horse farm in the country.

# # #

Clara leaned forward on the comfortable seat of Bond Peterson's fashionable carriage. In front of her sat Sara's Aunt Trixie and Sara's father.

"I think I need to tell you both something," Clara said. "I don't want to, but it's for Sara's own good."

Bea took her hand. "Tell us then, dear."

"Yes. Absolutely," Bond echoed. "If it concerns my daughter, then it concerns us."

"Jack Summers is not who he appears to be," Clara began. "That's not his real name."

"What?" Bond leaned forward to hear the girl over the clip-clop of the horses. "Who is he then?"

"His real name is Jack Wheeler. He grew up here in Saratoga Springs until he left for school. I didn't recognize him with that moustache and beard at first."

"Wheeler? Wheeler, you say?"

"Yes," Clara answered quietly.

"Is he any relation to George Wheeler, the man who destroyed Tempest Wind?" Bond said, hoping against hope.

Clara gulped. "Jack is his son."

Bond pounded the side of the carriage with his fist. "I thought he looked familiar!" he yelled, and the two woman jumped. "I entrusted my horses to the son of the man who slashed the legs of Tempest Wind?"

They didn't answer, but Bea put her hand on his arm. "Calm down, Bond."

"I'm appalled. This Jack Summers is supposed to be a Cornell student."

"He is a Cornell student, Mr. Peterson. He's studying to be a veterinarian," Clara said.

"At least he's not studying how to kill horses," he said sarcastically, as Bea gave him a warning look. "But what on God's green earth is he doing handling my horses?"

"I think you need to ask him that, dear," Bea said, putting her hand on his. "But he might not be up to anything. He seems to care about Sara, and he's done an excellent job with the horses. You said so yourself."

"I can't help but think he has an ulterior motive." He turned her hand and held it grateful for the contact with her. She was always the voice of reason, a calming influence on him. With Sara, Bea had filled the emptiness that Rose's passing had left. She had filled his emptiness as well.

Admittedly, Sara perplexed him. He could handle million dollar business deals with the likes of Morgan or Brady or Rockefeller, but he couldn't handle his only daughter. She was a puzzle to him-a delightful, challenging puzzle-but a puzzle nonetheless.

And Montague Fordice...was he wrong about him? He had seemed to be a perfect match for Sara. He wanted Sara settled and happy.

Would Montague Fordice make her happy?

He hoped so. He'd like to see Sara as happy as he and Rose once were.

Funny, how at times he had to close his eyes and concentrate to remember what she looked like. Instead, he kept seeing Bea's smile, not Rose's. He heard Bea's laugh, not Rose's.

And he felt disloyal to his beloved wife.

He squeezed Bea's hand and reminded himself that she would help him through this latest crisis with Sara-just as she always had.

"Mr. Peterson, was I right in telling you about Jack Wheeler?" Clara fussed with her apron on her lap.

"Yes, and I couldn't be more grateful to you. Now I know what I'm up against."

The girl nodded and closed her eyes. "I just hope Sara won't be hurt. I know how much she likes him."

Bea must have noticed his shocked expression. "She does like him, Bond. So please be careful."

"But she's engaged to Fordice!" Bond protested.

Bea shook her head. "For now, perhaps."

Women! He just didn't understand them.

Johnson guided the carriage as close as he could to the Peterson stables. Walking around to the door, he opened it, and helped the ladies out.

"Johnson, we shouldn't be long."

"Yassir, Mr. Peterson."

Bond took a deep breath and offered the ladies each an arm.

Clara stepped back. "If you don't mind, I think I'll take a walk. This is a family matter."

Bond nodded. "Don't go far, my dear."

"I won't."

Bea took his arm, and they entered the stable area. Bond leaned over the half-door on Amberglow's stall, but no one was there except the horse. He did the same at Seawind's stall, and spotted Sara sleeping on the hay in the corner. Then he saw Jack Summers... er...Wheeler.. bending over the bandaged legs of Seawind.

Bandaged legs?

He stormed into the stall, spun Wheeler around, grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him out of the stall into the bright sunlight.

"What the hell is going on?" Bond said, as he threw the man on the dirt in front of the barn.

"Bond! Stop it!" he heard Bea shout in fright. She rushed over to Wheeler and stood in front of his prone body. Jack scrambled to his feet with clenched fists at the ready.

Bond prepared himself for a fight. Wheeler was fit, younger and stronger, but Bond was angry. Quite angry.

"Stop it immediately. Both of you!" Bea said quietly, but firmly, as she stepped between them. "I will not tolerate this. You are both making spectacles of yourself. Now, please sit down and discuss this like gentlemen."

Jack's nose flared and he was breathing heavy. Bond rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Maybe he wouldn't fare so well against this strong younger man.

"Sit down, Bond," Bea ordered. Her gentle, but firm, hand on was on his arm again, but he couldn't move. "Bond?"

"All right." He sat down on a metal chair outside the barn.

"Jack?" Bea motioned for him to take the other chair.

Reluctantly, Jack sat down, but his fists remained clenched, and he remained alert, ready to react.

"Bond. You go first," Bea ordered. "Tell Jack what's troubling you."

"What did you do to my daughter?"

Jack looked offended. "Nothing. I did nothing to Sara. She's just taking a nap. She was tired."