Heat Wave (Riders Up) (5 page)

“It looks great,”
Maggie chirped, grinning broadly. “It’ll be something to see these paddocks
filled with horses.”

“As I’ve said
before,” Ed said, trying not to share his own excitement, “I think you should
do that in stages. Pick up a half dozen racing stock now. Maybe a couple yearlings.
In the fall, we might want to see about buying three or four broodmares who are
already in foal. That’s a good, efficient way to get started. Afraid you can’t
expect much return on your investment this year.”

He headed into the
barn. Maggie followed. Stopping in the tack room, Ed reached for an old English
saddle and began checking its leathers for wear. He’d been collecting and
repairing tack since the day he started working for Maggie.

Maggie stood in the
doorway and watched. “We need a financial cushion to see us through this year,”
she said. “All the corn should be planted by the end of the week. Mr. Jacobs
and his son will put up the hay. He gets half and I get half. I’ll hold some
money back in reserve, but the cash crops are critical for our plans. So, are
we ready to make that trip to Chicago you’ve been talking about?”

“Got to either buy,
borrow, or rent a six horse trailer first. I’ve been talking with some contacts
up there who raise some decent stock and know of plenty more. We should be able
to do all right.”

Pulling down hard to
test the irons, Ed looked across the saddle at the profile of his boss, who had
busied herself sorting through a stack of halters and bridles he’d picked up at
a saddle shop the day before. Things had sort of settled out between them. He
liked that. No longer was he intimidated by her confidence or frustrated by her
sensuality. He could take in her subtle beauty without fear of grabbing her. He
liked being near her. She always smelled of lavender.

He appreciated,
too, the freshness she brought to the business of horseracing. Things he took
for granted were eye opening surprises for Maggie. It had been so long since he’d
broken into the business he’d forgotten how stimulating it could be. And they
hadn’t even worked with a horse yet.

His nostrils
narrowed. Maggie Anderson had to have the most expressive, kissable lips he’d
ever seen. Quickly, he ducked his head back to the saddle he’d been working on.
That line of thinking could only lead to trouble—big trouble.

- o -

Without turning,
Maggie could feel the warmth of his appraising gray eyes. Surprisingly, she’d
become quite comfortable with the man hovering around. He looked at her like a
man looked at a woman, although he tried not to let on that he did. His disguised
interest flattered and chilled her. She knew he’d never touch her in a romantic
way unless she asked.

Maggie Anderson wasn’t
about to get involved with a man no matter how appealing he might be, she
promised to no one in particular.

She was pleased to
see that her hired man was putting some weight on. At least three evenings a
week he disappeared to attend his meetings. His commitment to staying off
booze, so far, was genuine and strong.

As Maggie reached
up to place a yearling halter on a hook, a shadow of a smile formed on her
lips. She hadn’t expected Ed Harrington to change so. He cleaned up real well,
she supposed. But that wasn’t her business. When would he start dating again? Certainly,
a man as good looking as Harrington must have plenty of women to choose from.

Her right cheek
twitched.

“Now what are you
upset about?” Harrington asked. “Did you know your cheek vibrates when you’re
angry?”

“What?” Maggie’s
hand flew to her cheek. “Oh. You must be mistaken,” she stammered. “I was
wondering if the kids would be okay with Mrs. Murphy checking in on them, or
whether she should take them on home with her. Carolyn will have a fit if I
make her stay with the Murphys. Do you really think we’ll be gone an entire
week?”

Harrington nodded. “It’ll
take a day to van each way. We’ll need time to look over some horses. And
depending on what’s happening at the track, Cassie may want to take you to the
races to claim a horse. Can’t do all of that in less than a week.”

“Are your friends
going to want us to stay with them the whole time?”

Harrington dipped
his chin but failed to hide a trace of a smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll
like them, and they’ll like you. We go back through some tough times together. There
was a time they didn’t like me much, and I didn’t like them either. I was a
cocky bastard to be around.” He stiffened.

“But Clint and
Cassie Travers were among the very few folks who stood by me during the
scandal. Clint still has a guy looking into the whole affair from time to time
to see if some piece of evidence was overlooked or if anybody is ready to
change a story. Odd, how it turned out. I owe them a lot. The least we can do
is give them some business.”

Maggie thinned her
lips but did not speak her mind.

“You’ll get some of
the best bred horses in the Midwest. I don’t just do business with friends. I
do business with friends who raise very fine horses.”

Ducking away
briefly from his intense stare, Maggie replied, “I imagine you do. It’s hard to
picture you as cocky, though.” Embarrassed by her own words, Maggie gulped, but
couldn’t look away quickly enough to avoid seeing his frown.

“Guess I’ve been
humbled over the years.”

“No playing hooky,”
Maggie said again.

Ed watched her push
her scrambled eggs back and forth across her plate.

“Mrs. Murphy will
call you at seven to see if you are up, again at eight to be sure you made the
bus, and stop by in the evening. You are welcome to stay overnight at her home
any time. And on the weekend, Carolyn, you will be with Barbara and her family.
And Johnny, you’ll go home with David. Do you have all of this down?” Maggie
rubbed the tips of her fingers across her temples. “Emergency numbers are on
the fridge. The number where we will be staying—Travers—is at the top of the
list.”

Both children
rolled their eyes toward the ceiling.

Ed sat mesmerized
by Maggie’s incessant chatter. He’d not witnessed this side of her before.

She caught him
staring at her. “Oh,” she stuttered. “I guess we’ve been over this a few times
already. Was I rattling on?” She reached over to ruffle her son’s hair. “Why
didn’t you stop me?”

“A tornado couldn’t
stop you when you get nervous and fidgety, Mom,” Carolyn chastised.

“Yeah,” Johnny
teased, “sometimes you talk so fast my ears can’t keep up with you.”

Ed laughed aloud. It
was a comfortable family. Each individual had foibles, but was remarkably
tolerated by the others. Had it always been that way, or did part of the
camaraderie come because of having to deal with the death of a husband and
father?

  “Well, I hope you’ve
had some fun over of my concern,” Maggie protested easily. “It’s just that I’ve
not been away this long since…” Her eyes widened and became misty. “I know,
Carolyn, you’re a teenager. And neither one of you wants a babysitter. I wish I
could take you with us. But you can’t miss that much school this close to the
end of the school year.”

“Mom, we’ll be
okay,” Carolyn insisted. “We’ll have to send Mrs. Murphy home to get rid of
her. And you know Hank isn’t going to come and go without checking in on us. He’s
almost family.”

“You’re right, dear.
I forgot to mention I’ve instructed Hank whenever he is planting or mowing to
take a moment and see how you’re doing. Okay,” she said with a lopsided grin. “No
more lecturing. You know I love you. You’re just growing up too fast. I’ll try
not to worry again until we’re driving out of the driveway.”

Ed sat back and
relaxed as tension dissipated around the table.

”Can’t wait till
you get back,” Johnny yelped. “I still can hardly believe it. Racehorses!”

Maggie looked hurt.
“You sound more eager to see the horses than me and Ed.” She smiled at her son.
“But it will be great fun to see them in our paddocks.”

“Don’t think anyone
knows how much work these animals are going to require,” Ed grumbled, draining
his cup of coffee. “There will be plenty of jobs for everyone.”

“Fantastic!” Johnny
shouted.

Carolyn remained
quiet.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Well, now that the
guys are in the city, Eddie’s down for his nap and Lester and Sammy won’t get
home for another three hours, we have the place to ourselves,” Cassie Travers
said, smiling broadly at Maggie, who sat at the kitchen table finishing her
lunch coffee. “What would you like to do?

“Oh, you’ve been so
helpful already,” Maggie said, looking over at the redhead putting leftovers
away. “It’s just nice being here. I’ve been away from my kids for as much as
two weeks, but that’s when they go to camp. I’ve never gone off and left them
like this. That’s different.”

Cassie nodding
knowingly. “Yeah, it is.” She filled a cup with black coffee and sat down across
from Maggie. “Sometimes I’ll travel with Clint. And you know what? The kids
seem to survive quite well. I suspect yours are doing fine, too.”

“Yes, I’m sure they
are. Carolyn is quite capable and Mrs. Murphy will likely be a nuisance
checking on them. And of course Hank—he works part-time for me planting and
harvesting—he’ll always find a reason to stop and ask how things are going. No,
I’m sure they’re doing fine…I’m less certain about me.”

Maggie frowned.
Where had those words come from? She’d liked Cassie instantly, but she didn’t
need to bare her soul, either. The Travers kitchen did remind her of home,
though—light, airy, filled with smells of cooking, a good gathering place for
family.

“I can see that we
need to keep you busy,” Cassie said. “Tomorrow we’ll go to the track. There are
a couple claiming possibilities, one in race three and another in race five. Has
Ed explained claiming races to you?”

Maggie nodded. “That’s
where an owner puts his horse in a race for a price tag. If someone else wants
to buy or claim the horse they put their money in some kind of box just before
the race. And the horse is hers.”

Laughing, Cassie
said, “That’s about it, except there might be several other owners who want the
horse. I’ve attempted many claims that I never got because I didn’t win the
roll of the dice to decide who would actually get the horse.”

“Oh. There’s so
much to learn.”

“You’re picking up
on things quickly, that’s clear. And you have a natural nose for horses. That
was evident yesterday when we drove over to Broken Wheel Stable to evaluate
their yearlings. And from what I can tell, you have a realistic head on your
shoulders. I’m sure Ed has told you that in this business it’s okay, even
necessary, to dream, but you still have to be prepared to make hardheaded
decisions about horses and about people.”

Maggie winced. “Ed
has tried to make us all understand that we shouldn’t get too attached to any
one animal. Not all horses are meant to be racehorses, he says. If you just
want to own a horse, don’t bother to buy a racehorse.”

Chuckling, Cassie
agreed. “That sounds like Ed, all right.” Sobering, she continued, “The best
decision you made regarding your horse business was hiring Ed Harrington. You
can’t find a sharper mind or a harder worker. He has a touch with horses that
is rare, particularly for a man.”

Maggie paused,
chewed on her lower lip, and listened to the ticking of the kitchen clock. “Tell
me about him.”

“Ah.” Cassie laughed
softly. “I believe there’s more behind that question than horses.”

Maggie felt herself
blush, but she remained silent.

“Okay…Ed
Harrington.” Rubbing her hands vigorously, Cassie obviously warmed to the topic
of discussion. “When I first met him, I thought he was an arrogant bastard who
knew more about horses than he had a right to know. He was attracted to me, I
guess, but I wasn’t interested in him. The word on shedrow was that Harrington
not only was a hard worker, he also drank hard and went through women like they
were disposable containers.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not saying he’s
like that now.” Cassie shrugged. “You said you wanted to know, and I started at
the beginning.

Maggie nodded.

“It wasn’t long
after Clint and I were married that Ed seemed to go through some big changes. I
think there were some health problems. Anyway, he cut way back on his drinking.
And he found a steady woman.”

Maggie brushed her
fingers across her twitching cheek.

“At the same time,
his career was skyrocketing,” Cassie added. “Within a year or two there was no
question that he would be working with Triple Crown candidate horses.”

Cassie rose to pour
more coffee. Returning to her seat, she shuddered slightly before continuing
with her story.

“I always respected
Ed as a horseman, but it was only through personal crisis that I came to
respect him as a man. There is no other way to put it, Maggie—Ed saved my life,
as well as that of our baby.”

Involuntarily,
Maggie gasped and her stomach clenched.

“I was six weeks
early with Eddie. No one expected that. Clint was away on a trip. The labor
started when I was at the track. There was bleeding.” Cassie sighed. “Ed rushed
me to the hospital and stayed with me throughout the whole ordeal. The doctor
said if we had been another hour later we would most certainly have lost the
baby and maybe, possibly even me.”

“I didn’t…know,” Maggie
murmured, forcing back tears.

“Of course you didn’t.
It would be the last thing Ed Harrington would want to talk about. That might
hurt his image as some kind of tough guy.”

Thoughtfully,
Maggie ran an index finger around the rim of her coffee cup. Seldom would the
man allow a glimpse of his heart, yet she’d known all along that it was a good
heart.

“We named our son
after Ed,” Cassie continued, “and he is the boy’s godfather.”

“Really!”

“Uh huh—I’m not
sure how keen he is about that, but he agreed. Until he really got deep into
alcohol, he remembered birthdays and special holidays.”

Those words warmed
Maggie’s insides. “Why did he run? From the scandal. He had friends who stood
by him. He had you and Clint.”

Shrugging, Cassie
drummed her fingers on the table. “You’ll have to ask him. I can only guess. Fear
of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear of himself. Who knows? We tried to help
him. But once he got heavily involved with booze, he wouldn’t let us help. That
was difficult for everybody.”

Maggie watched
Cassie search for words, for an answer to a question she’d obviously struggled
with many times before.

“I imagine shame
drove him away,” Cassie said at last. “Sadly, shame for something he didn’t
even do.”

“You’re convinced
of that,” Maggie probed cautiously.

“Absolutely! He and
I have had our differences, but Ed Harrington would no more throw a race than I
would.”

“And then he just
disappeared.”

“After awhile, he
did. He couldn’t get work around here. And he wouldn’t accept a job from us. The
man has too much pride for his own damn good. Anyway, Clint stayed aware of his
whereabouts through a private investigator. We’d had no direct word from him
for months—not until you came along.” Cassie’s eyes sparkled as if she was
about to disclose a secret. “You’re good for him, you know.”

Again, Maggie felt
her cheeks warm. “I just gave him a job.”

“Right. You gave
him a hell of a lot more than that. Respect. Even some hope. I don’t know how
you did it, but somehow you penetrated that alcohol haze in a way no one else
had. You must have found him at the right moment. Or maybe he saw something in
you that was worth changing for. He likely doesn’t even know.”

“He probably saw
brazen stupidity,” Maggie confessed. “I was pretty hard on him when we first met.”

“No doubt that’s
what was needed. And maybe he was tired of running. I suspect you scare the
hell out of him.”

“Me?” Maggie
frowned.

“When I was a
practicing social worker, I had plenty of opportunity to work with alcoholics. I
imagine Ed’s afraid of the bottle and its potential power over him. You likely
scare him in less clear ways. He owes you; he knows that. Yet he’s probably
afraid he won’t live up to your expectations. And mostly he’s afraid of
himself. Can he trust himself to make the right decisions? What will he do in
the future when things don’t go well? Will he run? Or will he stick?”

Maggie nodded. Those
questions lay at the back of her mind whenever she worried about Ed Harrington
and her future. Those questions underscored her vulnerability.

Would he stick when—not
if—things blew up around them? They wouldn’t always agree on how best to
establish or manage the stables. He would advise, but she had to make the final
choices. How would he handle her overruling him?

“What about the
woman?” Maggie inquired hesitantly. Cassie’s return stare was blank. “The
steady woman you talked about earlier.”

“Oh, her. She
dumped him as soon as the scandal hit. I don’t think Ed’s ever had a family. He’s
comfortable with you and you with him.” Cassie paused. With a provocative look
she added, “And he is handsome in a rough sort of way, isn’t he?”

Maggie’s eyes
rounded. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

“No matter,”
breezed Cassie, getting up to clear away their empty cups, “whatever woman is
able to lasso Ed Harrington someday will be a damn lucky woman.”

“Thanks,” Maggie mumbled.
Suddenly, she couldn’t find a place to put her hands.

Cassie shot her an
inquisitive look.

“For telling me
about Ed. I’ve got a lot riding on him.”

“Can we use it?” Maggie
inquired, watching Harrington examine the six horse trailer as if it might be
booby trapped. Clint Travers had referred them to Tom Basswood, the son of a
trainer who had recently died. The son had no use for the racehorse business
and was dispersing all his father’s horses and equipment.

“Can’t find any
sharp edges,” Harrington grunted. “It should do. Old man Basswood always took
good care of his horses. And the price is right.”

Harrington stepped
out of the trailer and nodded at Maggie. She turned to the waiting Tom Basswood
and said, “We’ll take it.”

The middle aged man
gave her a quick smile. “That’s great. Don’t know why a pretty thing like you
would want to get into the horse business, but as long as you do, I’m more than
willing to take your money. Dad had more horses than he knew what to do with.”

Tom Basswood folded
his arms across his massive stomach. “As long as you’re here and own a horse
trailer, why don’t you look at our horses? I can guarantee you won’t find
better prices for what you’re getting.”

Maggie glanced at Harrington.

“Why not?” he
muttered. “Doesn’t cost anything to look.”

As the three of
them walked toward the paddocks west of the sprawling barn, Maggie asked, “So
why are you so determined to get out of the horse business, Mr. Basswood?”

The man grunted. “It
was my dad’s dream, never mine. I had to bust my ass as a kid grooming his
horses, treating them for colic, getting my teeth jarred loose whenever I was
thrown. Long hours. No time for family. Owners treat you like you’re cheating
them. You have to have a lot of money to make money. Traveling from track to
track.” He stopped and looked at Maggie. “Have I left anything out?”

Maggie shook her
head. He was a distasteful man. Thankfully, for the sake of the horses, the
overweight man didn’t try to ride them. But some of what he said had a familiar
ring to it. Templeton had warned her about the long hours, the pressures on
family, and the fact that many stables netted little profit.

She caught Harrington
staring at her with his quizzical look. Was he wondering if she would have the
courage for the long haul?

As they
continued walking toward the paddock, Maggie remembered Cassie’s praise for
Harrington. A top notch trainer ready to move to the big time by taking on Triple
Crown contenders.

Maggie
shivered. If Harrington was cleared of wrongdoing, which Cassie fully expected,
how long would he stay in Iowa helping a widow get started in a business where
failures outnumbered successes? Wouldn’t he dash back to Chicago and pick up
where he left off? Any sensible person would do that.

And where would
that leave Anderson Stables? Maggie shook her head. She didn’t want to think
about it.

They came to a stop
before a large paddock. Six horses were eating hay from a large round bale
sitting in the center of the area. Maggie thought none of the horses seemed
very alert. One had an obvious sway back. She was curious what Harrington would
have to say about them.

“Each of these was
competitive at Hawthorne and Arlington. The two bays on the left were running
in allowance races. The others are claimers.” Basswood scratched his chin. “I
think they were high end claimers, but I’d have to check to be sure. Dad could
tell you every race a horse ever entered. In any case, I’m sure you’ll find
them quite competitive in Iowa.”