Summer Kisses (102 page)

Julie’s voice. Kurt remained hidden in the stall, shamelessly eavesdropping as he plucked white tail hairs from his brush.

“Doc’s an idiot. That man don’t know nothing.”

“Maybe she hurt herself when she kicked the wall,” Julie said. “No horse likes to be locked up. Perhaps if you took the boards down. Let her see out.”

Kurt’s hand stilled over the brush. So it was Otto’s horse in the boarded-up stall. Archer had arranged for Kurt to be in the same barn as Otto, but it was sheer luck the man’s stall was directly across the aisle. Strange the horse in solitary was a mare. He’d assumed it was a stallion, a bad actor that needed isolation.

“Whip the bitch and you’ll see how hurt she is. Listen, girl. We both know you ain’t got many offers. If you want to race my horse Friday, you best climb on her today.” Otto’s voice thickened. “You’d get more business if you weren’t so stuck up. You oughta try being nicer to men. Nicer to me.”

Kurt’s disgust flared, along with his relief. Julie and Otto didn’t sound like happy partners. He shoved open Cisco’s door and stepped into the aisle.

Otto loomed over Julie, standing much too close, using his size to intimidate. But Julie’s hands were balled, her shoulders squared and clearly she was too stubborn to step back.

Kurt forced a benign smile. “Good morning, Julie,” he said. “Good morning, Otto.”

She turned and walked toward him, not rushing but not dawdling either. The relief on her face was so apparent he instinctively moved closer. Otto watched her go, making no effort to hide his blatant appraisal.

A pulse ticked on the side of Kurt’s jaw. The man was not only rude but a bully. Kurt had known people like that, had even worked with some of them. Never had liked it. Yet Otto was key to the investigation, and he had to make some attempt to get along.

“Your horse did kick this morning,” he said mildly, resisting his urge to step forward and block Otto’s view.

“So what?” Otto’s gaze swung from Julie to Kurt. “Ain’t no one’s business but mine.”

“Sure,” Kurt said, “but at some point she’ll hurt herself. Must be hard to keep shoes on her too.”

Otto’s eyes slitted. “You better worry about your own horses.” He stared at Kurt for a moment before stomping from the barn.

Kurt glanced at Julie. “Touchy fellow. Know him well?”

“No.” She clasped her arms, rubbing them as though chilled. “But he’s probably not someone you want as an enemy.”

“Is that a warning?”

“Yes, I guess it is.” She raised her head, her eyes troubled. “Most people avoid him. I was surprised to see him so early. Usually I ride for him in the last set, nine-thirty, when more people are around.”

“You don’t like him, yet you gallop for him?”

“It’s the horse I’m with, not Otto. And I’m helping his animals, even if it’s only in a small way. Besides, I don’t just gallop for him. I ride races too.” She crossed her arms, her voice turning wistful. “Unfortunately I can’t afford to turn down rides. Someday maybe, but not yet.”

“Racing is a cut-throat business,” Kurt said. “We’d all like to pick and choose who we work for…who we get involved with.”

She nodded but determination blazed in her face, emphasizing those killer cheekbones, and it was clear she was thinking of nothing but riding. Probably she had no involvement in Connor’s murder. She seemed exactly who she appeared, an apprentice jockey desperate to earn mounts.

It’d be damn tough. She’d picked a hard and bruising career yet was utterly feminine. Her weight appeared perfect in spite of her generous curves…

Jesus. He needed a kick, wasn’t usually this distracted. He corralled his thoughts, turning away from her as he pointed at Otto’s horse. “What’s her story? I’ve never seen a horse locked up so tight.”

“Otto likes his privacy,” Julie said. “That mare arrived last week and is entered for Friday. I’ve galloped her four times, but she feels sore. Otto doesn’t want to hear about it though.”

Kurt made an encouraging sound designed to keep her talking and walked to Otto’s stall. There was a knothole near the bottom of the middle board. He crouched, pressing his eye to the opening, as he strained to see the horse behind the wall. Julie scuffed her leather boot on the concrete, and he could feel her edginess, radiating like a wave.

Maybe she was linked with this after all? “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Otto,” she said simply. “He’ll be really pissed if he sees you checking his horse. And sometimes his reactions are extreme.”

Kurt relaxed, pressing his eye back against the hole. “I just wonder why the mare kicks so much. She might hurt herself, although she seems quiet now.”

The horse had definitely settled, had even edged toward his voice. Her neck stretched as she sniffed at the hole, and the long hairs on her muzzle tickled his eyebrow. She looked normal but thin. Her front legs were nice and straight. Good bone. No obvious injury.

He ran a hand over his jaw and straightened. Noticed Julie had moved to shelter him from anyone entering the barn even though he was twice her size. She obviously believed he was interested in nothing but the welfare of the horse.

Of course she had no reason to distrust him. Not yet. His smile slipped a notch.

“All Otto’s horses get upset when he’s around,” she said. “They’re not much to look at either. Not like your big gray.” She glanced toward Lazer’s stall, clearly eager to ride.

Kurt turned to his tack room. “I’d rather have an ugly horse that can run than a pretty one that can’t. Want to use your saddle or mine? I’m tacking up Cisco so I can escort you.”

Disappointment swept her face, and he had the odd urge to sugarcoat his words, to see her smile again. Usually he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. But there was something about her, a hint of vulnerability in those beautiful eyes that tugged at him.

“This track is new to me,” he added, downplaying that he doubted her ability, “and I want to check the ground.”

“Of course you do,” she said. Her dimples flashed, and he was glad he’d added the blatant lie.

Julie felt like a queen, surveying her realm over Lazer’s arched neck. The horse’s power was inspiring. He was built to cover ground, and the idea of galloping over hills and fields was wonderfully enticing.

She blew out a sigh and peeked at Kurt who trotted beside her on his ugly Appaloosa. Clearly he’d been worried about her ability. But now, after a lap around the track, he seemed reassured. His grip on Lazer’s lead had loosened, and a relaxed smile softened his handsome face.

Handsome indeed. She averted her gaze, afraid he might feel her scrutiny and somehow suspect her thoughts. Besides, she never mixed business with pleasure, especially when that business involved an influential trainer from Woodbine. It was totally normal to want to look at him though—totally normal.

Last night she’d searched the Internet and discovered he’d managed a family breeding operation for eight years. There wasn’t much information, but over the past year he’d switched to training and successfully parachuted to the top levels, with stables at Gulfstream, Belmont and Woodbine. He must come from money.

She took another peek at his rugged profile. It really wasn’t fair—good looking, successful, rich. But he was actually here, a top-tier trainer. And she was riding his horse.

This was a rare opportunity, and she wasn’t going to let anything screw it up. Lazer’s caliber was unmistakable. He felt like a Cadillac and so far, they’d only trotted. She loved galloping at the track: the sounds, the camaraderie, even the smells, but it was definitely more enjoyable when she was on a good horse.

She couldn’t resist another glance at Kurt. She liked his voice, smooth, confident, even amused, and she was glad now Chandler’s filly had dumped her. She blew out a sigh then realized Kurt was looking at her.

“This horse sure is smooth,” she said quickly. “Feels like we’re floating.”

“He’s smooth, but the quick acceleration makes him hard to control. You seem comfortable though. Want to try him on your own?”

She nodded, her hands tightening around the reins. Kurt was obviously decisive and wanted to see if she could handle the colt. It was a big opportunity…and a bigger risk. Lazer was strong, bursting with energy after being cooped up in a trailer. She’d never been entrusted with such a pricey horse, and no matter how hard she tried to block the fear, it edged in, knotting her gut and making her feel inept.

Kurt reached over and removed the lead. “Keep him to an easy gallop. I don’t want him doing much today.”

He trotted Cisco to the outside rail. Suddenly she was alone. On Lazer. She gulped—her thoughts ping ponging. The colt was expensive, impeccably bred, probably ridden by famous exercise riders, famous jocks, people she’d only read about or watched on TV.

What if she fell off? He might get loose, like the filly yesterday. Might hurt himself. Just last week a horse had slipped on concrete and broken a leg. Aching regret filled her as she pictured the animal, a lovely chestnut mare, thrashing on the ground then valiantly hopping into the trailer. Then—

Stop. Don’t think of it
. Her damp hands clutched the reins. She always daydreamed at the wrong times. Lazer bucked, questioning her control, and she straightened her thoughts, softened her grip. He immediately steadied, and his stride lengthened into a smooth gallop.

Damn. He was magnificent, with an effortless reach. His sheer ability blew away her fears. He cruised around the track, thrilling her with a promise of untapped speed. But when they rounded the backstretch turn he abruptly threw his head and grabbed the bit, almost hauling her from the saddle.

She played with the reins, asking him to relax, desperate to avoid a battle of strength he was sure to win. However, the wind shoved her soothing words back in her face. The grandstand was a blur as she called on all her skill to rate the colt, frantically trying to remember everything her mother had ever said.

Lazer blasted by a horse on the rail. With ears flattened but galloping at less than full throttle, they stormed into the clubhouse turn. She braced her feet in the irons, her ragged breathing blending with his churning hooves.

Shit. She knew this was a test, her only chance. If she couldn’t control the colt, Kurt wouldn’t let her gallop Lazer again.

The colt pinned his ears and shoved at the bit, his muscled neck stiff with resistance. For a second, she was in trouble. But in sudden submission he softened his jaw and relaxed, and by the middle of the backside she’d coaxed him down to a floating trot.

It hadn’t been easy. Her breathing escaped in painful gasps, and her arms and legs throbbed. She definitely needed to lift more weights, starting that very afternoon. Maybe jog an extra mile.

A horse and rider pounded alongside them. Kurt reached over and snagged Lazer. “Good job,” he said with a nod of approval.

“Thanks.” The word burst out in a throaty gasp as she struggled to catch her breath. She sensed his appraising gaze and straightened, wishing she were better at hiding her feelings, hoping he wouldn’t spot her fatigue.

“You handled him well. Good job,” Kurt repeated. “Horse seems to like the track too. Can you breeze him tomorrow?”

Joy skidded through her, warmed her chest and slipped out the corners of her mouth. She’d passed the first test. “Yes! Oh, yes. I’d love to ride him again. Whenever you want.”

She closed her mouth, not wanting to appear too eager…but what a day, what a horse. A major turnaround from yesterday’s disaster. And this was the big track. She was no longer riding on the bush circuit. The trainer too! Kurt MacKinnon for Bill Chandler. She’d take that trade any day.

It was tempting to give her arm a quick pinch, but instead she gave Lazer an enthusiastic pat. The horse hadn’t pulled any nasty tricks and had, in fact, made her look good. She was grateful.

Kurt hid his surprise as they walked toward the barn. Julie was a much better rider than he’d anticipated and that eased any qualms about letting her gallop Lazer. Plus the colt was the perfect lure. She’d be more malleable if she were trying to earn the jockey ride. And he needed to get close to her. Needed to extract every word Connor had said during his fateful visit to G barn on what had turned out to be the last night of his life.

She was clearly winded so he waited for her breathing to steady. Dirt dotted her left cheek, and he had the odd urge to wipe it off but jerked his eyes away.

“Are you galloping Otto’s mare this morning?” he finally asked, his voice huskier than usual.

“A light gallop. Otto entered her for tomorrow.”

“Purse money is tempting.” He carefully picked his words and glanced back at her, trying to spot her dimple beneath the dirt.

She laughed, a melodious sound that brightened the morning, and even Cisco flicked a curious ear. “Otto doesn’t win much,” she said. “He hauls around, mainly between Alberta and Montana. Runs cheap horses, claimers.”

“I see.” Kurt slowed Cisco, surprised they had almost reached the barn. “How many times does he ship?”

But Otto stepped from the doorway, and Kurt quit talking. Damn poor timing. Julie was relaxed and chatty after the gallop, and he liked her smile. He really liked that smile. However, they were only twenty feet from Otto, well within earshot, and further questions would have to wait.

He stepped off Cisco and held Lazer while she unbuckled the ancient saddle she’d insisted on using.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ride my mare,” Otto said, folding his arms over his barrel chest and shooting Kurt a scowl.

A pissy kind of guy, or merely annoyed she was busy with another trainer? Get used to sharing her, buddy, Kurt thought as Julie walked toward Otto, cradling her worn saddle as though it were priceless.

He led Cisco and Lazer into the cool barn. Left Cisco in his stall contentedly munching hay, and guided Lazer to the wash rack. The sun was warm, the sky unmarked by a single cloud. A horse played on a hot walker, kicking with abandon as he circled beneath the mechanical arm. Lazer bucked once in a show of solidarity then stood still while Kurt hosed water over his sweaty chest and legs.