Willow Smoke (12 page)

He turned more pages of
the Taming of the Shrew. The words blurred. Gray sultry
eyes
stared
back
at
him.
A
long
elegant
nose
and
narrow
chin
emerged.
Then
there
were
full
lips
and
a
slight
overbite.
The
mouth
turned
upward
in
a
shy
grin.

Nick
frowned.
The
only
thing
that
skipped
was
his
heartbeat.

- o -

Ten
miles
away,
Daisy
hugged
Bear
and
drifted
off
to
sleep.
Words
from
Twelfth
Night
teased
her
mind:
Then
come
kiss
me,
sweet
and
twenty,
youth’s
a
stuff
will
not
endure.
She
wet
her
lips.
The
image
of
his
face
sharpened.
His
lips
parted,
inviting.
She
leaned
forward.
His
image
swirled,
fading
into
the
night.

“Underwood
checks
out.
Clean
as
a
whistle,
according
to
the
guys
in
the
Racing
Office.”
Sam Gallagher sat at the desk in
his
tiny
track
office
and
chewed
on
the
stem of a crusty pipe. He hadn’t lit it in years. “Not to worry. He’s
legit.”

Daisy
nodded
and
grinned
at
him.
“Thanks
for
checking
him
out
for
me.”
Gallagher
had
taken
off
his
University
of
Maryland
ball
cap,
exposing
his
gleaming
white
bald
crown.
She
respected
Sam’s
skill
with
horses
and
his
judgments
regarding
people.
“So
what
do
you
think
of
him?”

“Hard
to
know.
Only
talked
with
him
twice
by
phone.
He’s
a
businessman.
That’s
clear.
And
he’s
honest.
At
least
he
admits
to
knowing
nothing
about
horses.”
Gallagher
idly
scraped
caked
mud
from
his
boots
with
a
ball
point
pen.
“You
sure
got him hooked. He’s ready to get
involved
with
racing,
and
apparently
he
has
a
checkbook
that
can
back
him
up.”

“That’s
not
surprising.”
Daisy
took
a
seat
on
the
straight-backed
wooden
chair.
“So
do
we
work
with
him?”

Gallagher
smiled.
“Do
you
work with him?
I think that’s the question. Oh,
Underwood
was
respectful
enough
toward
me.
But
he
clearly
sees
himself
as
somehow
sponsoring
you
in
this
training
business.
Every
trainer
needs
to
find
an
owner
who
will
provide
enough
financial
backing
to
carry
him
through
the
bad
times
as
well
as
the
good.”

“But I’m not ready to go
out on my own.” Daisy shuddered. “I like working for you. And there’s so much
more to learn.”

“Underwood
has
good
business
sense.
He
seems
to
know
that.
Talked
to
me
about
being
your
coach,
and
that
I’d
continue
getting
my
training
fees
with
any
horses
he
might
purchase.”
Gallagher
eyed
Daisy.
“Frankly,
you’ll
get
a
raise
for
bringing
in
a
fair
amount
of
business.
Sounds
like
I’ll
be
picking
up
a
small
piece
of
the
next
horse
he
buys.

“A
lot
of
owners
want
to
do
business
that
way.
Makes
them
feel
like
the
trainer
will
be more committed
to their horses. Maybe
it’s true. I’ve
done it both ways. And
either
works
all
right.
There’s
more
potential
profit
when
you
own
a
share
of
the
horse—and
there’s
more
potential
for
loss.”
He
shrugged.
“Like
horses,
each
owner
is
different,
and
you
have
to
kind
of
read
their
cues
and
shape
the
game
for
them
without
losing
your
own
integrity.”

Daisy
sighed.
“There’s
so
much
to
learn.”

“You’ll
do
fine.”
Gallagher
glanced
away.
“I
know
I’m
old
enough
to
be
your
grandfather,
and
you’re
a
young
woman
on
your
own.”
He
stopped
talking
and
then
looked
back
at
her.
“I
just
want
you
to
be
careful
with
Underwood.
He’s
a
legitimate
businessman,
but
he’s
still
a
man.
He’s
smitten
by
racing.
And
he
may
be
smitten
by
you.
That’s
neither
good nor
bad.
Depends
on
what
you
want.
My
only
suggestion
is
be
careful,
and
sort
out
what
you
really
want.
Being
business
partners
is
one
thing,
being
something
else—well,
that’s
something
else.”

Daisy
blushed.
“Thanks,
Sam.
I’ll
try.
You’ve
been
like
the
grandfather
I’ve
never
known.
Right
now
my
head
is
spinning
in
ways
I never knew
possible. But I’ve got
street
smarts. I won’t get easily hurt.”

“I
know.
I
should
be
giving
the
same
advice
to Underwood. He may be at
more risk
than
you.
Doubt
if
he
has
any
real
grasp
of
the
tenaciousness
of
the
woman
he’s
selected
for
a
partner.”
Gallagher
chuckled.
“But
it’s the right of grandfather types
to
worry
some.
Sort
of
like
on
the
day
before
a
big
race.”

Nicholas
Underwood
was proving
an
able
student.
Daisy
watched
him
pour
over
the
past performances for the next day’s
races
at
Arlington,
his
broad
shoulders
slumping
forward.
They’d
spent
two
hours
a day
together for the past four days. It
was
always
two
to
four,
like
clockwork.

She
vaguely
wondered
what
he
did
after
he
left
the
track.
He
talked
very
little about
himself.
He
was
brooding
about
something.
Hopefully,
there
weren’t
any problems
with
his
business.
Or
with
his
women.
Good
grief,
she
didn’t
even
know
if the
man
was
married.