Willow Smoke (75 page)

“Good. It’s about time.
I was beginning to
think
that
owning
racehorses
only
meant
paying
bills.
He’s
got
to
run
in
order
to
have
a
chance
of
making
any
money.
Any
more
thoughts
on
another
claim?”

Daisy
shook
her
head.
“I
haven’t
had
time
to
think
about
that.
Sam’s
made
a
rumbling
or
two
about
a
couple
horses
that
should
run
during
the
next
couple
weeks.
You’ll
probably
want
to
talk
to
him
about
it.”

“I’ll make sure the
three of us sit
down
and
go
over
the
possibilities.
Thelma’s
called
me
four
times
insisting
on getting
into
this
horse
business.”

Smiling,
Daisy
replied,
“I
can
understand why
you’re
asking.
When
Thelma
sets
her
sights
on
something,
I
expect
she’s
quite
tenacious.”

“You’re
right
about
that—like
a
badger.
But she’s
not
the
only
one.
So
would
you
prefer
going
to
a
Bulls
game,
or
to
a
symphony
Saturday
night?”

Daisy
took
a
step
back.
She’d
agreed
to
go
out
with
Nick,
so
why
was
she
so
intimidated?
She
bent
over
and
slapped
dirt
from her jeans. When she looked
back
at
him,
she
saw
that
wicked
smile
of
his.
Had
he
looked
down
her
shirt,
or
was
he
just
admiring
her
butt?
She
winced,
trying to appear nonchalant. “Okay.
I’ve
never
been
to
a
symphony.
I
couldn’t
tell
one
musical
instrument
from
another.”

Nick
nodded.
“I’m
glad
you
haven’t
lost
your sense
of
humor,
kid.
I’ll
go
try
and
track Sam down. If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you Saturday. Oh,”
he reached
over
and
plucked
straw
from
her
hair,
“has
Reggie
come
around
yet?”

“Not yet.”

“He
will.”

“I know.”

“You
be
careful.”

Daisy
nodded
and
walked
toward
the
tack
room.
She
wasn’t
about
to
get
into
a
prolonged
conversation
about
Reggie,
if
she could
avoid
it.
As
she
rechecked
the medicine
and
feed
schedule,
she
could
hear
Nick
whistling,
strolling
down
shedrow.
Daisy
brushed
her
messed
up
hair
back
from
her
face.
Why
did
she
tingle
so?
Maybe
because
she’d
never
been
on
a
formal
date.

“So
what
does
a
girl
wear
to
the
symphony,
Angie?”
Daisy
leaned
against
the
door
of
Angie
Underwood’s
cramped
dressing
room.
Angie
sat
before
a
mirror
tilting
her
head
to
one
side
and
then
the
other.
She
tied
her
hair
up
and
then
untied
it,
letting
it
fall
loosely
around
her
shoulders.

Nick’s
sister
turned
on
her
stool
and
grinned broadly
at
Daisy.
“Didn’t
you
go
with
Nick
to
a
charity
ball?”

“Yes.”

“That
would
be
fine,
if
you
want
to
dress
up.
If you don’t want to be that fancy,
then
drop
down
a
notch.”
Angie
turned
back
to
the
mirror
and
plucked
at
her
eyebrows.
“It’s pretty hard to go wrong anymore.
Almost anything goes at the symphony or
the
theater
these
days,
unless
its
opening
night.
Now,
that’s
a
gala
affair.”

“Nick
didn’t
say
it
was
opening
night.”

“Then
it
probably
isn’t.
We
can
check
that
out easily enough. So my
brother is
back
on
your
scent?”
Angie
pursed
her
lips
and
blew
Daisy
a
kiss
in
the
mirror.

Daisy
frowned.
She
wasn’t
entirely
comfortable
talking
with
Angie
about
her
brother.
But
Angie
seemed
more
than
comfortable.
“He asked me out.”

“And
you
said
yes.”

“I told him I would
before I left his house.”

“But
you
could’ve
said
no.”

“Sure.”

“Then
why
did
you
say
yes?”
Angie
turned
around
to
face
Daisy.
“You’ve
told
me
why
you
wanted
to
be
back
in
your
own
apartment,
and
I
think
I
understand
why
Nick intimidates you. But I wonder if
you’re
playing
with
my
brother
or
with
yourself?”

“I
don’t
know
what
you
mean.”
Daisy
glanced
over
at
Angie’s
dressing
screen.

“I’m a woman, Daisy. You’re
not
talking
to
Nick
now.”
Angie
rose
and
slipped
out
of
her wrapper and stepped over to a rack of gowns.

Daisy
watched
Angie
unabashed,
clad
only
in
panties,
stand
back
and
try
to
decide
among
her
choices.
Again,
Daisy
wished
she’d
been
blessed
with
such
a
figure.
She’d
always
been
too
tall
for
her
age.
Girls
chided
her
and
boys
hated
the
fact
that she was a foot taller than
them.
But
that
was
then.
Now
she’d
found
a
man
who
matched
her
height
and
seemed
quite
pleased
with
her
body.
Daisy
shook
her
head.
What
was
Angie
saying?

“Hey you, leaning
against the wall. Did you come to talk to me or stare at me or
ignore
me?”

“I’m sorry,” Daisy
mumbled. “I’m not
playing
with Nick
or myself. At least I’m not
trying
to.”

Angie
shrugged
into
a
long
pink
gown.
It
was
a
period
piece
from
the
1880s.
“So
there’s
a
chance
that
Nick
will
be
able
to
successfully
woo
you?”