"Keep the front of the horse straight," Michael called to the rider. "Point his nose at F and push his haunches to the outside."
I settled back into my seat. The girl on the chestnut straightened her horse at F, then guided him through the corner.
"Better," Michael said.
I popped the tab on my Coke and waited for the fizz to dissipate. Rachel had a yellow legal pad balanced on her thigh, and she'd been taking notes with a pink ink pen. Her handwriting was neat and precise and loopy and reminded me of love letters furtively passed in an afternoon geometry class.
As I looked up from the page, Elsa walked around the row of chairs and stopped in front of Michael. I glanced at Rachel's profile, then studied the Coke can in my hand. I took a gulp and glanced sideways at them.
Mrs. Timbrook was wearing a man's dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, and she'd twisted the shirttails together and knotted them above her navel. She hadn't bothered with the buttons.
Or a bra.
She leaned forward to offer Michael a food tray from the caterer, and I almost choked. I shifted in my seat and looked across the front field toward the old Ritter farm.
The scrapers had finished cutting and reshaping the land, and earlier that morning, the graders had begun smoothing gravel along the cul-de-sacs.
Elsa squeezed a chair into the space next to Michael and sat down.
I risked another glance. Michael was pretty much ignoring her, but Rachel's eyebrows were bunched together, and her lips were pursed as if she'd eaten something sour.
The close proximity was suddenly too much.
I got up and left.
In barn B, halfway down the aisle near the cut-through to the arena, I slouched onto a hay bale and leaned against a stall front. The barn was cool and dark, and as I sat there, listening to the slow, measured breaths of the horse dozing in the stall behind me, I was fairly certain I was the only one in the barn except, of course, for the horses. I finished the Coke, crumpled the can, and tossed it at the trash can positioned just inside the boarders' tack room. It bounced hollowly off the rim and rolled across the asphalt.
In the square of bright light at the end of the long aisle, Michael crossed the expanse of asphalt that shimmered under the late afternoon sun.
I pushed myself off the hay bale and picked up the can as Elsa passed the doorway. And she wasn't heading to her barn.
Chapter 17
The final ride of the evening was followed up with a party of sorts. When the last of the participants headed for their lodgings, I walked through the barns. I had just finished checking on the clinic horses when Michael and Rachel entered the barn together.
She was gazing up at him with a faint smile on her lips. Her hair bounced on her shoulders when she nodded in response to something he'd said. I watched her with an odd mixture of love and sadness. I no longer cared that I'd gone from attraction to infatuation to love faster than was healthy. I loved her, and if she didn't feel the same, then I would just have to hope she'd catch up.
She said something I couldn't hear.
"That's right," Michael said, "and eventually the horse will respond to the release, which is absolutely phenomenal."
She smiled at him and brushed the bangs from her eyes. "I can imagine."
"Ask for a little shoulder-in and counter bending to get him soft, and like I said earlier, do lots of transitions within the gait to keep him focused."
I turned away from them and stared at one of the clinic horses without really seeing him.
They paused alongside me. "Rachel tells me you're going to lock the place up tonight."
"Yep."
"I'm going to sleep in the trailer. That okay?"
I jerked my head around. "You're kidding?"
"No. I always ask for the hotel's rate to be paid directly to me, so if I want to cut corners and keep the money myself, I can. Right now, every penny counts, and I'm used to sleeping just about anywhere.
… Don't look so surprised. Even with good sponsors, I'm still scrambling to pay the bills."
The thought of Michael staying on the grounds overnight normally wouldn't have bothered me one little bit. But nowadays… I could just see it: "Top Dressage Instructor Murdered at Local Horse Farm: details inside."
No one expects trouble until it's too late. I'm sure that woman in Pennsylvania never thought something so horrible would happen to her.
"You're welcome to stay in my apartment," I said. "I don't have a spare bed, but you could use my sleeping bag."
"I have one, but that's okay. I'll be comfortable enough in the trailer."
"It still gets cold at night, especially after midnight."
"I'm used to it."
"You'll be more comfortable in the apartment, even on the floor. In the morning, I'll drive you back whenever you want."
Michael frowned. "Do I have time to squeeze in a ride?" His face was flat, without emotion, but there was an edge to his voice that I hadn't heard before.
"Sure," I said.
"Your apartment it is, then." Michael spun around and walked down the aisle to get his bay horse ready.
He'd hauled two of his horses with him, and he'd only had time to work one of them during his lunch break.
Rachel stepped closer and peered at my face. "Is everything okay? You seem," she shrugged, "I don't know, tense."
"Not me." I jerked my head in Michael's direction. "You're impressed with him, aren't you?"
"He's great. Very insightful. He picks up on everything, the smallest detail. Everyone wa-" She frowned. "You're jealous."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
When I didn't respond, Rachel slid her arms around my waist and pulled me against her. I grabbed a handful of her silky dark hair and kissed her hard on the mouth. There was a subtle shift in her demeanor, and it took me a minute to realize what it was. She may have been taken off guard, but she wasn't scared. Wasn't backed off by so much overt, irrepressible emotion.
She rested her head on my chest. Her mussed hair brushed against my chin. I kissed her sweet-smelling hair and whispered, half afraid to say it out loud, "I love you, Rachel."
She slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were dark and unreadable. "But you don't really know me."
"I know you well enough."
She slid her arms up my back and pulled me down to her level. She kissed me with passion, and I felt relief flood through my body. Maybe I wasn't totally off base after all.
I could have stayed there all night, but Michael, looking somewhat amused, wordlessly led his horse down the aisle and broke the spell.
Rachel stepped back and combed her fingers through her hair. "I'd better go, or I'll end up falling asleep on the drive home."
We walked out of the barn and headed down the lane. As we stepped beyond the protection of the buildings, a westerly breeze cut across the parking lot. Rachel wrapped her sweater tighter around her chest. Before she unlocked the door, she turned to face me, and I took her into my arms and kissed her again.
I wanted her so bad, I hurt, but I needed to stay in control. If all she felt from me was lust, she wouldn't believe in the love, and I wouldn't blame her.
Easier said than done.
She felt perfect in my arms, a perfect fit with all those wonderful curves that are so uniquely female. I stopped before I blew it, but she was smiling just the same. Amazing how the slightest tension, a subtle movement, little more than thought, could be sensed by an observant partner. I said good night before the love turned into good old-fashioned lust.
I watched her taillights disappear around a curve. She hadn't said "I love you." Not yet.
But I could wait.