It seemed a little late to be asking, and a burst of
anger tried to push past her lips, but before she could speak, she realized
something wet was dripping down her face. Katherine touched her forehead,
drawing away drops of blood. "Oh, my God! I'm bleeding."
"It's just a scratch," he replied, studying
her face. "The windshield shattered, but most of the glass stayed intact."
"And the rest is in my face?" she snapped,
looking for somewhere to wipe her fingers.
He let go of her long enough to reach into the car and
pull out the napkins she'd picked up at the Dairy Queen. Instead of handing
them to her, he dabbed at the blood on her face with a surprisingly gentle
hand.
"I don't see any glass. It's really just a small
cut," he said. "How do you feel? Dizzy? Short of breath? Anything
else hurt? Do you want Sam to call for an ambulance?"
Katherine gave a tentative shake of her head, taking a
brief survey of her condition. Aside from a dull ache in her forehead, the rest
of her body seemed to be all right. "I think I'm okay. But what were you
thinking—parking in the middle of the road like that?" she demanded.
"We're well off to the side. My horse was getting
restless. I needed to quiet him down. And it was working, until you bore down
on us like a bat out of hell. You could have killed us!"
"And you could have stopped at a better place."
She raised her voice to match his. "Corning around that curve, I couldn't
possibly see you until the last minute."
"Not when you're doing sixty."
"More like forty. And this is a highway, you
know, not—not a rest stop for horses."
"This
is
horse country, and around here the horses come first."
"Yeah, well, why don't you go back to your horse
then?"
"I think I'll do that." He strode away, his
gait as brisk as his voice, and while she'd wanted him to go, now that he'd
gone, she felt strangely lost.
Focusing on him had been far easier than looking at
the rental car tilted awkwardly into a ditch. She had no idea if it would run,
even if she could get it out. Suddenly it was all too much, and Katherine sank
down to the ground right where she was.
* * *
"She
don't look so good, Zach." Sam Jamison pushed back the brim of his
Wildcats baseball hat and squinted at the woman sitting on the ground.
"She's fine," Zach snapped.
Sam didn't look convinced. There was a frown across
his normally cheerful square face, and the laugh lines that ran like a map
across his weathered brown skin were pulled taut against his cheekbones.
"You sure?" Sam asked doubtfully. "She
looks shaken up to me."
Zach respected Sam's instincts where horses were
concerned. Sam could tell when a filly was yanking his chain or a colt was
testing his patience, but he was a soft touch where people were concerned,
especially women.
"She has a tiny nick on her forehead. That's it.
I'm more concerned about Rogue."
"He's okay. See for yourself."
Zach slid into the trailer and searched the big black
horse for any bruises or scratches.
Rogue tossed his head and stomped his feet, complaining once again about his
confinement in the trailer, but otherwise he looked fine. They were less than
three weeks away from the biggest race of Rogue's life, the Kentucky Derby, and
they simply couldn't afford an injury or a setback now.
"Okay, you big ugly baby. No more knocking around
back here, all right? We need to get you home in one piece."
Rogue nuzzled Zach's hand with his nose. Zach reached
into a burlap bag and pulled out a carrot, feeding it to Rogue with a gentle
hand.
"I know you're tired. We all are. It's been a
hell of a year. You did good at Keeneland. If you hadn't slipped coming out of
the gate, you would have had first. We're going to work on that this week,
because you can't afford another stumble. We are so close to making all our
dreams come true." He scratched Rogue's nose and saw the horse's ears perk
up to listen to his quiet words. "We're going to show this town. Hell, we're
going to show the whole damn world that we don't take shit from anyone. We won't
be left behind, not ever again," he whispered, knowing he was talking
about more than a race.
Rogue whinnied, as if to reassure his owner that he
understood. Zach smiled to himself. They'd been on the same wavelength since he'd
picked Rogue up at a yearling sale. Unproven bloodlines in the dam, not to
mention Rogue's offbeat appearance and high spirits, had brought Rogue's price
into Zach's range. And Zach had known as soon as he laid eyes on the rangy,
long-legged colt that this was the horse he wanted.
This horse, which everyone else had overlooked, was
already drawing attention with its unexpected successes. The racing world,
especially that of the
Zach could do so well. But their arguments were losing ground with each
victory.
In a few weeks, Rogue would quiet even the harshest
critics with a win in the
and Zach would get the recognition, the respect, he deserved. No more doors
slammed in his face, no more scornful looks from the folks in town. No more
being on the outside. He was going to the inner circle—the
winner's
circle.
And no one was going to stop him.
Rogue nudged Zach in the chest. "We'll be home in
a few minutes, boy," Zach said, giving him one last pat. "As soon as
I get this city girl on her way."
"That city girl looks like she's about to faint,"
Sam said from the van's doorway. "You better get on out here."
Zach stepped out of the trailer and pulled the door
shut behind him. He looked at the woman sitting on the ground, her head resting
in her hands. She was a tiny thing; she'd barely come up to his chin. Not that
she'd let him intimidate her. She'd given as good as she got. Maybe he shouldn't
have yelled at her, but dammit, she'd almost destroyed the dream of a lifetime.
When he'd seen her car come around that corner… The thought of it sent his
pulse racing again.
And all because she wasn't paying attention. Zach
tried to harden his heart against the sight of the slender figure slumped on
the ground. But he could still remember the shock in her big blue eyes when she'd
discovered she was bleeding. He cleared his throat, struggling to rein in his
wayward thoughts.
He'd always been a sucker for beautiful blondes, and
this one was as soft and sexy as they came in a silky purple and red blouse
that hugged her breasts, form-fitting black slacks, and ridiculously
impractical high-heeled black sandals. She was all woman and all wrong, he
reminded himself. He'd been down this road before—and he wouldn't go down it
again.
"Maybe we ought to take her to the hospital,"
Sam said, rubbing his jaw with one hand.
Zach frowned. "I don't think she needs a
doctor—maybe a driving instructor."
"She's a sweet thing, isn't she? Reminds me of
someone—but I can't think who."
"That sweet thing almost killed Rogue."
"But she didn't. It's all about inches, my boy.
You can win by an inch, lose by an inch, and survive by an inch. Figured you'd
know that by now." Sam sent him a knowing smile. "You can't leave her
here. Wouldn't be the right thing to do."
"Since when do I worry about doing the right
thing?"
"Since now. She won't be driving that car any
time soon, that's for sure. I don't expect she'll get off this road in anything
but a tow truck."
"Oh, hell, like I need this right now." Zach
ran his hand through his hair and stared at the latest problem to erupt in his
life. He was so close to getting everything he wanted, he could almost taste
it. Thirty-four years of struggling, of climbing out of the darkness of his
childhood, to finally have something, to be somebody, and he wouldn't let anyone
get in the way.
"No harm's done," Sam reminded him. "How
about I get Rogue on home, and you stay with the woman? Unless you're afraid of
a little thing like her."
"Yeah, right."
"I already called for help. Tow truck should be
here in a few minutes. Now, be nice to her, you hear?"
Be nice? Zach still felt like wringing the woman's
pretty neck. He walked over to where she was sitting and squatted down next to
her. "You okay?" he asked gruffly.
She lifted her head. Her eyes were watery, but she
wasn't crying, and he saw a gleam of bravado in those baby blues. "I'm
fine, thank you. I thought you'd be gone by now."
"I thought someone better stay with you in case
you pass out or something."
"What about your precious horse?"
"Sam will take him home. The tow truck is on its
way. Do you need an ambulance, a doctor?"
"No, I'm all right. A tow truck is all I need, I
guess."
Zach looked over at Sam, who was waiting by the
trailer. He gave him the thumbs-up sign and watched as Sam got into the trailer
and drove away. Then he looked back at the woman in front of him. She was
staring at her car in bemusement
"Do you think they'll be able to get it out?"
she asked.
"Yeah, but I wouldn't plan on driving it."
She sighed. "I appreciate your staying. For some
reason, I didn't think you'd be helping me." She looked at him again, a
challenge in her eyes, in the tilt of her chin.
"Haven't you ever heard of southern hospitality?"
"I've heard of it. I just haven't seen any."
"Ouch."
She scowled at him, then scrambled to her feet and brushed
the dirt off of her pants. She strode over to the car and yanked open the door
to the backseat.
"Oh, thank goodness," she said.
Zach got up and walked over to the car, expecting to
see her reaching for her makeup case, but the large cedar chest in the backseat
was obviously not filled with cosmetics. "What's that?"
She patted the top of the chest with a loving hand. "This
is my past and maybe—just maybe my future."
"Huh?" Zach took her arm and pulled her
around so she was looking at him. He held up three fingers. "How many
fingers do you see?"
"Three and I'm not hallucinating."
"If you say so." He let go of her arm. "Where
are you headed?"
"
He felt his gut tighten. "Why?"
She seemed taken aback by his question. "Why not?"
"It's not exactly a hub of nightlife."
"I'm not looking for nightlife. Although—do you
know of a place called Golden's Grill?"
Zach hesitated, feeling a chill run through his body.
He didn't like the look in her eyes. She certainly hadn't come from wherever
she'd come from to go to Golden's Grill.
"I know Golden's," he said reluctantly.
Her mouth blossomed into a sparkling, hopeful smile
that stole his breath away. "Then it really exists. I hoped it would still
be there."
"Why do you want to go to Golden's?"
"I'm looking for someone."
"Who?"
When she didn't answer right away, a sense of
uneasiness crept up Zach's spine. She was here to cause trouble. He could feel
it in his bones. And the last thing he needed was more trouble.
"My father," she said slowly.
Damn. He knew he shouldn't have asked. But she was
staring at him, waiting for the next question, and he couldn't seem to stop it
from crossing his lips. "Who is your father?"
"I don't know."
"If you don't know, then how are you going to
find him?"
She hesitated. "Maybe you could help me."
"Me? No way." He uttered a short harsh
laugh. "I don't look for fathers, mine or anyone else's. In my experience,
the best family is no family." He stared down the empty highway. "Where
the hell is that tow truck?"
Chapter
2