Bluegrass Peril (8 page)

Her mouth snapped shut. She clutched the mug with both hands and hesitated, clearly holding back something. Becky remained silent, confident that given the opportunity, whatever Isabelle had to say would spill forth.

The woman’s gaze rose to meet with Becky’s. “Neal would have made a wonderful father. I know he would.”

Staring into the mournful dark eyes, Becky’s jaw went slack. What was she saying?

“Isabelle, are you pregnant?”

Isabelle’s chin trembled as she nodded. “I know it was soon, and we didn’t plan for this to happen. I planned to tell Neal that night. Then he didn’t show up for our date, and he didn’t answer his phone. I didn’t sleep at all, worrying that he’d found out about the baby and was angry with me. Which was silly, I know, because no one knows except me, but I couldn’t imagine why he would stand me up. Then I read yesterday’s paper.”

She broke down again, deep sobs racking her body as she drooped over the table. Becky lifted the hot tea mug out of harm’s way and laid a hand on her arm. What could she say? She knew no words of comfort equal to this woman’s devastating circumstance.

After a moment the sobbing eased and Isabelle raised her head. This time she sipped the warm tea Becky pushed toward her, and as she did her tears quieted.

“What will you do?”

Isabelle drew a deep breath. “I’ll raise our baby alone. Father will be furious when I tell him. He may even throw me out.” She lifted her chin. “If he does, I’ll get a job. I went to college. Surely someone will hire me.”

Becky hoped she was right. She knew all too well the trials in store for a mother struggling to raise her children alone. It was certainly a different life from the one Isabelle enjoyed now, with her Mercedes and her rich father.

She reached across the table to cover Isabelle’s hand with her own. “You’ll be in my prayers.”

The woman blinked, and then her features softened. “Thank you.”

S
cott steered the boys toward the barn. He glanced backward and felt like a couple of cement blocks had been lifted off his chest at the sight of Becky and Isabelle Keller disappearing through the office door. Thank goodness Becky had arrived before the weepy heiress.

“Was that lady sad?”

Both boys watched him with round, dark eyes and solemn expressions. They looked a lot alike, enough that they might be mistaken for one another at a quick glance. But when he looked closer, Scott saw that the one who introduced himself as Tyler was a little taller, and Jamie’s face was more slender. And thank goodness Becky didn’t dress them alike. Jamie wore a red nylon ski jacket, and his brother an electric-blue one.

Tyler shoved his brother’s shoulder. “Duh, stupid. Why else would she be crying?”

Jamie rounded on him, anger blazing in his eyes. “Don’t push me, Tyler. Mommy said not to fight.”

Scott stepped forward and looked down on both of them, taking advantage of his intimidating height to forestall a scuffle. “If you’re going to fight, you’ll have to go in the house with the women. I can’t have you upsetting the horses.”

Eyes wide, they both nodded. Scott addressed Jamie. “Yes, I think that lady was sad. She must have known Mr. Haldeman.” He snapped his mouth shut. What had Becky told her sons about Haldeman’s death? Better to keep quiet than to say anything that might confuse them.

The edges of Jamie’s mouth drooped. “I don’t like it when ladies cry. It makes me upset.”

Out of the mouths of babes. Scott glanced toward the back door of the house before nodding at Jamie. “Me, too.”

He stepped into the barn, the boys and Sam following. He picked up the pouch into which he’d placed the various morning medications that needed to be administered.

“Shotgun!” Tyler sprinted across the dirt floor.

Jamie raced behind him. “No fair! I want to ride up front.”

“Too bad.” Tyler leaped onto the cart’s front bench, and smirked at his brother. “I called shotgun first.”

Did they argue like this all the time? Scott hadn’t been blessed with brothers, and his only sister was six years older. When they were kids he liked to pester her, of course, but they never really fought. She would have squashed him like a bug.

“Nobody gets shotgun.” He let his stern gaze slide from Jamie to Tyler. “Except Sam. That’s his seat.”

Tyler pouted for a second, but then shrugged and climbed over the seat back to the bench that faced the rear of the cart. Scott hefted the bag of feed he’d filled earlier and deposited it on the floorboard in the front. Jamie climbed up beside his brother.

“Up here, Sam.” He slid behind the steering wheel and patted the bench. The dog leaped up to stand on the seat, then began licking the back of both boys’ heads. Grinning at their laughter, Scott guided the cart through the barn and out the back door.

The warm sunlight dazzled his eyes, but a cool breeze still held a latent trace of winter as it blew the scent of sweet hay into his face. He buttoned the collar of his denim jacket and eyed the fencing as he steered between the paddocks. The top plank on his left would need to be replaced soon; Rusty had done a number on it. Since he had read through all the files concerning the stallions’ diets, he knew the horse didn’t have a mineral deficiency. He was probably just bored. Scott made a mental note to spray the fence with Chew Stop and to check Rusty’s mouth for splinters.

He halted the cart beside Gadsby’s feed bucket. The boys and Sam leaped to the ground as the gelding caught sight of them and trotted across the grass in their direction.

“Wow, look at him!” Jamie’s eyes grew round as Gadsby neared. “He’s a giant horse.”

Tyler propped a foot on the bottom fence rail and, with a hand on his hip, spoke with authority to his brother. “He’s not a giant. He’s regular size. Isn’t he, Mr. Lewis?”

Scott eyed the horse. “He’s good-sized, but he’s not a giant.”

Tyler leveled a smirk on Jamie. “Told you.”

Scott opened the top of the bag and grabbed the scoop. “He is a movie star, though.”

“Wow.” Jamie eyed Gadsby with awe. “What movie was he in?”

Scott emptied the scoop into the bucket, then added a second. “
Seabiscuit.
It’s about a famous racehorse from a long time ago. You should ask your mom to rent it for you. It’s a good story, and you’ll see Gadsby.”

“Gadsby. That’s a great name.” Admiration flooded Tyler’s voice as he gazed on the happily munching horse. His hand rose, but halted just outside the fence as he looked up at Scott. “Does he care if I touch him?”

Scott hesitated. Gadsby was one of the gentler horses in residence at the Pasture, but no sense taking chances. “In a minute, when he finishes eating.”

The boys nodded, and they all watched as Gadsby chewed. The cool morning air seemed to magnify the sounds of the horse’s teeth grinding the fiber. The sunlight gleamed on the smooth lines of his back and turned his coat a deep auburn.

“Gadsby is what’s called blood bay,” he told the boys, “because his coat is that rich, red color. And you see the way his mane, tail and the lower part of his legs are darker? Those are called dark points.”

Jamie, far more cautious than his brother, eased up to the fence beside Tyler, his gaze fixed on Gadsby. “You’re smart about horses, aren’t you?”

Grinning, Scott ruffled his hair. “I’ve learned a few things. I’ve been around them since I was younger than you.”

Two pastures away, Bull called toward them with an impatient whinny. Toward the front of the farm, Fortune answered. Everybody was hungry this morning.

“I wish we had a horse.” Tyler leaped off the bottom plank and ran over to the golf cart. “Can I feed the next one?”

“Don’t you want to pet Gadsby when he finishes eating?”

The boy shrugged. “He takes too long.”

Scott shook his head. The kid had the attention span of a Chihuahua. “Okay, let’s get moving. Yes, you can feed the next one.” Jamie’s mouth opened, and Scott spoke before he could complain. “They get two scoops, so you can each do one.”

He climbed up in the golf cart and waited for Sam to settle beside him before releasing the brake.

As the cart rolled forward, Tyler shoved a hand into the air. “I’m first.”

“No fair!”

Scott heaved a sigh.

When Becky followed a much calmer Isabelle through the back door, a flash of fluorescent green whizzed within a few inches of her head and bounced off the doorjamb. Startled, she threw her hands up to protect her face. A blur of yellow fur zoomed by her.

“Sorry, Mommy!”

From across the yard, Tyler turned a guilty grin her way as Sam retrieved the tennis ball and bounded toward him.

She leveled a frown on her son. “Young man, you’ve got to be more careful. That almost hit the glass. And me.”

He ducked his head, then raced after the dog to try to wrestle the ball out of his mouth, Jamie running after them. At least they were both getting a lot of exercise today, running in the yard with Sam. Maybe tonight they’d go to sleep early.

Scott left his position near the barn and crossed the driveway as Becky followed Isabelle to her car.

Clutching her sunglasses, the heiress took a step toward him. “Mr. Lewis, I hope you’ll forgive my earlier behavior.”

Scott shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “No apologies necessary, ma’am. I’m sorry for, uh, your loss.” He shot a quick glance at Becky, a clear plea for rescue.

Hiding a smile, she stepped forward and took Isabelle’s slim hand in hers. “Good luck. Don’t forget, I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

The woman’s smile wavered, but she held on to her composure. “Thank you. For everything.”

She slid into the Mercedes, but before she shut the door she looked out over the paddocks. Then she directed a trembling smile toward them. “Goodbye.”

Scott moved forward to stand beside Becky as the car backed onto the road and then pulled away. A bird in a branch overhead scolded when they walked beneath a thickly leafed sugar maple toward the boys.

“I guess she was upset about Haldeman.” Scott’s statement held a question.

Becky nodded. “She’s in love with him.”

“With Haldeman?” Disbelief twisted his features.

Sam raced by them as they reached the edge of the driveway, the boys hot on his trail, shrieking with laughter.

“Why do you say it like that?

He watched the boys romping in the grass. “I wouldn’t think Haldeman was the type to appeal to a rich heiress like her.”

“Well, he did. And apparently the feeling was mutual.”

Scott’s gaze slid sideways, skeptical. “I find that even harder to believe. If he was in love with Isabelle Keller, why was Kaci Buchannan dropping earrings in his sofa?”

Tyler caught up with the dog and threw both arms around his neck to restrain him while Jamie pried the ball out of his mouth. Becky watched her sons, struggling to come up with a plausible explanation in Isabelle’s favor.

“Neal wouldn’t want to be rude to Kaci,” she said slowly. “She’s too prominent.”

Scott snorted a laugh. “You mean she’s too rich.”

“Isabelle is rich, too. At least, her father is.”

Scott lifted a shoulder. “Yes, but Kaci is beautiful as well as rich.”

Anger flared on behalf of her new friend. At least, she hoped that was the reason. She still felt a bit of antagonism toward Kaci, the arrogant blonde.

“Beauty is more than looks. Apparently Neal recognized that.” She snapped her jaw shut.

He twisted his head to stare at her, surprise coloring his features. “She really made an impression on you. What did she say to make you defend her like this?”

Becky watched the boys a moment before answering. Jamie held the ball high above his head, clutched in a white-fingered grip, while Sam sat patiently in front of him, his stare fixed on his toy. Finally Jamie threw it, and then wiped his hand on his jeans as the dog raced across the yard in hot pursuit.

“I guess I just feel sorry for her.” She glanced at Scott, then away again. “She’s pregnant with Neal’s child.”

Scott gave a low whistle. “That must have been a shock.”

“Neal didn’t know. Isabelle was going to tell him the night he was killed.”

“I didn’t mean Neal.” He pivoted on his boots to peer at her. “How much do you know about her father, Mr. Keller?”

“I know he’s rich. He’s in the paper all the time.”

“Yeah, and did you catch that article about him a few weeks ago?”

Becky knew the one he meant. “One of his employees accused him of assault.”

“That’s the one.” He shoved a hand in his jeans pocket. “Apparently that wasn’t the first time he’s been accused of slugging an employee, but nothing ever comes of it. I thought at the time that the guy making the accusation would probably drop the whole thing and get a big check in return.”

They stood in silence. Sam’s excited barking sounded loud against the backdrop of a distant whinny from the pasture across the street. Becky battled guilt as she watched Tyler toss the ball high into the air. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? What a lousy friend she turned out to be.

And what if Isabelle’s father was angry with her? If he hit his employees, was he the kind of man who would hit his daughter? Or her lover?

“Whoa!” Scott took off at a run.

Startled, Becky looked after him. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the tennis ball bounce inside Alidor’s paddock. Sam, well trained by Neal, didn’t go after the ball but stood obediently on this side of the fence. Tyler raced across the grass, his little legs pumping as hard as he could push them. From the far side of the paddock, the fiery stallion noticed the new object in his territory and started to run toward it.

“Don’t go in there!”

Thankfully, Tyler stopped when Scott shouted. He turned a question-filled face toward him, but then stepped backward as Alidor arrived at the tennis ball and blew a loud snort. The stallion tossed his head and pawed at the ball.

Scott came to a stop beside Tyler and put a hand on his shoulder. His voice carried back to her. “Alidor doesn’t like it when strangers go in his paddock. I found that out the other day. Let’s see if we can find another tennis ball for Sam. I’ll get that one later, when there aren’t so many people around to upset him.”

Jamie fell into step beside them as they headed toward the barn, but peeled off to come toward her. “I’m hungry.”

Becky glanced at her watch. Eleven-ten. “You should have eaten more breakfast. It’s not lunchtime yet.”

“Actually,” said Scott, giving her a sheepish smile, “I’m kind of hungry myself. You interested in grabbing a hamburger somewhere?”

“Yeah!” Tyler ran to her side. “Please, Mommy?”

Becky’s throat closed around any words she might have tried to force out. Was Scott offering to take them out? No, better not assume that. He was probably just suggesting a friendly lunch, Dutch treat. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford a restaurant, not even fast food.

“I have peanut butter sandwiches in the car.” She didn’t look at Scott’s face, too embarrassed to claim poverty. “Remember our picnic at the park, boys?”

“We’re gonna feed the ducks,” Jamie informed him.

From the corner of her eye she saw Scott shrug. “Peanut butter keeps. And I think Sam would love to go to the park after lunch and chase a few ducks.”

She looked up, and her pulse danced when he smiled into her eyes. This good-looking man actually wanted to spend his Saturday afternoon with her
and
her boys? Either they’d behaved themselves better than she could have hoped while she was inside, or he found her…

No. She wouldn’t go there. He probably just didn’t want to sit around the Pasture alone all afternoon.

She found herself nodding, and the twins let out a yelp of delight. How much could a burger cost, anyway?