Faith Hope and Love (A Homespun Romance) (8 page)

Lifting his hand to a man by the gate he pulled up directly in front of the red building.  The word office was picked out in six inch high white letters. 

A man passed them raising a hand in casual salute.  The gorgeous animal with him had a black coat that looked like liquid coal.  Rachel took a step back as the horse went by, feeling intimidated by its size.  She watched as it was led into what was obviously a large stable.  Looking around she noticed there were six of the large buildings, each with a number clearly marked on it. 

Luke gestured towards the cottages nestling in the mountainside and a long building that reminded her of army barracks, she'd seen once.  "Staff quarters.  We have a little community of our own here, even a small store."

Rachel wet her lips.  The feeling that she was on the set of a movie intensified.  Maybe she was in the middle of one of those dreams that left her soaked with sweat and terrified to go back to sleep.  She hadn't had one for a long time now.  Looking at Luke she tried to smile.

"We have stud stallions here t
hat are syndicated for over thirty million dollars each."  Luke made his voice as matter of fact as possible.  The look in Rae's eyes made him uneasy.  Maybe he should have given her a hint of all this earlier.  "Each yearling foal costs anywhere between half a million and a couple of million dollars." 

"Is security a problem?"  A vague memory of a television show where a horse's markings had been changed and the animal smuggled out of the country, surfaced.

"The whole area is under video camera surveillance as well as being patrolled by our own security men.  Tom, the man at the gate, knows everyone who works here."  He didn't tell her the two men working in the grounds around the house were there for security reasons as well.  Or that the rule of not riding alone was to ensure her safety.  Or that telephoned threats were part of the business. 

"What is a syndicated stallion?" 

She knew so little about thoroughbreds.  The fact that breeding them was a multi-million dollar enterprise was just beginning to sink in.  And to think she had wanted Gordie. 

"We buy stallions with good racing records and shares are sold in each one's breeding career,
” Luke explained.  "Each shareholder has the opportunity of breeding one mare to the stallion he has a share in, every year.  If a shareholder does not have a mare, he is paid a million dollars, which is the approximate cost of one breeding for anyone who is not a shareholder these days."

"I see."  She didn't.  Not really.  But she had the main picture.  Money, money and more money.

Luke was a rich man in his own right.  Very, very rich.  The fact that he still worked at a regular job was from choice not necessity.  What on earth had his reaction been when he had heard she was taking him to court over custody of Gordie?  He must have known the outcome of that farce in court before she left Bangladesh.

Theresa had mentioned something yesterday about it being wonderful the way things had turned out.  Gordie was where he belonged and she was part of the family as well.  They had all been worried for a while there. 

Rachel's fists clenched of their own accord.  Did everyone here know about her pathetic attempt to gain custody of Gordon Summers? 

She must have outdone the Lucy show for laughs per minute.

CHAPTER 5

They were at the door of the first stable.  Rachel followed Luke into it.  Any novice could tell no money had been spared in here either.  The spotlessly clean place was a fitting environment for the majestic horses full of restless energy. 

"Stable A is where we keep our stud stallions."  As Luke stopped by a stall to pat one animal's broad forehead.  Rachel kept well back.  She wasn't sure how these horses would react to strangers.  She wasn't about to risk finding out.  "They each have their own paddocks as well."

"Their own paddocks?" 

"Yes, that's the best way for stallions.  Very rarely do we put two stallions together.  They might fight and injure each other.  Sometimes a stallion has a mare or two with him in his paddock but most of them are alone.  In addition to running on their own they are ridden regularly to keep them in top condition."

Rachel stared at the bay that was rolling its eyes at her, glad she didn't have the job of riding one of these huge creatures.

"The few that are inside are either waiting for the vet or are being kept in because they're not well," Luke explained rubbing the bay's broad forehead.  "We don't take any chances with them."

"Not," Rachel agreed silently, "when they're a few million apiece."

At a rough estimate there were twenty stalls in here.  Multiply that by twenty million and... Rachel's head began to spin.  Whoever kept count of all that money must have to work overtime. 

The horses themselves were magnificent.  She could understand how anyone would find them fascinating.  The ripple of powerful muscles under shiny coats, the majestic arch of the neck, the regal bearing, put them in a class of their own.  Every movement was like poetry in motion. 

A tiny sound at odds with the pawing of hooves, the snorts and neighs caught Rachel's attention.  Tilting her head she listened.

Luke turned to her in surprise as she clutched his sleeve.  "Am I hearing things or is there a goat in here?"

Luke nodded, the
half-smile on his face making her hot in spite of the cool December morning.  She tried to snatch her hand back but he held it with his other hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world as they walked to another stall further down.  There, tied next to the largest stallion Rachel had seen so far, was a tiny black and white goat.  Unperturbed by its surroundings, or the creature twenty times its weight moving around beside it, the goat nibbled at the hay in the haynet.

Rachel's eyes rounded in wonder. 

"Meet Rainbow's End," Luke said casually.  "He retired as a four year old after winning two and a half million dollars on the racetrack.  When Rob brought him home he just wouldn't settle.  Kept throwing himself around and we were afraid he'd hurt himself.  His last owner was out of the country on a ‘no phones, emails or texts’ vacation and we couldn't get through to his trainer.  Finally Mum suggested bringing Nellie in from the fields.  The change in Rainbow's End was dramatic.  He'll do anything as long as Nellie stays with him."

Rachel stared at the odd couple.  It was strange to think an animal as strong and magnificent as this thoroughbred in front of them could be so utterly
dependent on the tiny goat for its happiness.  It reminded her of the parable of the lion and the mouse.  Of strength that had nothing to do with size or muscle.  Of needing and being needed.

A groom came looking for Luke with a message from Juan.  A Mr. Callaghan from Ireland wanted to talk to him. 

"I won't be long," he told Rachel and she wondered if she had imagined the note of resignation in his voice. 

Wandering out to the nearest paddock Rachel leaned against the white fence, enjoying the sun on her back, the breeze in her face.  There were about six yearlings in this paddock, their actions reminding her of children at play.

"Good morning."

She turned and smiled at Jason Harrington, the farm accountant.  He had come up to the house yesterday afternoon with Juan Rodriguez to meet her.  Jason and Luke had gone to school together.  Now, Rachel wondered if the visit had been to check her out.  Evidently she had passed muster because the smile accompanying the greeting held no reservations.

"Good morning," Rachel returned.

"Seeing how we work?"

"Yes.  Luke's showing me around but he got a telephone call and had to go in for a bit." 

"Lucky for me," Jason's smile widened.  "Want to take a closer look at the yearlings?"

They were half way to the second paddock when a man passed them carrying a coil of rope and some other equipment. 

"Mojo's a handler," Jason explained.  "He's going to spend some time with Gulliver, our favorite two year old colt."

Though dressed like the other men, the handler's shoulder length hair and pronounced features told Rachel he was at least part Indian.

"How's the leg Mojo?"  Jason asked in passing.

"Not too good, Jason, not too good." 

Rachel couldn't help noticing the pronounced limp the man walked with.

"What's wrong with his leg?"  Rachel asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

"I don't know," Jason shrugged, his eyes on the colt Mojo was signaling to.  "He's been favoring it for days now.  Won't let a doctor look at it.  Says he's treating it himself but it seems to be getting worse."

"I thought the foals were sold as yearlings?"  Rachel's brow creased in a slight frown as she looked at the colt being fitted with a halter.  It looked much bigger than the ones in the next paddock.

"Gulliver's the exception.  He broke his leg last year just before the January sales and Rob wanted to make sure it healed properly.  If he had been pushed into training too early it might have resulted in another break so Rob refused to sell him.  Mojo cared for him and when he was completely healed he began to give him some basic training."

"Will he be sold this year?"

The colt was snuffling the man's shoulder,
its actions showing more clearly than any words the rapport between them. 

"I guess so.  We aren't a training farm any longer and that colt is the result of some mighty fine breeding."

Mojo began putting a halter on the horse.  Rachel watched as he tried to get the horse to stand still.  His face had a sallow tinge at odds with the color of his skin.  A grimace of pain squeezed his features as he stepped back.

"That's the position they need in halter class," Jason explained, "the younger they learn the easier it is for them later when they're sold and their regular training begins.  Mojo's trying to get Gulliver to stand on all four feet square and hold his neck and tail high."

It required a great deal of patience.  As Jason watched the colt, Rachel looked at Mojo's face.  The man's forehead beaded with sweat told her all she needed to know.

"He's in pain," she said quietly.  "He has to see a doctor."

Jason looked surprised.  "I told you, he won't go to the doctor."

"Will he let me look at it?

Jason's jaw dropped.  Rachel didn't wait for an answer.  She was on familiar ground now.  Whirling, she went over to Mojo.  Face to face he didn't look as old as she'd thought him to be...he was barely into his twenties and behind the resentment in his gaze she glimpsed uncertainty.

"What's wrong with your leg?"

He spun around to face her as the startled colt took off, annoyance clearly visible on his face, but Rachel didn't budge.

"Nothing," he muttered.  "It's just a boil."

"Where?"

For a minute it looked as if he wasn't going to answer her question.  Jason cleared his throat and with a shrug the man pointed to his thigh.  Rachel's eyes widened as she took in the damp stain on his jeans.  Inky red, it confirmed what she had suspected.

"It's not just a boil.  It looks like an abscess that's ruptured.  The infection in your system is what's causing the pain.  You'll have to have it lanced and drained and go on a course of antibiotics.  I wouldn't be surprised if you have a fever as well."

She leaned forward and put the back of her hand on the man's forehead ignoring his start of surprise.  It was the only thermometer they’d had in the field sometimes and she had become expert at gauging with it. "You're burning up!"

"It's nothing," he said angrily.

"You know what can happen to it if you don't get it treated?"  She could have been discussing the weather with a friend, her tone was so ordinary.  "Your leg will get so bad gangrene might set in.  Is your foolish pride going to make up for the loss of your leg when ten minutes with a doctor will take care of everything?"

Checkmate.
  No one moved or spoke for a few minutes.  Jason swallowed nervously.  Luke had sent him out here to keep Rachel company, not start a field clinic.  He only hoped his report would sound as convincing as her tone. 

"I've seen many men like you," Rachel said softly.  "Cowards.  Big and strong, but scared of being sick, of the very medicine that can heal them."

She had touched a raw nerve alright.  Mojo looked absolutely livid.  His hands clenched into fists as he gritted out, "I'm not scared."

"I'm so glad to hear that.  You have to see a doctor right away."  She turned to Jason.  "Can someone take him down to have his leg attended to?  I can change the dressing for him from tomorrow."

The Indian turned and stomped off without a word.  Jason followed, his eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hairline.  He was back in a few minutes.

"It wasn't just fear motivating him to keep on working," Rachel said thoughtfully.  "What was the other reason, do you know?"

"Well," Jason pushed the Stetson he was never without to the back of his head and said, "it could be that he's on daily wages and if he doesn't work, he doesn't get paid.  Besides the men on the regular payroll have medical benefits but the daily workers don't."

"That's not fair," the look she shot him boded ill for stupid rules.  "Anyone can see he's really ill.  Exceptions have to be made in cases like this."

"Cases like what?"

Neither of them had heard Luke come up behind them.  Rachel explained about Mojo finishing with, "Can't you bend the rules for a case like Mojo's, Luke?  Anyone can see the man's in dire need of medical attention.  Jason says if you insist he rest for a day he'll just go somewhere else and work.  It's not fair either, that someone on minimum wage should have to pay his own medical bill."

She'd turned into a tigress over a stranger's cause?  Luke looked at her flashing eyes and heaving chest and wondered if it would always take someone else's needs to make Rae ready to take on the world.  Would she ever learn to ask for what she herself needed out of life?

"Call Dr
. Kenton and tell him to bill the Diamond Bar for Mojo's treatment," he told Jason.  "Then tell Mojo he can have sick time off with pay.  If any of the other men grumble, tell them the change applies to them as well as long as they can produce a certificate from a doctor.  Let Juan know what I've just told you."

"Thank you."  Rachel looked away from Luke at the yearlings not wanting him to see the wealth of emotion in her eyes.  She wasn't sure it was only gratitude he would find there. 

He wondered what she would have done if he'd refused to change things.  Probably paid for Mojo's treatment herself.  Luke had never met anyone who cared less about money.  The blank check he had found on his study table attested to that.

Jason told Juan later, "You should have seen her.  I wish I'd had a video camera with me.  The powder puff look is absolutely misleading.  Beneath it she packs a punch like a heavyweight champion.  Mojo's glare didn't scare her a bit.  I think if a sick rattler came along she would just tell it to hush its noise, while she looked at it."

Behind the house a trail wound through the trees and led up a slope to a grove of evergreens.  Beyond the first row were some arranged in a perfect circle.  Rachel sank on to the fallen tree trunk that served as a seat and rested against the trunk of another.  This had to be the most beautiful spot in the world.  She had a hundred and eighty degree view from here.  On the horizon she could see the Pacific.  Below her lay the house.  Two hundred yards from it a small stream meandered into the distance.  She loved to come here to watch the sunsets, the reflection of the colors mirrored by the stream.  The next time she went to town she would invest in a camera…these pictures would be perfect for her memory book.

Today though her mind wasn't on the view.  It was time to reconsider her position.

She had been here a whole week now and each day it seemed like one of the bricks in her careful defense crumbled.  Luke was moving in, too dangerously close, unleashing feelings she hadn’t known existed.  She was closer to being seriously hurt than she had ever been in her life.  It was time to take a dispassionate look at what was happening, stop it before it got out of hand.

What was happening was she was dangerously close to forgetting every harsh lesson she had ever learned.  Of letting herself get accustomed to things, of believing again. 

That wasn't all.  For someone who till very recently had worked twenty hour days she was getting so used to Hannah's cosseting, and life in the lap of luxury, it was going to be hard to get back to normal.