Conflicted (Everlasting Love) by Tracy Wolff (4)

CHAPTER FOUR

DAMN HER TO HELL. Jesse’s booted feet covered the distance from the house to the garden quickly, though he barely noticed where he was going. How could he have been so damn stupid, so goddamn gullible? He’d been softening toward her, thinking he’d made a mistake. Thinking that maybe, if he compromised a little more, things could change.

He tried not to focus on what a complete ass he’d really been. Knowing that he’d been feeling bad about the state of their marriage when all along she’d been hiring his replacement behind his back was enough to make him sick. And not only hadn’t she consulted him about it, but she hadn’t even had the courtesy to say a word about it. Not one damn word.

That pretty much showed what she thought of him, didn’t it? Not even the courtesy of a boss/employee conference to tell him that she didn’t think things were working out any longer, that she had gone and hired a new trainer to start in January. January—one month from now. One month, he assumed, so that he could show the new guy the ropes. Like hell.

He’d known—goddammit, he had known—when she’d come back from the races in Kentucky that something was up. Known that she was hiding something from him. Again. When he’d confronted her about it she’d laughed at him. Told him there was nothing wrong and that he was blowing things out of proportion.

Damn her!

It was the secrecy, more than anything else, that had made him think about divorce. He couldn’t take the deceit any longer, nor could he live with the knowledge that his wife wouldn’t confide in him. How had their marriage become such a sham when she was all he’d ever wanted?

He wanted to throw things, needed to hit something, was almost desperate to pick a fight just so he’d have something to throttle. Fury coursed through him, so powerful that it made him shake, nearly brought him to his knees.

It wasn’t that she’d replaced him. Or, he corrected himself with habitual honesty, it wasn’t just that she’d replaced him. It was that she had done so in such an incredibly devious way. That she hadn’t told him. That she hadn’t cared enough to worry about how and when he would find out.

Had she planned on telling him at all? Or was she simply going to bring Tom onto the ranch and expect Jesse not to notice? Maybe she thought the fifteen years he had on her had suddenly made him senile?

He stared blindly at the perfectly decorated garden, barely seeing the hundreds of chairs arranged in rows or the flower bedecked arbor where his daughter would say her vows in a little more than three hours. With a roar of agony he lashed out, kicking the chair next to him and starting a chain reaction that knocked it into the chair next to it and so on, until half the row lay in disarray.

Cursing, he bent to pick up the chair he’d originally kicked, only to feel his legs go out from under him. Weak-kneed, shaking, he sank into the nearest upright seat, his head in his hands.

“Dad, are you all right?”

Stiffening at the sound of Dakota’s voice, Jesse’s heart rate accelerated as he tried to compose himself.

“I’m fine. Just a stupid accident.” He stood stiffly, bent to pick up one of the fallen chairs.

“It didn’t look like an accident to me,” his son answered as he helped set the chairs to rights. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Jesse reached over and ruffled Dakota’s hair as he had done throughout his son’s childhood. “Long day, that’s all.”

“The wedding hasn’t even started yet. You getting old or something?” Dakota teased as he set the last chair back onto its feet.

“Must be.”

“Nah. Not you.”

Dakota leaned in, gave him a strong one-armed hug and Jesse found himself swallowing the lump in his throat. Was he really considering going to Kentucky—leaving not only his wife but his children behind? He shook his head to clear the cobwebs that suddenly made thinking impossible.

“You need help with anything?”

Jesse heard the words from far away, though it took him a minute to fight through his emotions enough to comprehend them.

When he didn’t answer right away, Dakota grabbed his biceps. “Are you all right? Dad?”

He shook it off, all of it—or at least buried it. The anger, the pain, the utter exhaustion. He could pull them out later and examine them when this day was over and his children were back to living their own lives.

“I’m fine. Just a little out of sorts.” He forced a grin and headed toward the stables. “I can’t believe I’m losing your sister. First Rio then Willow. Pretty soon it’ll be you.”

Dakota laughed as he fell into step next to his father, a careful arm still braced around Jesse’s shoulder. “No way. Now that Willow’s getting married and Rio and Brooke are talking about giving you your first grandchild, I figure I’m off the hook for a long while.”

“I wouldn’t count on that. You know your mother.”

Dakota laughed. “I do. Well enough to know that she’s so wrapped up in the ranch that she won’t give me and my single status more than a passing thought for the next few years.”

Jesse’s smile was bitter. “Isn’t that the truth?”

They walked toward the racing stables in silence for a few minutes before Dakota asked carefully, “So what was that chair thing all about?”

Jesse flushed as embarrassment hit him again—wasn’t it just his luck that the one time he lost control, his son was around to see it? “Nothing. I’m working through some frustration issues, that’s all.”

“With Mom?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Dad. You two can pretend all you want, but you didn’t raise any stupid kids. We all know something’s up.”

“Nothing is up.”

“Whatever.”

“Dakota.” Jesse’s voice was serious.

“Yes?” Dakota stopped dead at the impatience in his father’s tone.

“When your mother and I need our three children running around in our heads, we’ll let you know. Until then, stay the hell out.”

“Got it,” he said with a rueful grin.

“Good.” Jesse smiled back. “Now I’ve got a couple calls to make. Why don’t you do me a favor and check to make sure every horse in here’s been exercised today?”

“Sure.” Dakota loped off, his long-legged stride taking him effortlessly to the charts at the far end of the stable.

Walking into his office, Jesse picked up the phone and the stack of messages sitting on his desk, prepared to answer the most pressing phone calls before he headed up to the house to get dressed. But he found himself staring at Dakota as he worked, wondering just how obvious he and Desiree had been in the past couple of years.

If Dakota, who lived a couple of hundred miles away and was the least observant of their children, had noticed, what could Rio and Willow be thinking? His heart hurt at the idea that he had been nowhere near as discreet as he had thought he was, that his children had known all along that something was wrong.

But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He’d been worried the divorce would come as a huge shock to them, but maybe they’d been anticipating it for a while. Maybe it had seemed inevitable to everyone but him.

Desiree, despite her protestations of ignorance, had to have known this was coming. Why else would she have hired a new trainer, if she hadn’t expected things to fall apart between them?

Cursing himself and his inability to stop her from hurting him, Jesse turned to the messages and began dialing the phone. After returning the two most important phone calls—one about a horse he wanted to buy for the ranch and the other to an assistant trainer he and Desiree had discussed hiring—he crossed to Wink’s stall and petted the five-year-old stallion.

Peace flowed through him as his hands sunk into the horse’s long, wiry mane. His whole life might be a mess, but this, this was simple. He might not be able to communicate with his wife worth a damn, but at least he could still see what was going on with his horses.

Wink whickered softly, nudging him with his beautiful aristocratic nose. “I know, boy. I’m sorry your schedule’s so off today, but Willow’s getting married and everything’s a bit crazy. Tomorrow will be better, I promise. Tomorrow we’ll get you out for a nice long run, instead of that short little jog they gave you today.”

Would he even be here tomorrow? Next week? Sadness overwhelmed him and he leaned forward, burying his face against the horse’s neck and drawing strength from his old friend. He’d need every bit of strength he could find to get through the wedding and the reception without throttling Desiree.

He stroked the horse for a few minutes before turning away with a sigh. “Are you just about done, Dakota?” he asked. “It’s time to head up to the house.”

“I need a few more minutes, Dad. But go ahead if there’s something you need to do.”

There wasn’t anything he needed to do, but he was unwilling to stand around looking pathetic and useless in front of his youngest son. He should run by the maternity barn and check on M.C. Though he knew everything was going as planned with the very pregnant mare, he’d feel better if he saw her with his own eyes instead of relying on what his assistant trainers told him. She was one of his favorites, after all, and the foal she carried was incredibly important to the Triple H’s future.

Not that the ranch’s future was really any of his business anymore. He crossed the room to stare blindly at the pictures and newspaper clippings Desiree had hung so painstakingly on the wall—here and in the study in the house. Little bits and pieces of the Triple H’s history, little bits and pieces of her marriage. Too bad their feelings for each other weren’t as unchanging as these small scraps of paper.

He was drawn, inexorably, to the one clipping he’d actually mounted on the wall. Desiree had never understood why he’d chosen this story to mount, had asked him to take it down numerous times. But he’d remained firm. Failure, his failure, was as much a part of the Triple H as the successes were. And this failure, his first really big one, still smarted after all these years.

HE LOVED THE SMELL of the track, the scent of horses and popcorn and money combining into a potent cocktail of luck. Jesse took a deep breath, absorbing the scent into his very soul before leaning forward and speaking softly into Crown Rhapsody’s ear.

Always high-strung, today she was so nervous that neither Jesse, nor Herbert—the parrot that was her constant stall companion—could calm her down. Almost as if she, too, knew that this wasn’t just another race. As if she knew that this was it—the race that could bring her everlasting glory and bring Jesse, if nothing else, a chance to relax from the craziness of the quest Big John had set him on nine years before. He was more than ready for a break, the chance for a little bit of peace calling to him as little else ever had.

Hailed as the greatest racehorse since Secretariat, the entire racing community had high hopes for Rhapsody—major newspapers and racing magazines across the country proclaimed that the Triple Crown would be won this year, that the outcome of the Belmont Stakes was a guaranteed certainty. Even the bookies had gotten onboard, offering some of the lowest odds on his horse that Belmont Park had ever seen.

There was no doubt in his mind that Rhapsody was capable of winning this race. She’d won the Derby by almost three lengths, leaving her competition in the dust—literally. The Preakness hadn’t been any harder. She’d taken an early lead and raced to victory nearly unchallenged.

Why then was he so nervous about this race? Why was his stomach knotted and his head pounding as if the fate of the world rested on this one horse’s shoulders? He’d never worried about a race before, had always done his best with breeding and training and left the rest up to the horse. Win some, lose some. That had always been his philosophy, though his horses won many more races than they lost.

But this was different. Desiree was on tenterhooks, thrilled and crazed at the idea of finally bringing the Triple Crown back to her daddy’s ranch. Back to her ranch. Maybe that was where his own anxiety was stemming from—he didn’t want to disappoint her, couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her as the most coveted prize in horseracing slipped through their fingers again.

Taking a few deep breaths, Jesse calmed himself, centered himself, sent himself seeking within the worried and uptight mind of his very high-strung racehorse. He walked with her for a little while—in the manner his mother and grandfather had taught him so many years before. He found her fears and soothed them as best he could, comforting and reassuring her. If only his fears could be soothed as easily.

“It’s time to go,” Desiree’s voice was higher than normal, excitement and nervousness showing on her face as she approached the stables where he and Rhapsody waited.

“She’s ready.” His own voice must have been tighter than he thought because Desiree smiled reassuringly as she laid a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“It’ll be fine, Jesse.”

He turned his head slightly, so that he could see both his wife and Rhapsody—the two most important women in his life today. “Do I look that bad?” he asked.

“Not to the rest of the world, but they don’t know you like I do.” She raised a second hand to his shoulders, began a gentle massage that loosened both his muscles and his stomach.

“Who’d we pull?” he asked, relaxing into the comforting pressure of her hands.

“Bill Daley.” Her voice shimmered with suppressed excitement.

“Big John must be doing cartwheels.”

“Pretty close.”

“I bet. Daley’s the best jockey riding today.”

“This is it, Jesse. I can feel it—Rhapsody and the Triple H are going to make history today.”

“Des—” His voice was low, cautioning.

“I know, I know.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Anything can happen. Nothing’s guaranteed. I get it. I do,” she insisted as he raised a sardonic eyebrow in her direction. “But a girl can hope, can’t she?”

“Open the gate for me, will you?” he asked, avoiding her question because he couldn’t stand to say anything to raise or shatter her hopes. Things would play out how they would and the world would know the results soon enough.

The trip down to the starting gate was chaotic—filled with too many people trying to get a look at the Triple H’s nearly mythical racehorse and too many reporters wanting a last-minute quote. He could feel Rhapsody tensing beside him as her nervousness and discomfort returned tenfold.

Cursing, he shouldered his way through the people as he used every ounce of his gift to keep Rhapsody calm. “She’s losing it,” he muttered to Desiree.

“Just a little farther,” she answered, reaching out a hand to stroke the horse’s neck. “Hang on, girl. We’re almost there.”

Pushing their way through the throngs of excited racegoers, Jesse sighed in relief when he and Desiree finally made it to the starting gate. He’d been to a hell of a lot of races in his life, but he’d never seen this many people milling around behind the scenes. He hadn’t prepared for it, hadn’t prepared Rhapsody for it. He just hoped the horse didn’t pay the price for his miscalculation.

The next few minutes flew by as Rhapsody’s jockey, dressed in the red-and-gold silks of the Triple H, spent a little while talking to the horse before mounting up and getting the horse ready for the small, fenced starting gate that would spring open as soon as the gun went off.

Then it was time to step back, leaving Rhapsody in Bill’s capable hands. Jesse’s stomach churned as he walked away, his left hand clasped tightly in Desiree’s right one. “Daddy’s waiting for us,” she murmured, pulling him toward the box seats.

“I’d rather watch from here.”

“Jesse, no!” She turned to him, disappointment gleaming in her eyes. “It’s hard to see from down here. Plus Daddy and his friends are expecting us. I told him we’d be up as soon as you got Rhapsody settled.”

He started to argue that all he wanted was to be left alone to watch the race in peace. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, one he’d never felt before. Maybe it was just nervousness, maybe it was instinct, but he didn’t think Rhapsody was going to win this race. And if she didn’t, if something went wrong, he’d rather be alone to deal with the fallout. To deal with his failure, when he’d promised his wife that he wouldn’t let her down again.

With a sigh, he draped an arm around her shoulders and let her lead him to the Triple H box. Filled with her father and his cronies, it was loud and crowded and exactly where Jesse didn’t want to be. But Desiree was there, her sweet body pressed lovingly against his, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his tense back.

And so he tried to relax, despite the growing sickness in his stomach. Grabbing a cola—he didn’t drink when one of his horses was racing—he made his way to the front of the air-conditioned box.

He listened as the announcer listed the horses in the race, his mind ticking off each of Rhapsody’s competitors seconds before the names were announced. Mystic would give her the biggest threat by far—nearly as fast and just as graceful, he’d come in second in both the Derby and the Preakness.

But this was a high-stakes race, and every horse in it had the ability to win. Lucky Lily could easily steal the lead, as could Pennywise or Sterling’s Silver.

The gun went off before he could second-guess the results, and adrenaline roared through him as Bill and Rhapsody took an early lead. As they rounded the first curve, Mystic was in second, though Lucky Lily was running a close and threatening third.

Heart pounding, Jesse watched in awe as Rhapsody fought off the pack to remain in first—around the first curve, the straightaway, the second curve, on and on until they’d reached the final stretch. Breath held, hand fiercely clutching Desiree’s, he watched as Rhapsody flew for the finish line, a full length in front of Mystic.

Jesse turned to Desiree, smiled into her excited eyes, and in that one second everything changed. He heard a gasp from the crowd, whirled in time to see Rhapsody stumble and fall a mere five yards from the finish line. Bill jumped clear as the horse hit the ground hard and Jesse watched in horror as Rhapsody rolled, taking down three other horses before she finally came to a stop.

Then he was running, out of the box, down the two flights of stairs to ground level, hurtling over the barrier between the track and the stands. Flashing his all-access badge at the overwhelmed security guards as he flew past, he got to the sight of the collision before any of the other trainers or owners.

The four downed horses—Rhapsody, Pennywise, Serendipity and Sterling’s Silver—were overwrought, screaming in pain and fear. Pennywise had struggled to his feet, but Rhapsody, Serendipity and Sterling were still down.

He approached Rhapsody cautiously, his heart in his throat, and fear a living, breathing monster in his stomach. If she was hurt badly, if she wouldn’t heal, they’d have to put her out of her misery, have to put her down though everything inside of him screamed at the injustice. She was a champion, a purebred, a noble spirit and the thought of killing her—even to save her pain—was anathema to him.

He glanced to the right, saw Bill holding his arm, a grimace of pain on his face as the first round of paramedics hit the field. But much as he liked the jockey, he was more concerned with getting the horses calmed before they hurt themselves or someone else.

Though Sterling was almost completely still, lying on his side and panting harshly, Rhapsody continued to try to struggle to her feet, whinnying in pain with every movement of her front legs.

“Shh, girl,” he murmured as he approached her. “Just let me look at you. Let me check you out, baby, and we’ll get you something for the pain.”

The next few minutes, and hours, passed in a blur. Big John arrived, anger and disappointment evident in his every stride, but Jesse was too busy to give his father-in-law’s state of mind more than a passing thought.

When he finally returned to the hotel after sitting through three sets of X rays and two veterinary exams, all Jesse wanted was a cold shower, a hot meal and some time with his wife. But when he opened the door to their suite, she and Big John were sitting on the couch, talking in low voices.

Conscious of their eyes on him and the sudden stillness of the room, Jesse closed the door behind him and walked slowly into the living room.

“Rhapsody’s going to be fine,” he said into the hostile silence. “Nothing’s broken, but it’ll take her a couple of weeks to recover from the sprains. She was still so nervous that the vet had to tranq her so that she wouldn’t hurt herself. By the time I left she was pretty mellow.”

Big John nodded, abruptly climbing to his feet. “Did you get the chance to look at the films? See what happened?”

“Mystic bit her, just a little nip on her left flank, but you know how sensitive Rhapsody is. It set her off.”

“Shouldn’t she have been trained for that? Expecting it as it happens quite a bit on the racetrack?” Though his voice held no trace of emotion, Jesse could see the accusation on his father-in-law’s face, the misery on Desiree’s.

“I’m not in the habit of walking up behind my horses and biting them, if that’s what you’re asking, John,” Jesse commented.

“Your horses?” Big John answered with a deliberate cruelty. “And here I’ve been under the impression that they were my horses.” He walked to the door. “You marry my daughter and suddenly get delusions of grandeur, Rainwater? Seeing as how it’s been nine years and I still don’t have a Triple Crown winner, I think that takes some nerve.” He slammed out of the hotel room without another word, leaving Jesse standing with his mouth half-open and the first seeds of anger sprouting in his gut.

“What was that all about?” he demanded, turning toward Desiree as rage swept through him. “If Rhapsody hadn’t fallen, he would have had his damn Triple Crown today and everyone knows it.”

“But she did stumble and he doesn’t have the Triple Crown.” Her words were abrupt, her tone almost angry and Jesse stared at her incredulously. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to blame this on me, too?”

Desiree bit her lip, stared at him through confused eyes. “I didn’t say that, Jess. But what exactly do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what you two were talking about when I got here?”

“Nothing,” she spoke quickly, even as she avoided looking directly into his eyes. “We were discussing what had happened and how it could have been prevented.”

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “Rhapsody’s high-strung, Desi. You know that. Everyone knows that. And she was already spooked going into this thing—a nip on the rump was all it took to send her completely over the edge. It’s not that hard to understand.”

“But we should have been able to prevent it, to stop—”

“You mean I should have been able to stop it, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Jesse, you promised my father a Triple Crown!”

“I promised your father that I would do my best to deliver one. I didn’t guarantee it.”

She shook her head in irritation. “Now you’re splitting hairs.”

“I’m splitting hairs? You’re jumping all over me because a horse, who was going to win the race, stumbled and fell on the track. Don’t you think that’s just a little irrational?”

“Irrational?” Her voice rose with every syllable. “Look, I’m caught in the middle between you and my father and I didn’t ask to be put there.”

“Bullshit. Don’t play the martyr, Desiree, it doesn’t become you. You’re in the middle because you put yourself there. I’ve never asked you to interfere between your father and me before and I’m not doing so now. You’re the one who started on me the second your father left.”

“He’s got the right to be upset. His—”

“Are you even listening to yourself? What the hell does he have to be upset about? He should be grateful that Rhapsody is all right, that she didn’t break both her front legs like Sterling’s Silver. That he didn’t have to put down a million-dollar racehorse and that she’ll be able to run again.” Fury ate at him, raising his voice and his blood pressure.

“Of course he’s happy that Rhapsody is okay.”

“Yeah. He looked really relieved when I told him.”

“You’re not being fair.”

“I’m getting blamed because a horse fell in the race and you think I’m not being fair?”

“She didn’t win, Jess.”

“So what, Desiree? It’s just a race. One that your father—and apparently, you—are completely obsessed with, but it’s still just a race.”

“It’s more than that. Daddy wants this more that anything, has worked for it his entire life. Why can’t you see that?”

“Why can’t you see that he’s obsessed? That his desire to win this stupid thing is almost sick?”

“Don’t say that about him! Don’t you ever say that! Since Mama died, this ranch is all he has. He wants to leave a legacy, Jesse. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

Jesse laughed, but it was an angry sound. “He’s already got a legacy, darlin’. Hell, he’s got a dynasty. But it’s not enough.” He grabbed her by the arms, made her look at him. “Nothing will ever be enough. Even if he had won the Triple Crown today, he’d want another one next year. If one’s good, two would be better. Or three or four…The Triple H could be the first horse ranch to ever win the Triple Crown two years in a row. Wouldn’t he love that?”

She wrenched away from him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“At least I’m in good company.”

She stiffened, then turned and walked into the bathroom. As he listened to the click of the lock, Jesse gritted his teeth and tried desperately to keep from punching something. He hadn’t meant to argue with Desiree, hadn’t planned to say anything about her father at all.

But what was he supposed to do? He’d given this ranch everything he had for the past nine years. What else could she expect from him?

How could he have anticipated Rhapsody falling? What could he have done about it, even if he had seen it coming? Thrusting his hands into his hair, Jesse paced back and forth, agony and anger battling within him as he waited for Desiree to re-emerge from her self-imposed exile.

But when she finally came out of the bathroom, her face scrubbed clean and her pajamas on, he was no closer to finding a solution to their dilemma. When she came up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, he tried to relax into her embrace but their fight was still too raw in his mind.

“I love you.” She pressed her lips against the back of his neck as she slid her hands up his back and began to massage his shoulders.

He reached up, grabbed one of her hands in his own. “I love you, too, Desiree. But this isn’t working. I can’t live like this.”

She stiffened against him. “What does that mean?”

He turned, pulling her suddenly unyielding body into his arms. “It means that I feel as torn as you do. I’m stuck in this catch-22 between the ranch and you and your father and I don’t think it’s healthy for any of us.”

He took a deep breath, his hands running in soothing circles on her back. “I think I need to look for another job, find another ranch to train horses for.”

“Jesse, no!’ Her hands flew to her mouth. “You can’t do that.”

His eyes were grim as he studied her. “Then tell me what to do, Desiree. How do we solve this? Because I can’t spend the rest of my life caught between my boss and my wife.”