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Authors: Adriana Kraft
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to a subject he preferred. “Maggie will be thrilled with the
mare.”
“You sound quite
committed to Anderson Stables,” Clint observed, turning off the lights before
leaving the stable area.
“Why shouldn’t I
be? That’s how I get paid.”
“Uh huh. You have a
damn sexy looking boss, too.”
“So.”
“No need to get
huffy about it. It’s just that I expect you’re rather vulnerable at this point.
And Maggie has done a lot to help you turn some personal things around. Just
don’t want you feeling overly obligated to her, that’s all.”
“Travers, you have
always been in my face about something,” Ed snapped, picking up their pace
heading toward the house. “No, I take that back, partially. You’ve been a good
friend these last few years and that’s appreciated, but no advice is needed in
this corner about women. Maybe I’ve drunk a hell of a lot of booze, but I’m not
blind. It’s no revelation to me that she’s damn attractive. It would be better
if she were ugly, but she’s not. In any case, I simply work for Maggie
Anderson. That’s all there is to it. That’s all there ever will be.”
“Okay, Ed,” Clint
replied, placing his arm around Ed’s shoulder and squeezing him roughly. “No
doubt you’re quite capable of handling the woman. I just thought you wouldn’t
want to get too tied down in Des Moines, Iowa. I’m still confident that we can
beat this betting scandal rap. And when we do, you can come back and pick up
where you left off. There’ll be plenty of owners who’ll jump through hoops to
be first in line to get their horses in your stable.”
“I’m not so sure
about that,” Ed responded, shrugging off the compliment. “Hope there’ll be a
chance for you to prove me wrong, though. In the meantime, I’m going to help
Maggie build the best damn racing stable she can afford.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Warm June sunlight
spilled through window panes into the upstairs guest room at the Travers’
McHenry home. Lazily, Maggie awoke, stretching, basking in her surroundings. Tiny
rainbows danced on the nearby wall as light played through prisms hanging in
the window.
Light blue lace
curtains billowed before the morning breeze, casting a spell of fantasy and
romance. The antique four poster bed on which she lay dated back to the
colonial period and had been crafted in Ireland. And the lush feather pillows
augmented a luxurious setting that Maggie had not anticipated. Cassie Travers
had a lot of taste.
Maggie mumbled
incoherently. She needed to get up and start the day but didn’t want to leave
her delicious surroundings. Sinking back into the fluffy pillows, she succumbed
to their sensuous comfort.
She’d liked her
plucky auburn-haired hostess right off. Cassie managed with aplomb being a
wife, mother and horse trainer. Yet, the woman seemed very true to her own
core. Maggie envied her sense of being okay with herself. Someday. Maybe
someday.
Not once had Cassie
tried to dissuade her from the goal of forming a racing stable. Her hostess, as
well as her husband, had been very helpful in identifying horses in the area
that might fit into Maggie’s plans.
Clint had agreed to
keep Maggie’s needs in mind when he went to the summer Keeneland Sales in July.
He and Cassie concurred with Harrington that to build for the long run,
Anderson Stables would want to purchase mares in foal later in the fall.
Clutching a pillow
tight to her chest, Maggie reflected on the news Cassie had shared about Harrington’s
background. Maggie sighed softly. She’d chosen well.
Cassie had said he’d
once had a reputation as a fairly heavy drinker and a lady’s man. Maggie hadn’t
seen evidence of either since he’d shown up on her porch that Sunday afternoon
in a dusty feed mill cap ready for work. She grinned.
He’d better not try
to bring any floozy to her haymow loft. Maggie jutted her chin forward. She’d
send him packing so quick he wouldn’t know what hit him. There
mare.”
“You sound quite
committed to Anderson Stables,” Clint observed, turning off the lights before
leaving the stable area.
“Why shouldn’t I
be? That’s how I get paid.”
“Uh huh. You have a
damn sexy looking boss, too.”
“So.”
“No need to get
huffy about it. It’s just that I expect you’re rather vulnerable at this point.
And Maggie has done a lot to help you turn some personal things around. Just
don’t want you feeling overly obligated to her, that’s all.”
“Travers, you have
always been in my face about something,” Ed snapped, picking up their pace
heading toward the house. “No, I take that back, partially. You’ve been a good
friend these last few years and that’s appreciated, but no advice is needed in
this corner about women. Maybe I’ve drunk a hell of a lot of booze, but I’m not
blind. It’s no revelation to me that she’s damn attractive. It would be better
if she were ugly, but she’s not. In any case, I simply work for Maggie
Anderson. That’s all there is to it. That’s all there ever will be.”
“Okay, Ed,” Clint
replied, placing his arm around Ed’s shoulder and squeezing him roughly. “No
doubt you’re quite capable of handling the woman. I just thought you wouldn’t
want to get too tied down in Des Moines, Iowa. I’m still confident that we can
beat this betting scandal rap. And when we do, you can come back and pick up
where you left off. There’ll be plenty of owners who’ll jump through hoops to
be first in line to get their horses in your stable.”
“I’m not so sure
about that,” Ed responded, shrugging off the compliment. “Hope there’ll be a
chance for you to prove me wrong, though. In the meantime, I’m going to help
Maggie build the best damn racing stable she can afford.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Warm June sunlight
spilled through window panes into the upstairs guest room at the Travers’
McHenry home. Lazily, Maggie awoke, stretching, basking in her surroundings. Tiny
rainbows danced on the nearby wall as light played through prisms hanging in
the window.
Light blue lace
curtains billowed before the morning breeze, casting a spell of fantasy and
romance. The antique four poster bed on which she lay dated back to the
colonial period and had been crafted in Ireland. And the lush feather pillows
augmented a luxurious setting that Maggie had not anticipated. Cassie Travers
had a lot of taste.
Maggie mumbled
incoherently. She needed to get up and start the day but didn’t want to leave
her delicious surroundings. Sinking back into the fluffy pillows, she succumbed
to their sensuous comfort.
She’d liked her
plucky auburn-haired hostess right off. Cassie managed with aplomb being a
wife, mother and horse trainer. Yet, the woman seemed very true to her own
core. Maggie envied her sense of being okay with herself. Someday. Maybe
someday.
Not once had Cassie
tried to dissuade her from the goal of forming a racing stable. Her hostess, as
well as her husband, had been very helpful in identifying horses in the area
that might fit into Maggie’s plans.
Clint had agreed to
keep Maggie’s needs in mind when he went to the summer Keeneland Sales in July.
He and Cassie concurred with Harrington that to build for the long run,
Anderson Stables would want to purchase mares in foal later in the fall.
Clutching a pillow
tight to her chest, Maggie reflected on the news Cassie had shared about Harrington’s
background. Maggie sighed softly. She’d chosen well.
Cassie had said he’d
once had a reputation as a fairly heavy drinker and a lady’s man. Maggie hadn’t
seen evidence of either since he’d shown up on her porch that Sunday afternoon
in a dusty feed mill cap ready for work. She grinned.
He’d better not try
to bring any floozy to her haymow loft. Maggie jutted her chin forward. She’d
send him packing so quick he wouldn’t know what hit him. There
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