Read Online Whitehorse by Katherine Sutcliffe - Free Book Online
Authors: Katherine Sutcliffe
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one of the positions—"
"I know who she is," Johnny interrupted. "Senator Foster's daughter."
Silence filled up the room.
Leah gave Johnny a flat smile. "Yes. I am. But I won't hold that against you, Mr. Whitehorse. Everyone is entitled to his own opinion of a politician—stupid or not. This is a free country, as I recall."
He relaxed against the back of his chair, his lips taking on a smug curl. "What makes you think you're cut out to be a track vet, Doctor Starr?"
"I'm good and I'm bright. I care about horses."
"Ah, but do you care about people, Doctor?"
"Meaning?"
"This is an emotional business. Dreams get crushed. Lives ruined. Do you ever stop to think how your decision can radically alter someone's life?"
Her cheeks began to burn and her throat grew tight. The men lining the table stared down at their food-littered plates and mustard-stained napkins as Leah tried her best to control the surge of emotion rolling over in her chest. Johnny was goading her. He wanted to break her. He might as well have reached across the table and smashed her like a bug with his fist.
"Do you understand exactly what would be expected of you should you get this position?" he asked, his voice sounding as if it were echoing from a well. "You would be on call twenty-four hours a day during the meets. You would be expected to work on weekends. On holidays. Your day begins at six in the morning and doesn't end until
midnight
, or later. I understand that you're divorced. Have you obligations that would get in the way of your duties?"
"I'm more than capable of making certain that any obligations I have are met to my satisfaction."
His eyes narrowed. "Do you have children, Doctor Starr?"
She opened and closed her mouth, then nodded. "A boy."
He looked down briefly, saying nothing, obviously considering his next words. "Would you care to tell us about him?" he invited her in soft monotone.
"He's … seven." Leah took a deep breath, glancing the men's pleasant, interested expressions before centering back on Johnny. His eyes looked dark as polished onyx. And his lips … oh, God. "His name is … Val. Short for Valentino."
Valentino. Once he had laughed at the suggestion, as they lay naked under the summer night sky, young arms and legs entangled, their hunger for one another sated, momentarily, planning their future together, the children they would make together. All boys. She would name their first son Valentino because she had always had a passion for old Rudolph Valentino movies. So it had been decided that night that they would name their first son Valentino.
Seven years ago, as she pressed her face against the plastic incubator and gazed down on her son, she'd thought about Johnny, and about that night they'd looked at the stars and planned their future together—of the children they would share. So she'd named her son Valentino, in memory of the love she had let get away. In memory of the heart she had broken. In memory of Johnny Whitehorse.
A man in wire-rimmed glasses smiled at Leah. "Have you adequate child care for him?"
She returned his smile. "I have live-in help."
Silence. An eternal moment passed before Leah raised her gaze back to Johnny's.
How could you? his eyes asked.
I'm sorry. So sorry.
Greg pushed his chair back. "I think we've covered all the essentials. I've got your résumé and references. I'll see that each of the gentlemen here get a copy before they leave today." He offered his hand to Leah. She took it and stood, smiled her thanks to everyone at the table except Johnny, then turned for the door. Greg walked with her into the hall. "We'll vote next Monday. I'll give you a call that evening or first thing Tuesday morning." He patted her shoulder. "Johnny is a good man. Intelligent, despite his flamboyant and sometimes controversial reputation. I doubt his feelings for your father would influence his judgment of you."
She laughed and looked away, wondering if she should inform Greg that Johnny's
"I know who she is," Johnny interrupted. "Senator Foster's daughter."
Silence filled up the room.
Leah gave Johnny a flat smile. "Yes. I am. But I won't hold that against you, Mr. Whitehorse. Everyone is entitled to his own opinion of a politician—stupid or not. This is a free country, as I recall."
He relaxed against the back of his chair, his lips taking on a smug curl. "What makes you think you're cut out to be a track vet, Doctor Starr?"
"I'm good and I'm bright. I care about horses."
"Ah, but do you care about people, Doctor?"
"Meaning?"
"This is an emotional business. Dreams get crushed. Lives ruined. Do you ever stop to think how your decision can radically alter someone's life?"
Her cheeks began to burn and her throat grew tight. The men lining the table stared down at their food-littered plates and mustard-stained napkins as Leah tried her best to control the surge of emotion rolling over in her chest. Johnny was goading her. He wanted to break her. He might as well have reached across the table and smashed her like a bug with his fist.
"Do you understand exactly what would be expected of you should you get this position?" he asked, his voice sounding as if it were echoing from a well. "You would be on call twenty-four hours a day during the meets. You would be expected to work on weekends. On holidays. Your day begins at six in the morning and doesn't end until
midnight
, or later. I understand that you're divorced. Have you obligations that would get in the way of your duties?"
"I'm more than capable of making certain that any obligations I have are met to my satisfaction."
His eyes narrowed. "Do you have children, Doctor Starr?"
She opened and closed her mouth, then nodded. "A boy."
He looked down briefly, saying nothing, obviously considering his next words. "Would you care to tell us about him?" he invited her in soft monotone.
"He's … seven." Leah took a deep breath, glancing the men's pleasant, interested expressions before centering back on Johnny. His eyes looked dark as polished onyx. And his lips … oh, God. "His name is … Val. Short for Valentino."
Valentino. Once he had laughed at the suggestion, as they lay naked under the summer night sky, young arms and legs entangled, their hunger for one another sated, momentarily, planning their future together, the children they would make together. All boys. She would name their first son Valentino because she had always had a passion for old Rudolph Valentino movies. So it had been decided that night that they would name their first son Valentino.
Seven years ago, as she pressed her face against the plastic incubator and gazed down on her son, she'd thought about Johnny, and about that night they'd looked at the stars and planned their future together—of the children they would share. So she'd named her son Valentino, in memory of the love she had let get away. In memory of the heart she had broken. In memory of Johnny Whitehorse.
A man in wire-rimmed glasses smiled at Leah. "Have you adequate child care for him?"
She returned his smile. "I have live-in help."
Silence. An eternal moment passed before Leah raised her gaze back to Johnny's.
How could you? his eyes asked.
I'm sorry. So sorry.
Greg pushed his chair back. "I think we've covered all the essentials. I've got your résumé and references. I'll see that each of the gentlemen here get a copy before they leave today." He offered his hand to Leah. She took it and stood, smiled her thanks to everyone at the table except Johnny, then turned for the door. Greg walked with her into the hall. "We'll vote next Monday. I'll give you a call that evening or first thing Tuesday morning." He patted her shoulder. "Johnny is a good man. Intelligent, despite his flamboyant and sometimes controversial reputation. I doubt his feelings for your father would influence his judgment of you."
She laughed and looked away, wondering if she should inform Greg that Johnny's
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