Heat Wave (Riders Up) Page 5

  Harrington nodded. “It’ll take a day to van each way. We’ll need time to look over some horses. And depending on what’s happening at the track, Cassie may want to take you to the races to claim a horse. Can’t do all of that in less than a week.”

  “Are your friends going to want us to stay with them the whole time?”

  Harrington dipped his chin but failed to hide a trace of a smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll like them, and they’ll like you. We go back through some tough times together. There was a time they didn’t like me much, and I didn’t like them either. I was a cocky bastard to be around.” He stiffened.

  “But Clint and Cassie Travers were among the very few folks who stood by me during the scandal. Clint still has a guy looking into the whole affair from time to time to see if some piece of evidence was overlooked or if anybody is ready to change a story. Odd, how it turned out. I owe them a lot. The least we can do is give them some business.”

  Maggie thinned her lips but did not speak her mind.

  “You’ll get some of the best bred horses in the Midwest. I don’t just do business with friends. I do business with friends who raise very fine horses.”

  Ducking away briefly from his intense stare, Maggie replied, “I imagine you do. It’s hard to picture you as cocky, though.” Embarrassed by her own words, Maggie gulped, but couldn’t look away quickly enough to avoid seeing his frown.

  “Guess I’ve been humbled over the years.”

  “No playing hooky,” Maggie said again.

  Ed watched her push her scrambled eggs back and forth across her plate.

  “Mrs. Murphy will call you at seven to see if you are up, again at eight to be sure you made the bus, and stop by in the evening. You are welcome to stay overnight at her home any time. And on the weekend, Carolyn, you will be with Barbara and her family. And Johnny, you’ll go home with David. Do you have all of this down?” Maggie rubbed the tips of her fingers across her temples. “Emergency numbers are on the fridge. The number where we will be staying—Travers—is at the top of the list.”

  Both children rolled their eyes toward the ceiling.

  Ed sat mesmerized by Maggie’s incessant chatter. He’d not witnessed this side of her before.

  She caught him staring at her. “Oh,” she stuttered. “I guess we’ve been over this a few times already. Was I rattling on?” She reached over to ruffle her son’s hair. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

  “A tornado couldn’t stop you when you get nervous and fidgety, Mom,” Carolyn chastised.

  “Yeah,” Johnny teased, “sometimes you talk so fast my ears can’t keep up with you.”

  Ed laughed aloud. It was a comfortable family. Each individual had foibles, but was remarkably tolerated by the others. Had it always been that way, or did part of the camaraderie come because of having to deal with the death of a husband and father?

  “Well, I hope you’ve had some fun over of my concern,” Maggie protested easily. “It’s just that I’ve not been away this long since…” Her eyes widened and became misty. “I know, Carolyn, you’re a teenager. And neither one of you wants a babysitter. I wish I could take you with us. But you can’t miss that much school this close to the end of the school year.”

  “Mom, we’ll be okay,” Carolyn insisted. “We’ll have to send Mrs. Murphy home to get rid of her. And you know Hank isn’t going to come and go without checking in on us. He’s almost family.”

  “You’re right, dear. I forgot to mention I’ve instructed Hank whenever he is planting or mowing to take a moment and see how you’re doing. Okay,” she said with a lopsided grin. “No more lecturing. You know I love you. You’re just growing up too fast. I’ll try not to worry again until we’re driving out of the driveway.”

  Ed sat back and relaxed as tension dissipated around the table.

  ”Can’t wait till you get back,” Johnny yelped. “I still can hardly believe it. Racehorses!”

  Maggie looked hurt. “You sound more eager to see the horses than me and Ed.” She smiled at her son. “But it will be great fun to see them in our paddocks.”

  “Don’t think anyone knows how much work these animals are going to require,” Ed grumbled, draining his cup of coffee. “There will be plenty of jobs for everyone.”

  “Fantastic!” Johnny shouted.

  Carolyn remained quiet.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Well, now that the guys are in the city, Eddie’s down for his nap and Lester and Sammy won’t get home for another three hours, we have the place to ourselves,” Cassie Travers said, smiling broadly at Maggie, who sat at the kitchen table finishing her lunch coffee. “What would you like to do?

  “Oh, you’ve been so helpful already,” Maggie said, looking over at the redhead putting leftovers away. “It’s just nice being here. I’ve been away from my kids for as much as two weeks, but that’s when they go to camp. I’ve never gone off and left them like this. That’s different.”

  Cassie nodding knowingly. “Yeah, it is.” She filled a cup with black coffee and sat down across from Maggie. “Sometimes I’ll travel with Clint. And you know what? The kids seem to survive quite well. I suspect yours are doing fine, too.”

  “Yes, I’m sure they are. Carolyn is quite capable and Mrs. Murphy will likely be a nuisance checking on them. And of course Hank—he works part-time for me planting and harvesting—he’ll always find a reason to stop and ask how things are going. No, I’m sure they’re doing fine…I’m less certain about me.”

  Maggie frowned. Where had those words come from? She’d liked Cassie instantly, but she didn’t need to bare her soul, either. The Travers kitchen did remind her of home, though—light, airy, filled with smells of cooking, a good gathering place for family.

  “I can see that we need to keep you busy,” Cassie said. “Tomorrow we’ll go to the track. There are a couple claiming possibilities, one in race three and another in race five. Has Ed explained claiming races to you?”

  Maggie nodded. “That’s where an owner puts his horse in a race for a price tag. If someone else wants to buy or claim the horse they put their money in some kind of box just before the race. And the horse is hers.”

  Laughing, Cassie said, “That’s about it, except there might be several other owners who want the horse. I’ve attempted many claims that I never got because I didn’t win the roll of the dice to decide who would actually get the horse.”

  “Oh. There’s so much to learn.”

  “You’re picking up on things quickly, that’s clear. And you have a natural nose for horses. That was evident yesterday when we drove over to Broken Wheel Stable to evaluate their yearlings. And from what I can tell, you have a realistic head on your shoulders. I’m sure Ed has told you that in this business it’s okay, even necessary, to dream, but you still have to be prepared to make hardheaded decisions about horses and about people.”

  Maggie winced. “Ed has tried to make us all understand that we shouldn’t get too attached to any one animal. Not all horses are meant to be racehorses, he says. If you just want to own a horse, don’t bother to buy a racehorse.”

  Chuckling, Cassie agreed. “That sounds like Ed, all right.” Sobering, she continued, “The best decision you made regarding your horse business was hiring Ed Harrington. You can’t find a sharper mind or a harder worker. He has a touch with horses that is rare, particularly for a man.”

  Maggie paused, chewed on her lower lip, and listened to the ticking of the kitchen clock. “Tell me about him.”

  “Ah.” Cassie laughed softly. “I believe there’s more behind that question than horses.”

  Maggie felt herself blush, but she remained silent.

  “Okay…Ed Harrington.” Rubbing her hands vigorously, Cassie obviously warmed to the topic of discussion. “When I first met him, I thought he was an arrogant bastard who knew more about horses than he had a right to know. He was attracted to me, I guess, but I wasn’t interested in him. The word on shedrow was that Harrington not on
ly was a hard worker, he also drank hard and went through women like they were disposable containers.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m not saying he’s like that now.” Cassie shrugged. “You said you wanted to know, and I started at the beginning.

  Maggie nodded.

  “It wasn’t long after Clint and I were married that Ed seemed to go through some big changes. I think there were some health problems. Anyway, he cut way back on his drinking. And he found a steady woman.”

  Maggie brushed her fingers across her twitching cheek.

  “At the same time, his career was skyrocketing,” Cassie added. “Within a year or two there was no question that he would be working with Triple Crown candidate horses.”

  Cassie rose to pour more coffee. Returning to her seat, she shuddered slightly before continuing with her story.

  “I always respected Ed as a horseman, but it was only through personal crisis that I came to respect him as a man. There is no other way to put it, Maggie—Ed saved my life, as well as that of our baby.”

  Involuntarily, Maggie gasped and her stomach clenched.

  “I was six weeks early with Eddie. No one expected that. Clint was away on a trip. The labor started when I was at the track. There was bleeding.” Cassie sighed. “Ed rushed me to the hospital and stayed with me throughout the whole ordeal. The doctor said if we had been another hour later we would most certainly have lost the baby and maybe, possibly even me.”

  “I didn’t…know,” Maggie murmured, forcing back tears.

  “Of course you didn’t. It would be the last thing Ed Harrington would want to talk about. That might hurt his image as some kind of tough guy.”

  Thoughtfully, Maggie ran an index finger around the rim of her coffee cup. Seldom would the man allow a glimpse of his heart, yet she’d known all along that it was a good heart.

  “We named our son after Ed,” Cassie continued, “and he is the boy’s godfather.”

  “Really!”

  “Uh huh—I’m not sure how keen he is about that, but he agreed. Until he really got deep into alcohol, he remembered birthdays and special holidays.”

  Those words warmed Maggie’s insides. “Why did he run? From the scandal. He had friends who stood by him. He had you and Clint.”

  Shrugging, Cassie drummed her fingers on the table. “You’ll have to ask him. I can only guess. Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear of himself. Who knows? We tried to help him. But once he got heavily involved with booze, he wouldn’t let us help. That was difficult for everybody.”

  Maggie watched Cassie search for words, for an answer to a question she’d obviously struggled with many times before.

  “I imagine shame drove him away,” Cassie said at last. “Sadly, shame for something he didn’t even do.”

  “You’re convinced of that,” Maggie probed cautiously.

  “Absolutely! He and I have had our differences, but Ed Harrington would no more throw a race than I would.”

  “And then he just disappeared.”

  “After awhile, he did. He couldn’t get work around here. And he wouldn’t accept a job from us. The man has too much pride for his own damn good. Anyway, Clint stayed aware of his whereabouts through a private investigator. We’d had no direct word from him for months—not until you came along.” Cassie’s eyes sparkled as if she was about to disclose a secret. “You’re good for him, you know.”

  Again, Maggie felt her cheeks warm. “I just gave him a job.”

  “Right. You gave him a hell of a lot more than that. Respect. Even some hope. I don’t know how you did it, but somehow you penetrated that alcohol haze in a way no one else had. You must have found him at the right moment. Or maybe he saw something in you that was worth changing for. He likely doesn’t even know.”

  “He probably saw brazen stupidity,” Maggie confessed. “I was pretty hard on him when we first met.”

  “No doubt that’s what was needed. And maybe he was tired of running. I suspect you scare the hell out of him.”

  “Me?” Maggie frowned.

  “When I was a practicing social worker, I had plenty of opportunity to work with alcoholics. I imagine Ed’s afraid of the bottle and its potential power over him. You likely scare him in less clear ways. He owes you; he knows that. Yet he’s probably afraid he won’t live up to your expectations. And mostly he’s afraid of himself. Can he trust himself to make the right decisions? What will he do in the future when things don’t go well? Will he run? Or will he stick?”

  Maggie nodded. Those questions lay at the back of her mind whenever she worried about Ed Harrington and her future. Those questions underscored her vulnerability.

  Would he stick when—not if—things blew up around them? They wouldn’t always agree on how best to establish or manage the stables. He would advise, but she had to make the final choices. How would he handle her overruling him?

  “What about the woman?” Maggie inquired hesitantly. Cassie’s return stare was blank. “The steady woman you talked about earlier.”

  “Oh, her. She dumped him as soon as the scandal hit. I don’t think Ed’s ever had a family. He’s comfortable with you and you with him.” Cassie paused. With a provocative look she added, “And he is handsome in a rough sort of way, isn’t he?”

  Maggie’s eyes rounded. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

  “No matter,” breezed Cassie, getting up to clear away their empty cups, “whatever woman is able to lasso Ed Harrington someday will be a damn lucky woman.”

  “Thanks,” Maggie mumbled. Suddenly, she couldn’t find a place to put her hands.

  Cassie shot her an inquisitive look.

  “For telling me about Ed. I’ve got a lot riding on him.”

  “Can we use it?” Maggie inquired, watching Harrington examine the six horse trailer as if it might be booby trapped. Clint Travers had referred them to Tom Basswood, the son of a trainer who had recently died. The son had no use for the racehorse business and was dispersing all his father’s horses and equipment.

  “Can’t find any sharp edges,” Harrington grunted. “It should do. Old man Basswood always took good care of his horses. And the price is right.”

  Harrington stepped out of the trailer and nodded at Maggie. She turned to the waiting Tom Basswood and said, “We’ll take it.”

  The middle aged man gave her a quick smile. “That’s great. Don’t know why a pretty thing like you would want to get into the horse business, but as long as you do, I’m more than willing to take your money. Dad had more horses than he knew what to do with.”

  Tom Basswood folded his arms across his massive stomach. “As long as you’re here and own a horse trailer, why don’t you look at our horses? I can guarantee you won’t find better prices for what you’re getting.”

  Maggie glanced at Harrington.

  “Why not?” he muttered. “Doesn’t cost anything to look.”

  As the three of them walked toward the paddocks west of the sprawling barn, Maggie asked, “So why are you so determined to get out of the horse business, Mr. Basswood?”

  The man grunted. “It was my dad’s dream, never mine. I had to bust my ass as a kid grooming his horses, treating them for colic, getting my teeth jarred loose whenever I was thrown. Long hours. No time for family. Owners treat you like you’re cheating them. You have to have a lot of money to make money. Traveling from track to track.” He stopped and looked at Maggie. “Have I left anything out?”

  Maggie shook her head. He was a distasteful man. Thankfully, for the sake of the horses, the overweight man didn’t try to ride them. But some of what he said had a familiar ring to it. Templeton had warned her about the long hours, the pressures on family, and the fact that many stables netted little profit.

  She caught Harrington staring at her with his quizzical look. Was he wondering if she would have the courage for the long haul?

  As they continued walking toward the paddock, Maggie remembered Cassie’s praise for Harrington. A top not
ch trainer ready to move to the big time by taking on Triple Crown contenders.

  Maggie shivered. If Harrington was cleared of wrongdoing, which Cassie fully expected, how long would he stay in Iowa helping a widow get started in a business where failures outnumbered successes? Wouldn’t he dash back to Chicago and pick up where he left off? Any sensible person would do that.

  And where would that leave Anderson Stables? Maggie shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it.

  They came to a stop before a large paddock. Six horses were eating hay from a large round bale sitting in the center of the area. Maggie thought none of the horses seemed very alert. One had an obvious sway back. She was curious what Harrington would have to say about them.

  “Each of these was competitive at Hawthorne and Arlington. The two bays on the left were running in allowance races. The others are claimers.” Basswood scratched his chin. “I think they were high end claimers, but I’d have to check to be sure. Dad could tell you every race a horse ever entered. In any case, I’m sure you’ll find them quite competitive in Iowa.”

  The man’s disdain for racing, for her, and for Iowa was becoming too much. Maggie felt her cheek twitch. She opened her mouth to speak.

  “We’ll look them over,” Ed said, winking at Maggie. “Maggie’s got quite an eye for horseflesh. If they’re what we want we’ll get back to you. Why don’t you give us some time?”

  “Sure, no problem. You know more about horses than I do,” Basswood grumbled. “I just want them out of my life.”

  Maggie sighed. She knew Harrington had jumped in so she wouldn’t chop off Basswood’s head. She watched Harrington’s eyes narrow as he assessed the horses from a distance.

  “Is there anything there that we want?” Maggie asked.

  Grinning at her, Harrington replied, “Do you think so?”