Biding Her Time. Wendy Warren

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ an assortment of miniature cakes and truffles. Everything in the Prestons’ home bespoke of a lifestyle made luxurious by financial success.

      What would happen to a family used to the finer things in life, if their current troubles proved powerful enough to crumple what they’d built?

      There were people, certainly, who would be glad to watch a successful racing family lose at something. Even within the organization, there were always one or two dissenters intent on resenting the very people who signed their paychecks, but Audrey would never be one of them. She admired the Prestons. They worked hard, and at least one of them—Robbie, the youngest son—played hard, but you’d never see them throwing around their money or their power; they simply weren’t that way.

      On top of that, they’d been good to her. Shortly after she and her dad had moved in—a single father and a skinny, morose-looking preteen who had recently lost her mother and most of her trust in the world—then eighteen-year-old Melanie Preston had arrived with a basket of food and books for Audrey that would have made any welcoming committee feel miserly by comparison. Quickly following his sister’s visit, sixteen-year-old Robbie had stopped by to see if any necessary repairs had been noted around the cottage.

      When Audrey was sick and stayed home from school for weeks on end, the impromptu visits and special care packages continued and no one had ever made her feel like an extra appendage around the place, even when she surely had been one.

      Standing now at the entrance to the dining room, with Seamus sniffing longingly in the direction of the coffee trolley, Audrey hoped that the ambiguity surrounding the breeding of Leopold’s Legacy would soon be resolved, preferably before she left the Prestons.

      She ruffled the fur around Seamus’s neck. “Go find your bed, boy, and have a little nap.”

      Sadly aware that the dining room was off-limits, the wolfhound turned and trudged off toward the family room where his bed awaited him.

      Audrey moved toward the French doors, their glass panes veiled by sheer white curtain panels that allowed in a dreamy, filtered light.

      Turning one brass door handle, she let herself out to a wide brick patio dotted with umbrellas that provided big circles of welcoming shade.

      Despite a discomfiting hitch of nervousness, Audrey thought she’d managed to walk onto the patio as if she fit in fine with her surroundings.

      Jenna and Shane stood by the patio balustrade, listening to Brent Preston, eldest son and head trainer at the stables, while the three of them looked out onto one of the paddocks. Brent’s sister, Melanie, and their father, Thomas, were having an animated discussion next to the hors d’oeuvres. Melanie had a glass of iced tea in one hand and a mini ham-and-cheese biscuit in the other. She waved the biscuit when she saw Audrey.

      “Come here. I’m telling Dad about Something to Talk About. Audrey, isn’t he a beaut? Have you noticed his expression right before he gallops? He’s the most naturally ambitious horse I’ve ever seen. And he tunes in so well to people. He’s a total flirt. I bet he’ll win just to show off for me.”

      Thomas watched his daughter with a heartwarming blend of affection and consternation. Horses had been in his blood before they’d ever become his livelihood. He’d lived and breathed racing long before his children had been a glimmer in his eye. He was an old-time track man, however, and the idea that a racehorse of any worth would win or lose depending on his affection for a jockey was pushing the boundaries of his belief system. There were still plenty of people, Audrey knew, who did not subscribe to the notion that horses possessed anything approaching emotional intelligence.

      She, on the other hand, liked the idea. Working with horses day in and day out gave her a clear impression of which animals had compassion, empathy and a sense of camaraderie, and which wouldn’t let you on their backs if you were stranded in a desert without any shoes of your own.

      Audrey thought Melanie could be one of the great jockeys someday and smiled as the petite firecracker turned to her now, an anxious frown working between her brows. “You don’t think Something’s toes are too short, do you, Audrey? His stride seems a little shorter than usual, and I know you don’t like long toes, but I’m just wondering… No offense.”

      “You’re not offending me.”

      As far as Audrey could tell, every shoer did some things his or her own way. Leaving a horse’s toes a bit long to lengthen its stride was the tradition at many racetracks, but Audrey’s father hadn’t believed in it, and neither did she.

      Melanie had taken a particular shine to Something to Talk About, so was naturally a bit more… focused… on all the details of his care and training.

      Gently, but with authority, Audrey reminded the other woman, “Studies have never shown that long toes lengthen the stride. Just the opposite. Thanks to videos, it’s a proven fact that they don’t.” It was also a fact that plenty of track farriers and even more owners still held on to the mistaken belief, so she added, “Even if it were true, some horses just can’t handle a long toe, and I’d never risk the leg to lengthen the stride.”

      It was a bold thing to state in front of a racing stable’s owner—that you wouldn’t sacrifice safety to help create a winner—and Thomas wasn’t the only one who gave her his full attention.

      Both Brent and Shane turned to consider her, Brent mirroring his father’s approval, Shane shooting her a keen stare lined by curiosity.

      She concentrated her response on Melanie. “I watched Something to Talk About in the paddock this morning, and I think it may be worth an X-ray to see if he’s a bit flat-footed. That could change the way I file him.”

      Melanie was pacified enough to offer Audrey one of the petite ham-and-cheese sandwiches. Hungry, Audrey felt her mouth water as her fingertips closed on the flaky golden biscuit, but it turned gummy on her tongue when Shane excused himself from Jenna and Brent and headed her way.

      She felt both relieved and acutely disappointed when he stopped beside Thomas and struck up a conversation about the frustration of participating in claiming stakes, in which horses could be purchased prior to the race and therefore forfeited by the owner regardless of the race’s outcome.

      Audrey wanted to listen. Rather annoyingly, she caught herself wanting to listen to every word Shane Preston said. Contrary to her earlier assumption, the gorgeous brunette was nowhere in sight. When Jenna announced that it was time to proceed to the dining room, no one mentioned waiting for Shane’s girlfriend.

      “This is my exit cue,” Brent said, giving his mother a peck on the cheek and apologizing to his cousin for missing lunch. “The girls only have a half day at summer camp today, so we’re going on a picnic.”

      “Bring the girls by later,” Jenna offered. “I’ll take ’em swimming.”

      Brent agreed and headed out to his own life, which, no matter the complexities of Quest business, centered on the needs of his twin daughters.

      Ushering the remaining Prestons plus Audrey to the dining room, Jenna directed Shane to the chair on Audrey’s left. Looking at the lovely table and linens and the raw silk cushions adorning each straight-backed chair, Audrey wished that she’d been less committed to individualism when she’d dressed for lunch and more concerned with being appropriate. Even Melanie, who typically dressed as if she were ready for a workout, had donned a casual summer dress.

      Before she could dwell on it, Shane surprised her by pulling СКАЧАТЬ