Kentucky Flame Read online

Blood pounded in her ears, and a horrible pain shot through her stomach. When Pop called her darling, it was a term of affection. This rendition was curt and cutting, as if the speaker didn’t believe what he said. Swift, wild resentment overwhelmed her.

  “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

  Mel turned slowly. “What are you doing here, Lenny?”

  His expression coolly neutral, her ex-husband gave a polite nod. “I believe I’m attending a charity party.”

  A shudder coursed through Mel’s whole body. Why had she once thought this man attractive? His salt and pepper hair now seemed dull and yellowed and his brown eyes, sardonic. He was a tall man, powerful—much like Pop had been in his prime. Somehow this very power only suggested control. His very presence reminded her of the years of manipulation and hurt.

  “Why are you here?”

  “As I said, I’m doing my part for charity.” He appraised her though half-closed eyes.

  Mel felt her face grow hotter. Surrounded by so many people, she felt trapped. Gulping the wine, she looked for a place to set down the glass, feeling as if she might break the crystal between her fingertips if she held it a minute longer.

  “Allow me.” Lenny removed the goblet from her hands, his fingers skimming hers, and placed it on the glass-covered exhibition case of old bridles and bits.

  “You never could keep away from these functions,” Mel accused, trying to regain control.

  “Yes, I find them stimulating. I am surprised to see you here, though.”

  “It’s part of my new job.” She refused to justify her actions. She hadn’t owed him this much explanation, but old habits died hard. Mel lifted her chin and glared back at him.

  Lenny’s look was cutting. “Royalty Farm. It didn’t take you long to find a prestigious job once you left me.”

  Mel bristled. Her ex-husband knew Royalty Farm was her home. “Look, Lenny, I don’t know what you want. Please excuse me.”

  “Melody, Melody, your feelings would have been hurt if I hadn’t spoken to you.” He blocked her path.

  “Don’t delude yourself,” Mel scoffed.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll be nice.” He smiled now, like a child very full of his own importance. “Tell me, have you seen any nice horses since you’ve been here? I’m thinking of going to the auction this week.”

  “You can afford it?” She gazed at him incredulously. “What happened to the thirteen thousand you owed that bookie in Vegas?”

  “That’s history, Melody, darling.”

  “Well, if you can afford to buy another show horse, you can certainly pay me what you owe me. I’ll let my lawyer know you have money now.” She refused to stand there with Lenny any longer, and skirting him, began to walk away.

  He dogged her as she weaved in and out among the guests. The noise was excruciating and so was the heat. Mel struggled to reach the door to the lobby.

  “Who was that man making eyes at you?”

  Even the lobby was crowded. Panicked, Mel pushed her way out the front door. “What man? What are you talking about?”

  “The tall, blond-haired man. You came in with him.”

  Had he been watching them? “That’s my boss. He took Pop’s place at the farm.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “What’s it to you? You aren’t my keeper.” Mel spun around to take a stand, the statue of Supreme Sultan at her back.

  Lenny’s penetrating gaze somehow managed to look innocent, but Mel knew it was an act. He never indulged in idle curiosity. He always had reasons for his questions and those reasons usually boded ill for her.

  “I just wondered,” he said with a smile.

  “Keep wondering!”

  “I thought perhaps it was Jake Hendricks.” Lenny’s tone was condescending.

  Stiff with fearful anger, Mel glared at him. “What do you want?” She shouldn’t have let him drive her outside alone. She saw her mistake now. Her desire to escape the noise and the crowd had overridden her better judgment.

  “Ah, so it is the famous Jake Hendricks.” His gaze left her a moment, and then settled back on her like a heavy cloak. “Will you have dinner with me this week?”

  The evening heat suffocated her. Moisture glossed her upper lip. “Lenny, we’re divorced. Even if that doesn’t mean anything to you, it means something to me.”

  “I have a business proposition to discuss with you.”

  Mel drew a deep breath and expelled it slowly to prevent herself from screaming. Calmly she said, “I have no desire to discuss anything with you.”

  Thrusting her chin into the air, she shoved past him and stalked toward the building, just as Jake came out.

  “There you are, Mel.” He held the door open. “We got separated.”

  “I know.” Mel slipped past him into the cool air of the museum.

  “Who were you talking to?” Jake followed her inside.

  Mel took an uneven breath before she answered. “Nobody. Nobody at all.”

  * * * *

  On Monday morning, Mel led Dreamcatcher from the barn, hitched him to the two-wheeled jog cart, and led him to the outdoor practice arena. Dawn had broken quietly over Lexington’s Red Mile. Part of the famous harness horse track had been transformed into an elegant show ring for the Junior League Horse Show. With the first class only hours away, caretakers and trainers were already at work, and the barn area reflected the hectic activity.

  Mel’s stomach ached as she climbed aboard the jog cart. Like a harness horse driver in a racing sulky, she sat with her boots lifted near the shafts of the cart, her butt tucked low in the seat. Picking up the reins, she clucked to the big stallion and started a slow, warm-up jog. She was glad to be away from the chaotic barn.

  Lenny’s appearance the night before had spooked her like she was a rank colt. A ghost from a not-so-distant past, her ex-husband’s specter hung over her like a pall. What did he want? What was he doing in Lexington? Old emotions of inadequacy and frustration surfaced, twisting her gut and threatening her normal composure.

  As horse and jog cart picked up speed, wheeling around the sharp turn of the race track, Mel welcomed the morning breeze after so much heat and humidity of the previous day. Down the hard straight-away, Dreamcatcher held his head high, stepping out proudly, his tail whipping in her face. She welcomed the sting of the horse’s tail as something real and vital. After so much confused emotion, Mel thankfully blanked out all thought.

  With a wrenching snap, the jog cart tilted perilously to the left. She fought to pull the stallion to a halt. She’d succeeded when the cart toppled over, slamming her to the ground beneath it.

  Her brain spun, and her chest clamored for air as she was bounced roughly through the dirt. Still clutching the lines, Mel heard the terrified staccato of the stallion’s hooves strike the hard surface of the track. Pain shot through her ankle, and she fought to keep her face up and out of harm.

  “Mel!” Jake’s voice echoed from somewhere far, far away. “Whoa, up there, boy. Whoa!”

  Dreamcatcher reared, his sharp hooves striking out. Coming back down, he shied to the right, dragging Mel and the cart along with him.

  “Easy now. Whoa there.”

  The cart came to rest. She was face down in the dirt.

  “Mel! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Mel sputtered out dirt with her words. “Get this thing off of me, okay?”

  “I can’t just yet. Dreamcatcher is too agitated, but here comes Dave.”

  The little groom approached cautiously, making soothing sounds to the stallion, and then took him from Jake, who untangled the twisted leather lines and traces. Sweat trickled between Mel’s breasts. She shut her eyes, her cheek pressed flat against the rough track.

  “Mel, I’ve got the lines untangled. Give me a minute and I’ll have this off.”

  “Hurry up.” Mel was embarrassed to need his help.

  When Dreamcatcher was unbuckled, Dave led him safely out of the shafts. Quick as a heartbeat, the cart
lifted from her, and she was hoisted up by Jake’s strong hands.

  Setting her upright, he held her at arm’s length. “Are you okay?”

  Heat swept up her face. “Yes, thanks.”

  Mel put all of her weight on her left foot. “Ouch!”

  She stumbled forward and Jake caught her, his warm and sturdy arms surrounding her. He was so big and safe, his heart beating close to her own, his musky male smell comforting. In an instinctive act, Mel relaxed for moment.

  “You said you were okay,” Jake said, his breath warm on the top of her hair.

  Regretting her weakness, Mel pulled away. She balanced awkwardly on her foot. Her ankle throbbed, but not as much as her heart. Jake still held her steady, his fingers burning like brands upon the flesh of her upper arms. She was all too aware of their contact.

  “Well, I guess I was a bit premature,” she spat back as she fought to keep her expression remote. She didn’t want his help, not if it created within her such a vigorous response.

  “You’ll have to get a doctor to look at that foot. You may not be able to ride tonight.”

  The anger Mel had tried to suppress bubbled into a rolling boil. Jake didn’t care about her injury, just the stupid horse show and his stupid career. It had been like that when they were kids. Jake hadn’t changed.

  Shaking herself free from his grasp, she hobbled away. “Thanks for your concern. I’ll take your advice.”

  “Oh, Mel, don’t be so stubborn. Let me help you.” Jake caught her arm again to steady her.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  Jake sighed. “Yes, I know, but you’ve got it anyway.”

  Before Mel could reply, Pop shuffled up. “What in the hell’s goin’ on here?”

  “Mel got a face full of dirt,” Jake remarked dryly, releasing her.

  “I can see that for myself. Damn me, darlin’, your face looks like a cat scratched it.”

  Flustered, Mel reached for her face, her fingers testing the skin on her cheek. Her father was right. She felt the scrapes. They were tender to touch.

  “How’d Dreamcatcher do?” Pop’s attention shifted to the stallion. Dave held the horse’s bridle as he circled, snorted and tossed his head.

  “I’ve already given him the once-over,” Dave spoke up. “He’s okay. Just full of himself as usual.”

  “Won’t hurt to go over him again.” Seeming satisfied, Pop turned back to gaze calmly at his daughter. “Now, how’d this happen, darlin’?”

  “I don’t know. One minute we were going down the straight away, and the next I was upside down in the dirt.”

  With one wheel gone, the cart rested at an awkward angle. Pop knelt beside it.

  “Can’t tell exactly what happened. Nut and bolt are gone, though.” He struggled to his feet. “Guess that’s what ya get with old equipment.”

  Mel heard the irritation in his voice. Their newest jog cart had been burned in the fire. This one was old, but until now, serviceable. Putting her sore foot down to regain her balance, Mel drew everyone’s attention back to herself.

  “Now what’s happened to you, darlin’?” Pop asked.

  “Nothing, just sprained my ankle or something.” Mel’s gaze went from her father to Jake, daring him to make a comment.

  “Makes ya tough,” her father said with a shrug of a shoulder. “But you need to get off your feet and have that looked after.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” Before Mel had time to blink, Jake swept her into his arms.

  “Put me down!”

  “Hush, you stubborn, pig-headed woman.” Jake strode toward the barn.

  Mel squirmed in his arms, humiliated beyond belief. Other trainers in the practice area turned to watch. She thought she heard Pop chuckle.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she demanded.

  “Because this is the fastest way to get you to the barn.” His shameless grin deepened the furrows of his cheeks.

  Mel fought her fury. She fought her sensual awareness of his lean, hard body. Her breath came in gulps, as if she were the one walking. She was too intensely conscious of his strong, musky aftershave, and the steady beat of his heart. His beard-roughened cheek chafed her own. Was she softening toward him?

  “I can walk.” Mel’s protest sounded weak even to her ears.

  “Sure you can, but we’ve got to get you ready to ride.”

  Mel stiffened in his arms. What made her think he was concerned about her?

  “Don’t worry,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. “I’ll ride tonight, and I’ll win that damn class.”

  * * * *

  “Does it hurt much?” Seeming subdued by the accident, Cory stood beside Mel’s chair in the hallway of the stable.

  “Not much.” Mel replied, her injured leg propped up on another chair, an ice bag covering her bare foot.

  “How are you gonna put a boot on?”

  Mel marveled at the child’s perception. Her left ankle was swollen and painful, but the doctor had proclaimed it only a mild sprain.

  Glancing at Cory, Mel smiled and drawled, “Verrry carefully.”

  Cory giggled. “Silly, I know that.”

  Mel relented. “Seriously, Vanessa brought me her riding boots. I’ll wear them. See how they lace up, so the left one will fit over my swollen foot. I won’t have to pull it on.”

  She held up the borrowed boot for Cory’s inspection, and then bent over to wrap her injured ankle.

  “I still don’t know how you’re gonna ride.” Cory stood over her, watching intently.

  Mel wondered herself, but she wasn’t going to let on. She was determined to ride, just as she was determined not to complain.

  “It won’t hurt that much to ride.”

  Mel relished the child’s presence and her real concern. That she cared for others was a good sign. That she cared for the woman who was her mother made Mel’s heart wrench. Cory’s curiosity and gumption also pleased her. Once again she was thankful that her gutsy decision years ago had paid off. Cory had turned into a bright, happy little girl.

  “Need any help?” Jake walked down the shed row.

  I’ve had enough help from you. Mel didn’t say anything. The memory of being carried in his arms was too fresh, her emotions too raw. She slanted a hard look at him.

  His gaze seized hers and he grinned impudently. He knows what he’s doing to me. Mel’s cheeks grew hot, an all too common practice around Jake.

  “Still going through with this?” he asked, his husky voice making her lightheaded. “You don’t have to, you know.”

  “What do you think?”

  Jake shrugged. “At least let me help you with the bandage.” Before she could protest, he knelt and took the bandage from her hands. “You’re sure making a mess of this.”

  Mel was unable to speak. With his shoulders stooped and his head bent, Jake looked strangely vulnerable as he knelt before her. She longed to reach out and touch his bowed head, to tangle her fingers in his hair. She longed to kiss his misplaced dimple.

  The feel of his powerful hands on her bare foot sent a wave of desire surging through her body. She fought these indecent sensations as he placed the end of the bandage on her instep and rolled it three times around her foot. Already churning because of pre-show nerves, her stomach knotted. Slowly, Jake moved the bandage around the ankle and downward across the front of the foot in a figure eight pattern. Mel watched his experienced hands. Her eyelashes drifted across her eyes as she swayed ever so slightly, her imagination causing other violent waves of desire to track through her body. He touched her instep once more, and she drew in a sharp intake of breath.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  Mel’s eyes flew open. Jake’s gaze was level with hers, his expression unreadable.

  “No, no. I’m fine.” She could barely talk.

  Jake lowered his gaze and continued with his task. She had to face the way she felt about him. She realized she couldn’t react so physically toward him, or she’d nev
er be able to work with him until the Louisville show. She had to toughen up. Try to avoid him and curb her unbridled responses to him.

  “I think I can put on my own boot.” Mel snatched Vanessa’s boot from his hand and shoved it over the bandage.

  Jake stood up and backed away. “Sure thing.”

  Mel didn’t miss the wink he directed at Cory. The little girl’s face beamed, as if she had witnessed a wonderful secret. Mel wondered what she had failed to see, or was it that Cory had sensed her response to Jake? Mel frowned. When she finished lacing both boots, she straightened, placing her hands on the arms of the chair. Trying once more to fight down her awareness of the man nearby, Mel pushed herself out of the chair and tested her foot on the ground. It didn’t hurt too much. Not any more than she could tolerate.

  Dave led Royalty’s Dreamer up and made him stretch out.

  “Here’s your derby, Mel.” Cory handed her a black, wool hat and grinned up at her.

  Mel settled it on her head and then pulled on black, leather gloves.

  “I think you’ve forgotten something else, madam.”

  Mel glanced up to see Jake holding a red rose in one hand and a long pin in another.

  Her eyebrow arched. “What now?”

  “I know you’ve about had all the help from me you can stomach, but I think this time it’s a must.” Jake said, suppressing a grin. “That is, if you want your boutonniere pinned on your lapel. Cory’s so small, she’d pin it to your knee.”

  “I would not!” Cory protested, kicking dirt at Jake.

  He wants to ruffle my feathers. Okay, just let him. She thrust out her chin and took a steadying breath.

  “Hurry up,” she said, averting her eyes.

  Jake stepped forward. He touched the lapel of her coat, overwhelming her with his nearness. Mel shut her eyes as he pinned on the red rose, but, as she stood motionless, she felt his warmth and heard the rhythm of his breath.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad.” Jake’s voice had changed, lowering an octave.

  Mel glanced at him. His eyes glowed for a moment, and then raw sexual attraction vibrated once more between them. Her throat dry, she stared at him like a gawky teen stares at a movie idol.

  “I’ll give you a leg up,” he offered, his voice thick with emotion.