Deception (22 page)

As she was getting ready to get in the truck, she thought of calling Richard Brian. It was ten o’clock Mobile time, which meant it would be seven in Los Angeles. If she was lucky, she’d catch Richard before he went to his gym.

She tossed her keys on the truck seat just as Renata and Danny came up.

“Can we ride?” Danny asked. Renata looked innocently at Connor.

“The ban on riding has been lifted, but I still expect you to do the work I said. The stalls need to be cleaned, Danny, and Renata, get to work on the paddock fence. Jeff can get the paint and a brush for you.”

“Then can we ride?” Renata asked.

There was no trace of malice in the child’s eyes, none in the curve of her soft lips.

“Sure. Work for about an hour and then you can ride. Be back by one so Willene won’t have to wait lunch. And no galloping, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” both children answered in unison. Laughing, they ran toward the barn. Danny disappeared inside, and in a moment Renata had Jeff buttonholed.

Connor considered driving on into town, but she wanted to catch Richard. If she waited, he’d be gone for the day and might not return for hours. Possibly days, if he was on location.

In her office she walked to the big window that looked out on the arena. Renata, her dark curls gleaming in the sun, was dripping paint all over the ground, but she was getting some on the fence. There was a look of determination on her face as she plied the brush, but no sign of resentment or anger.

Connor picked up the phone and dialed Richard’s number, feeling as if she was calling up another planet or another lifetime. Had it really been only a little over three months ago that she’d lived in California? It seemed like an eternity.

“Who the hell is calling so early in the morning?” Richard’s voice was gruff, still filled with sleep.

“What? No workout? No run? Have you got someone in bed with you?”

“Connor?” All sleepiness left Richard’s voice. “Where the hell are you?”

“In your home state of Alabama.” She tried out her drawl and was rewarded with Richard’s laugh.

“You sound like you’re adapting. I’ve enjoyed your letters.” There was a pause. “Is everything okay?”

“And why wouldn’t it be?” she asked.

“Don’t tell me you’re calling because you suddenly realized what a terrible mistake you’d made by throwing me over as the love of your life!”

“I do miss you, Richard.” And she did. Connor had made friends with Willene and Sally, on a certain level. But she missed her California friends, her peers. She hadn’t really gotten to know any other horse people in Alabama. Or anyone else, for that matter, except people who had business at Oaklawn.

“How are things in the humid South?”

“Not so humid. A bit on the cold side. How about you?”

“Fine. I got a part, more than a bit, but certainly not a starring role, in a new Clint Eastwood western. I’m telling you, Connor, those riding lessons were the best investment I’ve ever made.”

Connor laughed, delighted at Richard’s good fortune. Given half a chance, he’d make it big in the movie business. He worked really hard, and he was talented. “That’s wonderful. Good guy or bad?”

“Guess.”

“Let’s see, if there’s a romantic angle, you’re the bad guy with the heart of gold.”

“Hey!” Richard sounded indignant. “How’d you get a copy of the script?”

“I’m pretty darn good at typecasting.”

They shared a laugh, the last chuckles dying away into silence.

“What’s wrong, Connor?” Richard finally asked. “Nothing, really.”

“Your voice says a lot is wrong. You’re not involved with Clay, are you?”

Connor hesitated. “As foolish as this is going to sound to you, I think I’ve fallen in love with him.”

“Despite all my warnings?” Richard sounded more resigned than distressed.

“Despite your warnings and my common sense.”

“I had a feeling that this was inevitable. Clay has just the right mixture of power and sensitivity to attract you. Does he care for you, too?”

“Yes.” Connor swallowed. She felt as if she was making some kind of confession. Her throat was thick with emotion. “What can you tell me about Clay’s brother, Harlan?”

“Harlan the prick.” Richard laughed but it held no hilarity. “He used to torment the piss out of me and Clay. He’d do everything he could to hurt us. Not just kidding around, but really hurt us. He was mean, and pretty smart. When he told us he was going to be a doctor, my first concern was for his patients.”

“He doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

“Wait a minute,” Richard said slowly, “don’t tell me. Harlan has discovered you’re involved with Clay, and he’s paid you a visit warning you away from the political future of Alabama. He sees you as a spoiler for Clay’s ambitions. I mean you’re an independent woman, a creature with a mind and a talent. No one in that cesspool of a state could possibly accept a man who found happiness with an intellectually stimulating piece of ass. Am I headed in the right direction?”

Connor was grinning despite her worry. Richard had a way of phrasing things that made even the worst situations seem mildly ridiculous. “That pretty much hits the nail on the head.”

“Ah, yes, good old Harlan. He wants to ride Clay’s coattails to power. He’s too lazy, and too worthless, to get anything on his own. He’s waiting for Clay to do all the work.”

“Does Clay know that? I mean, if Harlan went to Clay, would Clay know what his brother is up to?”

“Beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

Connor sighed. “That makes me feel slightly better, I guess. Harlan came here this morning, and he really jumped on me.”

“Then he told you not to tell Clay he’d been there, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Typical bully tactics. Tries to frighten you away, but doesn’t want to take the heat from Clay for prying into his personal affairs.”

“What should I do?” Connor asked. “I really love him, and I love him enough to leave if I’d really spoil his chances at a Senate seat.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Richard expected no answer. “I guess the only thing you can do is see what Clay finds more important—you, or the Senate seat. There’s no one except Harlan saying he can’t have both, but if it comes to a choice, Clay has to make it, don’t you think?”

It was the soundest advice Connor had received. “You’re right.”

“I don’t think Clay is the right man for you, Connor. I know you well enough to know that he could break your heart. Not necessarily out of meanness, either. But you expect a certain … loyalty. I’m not sure Clay can give it. You see, in Alabama, there’s always the past. Always. That’s why I like California, a state where the present is all that counts. And whether you want to believe it or not, Clay has a past that he can never escape as long as he lives there. And he won’t ever leave.” A note of anger crept into his voice.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Connor made a quick decision not to repeat the things Clay had told her about Talla. It was his own business, and it didn’t really matter if Richard knew all the details. What mattered was that she believed Clay. What they shared was special, deep. He wouldn’t trash it for some transient pleasure.

“I can tell you’ve formed your own opinion on that matter. I hope you’re right, Connor. If you love him, I hope to God he has enough sense to realize what he’s got and that he treats you right.”

“Only time will tell, Richard. I’m not eager to rush into anything … permanent.”

“My God, are you already talking marriage?” There was awe in Richard’s voice.

“No! That’s never even come up.” Not in conversation, at least. But Connor knew she’d thought about it.

“Thank goodness.” Richard’s relief was palpable. “To tumble into bed with the man was probably inevitable, but don’t marry him! His life’s going to be one public scrutiny after another. I don’t think you’d care for that kind of life very much. Just ignore his brother, have your fun, and save your money. That way you have all your options open when the term of your contract is up. If you and Clay are still hot and heavy, stay a bit longer. If it’s burned itself out, then you can pursue that dream of a horse farm.”

Richard’s words were like pebbles dropping into a deep pond. They struck, resonated, and created far-reaching ripples, but Connor didn’t want to think about them. What she felt for Clay wasn’t the type of thing that burned itself out.

“You really think I should ignore Harlan? Should I tell Clay?”

“Harlan is a jerk. I can promise you, if Clay wanted to get rid of you, he’d tell you himself. He wouldn’t send Harlan to do his business. He wouldn’t send Harlan to the cleaners to get his pants.”

“Thanks, Richard.” A heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “By the way, I’m still looking for one of those Junior League creatures.”

“Ah, the elusive brown-nosed Junior Leaguer. Why, I suppose this time of year you might check those exclusive little Christmas shops. Possibly the tennis courts or brunch tables at the Highridge Country Club. They have a shrill cry. ‘I’ma-snot. I’ma-snot.’ Very distinctive.”

Connor couldn’t help laughing. “Are you sure I shouldn’t check under the azalea bushes in Washington Square? I hear that’s where all of the true Mobilians are born.”

“Bred but not born,” Richard said. “But it never hurts to look there. No telling what might turn up.”

“I miss you, Richard,” Connor said. “I haven’t really had a chance to meet anyone here. I stay with the horses.”

“And with Clay. I’m sure he keeps you busy.”

“He does.” Connor felt the blush on her cheeks. “He said you two used to run around together. From what I hear, neither of you wore a halo.”

“Clay would lure the unsuspecting women into the car with his charm, then I’d grab one and pull her into the back seat and off we’d go to Johnny’s Smokehouse on the Mississippi line for some illegal whisky and some close dancing. Those were the days.”

“Why don’t you come to Mobile for a visit?” Connor proposed. “I know Clay would be glad to have you stay at Oaklawn. And I’d love to see you.”

“I’ll be finished filming at Christmas, and I’ll be home for sure. Thanks for the invite, but my parents would die of humiliation if I came home and stayed at someone else’s house. That just isn’t done, my dear. Children stay in their own homes, or else someone might think there was a family rift. The next thing I know, the gossip would be all over town that I didn’t stay at home because my parents had found out I was a homosexual.”

“Oh, Richard!” Connor didn’t believe half of what he said about Mobile.

“Cross my heart and spit, Connor. That’s how their petty little minds work. Stay there long enough, you’ll find out.”

“I hope not,” she answered, meaning it. “But I will see you at Christmas, won’t I?”

“You can count on it, sweetheart. Just stay clear of Harlan and enjoy your time with Clay. And Connor, remember that almost everyone has an ulterior motive. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to protect yourself.”

“Thanks, Richard. I love you.”

Connor replaced the phone. Her enthusiasm for shopping had been restored, and she hurried back through the barn.

“No galloping, Danny,” she reminded him as she left. “And cool the horses properly when you get back. And please tell Willene I went shopping and that I’ll grab something to eat in town.”

Once back in the truck, Connor headed down the driveway and felt a real sense of freedom. She was spending too much time at Oaklawn. It might do her good to visit some of the other stables in town. She might luck up on the second horse Clay wanted, and she might also luck up on a friend. Her conversation with Richard had made her realize how out of touch and lonely she’d been for someone with her interests.

Connor hooked her foot on the rail at Blakely Farm and watched the five-year-old gelding they called Ribbons take the series of jumps. She’d stopped by the breeding and training facility on the spur of the moment, and she’d lucked out in finding a trainer close to her own age with good sense and a good eye for horseflesh. The horse she was showing was a beautiful animal with clean legs and a steady manner, but he was too small. Clay needed a larger mount. It was a shame, though—in another few years, Ribbons would be perfect for Renata.

Elvie Adams, the trainer and rider, completed the jumps and circled back to where Connor stood at the rail.

“He’s a beauty,” Connor agreed, answering the young woman’s questioning eyes. “He’s everything you said he was. You’ve done a great job with him.” On first sight she’d liked the trainer’s friendly smile and gentle touch on the horse.

“Mostly it’s his breeding.” The raspy voice came from over Connor’s left shoulder. “A horse with good breeding can make even an adequate rider look good.”

Connor turned to confront the older woman who’d spoken. The woman’s lack of sensititivty to her employee’s feelings was appalling.

“I’m Clarissa Barnes, owner of Blakely Farm. Ribbons is one of the foals bred and born here. That’s all, Elvie, take him into the barn and cool him. And do it properly.”

Connor turned to thank the trainer, but the young woman had already turned Ribbons away. There was a tension about Elvie’s shoulders that hadn’t been there when she’d ridden.

“Elvie is a lovely rider,” Connor said, keeping her gaze on the disappearing horse and rider. She’d worked for people like Clarissa Barnes, people who never recognized the hard work or ability of their employees.

“She’s good if someone stays after her.”

Connor forced a smile. “As a trainer myself, I can recognize good work when I see it. I also find I work better in places where my efforts are appreciated.”

“I know who you are.” Clarissa smiled. “You’re quite the talk of the horsey set around here. I’m certain Clay Sumner appreciates your talents.” Clarissa’s small eyes were brightening. “Are you enjoying being Clay’s barn girl?”

“I enjoy my job. Maybe it’s because Mr. Sumner treats me like a professional. You might try that with Elvie.”

Clarissa laughed. Her gray hair, permed into tight spirals, was partially pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard you had a California attitude. That’s one nice thing about Elvie, she’s from around here and she understands her job. And her title. Now about Ribbons. We’re asking fifteen, and don’t try to tell me Clay can’t afford it.”