The Heart Of The Game (23 page)

Ryan patted Liza on the rump and encouraged her to roam. But she didn’t budge.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did with Barney last week, Cody. He’s way better.” Ryan turned to Zoe. “Cody has a way with animals. Darnedest thing I’ve ever seen. He made more progress in reducing Barney’s PTSD in an hour than any of the fancy trainers I’ve had coming in for the past three weeks. He has magic hands.”

“Barney’s a quick learner,” Cody said, deflecting the praise.

Zoe blushed when Cody caught her staring at his hands. She knew plenty about the magic in them.

No pleasure in Zoe’s life had felt as good as Cody’s hands on her body. Except maybe his lips tasting her.

“I’ve experienced his magic.”

That hadn’t come out right.

Before Ryan could tease her, she added, “He helped with one of my geldings.”

At the sound of Cara calling his name, Ryan turned toward the house.

“Casey’s almost too big to carry,” he said as he waved at Cara bounding down the back steps with the baby on her hip. Ryan hit Cody playfully on the arm. “Carting around a toddler will build up your muscles faster than you can imagine. I may not need my gym this winter.”

They all watched as Cara and Casey caught up to them.

Ryan scooped Casey from Cara’s arms and set him atop Liza.

“He’s going to be a class A rider someday,” Cara said. “Maybe even a polo champ.” She winked at Zoe.

“Like hell,” Ryan said. “No way I’m getting into all that. Next thing you know I’d be rescuing cast-off polo ponies. Those and racehorses require special facilities. And loads more time than I have during the season.”

Cody stepped beside Ryan and steadied the giggling Casey on the donkey’s back.

“Okay to take him for a spin?” Cody asked.

“Watch out for gopher holes.” Cara laughed.

Zoe watched as Cody led the little boy and donkey toward the middle of the pasture. Cody leaned down and whispered something to Casey, and Casey let out a high-pitched squeal of joy.

“Tell me that you didn’t just promise him a saddle,” Cara called across the pasture to them.

Cody blushed.

“He’s
impossible
,” Cara said. “I don’t know who he spoils more when he comes out here for batting practice, Casey or Liza. When he has kids, I’m going to go all out spoiling them rotten. It’ll serve him right.”

“Maybe I’ll buy them their first Bugattis,” Ryan said with a knowing grin to his wife.

No words were needed to explain the love that flowed between Cara and Ryan. Zoe felt it to her toes. Just as she felt an odd sadness as she watched Cody grinning while he led Liza and Casey around the far side of the pasture. He seemed so good with kids, she couldn’t imagine what trauma had made him so clearly against having any of his own. It struck her that she barely knew him—something she was more than ready to remedy.

“Would you bring him in for his nap?” Cara asked Ryan. “I have a few things to finish up before the East Coast office closes.” She eyed Zoe. “We’d all be very sorry in about half an hour if we didn’t put him down for some shut-eye. Like his dad, he gets fussy unless he has a nap.”

“Not true,” Ryan protested as he headed across the pasture to lift a protesting Casey from Liza’s back.

“The food’s ready,” Cara said. “
If
you can drag Cody away from the animals.”

They left Zoe standing in the pasture, staring at Cody and Liza. Did Cara and Ryan think they were a couple?

One of the smaller donkeys wandered over to her and sniffed at her sweater.

“No treats,” she said, rubbing its neck. The donkey’s ribs showed and the patchiness of his coat told her that he hadn’t been at Ryan’s refuge for very long.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Cody said as he slipped an arm around her. He kissed the bare skin of her neck. “Would it be rude to skip out on the meal?”

“I wish I could say no,” Zoe said. “But yes, it would be, especially considering all the work Cara put into the cooking.”

He crooked his arm. “Lead on, then. But you should know that there are many activities I’d much rather be doing.” He grinned. “Many other delicacies I’d rather be tasting.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “And all of them involve you.”

They walked through the fenced back paddock. As he turned to close the gate behind them, Liza charged straight for Cody, braying loudly.

“Told you she didn’t like sharing.” He stroked Liza. “It’s okay, girl. I’ll be back. I promise.”

Zoe leaned her elbows on the gate and watched the little donkey submit to the bliss of Cody’s hands. But then she nosed over to Zoe.

“She knows a good thing when she sees one.” Cody chuckled. “Fickle creature.”

Zoe stroked Liza through the fence.

“You know, you have a way with animals too,” Cody told her. “I feel it.”

“I love them. Sometimes more than people.” She motioned to the grazing donkeys. “This a wonderful refuge Ryan has created.”

“When Ryan’s dad found out his son put heaters in the barn, Ryan told me he nearly went into shock. His dad’s an East Texas rancher, hard-core old school. But I heard that once he met Liza here, he was a goner too.”

He touched his hand to Zoe’s arm. Warmth sizzled into her, and she wanted to purr.

“The way you love animals—have you ever thought about maybe starting a refuge?” he asked.

Although the idea struck solid in her heart, she didn’t have the land for such an undertaking in Italy. Certainly not enough to rescue horses. It just wouldn’t be feasible. Land near Rome cost a fortune even greater than hers.

Before she could formulate her thoughts, he added, “You could easily run fences in those acres behind the old crush pad, near where Scotty and I finished up that back fence. Your brother said the soil in that area’s no good for grapes, but it’d be great for horses. I’d be glad to help.”

But she wasn’t staying and therefore wouldn’t be running fences or anything else on that land.

And no part of her had the will to tell him right then.

Not when every pulse of her heart was screaming that she should reconsider.

“I’ll think about it,” she finally said. And instantly regretted not telling him the truth straight out. Putting the truth into words couldn’t have made her feel any worse; she knew she was leaving soon and not coming back.

Maybe sharing the news with Cody would lessen the growing sting.

She angled her head, studying the strong lines of his face as they returned to the house.

But maybe telling him that she was leaving would have him pulling away and turning his attention to a woman who lived in the area. A woman he could enjoy for months or years rather than only days.

And just maybe not saying anything would allow her to lie to herself. Let her ignore the warring impulses inside her, the one that needed her to leave and the one that now wanted to stay.

“I’ll think about it,” she said again, knowing there was nothing left to think about.

The sounds of celebration hummed through the great hall at Trovare as Cody took his place next to Zoe near one end of the massive table set for the Thanksgiving feast. Ropes of woven flower garlands and greenery snaked along its center, and dozens of candles gave the room a soft glow. He was still uncomfortable in Alex’s opulent home, but he couldn’t deny that the place had a spirit he was coming to love. He supposed it was because instead of being constructed to impress, like the homes of the McCormacks and other wealthy people he’d known, Trovare castle and its grounds had been crafted to bring a dream to life. Every room, every mural, every stone told a story.

“I think I love Thanksgiving best of the American holidays,” Jackie said from her place next to him as she scooped mashed potatoes from the bowl Cody held for her. “What’s your favorite?” she asked when in turn she held the bowl for him.

He took up the silver serving spoon and let out a slow breath. Holidays of any sort had been tough the past few years. He’d gone with a couple of his buddies in the minor leagues to their homes for Easter and Christmas, but spending holidays with his teammates’ families had never felt right. Last Thanksgiving had been a low point. He’d stayed in, bought some takeout. And had never felt lonelier in his life.

“I’m not much on family,” Cody answered honestly. “So holidays aren’t the easiest times for me.”

He turned to hold the bowl for Zoe and caught her staring at him as if he’d just admitted to a grievous sin.

“You’re always welcome here,” Alex said from his place at the head of the long table. “
If
you can put up with us,” he added with a grin.

As Cody thanked him, it occurred to him that Alex could’ve been a statesman instead of a ballplayer. Hell, he was a statesman in the game. He’d been a player rep during the strike a few years back; the trust he’d earned from both sides had averted a season shutdown. And Alex mentored players in his own quiet and generous way. There were others on the team who might eventually take his place when—if—Alex ever made good on his threat to retire, but they’d never be the wise and inspiring force that Alex was. Some guys were just one of a kind.

“A toast to our host,” Jake Ryder said, raising his glass to a chorus of cheers and the clattering sound of glasses clinking.

Cody picked up his champagne glass and clicked it against Zoe’s, then took a sip, but didn’t have another. What with the fast-flying family banter, the customary razzing of his teammates, and his strong desire to carry Zoe off somewhere, anywhere, and kiss her senseless, he needed to keep his wits about him. It’d been two weeks since he’d seen her at Ryan and Cara’s and nearly a week since they’d made a movie date she’d regretfully had to cancel. Family obligations, she’d said. He hadn’t needed any reminder to know that in her mind family came first.

Zoe tipped her champagne flute to her lips and swallowed. “Mmmmm,” she purred, running her tongue along her lower lip. Cody nearly groaned with the urge she fired in him. She held out her glass, tipping it so the bubbles danced in the candlelight. “Californians may have great reds, but no one beats the French for champagne.”

He’d barely been able to take his eyes off her since she’d walked into the room just before dinner. The silver-white clingy dress she wore made him crazy just looking at her. When she’d entered the room, Jake had eyed her and winked. Cody was sure he’d scowled at his jovial teammate. Luckily Zoe’s sister Coco had captured Jake’s full attention, or Cody might’ve bared his teeth and growled.

Cody had ridden over with Jake and had been glad for the company. He’d been apprehensive about the holiday celebration and even more nervous about seeing Zoe again. She’d crowded into his thoughts, and the fact that he didn’t want to stop thinking about her addled him more.

Adding to his apprehension was the call he’d received from his dad earlier in the week. Talk about bad timing. His father’s sources had uncovered a data trail suggesting that Santino Tavonesi might be involved in questionable Mafia dealings. The early evidence was sketchy at best, and his dad reminded him not to jump to any conclusions. Those sorts of trails could be deceiving, he’d said, not always what they seemed.

When Cody had hung up the phone, it struck him: the conversation had been civil. No, more than civil—emotion flowed under it, through their words. They’d somehow become a team again, like in the old days when his dad would pitch to him in the back field after dinner. Cody had expected months, maybe years of wariness, of tentative get-togethers and a slow return to normalcy. But his father’s confession and apology had overcome Cody’s years of hard, burning anger and incinerated the grudge he’d held, blowing it away like ashes in a powerful wind.

“To all of us,” Alex toasted, snapping Cody back from his thoughts. “I wish Sabrina and my mother were here, but someone had to join Sabrina in Paris since Kaz had to help his parents with the farm and she couldn’t come home during her film shoot.”

“
Real
hardship duty,” Alana said, laughing from her place across the table. “I’m on the next plane.”

“Me too,” Matt’s daughter, Sophie, piped up. She looked up at Alana. “That is, if I’m invited?”

Alana tucked a strand of hair behind Sophie’s ear. “You have school. But I promise we’ll go sometime soon.”

“Adults have all the fun,” Sophie said with the honesty of a seven-year-old.

“Not all the fun,” Matt said, grinning at the two of them. “We’re really bad at texting.”

From her seat beside Cody, Zoe laughed at Sophie’s dramatic eye rolling.

“She’s the best little one, that girl,” Zoe said. “I never tire of her. Always full of surprises. If I have a daughter, I hope she’s as spirited as Sophie.”

“If you have a daughter, she’ll turn the world on its head,” Cody said.

Zoe frowned, and he regretted speaking his thought.

“I meant that she’ll be...” What
had
he meant? That any child of hers would probably have her mother’s captivating beauty and wild spirit, a spirit that had Zoe racing horses along the beach and playing polo against some of the finest players in the world? That if her daughter had any fraction of her mystery and allure, the men of the world would be defenseless? “She’ll be lovely,” he settled on saying.

Zoe smiled as two spots of color rose on her cheeks. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her with his awkward compliment. For a sophisticated woman, she seemed almost unaware of her own unique qualities.

“Why don’t you spend holidays with your family?” she asked softly.

Surrounded by the chorus of happy voices, he didn’t want to dampen the spirit of the party. But he didn’t want to tell a half-truth either.

“My family isn’t like yours.” He sifted through the images of the past weeks, rapidly charting the events, conversations and—feelings. He wasn’t used to having feelings, let alone facing up to them. “We might’ve been once, but, well... things happened.” Great, really descriptive. She deserved a better answer than that. “My dad’s an alcoholic,” he said baldly. There was just no other way to put it. “He bottomed out, became abusive.” The words flowed on, even though his brain hollered
stop
. “Whatever we had before busted apart so fast that the only sane move I could make was to get out of there. And stay out. Until recently. Very recently.”

Jackie nudged him and handed him a plate of turkey, not looking at him or interrupting her conversation with Alex. Cody was relieved that his confession hadn’t been overheard.

He turned to Zoe and balanced the platter in front of her. She didn’t reach for it, just held him in an unblinking gaze.

She touched her fingertips to his forearm. “I admire your honesty.” She lifted the fork and slid a slice of turkey onto her plate. “Families can be so very complicated, and so often we have no words for the struggles we face.”

She took the platter from his hands and passed it to her right. When she turned back, she flashed one of those smiles that competent hostesses used to segue out of difficult situations. He knew that smile, used it himself sometimes.

“Alex is right,” she told him. “You can always spend holidays with him. There’s plenty of room, and Trovare is meant for such celebrations.”

She didn’t say
with us
, Cody noticed, and the deliberate word choice struck him as odd.

Perhaps the Tavonesis weren’t as problem-free as they appeared. What family could be? So far what he’d seen would put them in the running to film a long version of a cheery Tiffany’s commercial—all they needed was snowflakes and confetti drifting down from above. And yet, they were all humans too. With all the baggage the condition entailed.

He’d found that he liked their family banter, their energy and their obvious love for one another, even if everything
wasn’t
perfect. Maybe
especially
if everything wasn’t perfect. Being around them was like sipping in a lifesaving nectar that made him want more. And, in spite of his long-held reserve, the emotions he’d started to experience gave him hope for the future of his own family. How fast he’d shifted from desiring a focused, controlled life to craving undefined possibilities. He didn’t believe in miracles, but as he savored the touch of Zoe’s fingers on his arm, he found himself wishing that his destiny might include more time with her.

“Honesty is the only compass I choose to follow,” he said, struggling with the unfamiliar yearning dawning in him.

The little muscles around her eyes contracted. He knew her well enough to recognize that she didn’t understand him.

“Honesty is what guides me, keeps me on track.” He covered her hand with his. How could such a simple move seem like a bold gesture? But it did. Especially when her hand didn’t relax under his touch. “Actually, I’m just not savvy enough for all the complications of lying. Keeping all the false threads straight, it’s just not my way.”

She lowered her eyes and drew her hand away. “I understand.”

He was still pondering her reaction when a woman Cody didn’t know entered the room, spotted Zoe, and walked briskly to her. She bent and whispered in Zoe’s ear, and Zoe’s eyes went wide.

“Please tell him I’m going right over,” he heard Zoe say in hushed tones. “Tell him not to worry about anything. And that I’ll feed them first thing in the morning too.”

She rose from her chair. Then sat back down and turned to Cody.

“Alastair’s in the hospital,” she said quietly. “You remember him? The emergency people took him two hours ago. He’s worried about his horses; they haven’t been fed.”

“I’m coming with you,” Cody said, standing.

“You don’t have to, the party...” She waved an arm. “You’ll miss dessert.”

“I’m going,” he repeated, offering his hand. “Where’s your wrap?”

“In the foyer. I’ll just tell Alex.”

“Alastair has no family, no one,” Zoe said as Cody slipped into the driver’s seat of her car. She was glad he’d offered to drive the winding road in the dark night. The news had shaken her more than she’d let on. “Just this afternoon I tried to convince him to come with me tonight, to have dinner with all of us. But he refused.”

“Maybe trying to remain independent is a way old people protect themselves,” Cody said in a calm tone.

“Maybe it’s time he accepted a little more help from neighbors.”

She punched in the number for the hospital and waited while the operator connected her to the emergency room. Her heart beat fast. How had Alastair found his way into her heart in such a short time? Maybe it was his connection to her mother. No, her feelings went deeper than that connection. He was like the grandfather she’d never known—quirky, kind and wise. He
had
asked her for help, but on small things like choosing a paint color for a bedroom in the house he’d built for his son. But he wouldn’t let her help in the stables. Or do anything more than occasionally brush out the horses. He might be stubborn, but she’d come to treasure the occasional afternoons she’d spent at his place. She’d brought him some home-baked goodies and a selection of teas, and had more than once caught him drinking a cup. But he’d refused all further invitations to join the family for meals. Maybe the luncheon he’d attended had been more off-putting than she’d known.