Page 67 of One in a Million
Roper sighed. “Fine. I’ll be there. But if I notice you fading, you’re going straight to your room.”
He waited for a snappy retort. When it didn’t come, his thoughts began to wander to other concerns. As he’d left the stable early today, there were people still finishing their work. He’d given Cruiser the responsibility of staying to close up, which included checking every stall and making sure the outside doors were latched. But with Cruiser’s girlfriend, Janae, around, the kid was running on hormones. If he hadn’t done his job, he was asking to be fired.
After he got Lila safely home, Roper would check everything in the stable. Cruiser had been given a second chance. If anything was left undone, there would be no third chance.
* * *
After delivering Lila to the house and alerting Mariah that she might need help, Roper went out to check the stable. He found the outside door not only unlatched but ajar. Cruiser’s motorcycle was gone. The young Romeo would get his walking papers in the morning.
Roper walked up and down the rows of stalls, checking each one. Most of the horses were all right, but some still needed hay and water. Roper took care of them and made sure the brood mares and their foals, brought inside while the predator was at large, were safe.
Million Dollar Baby was in her roomy box stall. As Roper paused to check on her, she thrust her elegant head over the gate, nickering for attention. Roper stopped to stroke her white face. “Getting spoiled, are you, Baby?” he murmured. “Just wait till you win the shootout this coming week, and then the Run for a Million. You’ll find out what real spoiling is.”
As he turned to go, she caught his sleeve with her teeth, as if trying to tell him something. Laughing, he tugged himself free and continued down the row of stalls to One in a Million’s new quarters.
Roper had made the decision not to put the stallion back in his old stall. The horse had made progress since witnessing Frank’s death. But going back to where the trauma had taken place might reawaken bad memories. Why risk it, as long as One in a Million was comfortable in his new home?
But what was wrong with him now? As Roper entered the stall, the stallion snorted, tossed his head, and stamped restlessly in the straw. Maybe there was a mare in estrus nearby, and he could smell her.
“Easy, big boy.” Roper stroked the massive neck, feeling the tightness in the stallion’s muscles. Nothing seemed amiss in the stable—in fact, most of the other horses were calm. But One in a Million was unhappy about something. Roper checked his belly for any sign of colic. Nothing. There was a healthy pile of manure in a corner of his stall. He’d eaten some hay, and he had plenty of water. There were no snakes in his bedding straw or his feeder. Everything seemed fine.
Roper left the stable, making sure the outside doors were securely latched. That done, he washed his hands at the tap and went back to the house to join Lila and the others for dinner.
* * *
Given short notice, Mariah had made spaghetti with salad and garlic bread. The seven people seated around Elias Culhane’s great plank table filled their plates and began to eat—some, like Sam, with gusto. Others, like Madeleine and Simone, toying with their food as if they didn’t trust their hostess.
Lila had taken her seat at the head of the table, Frank’s traditional place. Her unspoken message was clear. She was the head of the Culhane family, and anybody who wanted to take her place would have a fight on their hands.
She was conscious of Darrin’s glare. He was sending a message of his own—that as a man, and a blood Culhane, that place at the table belonged to him.
Had Darrin been the one who’d damaged her brakes? She remembered Frank mentioning that his son had enjoyed tinkering with cars as a teenager. He probably knew enough to have done the damage. But how many other men—and even women—on the ranch had that same level of expertise? How many cowboys and stable hands would have grown up fixing their own cars? How many among them would have sabotaged her Porsche for a generous and discreet offer of cash?
She had taken the bandage off her head. The pain was about the same. She’d also put on a fresh blouse and slacks, brushed the tangles out of her hair, and dabbed makeup over the visible bruises. She looked all right. But barely all right. And she felt worse than she looked. Roper was watching her, his dark gray eyes revealing his worry. She gave him a forced smile, as if to reassure him that she was fine. His answering nod told her that he knew better.
Conversation was awkward. Lila had planned on being a sparkling hostess. She couldn’t quite muster the energy, but she had to try.
“Darrin, I hear you’ve enlisted Charlie to help you catch that awful animal,” she said.
“It’s about time we did it right,” Darrin said. “Charlie’s a professional hunter. And even though he won’t admit it, we all know that beast must have escaped from his menagerie.”
“So, Charlie knows what it is?” Sam asked.
“I’m sure he does. But we made a deal. As long as he helps us kill the thing, he’s not to be held responsible.”
“Just be careful, Darrin,” Simone said. “This baby is going to need a father.”
Ignoring her, Darrin turned to his sister. “Speaking of Charlie, Jasmine, what’s he doing with your Corvette? He said he made a trade for it. Dad gave you that car. I thought you loved it.”
Jasmine, wearing a blue sundress, shrugged. “I did. But I traded it for something I needed more than a car.”
“What on earth would that be?” Darrin demanded. “That car’s got to be worth close to a hundred thousand dollars.”
“That, brother dear, is my own business. I don’t owe you, or anybody else here, an explanation.”
“Well, I hope you’re not expecting me to buy you another car,” Madeleine said. “Until you learn to appreciate the value of money, you’ll just have to make do. Honestly, Jasmine, when are you going to grow up and become responsible?”
“I’m trying,” Jasmine said. “Leave me to make my own way, and I might surprise you.”