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What a joke she was.
Desiree swiped impatiently at her wet cheeks, disgusted with the tears that continued to fall. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d cried in the past thirty years, but her stoicism had deserted her completely.
What kind of woman was totally blindsided when her husband asked for a divorce? How could she not have known—she, who prided herself on knowing everything that happened on the ranch? How could she notice a stable boy’s discontent and not see her own husband’s misery? Was she really that blind?
Damn it, why hadn’t he said something, anything, to clue her in to the fact that things had gotten so bad that divorce was the only option? When had he decided? Divorce papers weren’t drawn up overnight—no matter how rich you were. How long had he known? How many days had he sat across from her at breakfast and known that he didn’t love her anymore? How many nights had he worked beside her in the study knowing that he was leaving?
Yes, she’d recognized that things were going downhill between Jesse and her, just as she’d recognized that she was mostly to blame. But she’d thought she had all the time in the world to fix it, had put it off until a more convenient time. Until the kids were on their own. Until the ranch didn’t need her so much.
Until Jesse no longer needed her at all. She really was her father’s daughter after all.
JESSE TOOK THE STAIRS three at a time, desperate to get some fresh air. He was nauseous, his gut churning sickly as he realized he’d taken the last, irrevocable step necessary to end the relationship that had shaped most of his adult life. To sever all ties between himself and the love of his life. And he’d done it right before Christmas, on their daughter’s wedding day. Could he have picked a worse day?
Slamming the front door behind him, he sucked huge gulps of air into his suddenly starving lungs. He closed his eyes, only to open them again as he saw Desiree’s stricken face dancing on the back of his closed eyelids. Guilt ate at him making him even angrier because she was so clearly the one in the wrong.
He hadn’t planned on doing it today, had had no intention of hurting Desiree on what should have been one of the happiest days of her life.
He’d been holding on to those papers for almost three weeks now—asking himself if he really wanted to go through with it. Telling himself he’d talk to her after the wedding, after Christmas, when things had settled down and they could discuss—rationally—what they should do about their pathetic excuse for a marriage.
But when he’d found out about the new trainer—about his replacement, for God’s sake—he’d stopped thinking altogether. Fury had taken over, and it had been all he could do to keep from finding Mike and stuffing that damn article down his shrewd yet well-intentioned throat.
Jesse’s hand slipped into his pocket of its own accord and he was staring at the fragment of newspaper before he realized what he was doing. As his eyes skimmed over the headline—again—he found himself thinking back on his conversation earlier that morning with Mike.
“Jesse Rainwater. You’re just the man I’ve been wanting to see.”
Startled by the unfamiliar voice booming from his living room, Jesse spilled some of the water he’d been pouring into the base of the eight-foot Christmas tree as he turned to investigate. A large sandy-haired man wearing a hat and suit was walking toward him, right hand extended.
“Mike?” he asked, eyebrows raised as he recognized the famous Thoroughbred rancher from Kentucky. “What are you doing here?” He put the watering can on a nearby table and headed toward the living room, grasping the man’s outstretched hand in his own.
“I’m in town for the ceremony, of course. I couldn’t miss my only nephew’s wedding, could I?”
Jesse grinned. “Right. How did I manage to forget you were James’s uncle?”
“Probably cuz things have been so crazy I wasn’t able to make the engagement party or much of anything else.”
“That would do it. I’m not sure if James is even here yet, but—”
“No, the boy’s still at the hotel with his folks. I came early because I wanted to talk to you.”
“Really? Well, have a seat.” He gestured to the bar. “Can I get you something?”
“Much obliged—whiskey, straight up.” Mike sat on the couch, stretching his long booted feet out in front of him. “I’m sure you’re busy today, so I won’t take up much of your time.”
“All right.” Jesse hoped he’d make it quick. He had a number of things he needed to get done—including checking on a couple of the horses and making sure the garden was properly set up before he changed for the ceremony.
“I’ve been watching you for a while, Jesse. Well, me and the rest of the horseracing community, that is.”
“I’ve been watching you, too,” Jesse answered. “That’s part of the game, isn’t it?”
“It is at that. But I’ve taken a personal interest in you, particularly with what’s been going on with Cherokee’s Dream and Born Lucky.”
Stiffening at the mention of two of his own line of horses—a line that had been bred and trained away from the Triple H—Jesse stared at Mike through narrowed eyes. “They’re not for sale.”
Mike snorted, a broad grin on his tough, sun-wrinkled face. “I didn’t expect they would be. I don’t want to buy either of those horses.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to come and work with me.”
Jesse laughed. “Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen.”
“I’m serious. I want—”
“Look, Mike, I’m not looking for new employment. And if I was, my wife would have something to say about me going to work for a major competitor.”
“I bet she would at that.” Mike took his hat off, tapped it against his thigh. “But I don’t want you to work for me. I want to make you a partner.”
“A partner? In what?”
“In my ranch, man. In Whistling Winds.”
Thousands of thoughts whirled in Jesse’s head as he stared at the man sitting across from him, but none of them made any sense. “You want to partner with the Triple H? I’ll be honest—you need to be talking to Desiree. I don’t think she’ll go for it, but this is her ranch—”
“I didn’t say anything about partnering with Desiree or the Triple H. I said I wanted to make you a partner in the ranch.”
“Me?” Jesse ran a hand through his hair, totally bewildered by the completely unexpected offer. “Do you need money, Mike?”
Mike’s laugh boomed out and he reached forward to slap Jesse on the back. “Not at all, man. Not at all.”
“Then I don’t understand what you’re getting at. Why come all the way here and offer a partnership in your ranch? You’ve always guarded that ranch like a jealous fishwife.”
“I still do. Much, I think, as Desiree guards this one.” He leaned forward, took a sip of his drink. “Am I right?”
He was exactly right, but Jesse wouldn’t admit it. He might be unhappy with the state of affairs on the ranch—and in his marriage—but he wasn’t going to broadcast it. “That’s pretty much the nature of the beast.”
Mike nodded, apparently satisfied at his response. “Exactly.”
“So, that still leaves me in the dark as to why you want to offer me part of your ranch.”
“Not just part, Jesse. I’m willing to offer you one-third of Whistling Winds, turned over to you as soon as you sign the papers.”
“One-third? What the hell do you want from me in return? My firstborn?”
“Hell, no.” Mike laughed again. “I’ve got four kids of my own—I don’t have room for any more. I want you to bring that small stable of horses you’ve developed away from here to breed and train on my ranch. I want those horses, and any others that you breed, buy or train, to run for the W.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“My work is here. My life is here. I’m married to Desiree and I’ve been head trainer on the Triple H for over thirty years.”
“What have you got to show for it?”
He bristled before he could stop himself. “What does that mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Everyone knows Desiree holds the strings on this ranch so tight that you’ll never get a piece of it, whether you’re her husband or not.” He lifted a hand as though to forestall the explosion Jesse felt rising within him. “I can see I’ve touched a sore spot and that wasn’t my intention. Nor am I insulting Desiree. She’s done a hell of a job with this ranch since Big John died. No one can deny that or help being impressed by it.
“But at the same time, we both know this ranch wouldn’t be where it is today if it didn’t have you.”
“Mike—”
“I’m getting old, we both are, and neither of us have time to sit around and blow smoke up each other’s asses. You’re the best trainer in North America, probably in the whole damn world. You’ve got the best eye for horseflesh I’ve ever seen and I need that eye, those skills, for my ranch.
“I’ve got the second-best Thoroughbred ranch in North America—you know it and so do I. I also know that the Triple H is better, and that’s because of you. I don’t want to get between you and your wife, and I’m not asking you to choose. I don’t want you to come to my ranch and train my horses.”
“You want me to come to your ranch and train my horses?” Jesse couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice.
“Exactly.” Mike slapped his hat on his knee again. “And when they win—which we both know they will do—the credit goes to your brand. And mine.”
“Of course. I get one-third of your ranch and you get—”
“The rights to half of your brand. We both know that in three to five years Cherokee Dreaming will be the premier name on the racing circuit. And I have to assume Desiree knows it, too. Yet she hasn’t made you a partner, has barely acknowledged that your stable exists.”
“Mike—”
“I don’t mean any disrespect to your wife, Jesse. God knows I’m not stupid enough to think that’s the way to get you to agree with me. What I’m asking is if you want to be a part of something great. Not just work for a great ranch, but be part owner of one. You’ll have the same freedom with your line that you’ve always had, but you’ll have one hell of a financial backing behind you. You won’t have to stable the line away from the ranch, won’t have to fit in its development in your spare time. It’d be your only focus, your only responsibility and you’d get one-third of the profits brought in to my ranch by any of my horses.”
Mike leaned forward, took a long swallow of his drink. “You’d be a fool to say no.”
Jesse stood, walked slowly to the front window that looked out over the Triple H. This ranch had been his home for the past thirty-three years. Truth be told, Desiree had been his home all these long years. He’d decided weeks ago that he needed to find a new home, when he’d finally figured out that he couldn’t be what Desiree wanted anymore.
He’d made his own plans, had expected to buy an acre or two of land somewhere and train his horses. He’d anticipated staying in Texas because he wanted to be close to his kids. But he’d never imagined an offer like this, had never dreamed of becoming a full partner in a ranch with the stature of Whistling Winds.
How could he have expected a relative stranger to make an offer like this when his own wife had never even considered offering him half as much? He turned, regarding Mike Jacoby through narrowed eyes.
He’d always respected him, had often been impressed with how he ran his ranch. “Still, we both know I’d be a fool to do anything right now.”
Mike smiled as he settled his hat back on his head. “You’re right. It’s a big day for you and Desiree.” He reached for the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket, pulling out a group of folded papers. “Here’s the contract I’ve had drawn up. Look it over, let your lawyer look at it, whatever. Make notes on what you want changed and we’ll negotiate.”
“Look, Mike, I really don’t think this is going to work.”
“Well, I do. So take your time, think it over. A lot of the stuff in there is negotiable.”
Jesse eyed the other man curiously. “What makes you so sure I’m going to go along with this? I am married to one of your biggest competitors, after all.”
Mike stared at him for a long time, all sense of levity gone from him. Finally, just when Jesse thought he wouldn’t answer, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded up newspaper. “This ran a few weeks ago in the Louisville Courier-Journal. It made me think that now might be the time to put my plans into action.” Dropping the newspaper article on the glass coffee table, he tapped a broad index finger on it a few times before rising to leave.
He stopped at the door. “If I’m wrong, then I apologize for bothering you. But the fact that you’ve listened this long makes me think I’m not wrong.” He paused, then with a heavy sigh said, “I’m not screwin’ with you, Jesse. Thirty-three percent of my ranch and the freedom to breed and train your horses any way you want. Give it some thought.”
Jesse watched him slip out the front door, and though he knew that he needed to get going, he picked up the article Jacoby had left. Even knowing that he wouldn’t like what it had to say couldn’t prevent him from skimming the words.
Desiree Hawthorne-Rainwater, sole owner of the Triple H Thoroughbred Ranch, has long been revered in horse-racing circles for her knowledge and dedication to producing some of the best racehorses in the country and perhaps the world. Hawthorne-Rainwater has often attributed her success to her husband and head trainer, Jesse Rainwater, who she claims is “The best Thoroughbred trainer working in the world today.” Yet, despite these claims, Hawthorne-Rainwater has recently, and discreetly, signed trainer Tom Bradford to replace Hawthorne as the Triple H’s head trainer as early as January.
Rainwater has been at the Triple H for thirty-three years, having been hired by horse-racing legend Big John Hawthorne to revolutionize the historic Thoroughbred ranch’s breeding and training programs. During his tenure, Rainwater has never had a year when one of the three-year-olds he’s trained failed to win at least one of the races in the Triple Crown of horseracing—the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes. Many years, including this past one, his horses have won two of the races.
But a source close to Hawthorne-Rainwater cites her frustration at never having won all three races in one year—and therefore capturing the much-sought-after Triple Crown—as the number-one reason she has chosen to replace her husband after so many years. “Desiree has spent an incredible amount of time, money and effort to make sure she has the best ranch in the business. Her husband’s failure to produce a horse capable of capturing the Triple Crown has become a frustration for her in recent years, one that she is no longer content to sit by and accept as inevitable. She believes Tom Bradford can bring the missing ingredient to the Triple H’s training program and hopefully guarantee the ranch its first Triple Crown winner in over forty years.”
Many in the horseracing community are surprised and unimpressed with Hawthorne-Rainwater’s choice. “Jesse is the best trainer I’ve ever seen,” says Baron Richardson, owner of the Bar L Thoroughbred Ranch of Louisville, Kentucky. “He has a natural affinity for horses that is rare, even in these circles. Tom Bradford is a good man and a great trainer, but he’s not in Rainwater’s class.”
Bradford, who is currently employed by the Bells-and-Whistles Ranch of Atlanta, has produced numerous award-winning racehorses in the course of his career, including Jacy’s Fancy, Hell’s Bells and Whistling Dixie. Whistling Dixie, who has won over thirty races in her career, is best known for winning the Belmont Stakes in 2001.
Rainwater, who has trained such impressive horses as Crown’s Majesty, Crown’s Rhapsody and Royal Jewel, has recently started his own stable of horses—Cherokee Dreaming—a venture that many believe is partially responsible for Hawthorne-Rainwater’s change of heart. The horses of Dreaming Cherokee—trained by Rainwater and his oldest son, Rio—have already made a strong impression in the
American horseracing community.
NOW, HOURS LATER THE agony still nearly brought him to his knees.
How could Desiree have done this to him? To them? How could she have gone behind his back and hired someone to replace him without even giving him a heads-up?
He shook his head. But then again, why was he surprised? Desiree had always run this ranch how she wanted and to hell with what he or anyone else had to say.
His hand clenched involuntarily, crumpling the paper into a ball before he could think better of it. Part of him wanted to keep the article so that he could hurl it at her later when the inevitable confrontation came. But that was a childish desire, one he knew he wouldn’t give in to—no matter how angry she made him.
Besides, what was the use? The damage was done, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive her her duplicity.
With a sigh Jesse tossed the crumpled article at the nearest trash can—one of at least forty Desiree had had placed around the grounds for the upcoming ceremony and reception. Though he wanted nothing more than to sit in his study and brood, there was work to be done. His time at the Triple H was clearly coming to an end, but for now the horses were still his responsibility. He wouldn’t let them down.
As he headed away from the house, he couldn’t stop himself from turning and staring up at their bedroom window. Had she signed the papers? What would he do if she refused?
What would he do if she didn’t?
CHAPTER TWO
DESIREE GAVE HERSELF A few more minutes to cry, but she was a Hawthorne through and through—her father had drilled the pride and responsibility of the name into her from an early age. In a little more than seven hours, three hundred people would be here, expecting the wedding of the year. She’d be damned if she’d greet them with puffy eyes.
She took a moment to get herself together. Though the wedding had been planned in meticulous detail—Willow really had missed her calling as an army general—there were a few small tasks that still needed to be done. She had to get out of this room, keep moving, hold things together for another twelve hours or so.
Climbing to her feet, she crossed the room, then threw open the balcony doors and let the cool air flow over her as she surveyed the ranch that had been in her family for generations. This land was hers—as far as the eye could see and beyond. Passed from her great-grandfather to her grandfather to her father to her. The first woman to inherit in four generations. Had she worked so hard to be worthy of the name that she’d neglected the only man she’d ever loved? Had she somehow let what she felt for the ranch negate what she felt for Jesse?
She pushed the questions to the back of her mind, knowing that she’d have to deal with them eventually. Just not today. She fought to focus on the details to be attended to instead of the headache behind her eyes. She still had to check on the caterer, talk with the florist, make sure the ballroom was in order for the reception. But first she needed to get a couple of things.
Something borrowed.
She crossed to her jewelry box, pulled out the string of pearls she’d worn to her own wedding, just as her mother had done before her. Willow, so enthralled with the past that she had made plans to wear them almost as soon as she’d told James yes, had picked her gown because it looked best with the necklace.
Desiree could only hope they would bring her daughter more luck then they’d obviously brought her. Slipping the pearls into her pocket, she made a wish for her daughter’s happiness. Wished that Willow would never feel the rage and fear that pounded through her mother at this very moment.
Something blue.
