“Bobby and Beth’s open jumper nut case?” Lotte squinted and wrinkled her nose and made an umm sound. The mare’s exploits were things of legend on the Tri-State circuit. She was considered unmanageable by most of the semi-professionals in the area.

  “They think you might be the one who can handle her. And they will pay, not a lot, but perhaps enough that you want to consider this?”

  Flashing a huge grin, Susan leaped off the couch and danced around the coffee table, grabbing Lotte and pulling her into an impromptu jig.

  Lotte extricated herself and headed out the door. She called back, “See me in the morning. We shall do the lesson plan and you will meet your new students. And then we shall go shopping.”

  “Shopping? Shopping for what, Lotte? Lotte!”

  A muffled shout floated back as Lotte sped up the graveled driveway, “…your bridesmaid dress, dear.”

  Oh crap, she’d forgotten about that. Beth and David. A wedding. The joy of having at least part of her future look brighter evaporated as memories of Alan and his pretty promises, and his betrayal, came crashing down. She sank onto the couch and buried her face in her hands.

  ****

  Susan and her room-mate, Maggy, staggered through the door shedding boxes and shopping bags as they wearily made their way to the kitchen.

  “Oh mama, I never want to see another bridal shop for the rest of my life.” Maggy sank onto the stool and laid her head on the counter. “Purple, why’d it have to be purple? I look like crap in purple!”

  “She looks really pretty though, doesn’t she?”

  “Beth? Yeah. Who’d have thought she’d be the one. Here it was you and me, set to get hitched. Then bam, the shit hits the fan and we’re the bridesmaids, never the bride.” Maggy didn’t try to hide the note of bitterness in her voice. Recently off her very public breakup with the on again-off again boyfriend of three years, Maggy turned a jaundiced eye toward relationships. To her credit, she’d seen right through Alan, much to Lotte’s dismay, and had tried warning Susan off from the get-go.

  “Okay, Maggy, tell me what you really think.” Susan frowned at her best friend but couldn’t stay angry at her for long. They’d gone to Wilson College together in Equestrian Studies, both with majors in Equestrian Management. Beth had gone through the journalism program. All three had been on the equestrian team—Beth had been on the dressage team while she and Maggy had gone the eventing route.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Maggy jumped up and came around the counter to give her friend a hug. “I keep forgetting how hard that breakup hit you.” Susan cringed for about the tenth time that day. If it wasn’t the god-awful dresses and the incessant wedding-this, wedding-that, mixed in with well-meaning sorry Suz, your time will come Suz, it wasn’t meant to be dearest, she feared her shoulders would be permanently glued to her earlobes.

  Susan asked, “How come you’re over Arnie so quickly? I mean, you and he had been going out for years. We all figured he was the one who couldn’t commit. Then he pops the question and you freak.” Not only had he popped the question but he’d done it in front of all the students at a fall gathering. It was probably the first and only time she’d ever seen Maggy tongue-tied. But that hadn’t lasted for long. She’d hauled the hapless man down to the bungalow after the party. The group in the upper barn doing the evening feeding had gotten an earful.

  Susan had to know. “Did you love him?”

  “Yeah, I did. But not in a forever-after way. It was like dating my younger brother.” She held up her hand before Susan could point out that Arnie was only a year younger than them. “I know, I know what you’re going to say. But here’s the thing … it was like I was his plus-one when he needed company. Nothing more.” Maggy moved into the living room and shoved the boxes off the couch. She sank heavily onto the lumpy cushion and sighed. “And another thing…”

  “Spit it out, girlfriend.”

  Maggy shrugged and whispered, “We almost never had sex.”

  Susan stared open-mouthed. Of all of them, Maggy had been the most adventurous—assertive, lusty and attracting guys wherever she went. It wasn’t that she was classically beautiful, or even pretty, but she had handsome features, wide-set sable brown eyes and an elfin, almost pixie quality about her. Honest to a fault, you always knew where you stood with Maggy.

  “B-but why not?”

  “He just wasn’t that interested. He had his career and I was just the side show. I got tired of it. That’s all.” Maggy sighed and bent to gather the parcels off the floor. “I want someone who will be my partner, who wants to take life by the horns. I don’t like being an afterthought.”

  “Maggy, I-I’m sorry. Come on. Let’s get this stuff upstairs. I have an idea on how to turn this pity-party on its ear.”

  “I’m all ears. Oops! Is there an echo in here?”

  “Lotte gave me the DVD of the World Equestrian Games from last year. I say we order a pizza from Angelo’s and hit those two bottles of wine we’ve been hording for a rainy day.”

  Staggering with her load going up the stairs, Maggy laughed and said, “It’s snowing. Does that count?”

  “Crap. Here, take this stuff. I’ll go make the call.”

  Maggy shouted down, “Extra cheese. And sausage.”

  Sausage, why’d it have to be sausage?

  Chapter Four: Wyoming Bound

  Manny let himself into the apartment quietly, assuming Inga would be asleep. He was wrong.

  “When were you intending to let me know about this?”

  Wearing outrage like the finest pearl necklace, the woman waved a newspaper in front of his face. He took the paper, knowing full well what was in there. Turning to the sports page he grimaced as he read the lurid headline:

  CHAMPION JOCKEY RETIRES AMIDST CONTROVERSY

  Manuel Velasquez officially retired from racing today after days of rumors floating about that he had been fired from Windemere Farms as their head jockey. Velasquez has been keeping a low profile after the hearing following the near fatal crash that sent fellow jockey, Antonio Duarte, to the hospital with crushed vertebrae and…

  Manny threw the newspaper onto the coffee table. He hadn’t talked to Inga, or to any of his close associates, about his decision. A phone call with his sister, Maria, and her husband Saul, had set a process in motion that he knew was right for him.

  “And where the hell were you?” Inga paced the room, her Dana Pisarra chemise clinging to her rail thin form like a second skin. Moving like the runway model she’d once been, before setting her sights on Hollywood and the entrée Manny offered through his contacts with the rich and shameless in the racing world, she prowled the spacious living room, leaving a trail of distaste in her wake.

  “I was with Annie.” That wouldn’t go over well, either.

  “Annie!” she screeched. “You spend more time with her than you do with me.” Yeah, and this is why, she doesn’t make my ears bleed.

  Like a broken record, Inga ran through the list of his failings, ticking each one off with perfectly manicured nails. He rose from the couch, peeling his shirt and jeans, leaving them lay wherever they fell, too tired and too depressed to much care about anything, especially her rants. He needed a shower and a little private time. It looked like he’d get neither.

  “Why can’t I be enough, Manny?”

  That question surprised him, as did her serious tone of voice. He looked up at the tall blonde and wondered the same thing. She was trophy material, better than he deserved probably. But she’d never wanted the same things. A family, a home in the country, horses to train, kids, lots of kids.

  “I’m not her, you know.” That hurt, it always did, a dull ache in his chest. “It happens. It was years ago. Why can’t you let it go?”

  “Go to bed, Inga. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You never do, Manny, that’s the problem. So you lost your wife and kid. It’s tragic. I get that. But I’m here. Look at me.”

  He didn’t want to, not now, not after being reminded that the love of his life lay in a cold grave, his son next to her, stillborn. They’d tried to save her. They’d tried. Just not hard enough. And he hadn’t even been home. He’d been in Dubai riding Sheikh Mohammed’s horse, pulling down a million dollar purse when all he cared about back home vanished forever.

  He took a deep breath. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try just a little, meet her half way.

  “I’m sorry, Inga. Come to bed.”

  Slipping his underwear off, he strode quickly to the king-sized bed and slipped under the satin sheet. With the A/C going full blast and the icy sheets assaulting his super-heated skin, any interest he had in performing faded fast.

  Inga kept the skimpy bit of fabric on, knowing he usually liked the slide of it against her skin. It won’t hurt you to try echoed in his skull.

  “I can help you with that, if you like.” She ran a sharp nail up the inside of his thigh and rolled his balls with narrow fingers shaped more like talons than hands. Don’t feel good, not tonight, don’t…

  “You like this, don’t you. I can make you feel really good, so good, baby…” Jesus, she was a talker, never shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up…

  Laving her hot tongue over the tip, she fondled and coaxed until he couldn’t help himself and let a hiss of breath escape. Purring, “You like that, I can taste you, you taste so good,” she took him in her mouth and he gloried in the near silence, the sucking sounds soft and rhythmic. But he wanted, needed more. He strained to hear the cadence of hoofbeats, strong, pulse-pounding. Arching his hips, he thrust with powerful strokes, holding her tangled mane in his rough hands as he pulled and pushed, deeper, faster … his brain screaming fuck fuck fuck fuck until he released on a strangled moan.

  ****

  Manny parked his two-horse trailer near the last barn in the sprawling complex and did a quick check to make sure he had all the supplies he’d need for a thousand mile journey through the deserts of Nevada and Utah.

  “Hey, Annie, how’s my girl?” His Icelandic mare nickered softly in greeting. He gave her a quick pat and slipped the halter over her blocky head. “Come on sweetheart. We’re going for a long ride.” He led her to the trailer where she gave a sniff and walked right on.

  Heading north from Santa Ana, he picked his way through light traffic up the coast, eventually finding I-5 and later merging onto I-15 at Barstow at the border. He swung north and east toward Las Vegas, his ultimate destination the Wind River Range near Lander, Wyoming. He’d finally made the decision to join his sister and her husband in running their dude ranch. Helping Maria and Saul ready their Arabs and Quarter Horses for the reining horse market would take his mind off the crap that had him in a blue funk ever since the crash. Maria’s side business, catering to tourists wanting a real Western ranch experience, didn’t really interest him but he knew his sister adored playing hostess.

  Retiring never meant not riding again. No matter how down he got, the horses filled in for the loneliness stalking his heart. This gave him something to look forward to—riding herd on the two-year-old colts and fillies, backing them, and getting them saleable at auction. The more promising youngsters he’d train for cutting and reining. Maybe even find one worth… He snapped that thought shut. Don’t go there, not now.

  The diesel pulled easily through the night as Manny mulled over the last few hectic days. Inga had left the next morning after the papers broke the news, as he knew she would. He’d been nothing but a convenience for her. After presenting her with the deed to the Aspen condo, she’d shed a few tears, and he’d convinced himself they were real. Her smile of delight as she’d paused to glance in the hall mirror on her way out the door had been even more genuine.

  His racing family understood his decision and didn’t try to talk him out of it. Of all of them, the one he’d miss the most was Antonio, but he’d done what he could to see to his friend’s family and their new future.

  Annie rode carefully in the back, her legs splayed apart against the swaying. He stopped every four hours to let her rest and eat, sometimes taking her off the trailer to graze the sparse grass. But mostly he pushed through to the run past the Tetons, then up and over the last pass to drop down Route 287. The ranch lay opposite the Wind River Range, just to the east, straddling a string of twelve-thousand-foot behemoths hanging north of the Reservation. Maria had cattle running up in the mountains during the summer, sharing with the ranchers on the Rez. Manny had spent a lot of down time with his sister and Saul. He’d been pleased as punch when they’d made the offer. It had come at just the right time.

  Manny turned left onto a sandy road, barely one vehicle wide, and drove along a ridge past rolling hills and a decent-sized stream, still flowing even after the summer drought. Fifteen miles later he pulled onto the lane to the ranch. The house sat low against a copse of trees, a one-and-a-half- story log cabin with a surround porch and dozens of chairs and rockers set out for the guests.

  This late in the season would mean few people about and that sat well with him. He needed alone time after the hullabaloo of the track, the constant schmoozing with trainers and owners, and the unrelenting hunger as he tried to keep his weight down to a manageable level. He was tall for a jockey at five-foot-four and making weight had always been an issue. He looked forward to an occasional beer and a real steak.

  His sister was waiting at the door, young Jose on her left hip, dark-eyed Rosa hugging her waist. It was the kids that did it for him. All his life, he’d wanted nothing more than a family. Now he had one ready-made. He hoped it would be enough to keep the loneliness at bay.

  “Manny!”

  Maria shouted into the house, “Saul. Manny’s here. Come out and help him unload Annie.”

  Maria rushed up to give Manny a big hug. “You look tired. How was the trip?”

  “And you look beautiful.” Maria beamed. “It was long and boring.”

  “Well, you’re home now. Take the kids and go inside. We’ll take care of Annie.” She yelled back to the house, “Saul?”

  “Coming, coming.” Saul muttered, extending a hand to his brother-in-law. “Welcome home, boy. Go on now, do like your sister says. It’s easier that way.” He grinned and shoved Manny toward the porch.

  Maria chattered away, “We have a stall, with a run, set up for her. Saul will keep her isolated for a couple days to make sure she’s okay from the trip.”

  Grabbing his arm, Rosa pulled him toward the house. She giggled and led him into the main living area, then skipped away while he took a breather and looked around.

  He loved the lodge. It had a cathedral ceiling with a great room along the front that included an open kitchen and eating area, a wood stove, and spiral stairs leading to a small loft with comfortable chairs set out for reading. The cabin then split into a vee, with wings to each side, one leading to the guest rooms, the other to the family’s private compound. Small satellite cabins lined the stream to the east, behind the main lodge. Those were primarily for families, with tiny kitchens and sitting rooms, though most folks ate their meals in the main lodge, enjoying Maria’s no-nonsense hospitality. Guests did dishes and cleaned up after themselves. If they wanted the ranch experience, then they did ranch chores, including mucking stalls and cleaning tack. Her repeat business was awesome.

  His sister came up behind him and wrapped her arms about his waist.

  “Maria, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

  She gave him her oh poo look and hustled to the kitchen to finish setting plates and silverware on the counter. In minutes she had a hot meal of real food on the table, and Manny sat looking at the largesse with glazed eyes. He was on his second helping when Saul wandered into the kitchen.

  “Annie’s all set, boy. She’s got hay and water and is already making snake eyes at the mule next to her. I think she’ll settle in just fine. Icelandic. Huh. Who’d have thought that’s what you’d bring with.”

  “She’s small and comfortable, Saul. And she climbs like all get out. Just you wait ’til you see what she can do. You’ll be trading in those dingbat Ay-rabs for the real deal.”

  Saul grinned at him. Older than Maria by a good fifteen years, and Manny by ten, he’d taken to calling him son years ago. Manny took it in the spirit it was meant. Saul was good people, a terrific father and loving husband. His sister couldn’t have done better if she’d tried.

  “Hon, I’ll put the kids to bed so’s you two can blather for a bit. See ya’ later, boy.”

  Manny waved at Saul’s retreating form and turned to his now empty plate.

  Maria laughed. “More?”

  Manny sighed, “Yeah, please.” God, life was good.

  Chapter Five: No-no Mistletoe

  Susan took a deep breath and glided down the aisle, a vision in grape velvet, grasping a bouquet of white flowers, the smell of pine redolent in the small chapel. Beth looked resplendent in off-white satin and gauze with a beaded train trailing half the length of the chapel. David was beyond handsome in his severe black tux. It was downright medieval in its splendor. Lotte did Matron-of-Honor duties while her husband, Jacob, escorted Beth to the altar. They’d made the vows, then as the happy couple made their final procession down the aisle, Maggy played her guitar and sang folk songs.

  The indoor arena had been turned into a magical drawing room with pine boughs and a real wood floor spread over the sand base. A phalanx of helpers had swept, raked and smoothed until the sectional floor sat dead level. She and Maggy had spent two entire days on the table decorations, while Jacob and their stable hand, Emilio, had hung the boughs and red-velvet ribbons. Candles were forbidden given the proximity of the stalls, so they’d come up with battery powered candles. Jacob had shielded the unforgiving floods with colored transparent film. A DJ taking dressage lessons from David provided the entertainment, as did the open bar, with wine, beer and liquor flowing freely.