“Ten minutes. I figured you’d be heading to the barn soon. We need to talk. Reagan isn’t responding to any of my texts or calls, and I need to know she’s okay.” Cy uncrossed his arms and pushed away from his truck. Cy might have been hovering in his late fifties, but he was still in fighting shape. His arms were thick and defined with muscles. His hair was shaved short and his face chiseled. The combination made him look as dangerous as he really was.
“Of course she’s not okay. You reacted exactly the way she feared you would. Which, by the way, was the reason she forced me to keep our relationship secret,” Carter answered as he took off toward the office where he was meeting Suzanne. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with Cy’s nonsense.
“Look, Carter, you’re a good guy. I just don’t think you’re right for Reagan.”
Carter let out a snort of disbelief as he shook his head. “And who would be?” Carter stopped and turned to face Cy. “What other man would stick around to deal with a father like you—a man I grew up respecting? I thought of you as a friend, even family. What man would love Reagan and treat her better than I would? No one. That’s who.”
“Are you going to marry her?” Cy asked.
“I wouldn’t be with her for so long if I wasn’t planning to. But everything is really messy now.”
Cy’s eyes narrowed and Carter started walking again. “Gemma locked me out of the house,” Cy finally confided.
“As if a lock would stop you.”
“Trust me, if a wife locks you out of the house, you do not want to test her by picking the lock. Not that you would know how.”
Carter rolled his eyes. “That’s your problem with me? I don’t know how to pick a lock?”
“I don’t have a problem with you exactly. You’re a nice guy,” he said again as if it were a bad thing.
Carter chuckled. “And that’s the problem. I’m nice. I’m not a badass like Nash or Walker. I won’t win you the title of having the biggest badass for a son-in-law. Is that it?”
“Exactly. My daughter needs a man to keep her safe.”
“Safe from what? What danger do you see lurking around here? Besides, didn’t you teach her take care of herself?” Carter said, refusing to hold back. “I’d give my life to protect her. Just because I can’t kill someone with a spoon doesn’t mean I’m useless.”
“Why don’t you join me at Desert Sun Farm’s gym this afternoon?” Cy suggested after a brief pause.
Carter stopped at the barn door with surprise. “You want me to work out with you?”
Cy shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. I can see what you’re made of and maybe you’ll even learn a thing or two. Let’s call it male bonding.”
It was more likely an excuse for Cy to get him in the boxing ring and punch him a couple more times. But Carter knew this was a chance he couldn’t pass up. “Fine. I’ll see you at five.” Carter watched as Cy looked like he wanted to say more, but instead nodded and turned back toward his car. No one had ever asked Carter to work out with them before at the state-of-the-art gym Mo had built on his farm. Carter had seen it, having grown up next door to Mo’s farm. His father and Mo were the best of friends. His mother and Dani Ali Rahman had worked together in New York City before coming to Kentucky close to thirty-five years ago and were now best friends-turned-neighbors whose children were as close as brothers could be. Yet Carter had never been invited to work out with the famous soldier, Ahmed. Or even with his protégé, Nash, who was now married to Sophie Davies. No Davies had ever invited him either, even though he’d grown up with them all. No one ever thought to invite him because, it seemed, he was the nice guy.
The sun began to warm the sky as oranges, reds, and yellows appeared. It was going to be a beautiful summer day. It was August and things were starting to get crazy at the farm. Keeneland’s yearling sales were the next month and that’s where the best of the best were bought and sold. Last year one of the fillies Carter bred sold for two million dollars and this year he had a full sister to that filly, looking to beat that price. It was a crucial time for the farm, leading up to the October Keeneland races that fed into the Breeder’s Cup in November.
As the sun broke the horizon, Carter opened the barn door and walked past the spotless stalls filled with their prize stallions. In the middle of the barn was a large cupola lined with windows, allowing the sun to illuminate the rich cherry-stained stalls. Carter passed out a sugar cube to each of the stallions and said good morning to the workers busy cleaning their stalls as he made his way to the thick oak doors in the center of the building. He turned to the left and opened the doors that led into the offices.
The Ashton Farm offices ran the length of the stallion barn and overlooked the main drive into the farm. On the opposite side of the barn were the stallions with direct access to their acres of individual pastures. This early in the morning, Carter was the only one in the office as he flipped on the lights and started the coffee. Suzanne would be there soon, and he needed to review the paperwork she’d sent over on her brood mare, Miss Mambo. Carter investigated her bloodlines and sat back staring at his computer as he took in everything he’d researched.
“Knock, knock.”
Carter had been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard Suzanne come in the front door of the lobby. “Mrs. Bristol, it’s good to see you again.” Carter smiled and stood. Suzanne was fifty-nine years old and looked not a day over forty-five. Her blonde hair fell perfectly around her shoulders in soft curls as her pink lips grinned a picture-perfect smile. Her sea-blue eyes sparkled with the barely-there makeup that made her smooth face look flawless.
She had met her husband at an animal rescue fundraiser thirty plus years ago. They’d fallen in love instantly. She had had no idea the man simply known as Nelson was the heir to the Bristol Oil fortune, valued at over three hundred million dollars. When Suzanne, younger than Nelson by twenty years, was introduced to the backstabbing ways of the uber-wealthy, she’d refused to let it sour her. She’d doubled down on her fundraising for animals, raised her two children in the countryside away from the politics, gatherings, and wealth, and doted on her husband. They were very much in love until the day he died.
Carter walked around his desk to place a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you so much for seeing me. I didn’t know who else to turn to, then Nellie reminded me you had taken over the farm for your father.”
Carter showed Suzanne to a leather chair and then leaned against his desk and smiled at her. “How is your daughter?”
“She’s doing well. She and her husband are expecting a baby in December.” Carter noticed Suzanne was clenching her fingers tightly together.
“What’s really going on, Mrs. Bristol? You know I’ll help anyway I can,” Carter told her as gently as he could. He wasn’t expecting Suzanne to burst out in tears.
“Oh, I’m so stupid, Carter. A stupid old woman,” she cried as she got up and began to pace the room.
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
Suzanne pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. “My Nelson always said I was too tender-hearted. He was right. I . . . I . . . ” Suzanne took a deep breath. “I met a man. A younger man.”
“I don’t see the problem,” Carter told her. Suzanne being a cougar was unexpected, but not surprising.
“He’s thirty-three, and I thought he cared about me. His name is Mick Connors. We’ve been dating for almost a year, but now I don’t know if I can trust him or if he’s been duped just like I have been.”
Carter’s brow furrowed. He’d seen that name before. “Is he in horses?”
Suzanne nodded. “That’s how I met him. At the racetrack in Saratoga. He has a really good horse racing right now called Night Keeper.”
“Yeah, but I thought I saw his name on the papers for Miss Mambo too, right?”