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"It's just that you don't trust me." Colin gave Katherine a big toothy smile that was very endearing. "And who's this lovely lady?"
"Katherine Whitfield," Zach said, stepping aside so Katherine should shake Colin's hand.
"Nice to meet you," Colin said. "I'm glad to see Zach has something to distract him from driving me crazy."
"I wouldn't count on it," she said dryly, remembering how fast Zach had turned away from her.
"Rogue's going to do a half mile today," Colin said, suddenly all business. "The track's wet this morning. I want to see how he likes the turf."
"He's not afraid of a little mud."
"Well, hopefully we won't see any real rain between now and the Derby. Bob Jenkins tested Sundance in a one-eyed blinker yesterday. He ran real nice."
"He can't compete with Rogue. Did you talk to Perdito about how to take him in the gate?"
"I did."
Katherine listened as the two men discussed their strategy for the upcoming race. She presumed Perdito was a jockey, because Zach seemed concerned with his ability to get Rogue to perform at the end of the race as well as the beginning. Not much of their conversation made sense to her. Blinkers, leg wraps, gate positions, training distances, all came together like one big foreign language. But she did know one thing. This was Zach's element. He absolutely s.h.i.+ned, and his very presence seemed to energize everyone around him.
"I'll meet you at the rail," Colin said, patting Zach on the back. "We'll see if Rogue can put on a show for your lady friend."
Katherine smiled her good-bye and followed Zach up to the track.
Along the way to the track, Zach pointed out the paddock where the horses would be saddled and the jockeys mounted on Derby day. He explained to her that the Derby was the eighth race of the day, so most of the horses would be kept quiet and calm during the morning hours. He also showed her the new pavilion where visitors could see simulcast horse racing from all over the country.
When they reached the track it was after six and the sun was beginning to break through the clouds, but it was still cold and misty along the track. The grandstand rose up behind the rail like a shadowy monster, dark and empty at this hour of the morning. The rail along the track, however, was lined with early morning enthusiasts, steam rising from their coffee cups, mixing with their breathless conversations as they clocked horses, checked the racing form, and perused the horses on the track with their binoculars.
Zach seemed to know quite a few of the people walking by, but while many said h.e.l.lo, no one came up to talk to them. She had a feeling that Zach was much like Rogue, more comfortable at home in his own surroundings where he didn't have to impress anyone.
They stood at the rail, watching one horse after another. Zach explained the differences between the horses, but Katherine was more caught up in the speed, the beauty, of the horses as they thundered by.
Zach checked his watch every few minutes, his body growing tense, his conversation falling off to nothing. When Rogue walked onto the track, Katherine held her breath. She sensed that Zach wanted to focus all of his attention on his horse, and she couldn't blame him. He had his whole life riding on Rogue.
Rogue warmed up on the backside, then sprinted down the stretch in a blaze of speed. He looked perfect to Katherine, but Zach muttered something about a choppy gait. And when he looked down at the stopwatch in his hand, he frowned with disapproval.
"Too slow," he muttered.
"What?"
"Too d.a.m.n slow. He couldn't beat a nag with that time."
"Maybe he's tired from the trip."
"Don't make excuses for him," Zach said, turning on her with a ferocity that shocked her. "You always want to make excuses. Why can't you just accept that something is bad? Why do you always try to make it good?"
She looked at him in astonishment.
"Oh, h.e.l.l." Zach stormed off before she could even reply.
Deciding to leave him alone for a while, Katherine walked over to a coffee stand, bought herself another cup, and settled down to watch the rest of the field take their practice runs.
Zach swore all the way to the barn. He knew he'd acted like a jerk, taking out his frustration with Rogue on Katherine, but he'd been reacting to more than just Rogue's slow sprint. He'd been angry with himself for not being able to concentrate on his horse with Katherine standing next to him.
Instead of focusing on Rogue, he'd been thinking about her, enjoying the brush of their shoulders, the scent of her hair and skin, wondering what her lips would have tasted like if he'd followed his impulse and kissed her.
d.a.m.n. He could not afford to be distracted. He had to concentrate. He needed to get Katherine out of his life, and fast.
He met up with Colin and Rogue at the barns. After a brief discussion and intense rea.s.surance from Colin that Rogue was exactly where he wanted him to be, Zach watched as the groom walked Rogue around the shed row until he was completely cool. After a bath, an examination of Rogue's precious legs, application of ointment and clean bandages, Zach felt better about his big, ugly baby.
Making his way back to the track, he found Katherine sitting on the second bench in the bleachers, reading the morning newspaper, a cup of coffee in one hand and a white powdered doughnut sitting on a napkin beside her. Now that the sun had come out, she'd put on dark gla.s.ses, hiding her eyes and her expression.
Zach sat down next to her. She didn't even look up.
"I guess there's some heavy-duty groveling in order here," he said.
"There certainly is," she said flatly. She looked over at him and took off her sungla.s.ses, so he could see the fire in her eyes. "You acted like a first-rate jerk."
"I, uh..." Then he caught the smile on her lips. "See, I'm done making excuses for you or anyone else. When you act like an a.s.s, I'm going to tell you," she said. "Boy, that felt good."
"I think I've created a monster."
"Be careful what you wish for."
"I was rattled. I took it out on you."
"Yelling at me isn't going to make Rogue run any faster. I'm not sure yelling at him will do any good either."
"You're right." He paused. "How come you're not mad?"
Her expression softened. "Because anyone can see you're worried about your horse. But it's out of your hands, Zach. You've done everything you can do to get Rogue to this point. It seems to me, and I admit I don't know anything about horses and horse racing, but I think it's up to Rogue from here on out. You're just going to have to watch and wait."
"It's h.e.l.l."
"Patience is not your strong point, is it?"
"I've never believed that good things come to those who wait. If you wait, all the good stuff is usually gone."
"Not always." She patted his hand. "And just think, all this will come in handy when you have kids."
He felt like she'd punched him in the stomach. "Kids? I'm not going to have kids."
She looked at him in surprise. "Why not? You'd make a great dad."
"I'd make a terrible dad."
"Kids aren't that different from horses."
"Oh, yeah? They can talk, can't they?"
"Yes, but they also need a firm hand, and a calm voice, and a lot of love, and I saw you give all that to Rogue just a few hours ago."
"I don't think so." In fact, he'd never even seriously considered having kids. When he and Crystal had briefly talked about it, he'd been relieved to hear she didn't want children. Crystal had never struck him like the motherly type.
Not like Katherine. It didn't take much to imagine her holding some baby in her arms, smiling down with her wide-eyed wonder, hearing her soft voice sing a lullaby, watching her roll around in the gra.s.s with a toddler in her arms.
He shook his head, trying to get rid of the collage of images, because somewhere in the corner of the photos was him, watching her, loving her. No, it was never going to happen. He had Rogue to baby. He didn't need a kid.
"Are you going to eat the rest of that doughnut?" he asked, changing the subject.
"No, go ahead." She held up the newspaper in her hand. "I've been reading about all the Derby events. Steamboat races, hot-air balloons, parades, music festivals, crazy hats, mint juleps, celebrities. The next two weeks are going to be wild, aren't they?"
"Kentucky's version of Mardi Gras," Zach replied, downing the rest of her doughnut in one bite.
"It must be incredible. I'm dying to taste a mint julep."
"I'm sure you'll be able to find one or a dozen if you look just about anywhere."
"It says here that Churchill Downs will serve eighty thousand mint juleps in the week before the Derby. That's a lot of bourbon."
"This is bourbon country as much as it's horse country. In fact, we have quite a few vices out here. We like our liquor, our horses, country ham and gravy and hot b.u.t.tery biscuits. And G.o.d help us, we love our tobacco, too."
"Not a cuc.u.mber sandwich in sight, I guess."
"Not a one."
"You still don't think I fit in around here, do you?"
"Do you?"
"Maybe not."
Her somewhat sad agreement made him more nervous than if she'd argued with him. Because for a split second he'd wanted her to tell him she could fit in, and he'd wanted to believe it.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked, deciding it was past time to get on with the rest of their day.
"Yes. Do you know how to find that woman you mentioned?"
"I think so. She runs a motel not far from here. I would guess that my father went through Veronica's on his way to Paradise, and if anyone can tell us what he's up to, it's her."
Fifteen minutes later, Zach escorted Katherine into the most wildly decorated motel she'd ever seen. It wasn't your standard Motel Six. No, the lobby of this ten-room inn was decorated with Victorian erotica, nude portraits, velvet drapes, scented candles, and s.e.xually graphic novels. At the front desk there was a candy tray that also stocked twelve different kinds of condoms and a few other devices that were a complete and utter mystery to her.
Katherine didn't know where to look. Nothing seemed safe. Everything was so s.e.xually oriented. She felt like she'd walked into the middle of an X-rated movie.
She knew Zach was laughing at her. He kept biting down on his lip as if he were holding back a big grin. Okay, so she was a little on the conservative, naive side. She couldn't help it. Nor could she help being somewhat interested in the photographs on the wall. In fact, one position looked downright dangerous.
She found herself backing away, trying to be un.o.btrusive, only to trip on the carpet. Stumbling, she reached for the first available anchor and planted her hand right smack on the p.e.n.i.s of a male statue.
"Oh, my," she gasped, straightening immediately.
Zach burst out laughing and couldn't seem to stop. "You..." He laughed some more. "A little rough on him, weren't you?"
"I didn't mean to grab him there," she said, wrapping her arms around her waist so she wouldn't inadvertently touch anything else.
"Didn't I mention that Veronica used to run a brothel?"
"No, you didn't."
Zach scratched his jaw. "Wonder how I forgot that."
"And you used to live here?" she asked in a hushed voice, not sure if anyone was watching them or listening to them. The lobby appeared to be deserted.
"I spent a lot of time here. I got quite an education."
Katherine didn't dare to ask him in what subject. Just then a woman walked out of the back room. She was tall and curvaceous, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s accented by the low-cut black knit top that barely covered her chest. Her face was almost clownlike, with thick heavy makeup, bright red lipstick, rosy blush, purple eye-shadow, and eyebrows penciled in a thick black line. Black hair went down her back to her waist in long, straight, heavy strands. Despite her rather bizarre appearance, there was no mistaking the delight that spread across Veronica's face when she saw Zach.
She came around the counter and threw her large arms around him, pressing him against her ample bosom, so tightly Katherine wasn't sure Zach could draw a breath.
Zach didn't seem in a hurry to leave, though, Katherine noted with irritation. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the crus.h.i.+ng hug.
"Zachary. I've missed you," Veronica said, finally releasing him from her hold. "You're such a handsome boy now." She sighed. "If I were thirty years younger..."
"You'd be mine," Zach said gallantly.
Katherine tapped her foot impatiently against the floor. "Zach, we don't have all day." He looked surprised that she'd spoken. And for the first time Veronica turned to look at her.
"Well, now, who's this? Your girlfriend?" Veronica asked.
"This is Katherine Whitfield."
Veronica pursed her lips. "Now, where have I heard that name before?"
"Probably from my father," Zach said. "He seems to think he's Katherine's long-lost daddy."
The confusion on Veronica's face cleared almost immediately. "Oh, that's right, the lonely little rich girl."
Katherine didn't like the description or the pitying tone in Veronica's voice. "Do you happen to know if Mr. Tyler ever had a vasectomy?"
Veronica sent her a sultry grin. "Why don't you just ask him, honey?" she said, nodding to Zach.
"I don't mean that Mr. Tyler," Katherine said hurriedly, trying to ignore Zach's amused expression. "I'm not interested in his..." Lord, she was getting herself in deeper by the minute.
"How could you not be interested?" Veronica asked. "Why, this is one choice hunk of a man."
Katherine swallowed and s.h.i.+fted her feet. "I'm talking about Jackson Tyler, his father. Zach thought you might know if Jackson ever had a vasectomy."