Dear Reader,

I grew up just south of Saratoga Springs, New York, site of one of the prettiest racetracks in the country. As a teen, I often worked as a model during “Breakfast at the Track,” tooling around from table to table to tell breakfast patrons in the grandstand’s clubhouse about designer outfits. During that time, I had the pleasure to meet many people from around the country who came to summer in Saratoga for the August racing season. I met jockeys and trainers, horse owners, socialites and die-hard racing fans, all of whom fascinated this farmer’s daughter who grew up on the banks of the Hudson.

So I couldn’t wait to re-create that world for readers in Something to Talk About. Set on a Kentucky horse farm and rooted in the small racing community that transports itself to Saratoga every year, this book has been a pure pleasure to write, evoking lots of fun memories for me. I hope you enjoy the thrill, the beauty and the power of the Thoroughbreds, and, most of all, I hope you enjoy the passion of the people behind them.

Happy reading!

Joanne Rock

Something to Talk About

Joanne Rock

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JOANNE ROCK

is a three-time RITA® Award nominee who didn’t think to indulge her love of writing when she went to college, instead opting for a communications degree and a business minor involving far too much accounting. Only after venturing into the real world did she realize it would have been wiser to study what she liked best so she could enjoy her life’s work. Heading back to university for a graduate degree in English literature, Joanne penned her first novel while she was also writing her thesis. It took the rejection of six completed novels before she sold her first book, but she never regretted the career choice based on a labor of love. Today Joanne lives in the Adirondack region of upstate New York with her husband and three sons, and she is thrilled to pen contemporary and historical romances for Harlequin Books.

Visit her Web sites, www.joannerock.com or www.myspace.com/joanne_rock to enter monthly contests and learn more about her work.

To my mom and dad

Thank you for allowing me to have so many

cool life experiences at a young age, without which I

wouldn’t have half as much material for my stories!

In particular, for the sake of this story, thank you

for the rides to Saratoga, long before I had my license,

so I could be a part of the glittering horse-racing world

if only for a few hours at a time.

Many thanks to my friend from the Bluegrass State,

Jan Scarbrough, who provided me extra insights on

Thoroughbred racing and horses in general. Any errors

in regard to my horse-trainer hero are strictly my own.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter One

“But you’d really like this guy. Honest.”

Amanda Emory had grown accustomed to fending off suggestions on her love life from girlfriends and her well-meaning mother. But listening to dating advice from her nine-year-old son seriously pushed the limit.

“Kiefer, I’m sure he’s a very nice man.” Distracted by the sight of the movers carrying her sons’ bunk beds up the stairs of the small condo unit they’d purchased, Amanda called instructions for placing the furniture she’d picked out with her husband mere days before he died. And damn it, didn’t those memories still catch her when she least expected them?

“He’s not just nice, Mom.” Kiefer stole a granola bar out of his younger brother’s hand as he settled himself at the island separating the light-filled kitchen and a living room overrun with boxes. “He trains the horses and he can ride like the guys in cowboy movies. He knows everything about horses. Seriously, Mom. Everything.”

Amanda retrieved a new granola bar for Max, her six-year-old, who had already found friends in the condo next door and was happily showing the other kids his latest creation with a building set among the piles of boxes. Amanda gave Max two extra treats for his friends and then tried to focus on Kiefer’s latest matchmaking effort.

Although Dan had been dead two years, Kiefer’s quest to see his mother remarried hadn’t started until about three months ago, after he’d seen some movie about kid spies who—in the subplot—tricked their widowed parents into meeting and falling in love. In short order, Amanda had been steered toward Kiefer’s soccer coach, the librarian at his school, a neighbor in their building back in Los Angeles, and now this…a horse trainer?

“He works with horses?” She settled into the seat next to him at the counter and swallowed back a pinch of motherly guilt that they hadn’t spent much time together in the mayhem of moving halfway across the country to Woodford County, Kentucky. She’d had so much more on her mind than she could ever burden her boys with, but not for the world would she want them to feel they were anything but her top priority.

For now, she waved the deliverymen upstairs to settle the dresser wherever they wanted.

“He’s the best. I watched him working with one of the colts while you were setting up your new office Friday.” Kiefer scrubbed a finger over a gold fleck in the granite countertop, his dark-brown hair falling sideways over one eye like his father’s. This summer, her oldest son seemed to be all arms and legs, his body growing faster than his meals could fill it out. “I’m going back tomorrow after school.”

“Are there other kids who watch the horses then?” She hoped Kiefer would make friends in their new hometown. Having lived in suburban L.A. all her life, she was a little intimidated about uprooting her family to move to a community that was both rural and—to a large extent—wealthy. She’d chosen a neighborhood in Twisted River, removed from the immediate domain of Quest Stables, which was both her new employer and a megamillion-dollar business.

Kiefer shrugged.

“I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter.” He peered up at her with the earnest eyes of a child who hadn’t quite mastered the preteen ability to mask his feelings. “I don’t like the other kids here anyway and I’m helping you…you know. Meet people.”

Amanda’s heart squeezed tight that her firstborn had been put in a position where he felt that he needed to take care of her. He sounded years older than he was, even if the scrapes on his elbows and the jelly stain on his shirt gave him away as the kid he deserved to be.

“I appreciate you, baby.” She hugged him tight, grateful that he still let her. “And I think it’s great that you want to look out for me, but I promise you when the time is right, I’ll think about socializing.”

That much was true. And she didn’t have the heart to share her fear that the opportunity might not come for a very long while. She didn’t know why no one had turned her head in the two years since her police sergeant husband had been gunned down in a drug bust, but the grief counselor from the LAPD had assured her that it was okay to mourn on her own timetable and that healing would come when her heart dictated.

Kiefer looked ready to argue, his brow knitted in concentration as if he were reaching for the right words, when Max and his new pals came barreling over. They each waved some kind of airplane they’d made with Max’s new construction set, although the little girl’s plane looked more like a flying bunny rabbit.

While Amanda doled out praise for all the creations, Kiefer somehow disappeared. The movers shouted for a clear path into the dining room as they wheeled in a small hutch on a dolly.

Kiefer’s matchmaking would have to wait, although his penchant to fix her up wasn’t nearly as troublesome to her as his lack of effort to meet kids his own age. But since she wasn’t exactly the Mingle Queen herself, how could she blame him?

The phone on the kitchen wall rang as the kids flew their toys into the laundry room. Amanda picked it up on the first ring, grateful her number was working. They’d been camping out in the condo for almost a week while waiting for the moving truck, but the phone company had somehow overlooked them until today.

“Hello?”

Silence answered her.

“Hello?” She swallowed down an old panic, knowing sometimes it took a moment for telemarketers to come on the line. She’d been scared by that phenomenon before.

But still no one answered. The silence mounted. Expanded. And then click. The line disconnected as the other party hung up.

In an instant, two years’ worth of worry came flooding back. Her knees buckled. She’d moved halfway across the country to escape the possibility of revenge from a drug gang. Dan had killed one of the group’s members before taking a fatal bullet himself, and the dead man’s brother—Benny Orway—had promised revenge at his trial two years ago.

Amanda had uprooted her kids before the guy was released from prison a week ago, unwilling to take any chances with the kids’ safety. But she’d started receiving late-night hang-up calls the month before she’d relocated. The calls spooked her, making her all the more grateful for the job offer in Kentucky.

As she hung up the phone, her hands shook just a little, even as she told herself hang-ups happened all the time.

“Mrs. Emory?” one of the movers shouted from the front hall, his arms full of garment bags that must have spilled out from one of the boxes.

“Coming.” Willing her heart to quit racing, she put one foot in front of the other to address a crisis so much easier than the one she’d run two thousand miles to escape.

But as the silence of the phone call echoed in her ears, Amanda hoped she’d run far enough.

Normally, Robbie Preston didn’t mind Mondays.

He liked hard work and he was devoted to making his family’s business, Quest Stables, the best Thoroughbred facility in the country. And although his family thwarted his efforts half the time, this Monday their maneuvering ticked him off more than usual.

“Marcus is making the rounds, Robbie.” His sister, Melanie, breezed into the stable office after her morning workout with Leopold’s Legacy. The horse had been destined to be a Triple Crown Winner for Quest before a DNA test revealed the sire of record, Apollo’s Ice, was not the biological sire, and Legacy had been banned from racing in North America.

At five feet tall, Melanie had turned her love of riding into a full-fledged profession as a jockey, a gig that ensured she had no competition from within the Preston clan.

Unlike him.

But since his sister was the only member of his immediate family to have even a small amount of respect for his skills as a trainer, Robbie tried to keep his cool when she brought up his least favorite topic.

“I hope no one expects me to lead the welcoming committee. I’ve managed to avoid him since our confirmation at Del Mar.” He poured himself a cup of coffee from a pot someone had started long before dawn. The stables ran on an early schedule, and most of the animals were in the paddocks or on the exercise track by sunrise.

The new trainer had been in residence at Quest for the last few weeks, but Robbie had purposely found other things to do than ease the transition for the guy. They’d had a hard enough time working together at the Del Mar races. But he knew the time had come to officially accept Marcus, no matter how awkward the meeting might be.

“Please tell me you’re not going to create an international incident.” Melanie dropped into a chair across from the office’s main reception area, which lately saw very little traffic outside of the stable staff. On days when prospective clients wandered through the stable area to check out Quest’s boarding and training facilities, the coffee would have been a whole lot fresher than the brew Robbie choked down this morning. Although, in all fairness, it might have been his own bitterness he tasted more than any java.

“Who’s creating an incident?” He stalked around the office to work off the edges of an anger he’d tried hard to stuff down this last month. “I’m here, aren’t I? Putting in my hours for the greater good despite a slap in the face that couldn’t have been more direct. I know it’s not Marcus’s fault he won the head trainer slot and I know he’s damn good at the job.”

He scuffed his toe across the hardwood floor covered by a few thick wool throw rugs. And although the office was attached to the stables, the room lacked any scent of horses since it was outfitted to impress visitors. A few framed photos of Quest’s most famous equine residents lined the walls.

“I know that too, but you would have done as well or even better considering you’re as obsessive about your work as you are about—oh—everything else you’ve ever tackled.” Melanie slid her feet out of her riding boots and tucked them under her. “Remember when you decided to take up cliff-diving?”

“Whoa. Anybody ever tell you that you’ve got a knack for backhanded compliments?” Still, Robbie took some solace in his sister’s opinion, since she knew horses as well as anyone, and her endorsement meant a lot, even if it was sandwiched between insults. “And for your information, three emergency-room visits in one summer builds character.”

“I seem to remember Dad saying it built a thicker head.” She flashed him an evil grin and socked him gently in the gut as he paced past her chair.

He paused long enough to pull her hair gently in a reflex gesture—a remnant of their days as kids that had long ago turned into a sign of affection.

“You know I’m twenty-eight and that’s still what the old man sees?” He looked out the window onto the front paddock area, which was more for show than anything, the greens immaculate even if summer was quickly sliding into fall. “Even when I train a Derby winner like Leopold’s Legacy, Dad fixates on the fact that I broke my nose twice in a season.”

“I’m not touching that one.”

Turning back to Melanie, he watched her tip her head back in her chair and study him with assessing eyes, her delicate size belying a nature every bit as fierce as his.

“Neither am I.” He looked back out the window in time to see Marcus Vasquez—-a trainer who had come to Quest from Australia’s Lochlain Stables, run by Robbie’s cousin—walking toward the offices with a woman Robbie had never seen before.

“What do you mean?” Melanie rose to join him at the window.

Robbie was surprised it took a bit of effort to tear his gaze away from the pretty woman talking to the new head trainer. Her short hair blew around her face, the dark locks sunkissed with lighter streaks. She wasn’t necessarily beautiful, but something about her face fascinated him. Her easy laughter reminded him of all the ways his life had grown too uptight. Too frustrating.

“I mean I’m not sticking around for another year of Preston dramas when this family is hanging on to financial security by its teeth.”

He’d been angry about a lot of things in the past few months and it had all come to a head when his father had imported Marcus from halfway around the world even though Robbie had more than enough qualifications for the job. Considering Quest’s reputation had been called into question when the Jockey Association withdrew Leopold Legacy’s status as a Thoroughbred, given his uncertain paternity, the stables could have benefited from the cost-saving measures of hiring a family member.

“Please don’t make any hasty decisions—”

Impatience fired through him and he found himself concentrating on the pretty brunette’s smile to ease the rush of anger.

“This isn’t hasty. I’ve had plenty of time to think it over and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’d rather not sit at the dinner table with people who don’t respect what I do. I’ll continue my training duties, but I’m going to get a place in town.”

“You know what that will do to Granddad?” Melanie lowered her voice as Marcus approached the door to the small office and the mystery woman turned in another direction.

Who was she? The question was far more pleasant than the one about what his disappearance from the house would do to their eighty-six-year-old grandfather, Hugh Preston. The patriarch of the clan wasn’t always in residence since he liked to indulge his passion for racing by touring the nation’s tracks and betting on new horses with a few of his cronies. But when he settled back into life at Quest Stables, he always made it a point to seek out Robbie and share stories from his days as a young immigrant fresh off the boat from County Clare, Ireland.

His tales of hard work had inspired Robbie his whole life. And instead of looking at Robbie’s hot-headed nature as a defect, Granddad liked to say Robbie simply had inherited the passionate nature of the Irish. The old man’s words had often been a balm during his teenage years when Robbie and his father had been at odds more times than he could count.

“You don’t fight fair,” he complained, wondering how Melanie could have zeroed in so easily on Robbie’s only reservation about moving off the Quest compound.

“With all the stress this family is under lately—especially Granddad at his age—I can’t afford to fight fair.”

Robbie would have liked to argue that Granddad wasn’t growing frail of heart just because the rest of him was aging, but the door to the office opened.

Steeling himself to be civil, Robbie came face to face with the man who’d stolen his future out from under him.

Marcus Vasquez had been raised in Spain and his dark hair and eyes reflected the heritage. He had a reputation as a hardworking, practical man. Even Robbie’s grandfather respected him, so at least Marcus had that much in his favor.

“Marcus.” Robbie thrust out his hand and willed himself not to give in to a primitive urge to crush the guy’s fingers. “Good to have you at Quest.”

“Thank you.” Marcus shook his hand easily, making direct eye contact before he nodded to Melanie. “I’ve enjoyed finding my way around here.”

Instead of being back in Australia running Lochlain Stables where he damn well belonged. When Quest’s previous head trainer, Daniel Whittleson, had left the job to work at Lochlain, he had recommended Marcus as his replacement. Robbie knew that—at thirty-two years old—Marcus wouldn’t be vacating the Quest head trainer position anytime soon.

“I hope you’ll let me know if I can help you with anything. Daniel left during a difficult time, considering the uproar around Leopold’s Legacy.” Until the mystery of Leopold’s Legacy’s parentage was solved, the horse had had to be withdrawn from racing and Quest’s reputation teetered on the verge of ruin.

Hell, their financial stability teetered on the verge of ruin right along with it since their reputation had attracted the owners who paid big fees to have their horses stabled and trained here.

“Daniel and I have spoken extensively.” Marcus’s eyes veered briefly to Melanie’s sock-clad feet. “I think I have things well in hand by now, but I appreciate the offer.”

Beside him, Robbie sensed his sister straighten. Tense.

Hell, she couldn’t be any tenser than him. Was Marcus implying he didn’t need help running the training operation?

“Some of the trainers might have ideas about what approach to take next.” Diplomatically, he did not mention his own opinions. “Now that Legacy is out of racing—”

“There is no reason to believe Legacy is done. The horse was on the verge of a Triple Crown win.”

A muscle kinked in Robbie’s shoulders.

“But if he’s not allowed to race again, shouldn’t we have a plan for developing the next Triple Crown winner?” There was so much potential in the stables at Quest, but the most time and money was spent on a handful of top prospects.

“I would think we are always planning for that.” Marcus gave a stiff nod to both of them. “Right now, we’re lucky to be racing any horses at all. My priority is keeping all of our horses in top condition until this scandal with Legacy is cleared up.”

With that, he left the office, stalking off to the stable or paddocks or wherever he was needed. Robbie’s blood simmered at the guy’s casual attitude about plans for the future.

“This guy is the salvation of Quest’s future?” he asked himself as much as Melanie.

She slid back into her boots and said nothing for a long moment.

“He’s done well since he’s been here. We just need to give him a chance.” She finally said the polite thing, but Robbie could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

He left the stable office in a black mood, determined to get the hell out of Dodge today. He might not relocate all the way into Twisted River in deference to his grandfather, but he could at least move his things into one of the cabins where the other trainers lived.

That was all he was around here, anyway. Marcus’s arrival had proven Robbie wasn’t a Preston on the fast track to success in the family business. He’d always stood a little outside the family, so he might as well live that reality now. If not for his devotion to the horses he’d raised himself, and a passion for racing, he would have left long ago. And really, if not for his grandfather, Robbie might have been tempted to take a few of his horses and start up a small stable of his own.

It was still something to consider.

And he would. Right after he went into town to lift a toast to his displaced status. A day like this one surely deserved a drink.

Chapter Two

The next morning, Robbie remembered why he shouldn’t drink.

He’d had a hell of a time drowning his anger until all hours, but since he didn’t cut himself any slack on his workday, he’d rolled out of bed with a hangover to face the same problems he’d left the day before.

Now, he finished exercising one of the colts Daniel Whittleson had purchased for the stables and passed off the reins to a groom. The horse was fast, his carriage solid, but the animal was peaking too fast.

“How many more are you going to take out?” a child’s voice called to him.

Robbie turned to see a scrawny kid watching him from the fence around the practice yard. His spiky dark hair was lighter at the tips, and the boy looked like a mini surfer dude with his tanned skin and board shorts. He wore flip-flops and a faded T-shirt under an open sweatshirt.

Robbie couldn’t remember seeing him around before, although with Quest’s extensive staff, there were certainly plenty of kids who lived on the property.

“Who wants to know?” Robbie strode closer to the fence, not minding a break. Besides, he’d served enough time standing at that fence all by himself in his youth to appreciate being the odd man out.

Hell, for that matter, welcome to his life today. He never had quite caught up to Brent and Andrew, his two older brothers, in the old man’s eyes.

“Kiefer Emory.” The boy straightened his skinny shoulders, though his feet remained planted on the lowest wooden rail. “I’m learning about horses. You sure ride a lot of ’em.”

Robbie couldn’t identify the accent, which didn’t have the softened vowels of a Kentucky native.

“I’m a hands-on trainer, so I like to ride them to test their skills.” He leaned against the fence and soaked up the September sun. His hungover eyes finally seemed to be recovering from the perpetual squint he’d had earlier in the day. “And I’m Robbie Preston, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Kiefer shook his hand with unexpected seriousness, like a mini grown-up. When he didn’t say any more, Robbie prodded him.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Do your parents work at Quest?”

“My mom started as the new office manager. We moved from Los Angeles last week.”

That explained the surfer-dude clothes. And Robbie remembered his own mother mentioning a new hire for the position. She’d decided to take a chance on the woman from L.A. because she was a widow.

A damn young widow if this kid was anything to go by. The idea of the boy hanging out at the rail by himself bugged Robbie.

“Welcome to Kentucky. And if you want to learn about horses, you’ve come to the right place.” He was about to invite the boy into the stables to see the horses close up when a flash of color caught his eye.

Looking up, he spotted the woman he’d seen speaking to Marcus yesterday. Only now, all traces of her easy laugh had disappeared. She charged toward them with determined steps, her jaw set and her lips compressed into a flat, disapproving line.

“Kiefer,” she called the moment she got within hearing range and then hastened her pace. “You’re supposed to be with Max at the after-school program here.”

The boy turned, hopping off the fence rail as his mother reached them, her silky blouse and flowered skirt fluttering lightly in the breeze.

“But I told you I was coming here to watch the horses after I got off the bus. Remember?” Kiefer gestured toward the fence rail.

Or…toward Robbie?

“Ah.” The woman seemed to notice him then, her sharp brown gaze taking him in with the careful perusal of a protective mother and not even an ounce of feminine interest.

His ego definitely would have smarted if not for his knowledge that she’d lost a husband. He had no idea how long ago that might have happened, but he couldn’t imagine the pain of losing someone that close to you.

“Robbie Preston, ma’am.” He held out a hand to her, strangely eager for her to take it.

He’d noticed her yesterday and remembered her after only a quick sighting. That was unusual for him. Not that he didn’t attract his fair share of female attention. But he’d been so focused on work the last few years—so hell bent on winning family approval and the chance to head up Quest’s training program—that he hadn’t spent much time dating. His relationships had been low-key and often pursued by the ladies who wanted them.

For a woman to turn his head without even trying was a new experience. Especially a widow with a son. Hell, his hangover must have scrambled his brains.

“Amanda Emory.” She took his hand as briefly as possible, her short pink nails barely registering before her hand was back at her side. “I’m the new office manager and I’m so sorry if my son has been pestering you.”

She looped an arm around the boy as if to whisk him away from a big, bad dragon.

The thought gave him pause. Had she been listening to family gossip about his supposed hothead nature? The idea rankled.

“He’s been no trouble at all. In fact, I was just—”

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” She backed away, her short, sharp heels sinking into the soft earth while her skirt billowed gently around her legs.

Damn it.

“Mrs. Emory—” The name didn’t sit right on his tongue and it didn’t stop her anyway. He raised his voice slightly. “Amanda.”

That one stopped her. She looked up at him again as if seeing him for the first time. And whoa. His ego was a hell of a lot more pleased with this encounter.

But before he could ask her a damn thing, she shuttered those pretty dark eyes and seemed to shake her head no.

“Sorry,” she said. “I need to return to the office since I hate to make a bad impression my first week on the job.” She offered him a half smile, but he noticed she never relinquished her firm—protective—hold on her son.

“I just want you to know I’d like to show Kiefer the stables sometime. If he’s interested in horses it’s something he won’t want to miss.” He grinned at the kid, recognizing he carried more clout with the boy than the mom.

Kiefer perked up as though he’d gotten a present.

“Can I, Mom?”

“Not today, but thank you very much, Mr. Preston.” Her feet kept moving, out of range, out of the influence of the legendary Robbie Preston temper.

Damn it, she had to have heard rumors to have lit out of there so fast. He watched her walk away, the gentle sway of her hips beneath her fluttery skirt drawing his eye despite his foul mood. He needed to get back to his work and not let the encounter bother him though.

Because, no matter what Marcus said about always being on the lookout for the next big champion, Robbie wasn’t leaving matters to chance. He’d ride every horse in the stables to see what kind of new talent was on the rise.

After all, horses were a damn sight easier to understand than women, and Robbie planned to stick to what he knew best.

Amanda remembered her meeting with the youngest Preston with a mixture of regret and embarrassment during her lunch hour the next day as she observed three of the stable’s trainers work with their horses in the practice yard. From the safety of the office window, she could view one particular man without him knowing.

And heaven help her, she wanted to watch.

She didn’t feel embarrassed about that because she wasn’t ready to date. Or at least she hadn’t thought she was. It had thrown her for a big-time loop the day before when her heart had started palpitating over a man so much younger than her.

How could forty-year-old hormones not have better judgment when they had finally decided to kick in after a two-year nap? She closed her eyes and remembered her husband’s face—a face still so beloved, but, dear heaven, it had been achingly long since she’d touched him. Heard his voice beside her in bed at night.

She knew Dan would never have wanted her to be alone for the rest of her life, so it wasn’t guilt she felt. Maybe it was more a matter of not wanting to give any spare time to a relationship when her kids deserved all that she—as a single parent—could possibly offer them. Besides, she couldn’t believe she’d experienced such a sharp twinge of awareness for a younger man who also happened to be her employer’s son.

Opening her eyes, she took one last look at Robbie Preston from two stories up. His athletic form was all too apparent in well-worn Levi’s and a gray T-shirt with the stable name printed in black. From what she’d heard, his temperament had put him at odds with the family more than once. But as she watched his easy way with the gray horse he led into the practice yard now, Amanda saw a sensitivity that belied the rumors about him. Her grandmother had been raised on a farm in northern California, and Granny swore that horses and dogs could size up a person faster than anything on two legs.

“Aren’t the horses beautiful?”

Amanda started at the feminine voice behind her and turned to find Jenna Preston, Robbie’s mother and the woman who’d hired her. Amanda’s cheeks heated to be caught staring, but thankfully, it hadn’t occurred to her kind employer that her attention had been fixed on one particular man among the horses. And for heaven’s sake, she needed to get her mind back on her work.

“I am still in awe of how beautiful Kentucky is.” That much was true. “The meadows and wildflowers—and the grass is so lush and green here. Everything is so green. And the Quest property is incredible with the acres of four rail fences and all the buildings painted to match.”

Jenna smiled, her blue eyes warm with pleasure. “I’m passing that compliment straight to our head groundskeeper. He takes a lot of pride in the property and it certainly shows.” Moving closer to the window, she frowned. “Have you met my youngest son yet?”

Apparently Robbie had only just come into her view. He was eye-to-eye with the gray horse as if they were having a meeting of minds. Amanda couldn’t help a smile at the thought and she understood why Kiefer had been so intrigued by this man.

“Actually, we met yesterday. I’ve been taking a late lunch to check on my two boys at the after-school program here and found my older son quietly hero-worshipping Robbie while he worked with the horses. I had to shuttle Kiefer back to Claudia’s house.”

Jenna brushed a restless hand through her wavy auburn hair, her eyes fixed on Robbie.

“He’s upset about us hiring an outsider as head trainer.” She turned to cock a halfhearted grin at Amanda. “And I’m not telling you any family secrets with that one—all of Quest knows that his father skipped over the most likely candidate for the head trainer position. I just wanted to let you know in case he was…surly with you.”

“Not at all.” She couldn’t explain the sudden surge of defensiveness she felt on Robbie’s behalf, since she hardly knew him, but it bubbled up nevertheless. “He couldn’t have been kinder to my son, even offering to show him the stables. If anything, I’m afraid I’ll have a hard time keeping Kiefer out of Robbie’s hair.”

Jenna looked thoughtful.

“He’s good with kids. Katie and Rhea—my son Brent’s twin girls—both adore him. I’m sure Robbie would welcome the distraction of Kiefer’s company these days, so I hope you won’t think twice about taking him up on the offer for a guided stable tour from an expert.”

Jenna patted her arm with a maternal reassurance that Amanda had seen her dole out to several of the employees during her short time at Quest. Robbie’s mother had given Amanda a chance at this job when she had no experience, just some online computer courses and a fierce will to get out of L.A.

So why would she be so reluctant to take a chance on her own son as head trainer?

“Maybe I will.” Amanda tightened her grip on the papers in her arm. “I’d better be getting back to work if I’m going to finish up with the file reorganization this week.”

And she really needed to walk away from the window where Robbie Preston inspired such unexpected feelings.

“I appreciate you undertaking such a big project right away. I knew our last manager had let things slide in those months he was looking for other work, but I didn’t realize how much of a mess the files had become until after he left.”

“I think we’ll all be able to work more efficiently once I’m done.” Truly, Amanda could never have functioned with the disorganization the previous administrator had left, so she was grateful when Jenna gave her the green light to overhaul nearly every facet of office procedure. The staff was small—only eight other people under Amanda’s direct supervision—but the other employees had been around long enough that it would have been a headache to implement changes without Jenna’s blessing.

“And by the way, Amanda, we’re hosting a small dinner party at the main house on Friday for a handful of local Thoroughbred owners who are also friends. Why don’t you join us for drinks if you have time? I think it would be nice for you to put some faces to the names you must be seeing over and over again in your paperwork. We do strive to keep the business feeling like family despite our size.”

Warmed by the invitation, Amanda was reminded all over again how fortunate she’d been to land here, far away from her personal demons on the West Coast.

“I’d be delighted, Mrs. Preston. Thank you.”

“Call me Jenna and it’s a date.”

With a quick wave, she was off again, no doubt to lift someone else’s spirits or assist around the office any way she could. Amanda admired her generous nature and wondered if her family knew how much she contributed to the business in her understated way.

Amanda had no intention of letting Jenna Preston down—not in the office and not at the dinner party. That meant focusing on her job and not speculating whether a certain horse trainer would be in attendance at the Preston house Friday night.

Amanda wasn’t going to be happy.

Robbie knew by the end of the week that he’d be hearing from Kiefer Emory’s uptight mother sooner or later about the time her son had been spending around the stables. Robbie hadn’t mistaken the disapproval in her eyes when she’d hauled Kiefer away the last time, but the boy had made a point of stopping by after school every day until Robbie reminded him he should be heading to the care program run by one of the women who lived on the property.

Today was no exception.

“Is this horse your favorite?” Kiefer called to him from his usual spot at the rail of the practice yard, his school backpack at his feet, his toes now respectably covered in boots instead of flip flops.

“What makes you ask that?” Robbie eased up onto the colt he was working with. “I spend equal time with all of my horses.”

At least, he had for the last few weeks while trying to get a feel for where each of the Thoroughbreds stood in their training.

“You look at this one different.” Kiefer shrugged, apparently disinclined to pinpoint his reason any more than that. “I can just tell.”

Robbie patted the colt’s neck and steered him closer to the rail so Kiefer could do the same.

“This one is called Something to Talk About and I think he’s the next hot prospect for Quest Stables.”

Robbie had never possessed the strange kind of equine intuitiveness his sister Melanie seemed to have, but he knew enough about horses to feel the potential for power in this one. The gray colt showed hints of racing brilliance on the track and his temperament caught Robbie’s eye. The colt didn’t mingle with the other horses, preferring to keep his own counsel. And there was a spiritedness about him, a proud determination that Robbie recognized all too well.

“You mean he’s going to be a racing champion?” Kiefer stroked the animal’s nose.

Behind Kiefer, Robbie noticed his nieces, Katie and Rhea. The twins had been bending over an electronic game until one pointed out Robbie and Kiefer.

“Hey, California!” Katie called, handing the game to her sister. “Did you learn to ride yet?”

The two ran off before Kiefer could respond, clearly smitten with the boy who must be about a year older than them. But to Robbie’s surprise, Kiefer flushed and he looked worried.

“Robbie, can you teach me how to ride? All the kids at school know how and they think—” He shook his head and seemed to change his approach. “Well, they all learned to ride a long time ago and I don’t want to be the loser who can’t.”

“Son, if you think those girls see you as a loser, then you’re really missing the boat on understanding females.” Hell, even from a hundred yards away Robbie could still see his nieces’ matched heads turning around to look at the new kid on the block.

“It’s not about them.” Kiefer’s face flushed even deeper and Robbie figured if Amanda didn’t get riled about him hanging out with Kiefer this week, she’d definitely get mad when she found out Robbie had been sharing advice about women with a boy who hadn’t reached the age of interest in girls yet.

“Is anybody giving you a hard time at school?” Robbie would gladly put aside whatever awkwardness there might be with Amanda if Kiefer needed help with some snot-nosed bully.

“No.” Kiefer shook his head quickly and lightly twisted some of the horse’s mane around his finger. “But it’s tough being the new guy. I knew everyone at my last school. We surfed and skateboarded there. Here, everyone rides.”

Robbie considered the request, knowing he couldn’t do jack to teach the boy anything without his mother’s blessing. But Kiefer didn’t exaggerate. In Woodford County, the kids who didn’t own horses knew five other people who did. Growing up in this area meant you loved horses and basketball. It seemed genetically programmed.

“Have you asked your mother about some lessons?”

“She said I should join the stable’s riding club.” Kiefer looked up from his fascination with the horse’s mane. “But all the kids there already know how to ride.”

“Ah.” Robbie hated to wade into this any deeper, but then again, hadn’t he lived his whole life by jumping into challenging situations with both feet? “You think it might help if I talked to her about some private lessons?”

Kiefer’s face lit up so fast Robbie couldn’t help but smile even though he might have put himself on the warpath with Amanda.

“Would you?”

“I can’t promise how soon it will be, but I’ll try to track her down.”

“She has to go to the main house tonight,” Kiefer offered, hopping down from the fence. “I’m going to get my homework done in case she says we can start tomorrow.”

“Kief—”

The kid was honest-to-God already booking it up the path to his caregiver’s cabin, his backpack jouncing up and down as he ran. He turned and waved from about fifty yards away, his feet never slowing.

“Thanks, Robbie!” he shouted.

Something to Talk About danced sideways underneath him, impatient to begin while Robbie tried to figure out what he’d gotten himself into.

No doubt about it, he’d have to stop by the main house after work tonight. Kiefer Emory’s eyes had been too damn hopeful for Robbie to do anything but give it his best shot with Amanda. Kiefer didn’t know that Robbie’s least favorite place to hang out these days was the main house where his family congregated, united in their mistrust of him.

How fitting that prickly Amanda would be joining their ranks.

Since he’d moved out of the Preston family residence that week without a word to anyone, the evening promised to be interesting.

Chapter Three

Crap.

Robbie might have turned around before he got to the door of the main house if it hadn’t been for his memory of Kiefer’s face today. He knew what it was like to want to fit in so badly—a feeling he’d wrestled with where his brothers were concerned all his life. But he hadn’t expected to show up at the house while his family was entertaining. The cars in the driveway could have been the showroom for a high-end dealership or the VIP parking lot at Saratoga or Keeneland. His parents’ friends tended to be as wealthy as they were and could afford horses even more expensive than their cars—and that was saying something.

“Mister Robbie, we’ve been hoping you would join us.” Betsy Fuller, the Prestons’ household manager, held the door of the sprawling redbrick house wide, her simple dress more that of a maid than of a woman earning the fat salary Robbie knew she collected for running a property bigger than some country clubs.

It was part of Betsy’s charm that she’d never commented on family politics or Robbie’s long absences. She had open arms and extra place settings for anyone who showed up on the doorstep and it was one of the many reasons everyone adored her.

“I didn’t know they were entertaining tonight or I wouldn’t have shown up in work clothes.” Beyond Betsy, Robbie could see the candles lit throughout the downstairs, giving the place a festive look despite the heavy dark wood of the moldings and banisters, the rich burgundies and reds of the upholstered furniture. He knew all the guests would be out having cocktails on the veranda before dinner and he planned to make sure he avoided the family at all costs.

“If you hurry, you can change before they sit down.” She checked her watch to make sure and then winked at him. “I can usually talk Judge Parker into an extra bourbon before dinner.”

“Thanks, but I can’t stay. I just came to speak to Amanda Emory if she’s here.” He stepped deeper into the front hall, peering around as if she might come into view any second. “Have you met the new office manager?”

“Of course I have.” Betsy appeared mightily offended at the idea that she would ever be unaware of family business. “She’s out back with the family for cocktails, son. Now, why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed?”

Robbie had left some clothes here when he’d moved out earlier in the week, so technically, he could make an appearance. But damn it, he wasn’t going to play the family game of pretending he belonged here when they’d made it all too clear to him that he wasn’t good enough to take on a big role at Quest.

“No thanks.” He shook his head, regretting more than anything that he had to disappoint Betsy. She’d never treated him any differently than anyone else in the family. “Would you mind just letting her know that I’m here if I promise to have her back before you move into the dining room?”

If Betsy had an opinion on that, she kept it to herself, settling for a quick nod.

“I’ll pass along the message.”

She hurried off through the house while Robbie waited out front, the strains of a violin mingling with laughter from the veranda. His eyes went to the portraits of horses lining the walls. In other rooms, there were photographs and paintings of people. But here in the foyer there were horses dating back to Hugh Preston’s earliest days at Aqueduct Racetrack in Queens where he’d first studied horses and made his earliest bets. There was a photo of Hugh with Clare’s Quest, the little filly who’d brought his first big win.

Marching across the hunter-green walls were paintings of Old Barley, the stallion that had given Hugh a win at Saratoga to finance the family’s move to Kentucky, followed by more horses that had all added to a family fortune spread across two continents. There weren’t many portraits of horses from Robbie’s cousins’ farm in Hunter Valley, Australia, but there were a few. He looked at them now instead of thinking about Amanda Emory’s potential reaction to his visit.

“Robbie?”

Her voice surprised him, even though he’d been expecting her.

He turned to find a far more sophisticated woman than he remembered. Her pretty dark hair and eyes were the same, but the outfit she wore… Damn it, he had no business taking in the soft curves of her slender frame, but the simple strapless blue cocktail dress she wore seemed to demand it. She’d thrown a yellow lace shawl around her shoulders, but it didn’t hide much of anything. Another hint of lace peeked out below the dress’s knee-length hem, accentuating her legs and drawing his gaze much too low.

Hell.

“Sorry to take you away from the group.” He launched into conversation to recover from the awkward moment. “I won’t keep you.”

He waited for her to run away from him, as she had that day by the practice yard, or to come up with some excuse why she couldn’t speak to him, since he supposed she’d been influenced by popular opinion regarding his character. Instead, she smiled warmly, the way he remembered from the first time he’d seen her.

“Actually, I’m really glad to see you.”

He wondered if his eyes widened as much as he felt they did.

Probably they did, since she laughed.

“I mean it. And I’m sorry if I seemed short with you the day we met, but it’s stressful starting a new job and I worried about taking time away to oversee Kiefer.”

She smelled delicious—like flowers and maybe vanilla. He wanted to lean in for a more definitive sniff.

“He’s a great kid.” He wanted to make it clear that he didn’t mind Kiefer’s presence around the stables.

And he definitely wanted to remember why he was here since it didn’t have anything to do with ogling a woman he had no business pursuing.

“Thank you.” She smiled with maternal pleasure and managed to look even more beautiful than she had two minutes ago. “I’m very proud of both my boys but sometimes it’s hard to step back from the day-in and day-out worries to appreciate how really great they are. I’m fortunate.”

“You have two sons?” Robbie knew Kiefer hadn’t mentioned a brother, but the boy had been fairly wrapped up in learning about horses all week.

“Max is six and Kiefer is nine. And actually, I’ve been meaning to seek you out to thank you for the time you’ve spent with Kiefer this week. He feels more sure of himself at school now that he can talk about horses without sounding like a total outsider.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Robbie lowered his voice as one of the maids hurried through the foyer with a vase of flowers. No doubt they were trying to get the dining room prepped for the meal. The laughter of the cocktail crowd drifted through the halls.

“He’s starting to get underfoot? I can—”

“No. Nothing like that.” He put a hand on top of her fluttering one, a reflex reaction to her concern that suddenly drop-kicked him in the libido. The feel of her soft skin under his palm sent a surge of heat clean through him, the awareness a palpable thing between them.

She stilled, frozen, her hand in midair beneath his. He would have moved away faster if he could have sent the proper set of messages along his neurons, but his body didn’t seem to obey. He stood there for a long moment, absorbing the silken texture of her and breathing her scent.

She recovered first, snatching her hand away quickly even if the reaction had been delayed.

“Then what is it?” Her words were a little breathless, or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

“Kiefer wants to learn how to ride.” He was grateful for the words once he got them past his lips. They gave him something new to think about.

“I know he does, but honestly, I can’t afford—”

“Amanda, you haven’t gotten to know the Prestons well enough yet if you think we would want you to pay for outside lessons when you work at the biggest horse-training facility in the Commonwealth of Kentucky.”

“Really, I couldn’t ask for any special favors.” Her words were firm, her posture perfectly straight. She had “good girl” written on her so clearly he couldn’t help but smile, although he didn’t find her ethics half so amusing as he found his attraction to someone so sweetly upstanding. His sketchy track record with women ran more to the hell-raising variety, but there was no denying his physical response to Amanda.

“It’s not a special favor.” He gestured to the house behind her. “You’re already standing in my mother’s foyer, having cocktails with the neighbors. Trust me when I tell you, we want you to feel like family here.” He might not agree with all the family’s decisions, but Robbie was proud of the way they treated their staff. The corporate culture was decidedly down-home here. “And I just wanted your blessing that Kiefer has permission to ride before I let him on a horse. But I hope you’d never consider outsourcing riding lessons when you live here. We tend to know our horses around Quest Stables.”

She grinned. “I guess you have a point there.”

“As long as you don’t mind, I can send Kiefer back to school with enough horse knowledge to set the other kids back a few steps.” His knowledge might not impress the old man, but it could knock the socks off fourth graders.

“That would be really generous of you.” She pulled the thin lace shawl tighter around her shoulders, clenching the fabric hard as if she could ward off the attraction zinging around the room. “But if he gets to be any trouble, I hope you’ll let me know.”

“I can do that. Although the traditional way to straighten out any troublemaking in a stable is to present the offender with a pitchfork and a stall for mucking.”

“I see you know kids better than I realized.”

“I’ve had a bit of a history with troublemaking myself.”

“And your days with a pitchfork successfully reformed you?”

“I’m going to have to plead the Fifth on that one.”

Behind Amanda, the voices from the veranda grew louder as two men disputed the racing odds at an upcoming meet. A door slammed and the violin stopped playing.

“They must be coming in for dinner.” Amanda turned toward the sound before glancing back at him. “I’m not staying for the meal, but I should go in and make my goodbyes before they sit down.”

He nodded, not wanting to cross paths with his family yet.

“Fine. I’ll wait for you and walk you to your car.” He didn’t know why he offered.

No, he knew why he offered. He wished he had a little more restraint since she was clearly reluctant where he was concerned.

“That’s not necessary. Thank you for the offer of lessons for Kiefer.” She stepped away, eager to please his parents and play the proper guest.

“Not a problem.” He smiled genially, but stood his ground and waited for her return.

She might think they had settled matters between them now that they’d agreed on Kiefer riding. But in Robbie’s mind, they’d only succeeded in uncovering a bigger issue. And like any elephant in a room, the attraction between them wouldn’t go away just because they ignored it.

These had to be some of the warmest people Amanda had ever met.

She shook hands with several of the Prestons’ friends and said her goodbyes, surprised to feel such easy acceptance after a short amount of time at Quest Stables. The unquestioning welcome, the gracious attempts to make her feel at home, helped ease the transition from her friends and family back in L.A.

As she walked toward the foyer and the front door to leave for the night, she realized that if she wasn’t so scared of the past following her, she would be throwing herself into her new life. She might even have explored the source of that steady regard in Robbie Preston’s eyes every time she was around….

But that was foolish.

As her high heels clicked down the polished hardwood, she chided herself for thinking like that about a man who was not only a decade younger than her but also her employer’s son. And besides that, since when did she think about the “regard” in any man’s eyes? She’d barely looked at a carrier of the Y chromosome since—

“I tried to leave,” Robbie announced, his long, lean frame unfolding from where he’d been sitting on a chair in the foyer. “But with the sun setting earlier and you being new in town, I couldn’t let you navigate your way to your car on your own.”

Shrugging, he offered her his arm and she stared at it for a moment, knowing this contact with him could be dangerous.

Then she gave herself a mental shake. Dangerous for her maybe. A gorgeous, wealthy male like Robbie Preston surely didn’t feel the same pulse of awareness when they were together that she did. He probably had women falling all over themselves to give him a lot more than a little company for a stroll across the grass.

She was being silly.

Reaching out to him, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

“Is this part of that legendary Southern hospitality I’ve heard so much about?” She kept her tone light, reminding herself that he probably viewed her as nothing more than a nice older woman. A mother. An employee.

He held the door for her and they stepped out onto the wide front porch. The stars were popping out as the cooler air greeted them. She pulled her shawl closer and warded off a sudden shiver.

“Actually, there are plenty of people who would argue that Kentucky isn’t part of either the south or the north.” He slowed his pace as she prepared to step down onto the front walk. “Southerners think this is the north and Northerners consider this the south, so we’re in the unique position of not being claimed by either one.”

Her heel hitched on a high spot as they stepped out onto the grass and she had no choice but to squeeze his arm to steady herself. Just for a moment.

Solid muscle lurked beneath his soft chambray work shirt. And yes, she only noticed that as a matter of curiosity. Robbie was a handsome man with a compelling presence and powerful physique—all things that any woman would notice, she hoped.

Then again, perhaps the cocktail she’d had with Jenna Preston’s friends accounted for a hyper awareness that felt both embarrassing and uncomfortable.

“Well maybe it’s not a north-south issue, but a Kentucky trait. I’ve been the recipient of amazing kindness since I moved here.” She peered around the lawn looking for her car. There were many more people parked along either side of the driveway than when she’d first arrived.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Robbie pointed out her compact car parked behind an exotic foreign number. “Is this you over here?”

“Is it that easy to pick out the hired help’s cars?” She was definitely out of her element here. Although she’d been pleased enough with the outfit she’d pulled together from her closet tonight, she knew a converted bridesmaid’s dress and a bargain warehouse lace shawl didn’t give her the same style points as the women who moved in the racing world. At least she wore the same size she had in college and she favored classic pieces, so she had a few old dresses in her wardrobe.

The dresses she’d seen on guests tonight had been the kind women ordered off runways or—at the very least—snapped up in tony boutiques.

Robbie paused to peer down at her in the night now gone almost fully dark.

“I remembered seeing a car like this with California plates, so I figured it must belong to our only west-coast transplant.” His forehead scrunched and she realized he was disappointed or perhaps upset that she had misinterpreted his words. “And I want you to know that an abundance of money has never been an indicator of anyone’s character in my eyes.”

His words soothed her even if she didn’t want to admit she’d been a smidge intimidated tonight.

“Of course.” She nodded quickly, all too aware of his presence beneath the rising luminescent moon. With the cool night air blowing around her skirt hem and brushing her shawl along her arms like a lover’s fingers, she could almost get caught up in a moment she had no business being in. And sweet stars in heaven, what was the matter with her? “I couldn’t help but notice every car but mine cost more than my last house. I hadn’t counted on so much…glamour when I came to work at a Kentucky horse farm. It doesn’t sound like such a sophisticated job on paper, but now that I’m here, I can’t help but see a really different lifestyle than what I’d expected.”

She released his arm, determined to extricate herself from whatever moonlight madness had taken hold of her tonight. Pulling the shawl tighter around her shoulders, she moved toward the car.

“Amanda?”

His voice halted her, the smoky warmth of it sliding down her spine and making her shiver.

If she didn’t work for him—for his family—she would have damned the consequences of being rude and simply hurried away. She prayed the feelings he stirred up tonight were merely a weird by-product of all the changes in her life, the new faces and places, and being caught up in an evening where she was just a woman and not a mother. Her dress made her feel vulnerable, too aware of herself in a way that her chinos and polo shirts never did.

And what if this attraction was all one-sided? Maybe she imagined the response she felt in him. For all she knew, he could be silently laughing at her—or be totally shocked—because of their age difference.

Pausing, she dug for her keys in a tiny evening bag and waited for him to speak, her heels sinking into the soft bluegrass the longer she stood still. Would she sink into this place—this lifestyle—just as surely?

The Prestons’ home glittered with lights as it sprawled across the lawn behind Robbie, and Amanda suspected it would be all too easy to find new happiness here. If only she didn’t have to worry about bringing trouble with her wherever she went.

“If you need any help settling in, I wish you’d give me a call.” His dark-blue eyes held hers in the moonlight—and damn it, why did she have to remember his eyes were the exact shade of the Pacific right before a storm blew in?

Giving into a childish impulse, she squeezed her eyes tight for a moment to break the connection. Or maybe she needed to shut out the dark charm of this charismatic horse trainer who’d already won over her son.

Wrenching open her lids, she forced herself to smile. Nod. Tug her heels out of the earth so she could back up another step.

“Thank you, Robbie.” His name felt too personal as she wrapped her lips around the word. “We’re already feeling at home here, but I appreciate that.”

Fumbling with her keys, she found the right one and inserted it into the lock.

“Thanks for letting me work with Kiefer on his riding. He’s a great kid.”

Amanda’s maternal heart glowed with the small stroke of praise even as she hoped he wouldn’t say more. It was bad enough she already felt an uneasy feminine response to this man. If he could appeal to the more fierce side of her—her motherly sensibilities—she’d be toast.

“It’s me who should be grateful.” One more nod. Smile. She sank into the driver’s seat and lifted a cheery wave. “Goodnight, Robbie.”

He probably returned the nicety, but Amanda lost herself in a whirlwind of activity inside the car. She shut the door, jangled her keys into place in the ignition and turned the engine over. She had mirrors to check and windows to look out—so long as all her focus was on backing up and not on backing away from Robbie Preston. Only when she was safely out on the driveway and ready to take off did she brave a quick glance at the man who had her wound so tight.

Sure enough his eyes were on her.

And just like that a jolt of pure, unadulterated feminine pleasure pulsed through her veins, making her feel more alive than she had in…a long time. Heaven help her.

Within the next second, she made the decision to stay as far away from Robbie Preston as possible.

Chapter Four

Amanda Emory should not have been on his mind.

Robbie waved to the exercise rider currently working with a claiming horse on the Polytrack outside the paddock. Nodding, the rider pressed the horse harder while Robbie forced himself to concentrate on his job. Normally, he prided himself on offering the lower-quality claiming horses and the allowance horses the same thorough attention he gave to the stakes horses that ran in the major races. But today, despite the strong workout from the focused filly, Robbie found himself remembering the worry in Amanda’s eyes the week before when he’d walked her to her car. Tapping his pencil against his clipboard, he jotted some notes about the filly’s increased weight and muscle definition. The new maturity really showed in her gait and confidence as she aced the breezing workout.

And why did Amanda seem more nervous than a yearling with a new trainer?

Jabbing his pencil back into the clip along the top of the board, he waved off the exercise rider and moved on to the next horse. A few fall leaves stirred around his feet despite the lingering warm weather. He’d been thinking about Amanda all week, unable to concentrate on his training programs with the same insight he normally brought to the exercise yard. A cranky owner had groused at him about something the day before—a confrontation that would have set him off at any other time, since this particular owner never put his horses’ needs first—but Robbie had shrugged off the complaints easily since he’d been ruminating about why Amanda would be uncomfortable around him.

Because it couldn’t be just about the attraction.

He knew she felt it the same way he knew she didn’t want to feel it. He could read her body language the way he could read a temperamental filly’s when she needed more exercise or a day of rest. That intuitiveness had created half the problems in his family relationships; he’d always been able to sense his father’s disappointment in him even if Thomas didn’t verbalize it, and that had made Robbie resentful from an early age.

So he didn’t doubt that the awareness he felt was fully reciprocated on her end. What he didn’t understand was the source of her worry. He guessed the emotion ran deeper than any surface resistance to being attracted to him.

Amanda Emory was a woman of complex thoughts and feelings—the kind of woman he usually left well enough alone, since his life as the black-sheep Preston had been enough of a mess on its own. But like everything else about his connection to Amanda, that didn’t make sense either.

“Are you losing your touch, boy?” a familiar voice called from behind him.

Robbie turned to see his grandfather ambling up the small rise toward the exercise yard, his worn jeans and long-sleeved plaid shirt never hinting at his multimillionaire status. Behind him, the spread of Quest Stables made a hell of a scene, the rolling hills and meadows in the distance, the bluegrass starting to dry out with autumn in the wind, the leaves starting to drop—a thousand acres of prime horse country.

At eighty-six years old, Hugh still liked to spend time around the stables—almost as much as he enjoyed checking out races around the globe with his horse-crazy cronies, guys who’d come up in the racing world along with him. But Hugh would have been as comfortable on a ranch out west as on a farm in Kentucky. As long as there were horses nearby, he was content.

Except for right now, it seemed.

“What’s the matter, Granddad?” Robbie waved to the colt’s rider to initiate the workout while Hugh joined him at the rail.

“I saw you let that filly finish her workout without talking to the rider about how she felt from his point of view.” Hugh raised a hand when Robbie started to protest. “I know you’ve got a schedule to keep, but that filly looked better than she has all summer.”

Robbie staunched an inward sigh, respecting his grandfather’s perspective. Besides, hadn’t he been chastising himself for the same thing his granddad complained about?

“You’re right.” He nodded. Took his lumps like a man. At least Granddad said what was on his mind instead of letting problems fester beneath the skin.

Like his father.

“What?” Hugh frowned as he clapped Robbie on the shoulder. “No argument from the family rabble rouser? I thought you were always spoiling for a fight?”

Hugh’s weathered face split into a grin and then the two men assumed the same position at the fence—one boot up on the bottom rail and arms folded along the top.

“How can I argue when you’re right? I should have talked to the rider. But I did make a note to call the owner and let him know the filly is showing more promise. Her sire never brought much performance to the track, but this horse could be a whole different package.”

The sun shone warm on his arms as Robbie tracked the colt now making the first easy laps of his workout. This was why he had got into training—the freedom to work outside and be his own boss. Except for the head trainer’s occasional input, there was no one to tell Robbie how to do his job out here. Horses didn’t argue. At least not in so many words.

“So, if you already know everything your old Pops came over here to say, care to explain why you’re off your stride?” Hugh stole his clipboard to look over the notes Robbie had been making on the day’s workouts.

Robbie never lied to this man. Nor did he hedge. It was a point of honor between the most outspoken men in the Preston clan that even when they were forced to control their tongues around other family members, they never bothered with such social caginess around each other.

Which left Robbie fairly tongue-tied at the moment.

“Ah!” Hugh’s head popped up from the clipboard, his gray hair lifting in the breeze. “The eloquent sound of silence says it all.”

Blue eyes twinkling, the older man gave a knowing grin.

“It’s not what you think.” Robbie didn’t want to tread down this road today, not even with one of his favorite people.

“And what do I think? Give your grandfather some credit for having eyes, son. I didn’t get as far as I did in this business reading horses without gaining a few skills in reading people, too. You’ve got the same talent as me, so you know what I say isn’t just some trackside bettor blowing smoke.” Hugh passed back the clipboard. “You should have told me you were having woman trouble and I would have understood exactly why you’re off your game today.”

Robbie jammed the training notes under his arm.

“I’m not having trouble with a woman.” He had no business thinking about Amanda anyway. She just had a way of creeping into his thoughts when his mind was quiet.

And, if he was honest, even when it wasn’t.

“Who is she? Some gal up in Twisted River you haven’t bothered to bring around here?” Hugh pounded a fist on the fence post. “Damn it, boy, we don’t know what’s going on with you since you let your father chase you out of the house.”

Here we go.

Robbie steeled himself for the battle.

“Granddad, you know we don’t see eye-to-eye on this.” He stared out at the training yard and caught sight of Melanie coming in on Leopold’s Legacy.

Both men waved as she turned the horse in their direction.

“We should see eye-to-eye since I’ve been telling you not to let your father get under your skin since you were four years old.” Hugh grumbled, groused and then put the subject away. “So help me, I want to meet this woman you’ve been thinking about. Do you hear?”

Robbie nodded absently because his grandfather would never let it go otherwise.

“How did he do today?” Robbie called out to his sister, envious of the way her duties as a jockey allowed her to ride far from the drama that always seemed to be circulating around the main house. His new set-up, residing in one of the staff cabins, might have removed him from the continual disagreements with his father and the rift between him and his brothers, but the arrangement brought new problems.

He had the distinct feeling it made the other staffers less at ease to have a Preston in their midst. There was a guardedness around the cabins now that had never been there when he used to pass by as a visitor.

“He ran like a champion.” Melanie shook her head, her shoulders drooping. “He could be earning fat purses and the adoration of the whole racing community if it wasn’t for this mystery about his sire.”

A groom came over to take the reins from Melanie as she slid to the ground beside them.

“It’s the damnedest thing I’ve heard of,” Hugh declared, shaking his head over the issue that was never far from any Preston’s mind these days. “I’ll bet you any money it’s some computer error. Back when we used to keep information in file drawers, people knew how to access it. Now that everything is done by computer, people don’t know how to make their own damn breakfast without some bleeping machine telling them how to do it.”

Robbie watched the groom walk away with Leopold’s Legacy. Not so long ago, he and Melanie would have exchanged a wink over Granddad’s tirade. But these days, they hoped he had a point and there was some computer error behind the discrepancy in Leopold’s Legacy’s blood work.

As Melanie launched into her ideas for clearing the horse to run in Dubai next month, Robbie’s eyes snagged on a figure walking up a path from the stables toward the Quest offices.

A sweetly feminine figure he’d been seeing in his mind’s eye all day.

“Would you excuse me?” He tossed out the question as a social nicety but didn’t stick around for the answer. Plunking his training notes on a nearby bench, he stepped away from his sister and grandfather, his eyes glued to Amanda Emory and her tense body language.

With one elbow bent and her hand at her ear, she appeared to be on a cell phone. Her shoulders were rigid and her lips pulled into a taut line as she stalked past an urn of red flowers along the asphalt path that wound through much of the property.

As he neared her, she became aware of his presence and lowered her chin as if to keep her conversation private. He hadn’t meant to intrude on a talk he had no business hearing.

Which made him wonder who she might be talking to. He’d never considered there might be someone else in her life. Someone she’d turned to after her husband’s death…

And now he felt like a real jerk for barging into her personal life. He had backed up a step to leave when she pressed the off button on her phone and looked him in the eye.

“I’m sorry if I intruded—” he started.

Then he saw the expression on her face. The tense brow, the widened eyes, the skin paler than it should be.

“What is it?” He stepped closer now, automatically concerned by anything that would upset her. Their attraction aside, she seemed like a nice lady who’d been through too much.

He watched her tuck her phone into a pocket of her long skirt. She was back to work clothes today, a simple yellow blouse tucked into a red skirt with yellow tulips around the hem.

“It’s nothing.” She shook her head. Attempted a smile that wasn’t one bit successful. “Some updates from my old neighborhood. I guess I was feeling a little homesick.”

He gauged her tone and suspected there was some truth in the statement. He also suspected there was more to it that she wasn’t telling him. Not that he had any right to know her personal business. He told himself to back off, even as he gestured toward the path ahead so that he could walk with her wherever she was headed.

“You’re a long way from the west coast.” He could almost feel his grandfather’s eyes boring into his back as he headed away from the training yard.

No doubt Hugh Preston would assume Amanda had been the woman distracting Robbie today. And while that would be correct, Robbie hadn’t made up his mind to do anything about it yet. And having his grandfather pushing them together or asking her pointed questions could make the work environment damned uncomfortable.

He had enough on his mind with his family’s vote of no-confidence on the head trainer job. He didn’t need to add complications to a personal life he’d done a poor job of managing.

“We lived north of L.A., but I was born and raised in Orange County. I was surfing by the time I was four.” She seemed grateful for the change in topic and he was relieved to see the color return to her cheeks.

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