Something to Talk About

“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.”