The Heat of the Moment Read online

  Martin was standing in front of her with the saddle in his hands, two of the lads down the yard watching. She smiled and, taking the saddle from Martin, walked on, but that night, she hardly slept for the pain in her arm. She remembered the van’s mirror knocking her elbow as it passed but felt certain that if she rested it all would be well.

  For the next few days, she said nothing to anyone about her injured arm but wore an elastic bandage on it to save it from unnecessary strain while she worked, but at night it continued to break her sleep.

  As the day of her first race meeting since her accident nearly two years earlier drew nearer her arm continued to ache, no worse but no better. She carried on as usual in the yard and slept with the aid of painkillers at night.

  There had been no more word from Tenerife and Frances had tried to smother her worry with work. She searched all the riding magazines for word of Kane, but never found anything. She read through all the financial pages she could find, trying to discover what was happening with the companies Kane had hoped to deal with, but there was nothing there either.

  Now, the day of her big moment dawned and Firefly was as ready as he would ever be.

  ‘Dancing out of his skin,’ Tes sa grumbled as she and Frances watched him being boxed.

  ‘If he’s too much for her she’ll let him go. She’s promised me,’ Martin said as he joined them.

  Tessa gave Frances a stern look.

  ‘Did you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Well, make sure you do. The last thing we want is you ending up back where we started two years ago.’

  Martin gave his wife a kiss and climbed into the touring van that passed as Frances’s changing-room on the course. Frances climbed in beside him and with a wave they were off. Martin had two horses that afternoon but one of the other jockeys was riding the second horse and had gone ahead in the box with the driver.

  Halfway down the road, Martin’s mobile went off.

  ‘Here, you answer it,’ he said pulling it from his pocket and tossing it to Frances.

  ‘Hello? It’s Tessa and she wants you.’

  ‘Well, she can’t have me. Doesn’t she know its illegal now to use the phone on the road?’

  ‘She says it’s important. You’ll have to pull over.’

  ‘Drat the woman. Won’t you do?’

  ‘Apparently not.’

  ‘We’re in heavy traffic. Tell her she’ll have to wait and I’ll ring her back.’ Frances passed on the message, then said, ‘She said to be quick.’

  ‘Fancy a bite to eat?’ he asked as he pulled into a pub parking area a few miles down the road.

  They left the van and made their way inside. It was early for lunch but the barmaid promised them a sandwich in five minutes. The race wasn’t until two and it was only a half hour’s drive farther on. Martin bought them both a drink then went off to return Tessa’s call. When he came back, Frances thought he was unusually quiet and asked him if anything was wrong. He immediately cheered up.

  ‘No, nothing important’

  It had sounded pretty important to Tessa, she thought, but as the sandwiches arrived, the phone call was forgotten.

  They arrived at the course not long afterwards and Martin buzzed around like a hungry bee, as Frances went to collect her gear. He shepherded her back to the van to change, hung around while she got ready and then walked down to the paddock with her. Frances assumed it was all on account of Tessa making him promise to look after her.

  Normally she wouldn’t have seen him until they met in the paddock prior to the race. Today she put up with his fussing for she felt in need of all the reassurance she could muster. She had taken two strong painkillers and wrapped her arm in elastic bandage. The rest was up to her knowledge of the horse she was riding and her skill at communicating with him.

  The sun came out as they walked towards the paddock. The owners of Martin’s second horse came out to meet him. They swarmed, questioned and dispersed as other trainers demanded his attention and Frances carried on alone to Firefly’s side. He was tossing his head and sidling this way and that. People parted around him, keeping out of the way of his hind legs as Frances came up to him and took hold of the bridle. Now he stood still and dropped his head as she pulled his ears and whispered to him.

  Soon it was time to mount up and the groom gave her a leg up while Martin double-checked girth and stirrup. She checked her chin strap and took up the reins. Her silks were purple with white bands and when she pulled her goggles down and adjusted them, she looked no different from any of the other jockeys preparing to go down to the start.

  As she moved out on to the track and trotted down the rail, an ugly face with panhandle ears seemed to stare up at her for a moment then was gone as she passed.

  I am seeing things now, she thought, and the shock released her body from tension and she relaxed into the saddle as Firefly cantered forward.

  When the race started, they were out in front far too soon as Firefly flew over yet another hurdle. Tessa was right—he was too strong for her so she gave him his head and let him go.

  Her injured arm lay virtually useless along his neck. However, there was nothing wrong with her legs and her voice as she called to him and encouraged him. With two more hurdles to go he was in the lead. Frances’s heart raced with him. In seconds, another horse was alongside him. They jumped together, Firefly landing just inches ahead.

  At the last, Firefly pecked and his head went down. Frances threw her body weight back along the saddle and with a grunt he was up and running again. Their rival was two lengths ahead of them and the thunder of following horses sounded terribly close when Frances called for that last bit of effort.

  The ears in front of her twitched and she laughed in her throat as his stride lengthened and she thought he was going to bite the rump of the horse in front as they closed the gap. Then they were in the lead again . . .

  ‘You won, you really won,’ Martin shouted at her as they headed for the winners’ enclosure.

  Once there, she popped a leg over the horse’s back and slid down to the ground. She pulled off the saddle and stepped back as a blanket was thrown over his back. For a moment, the press of the crowd and the excited noise of the congratulations all became a bit too much, leaving her feeling giddy and lightheaded. Then the pain kicked in and she nearly fainted.

  Somehow she managed to smile and nod as she made her way to the weighing room. Then it was back to the van to change before she was headed back into the paddock for interview and photographs.

  Wearily she pulled open the van door and climbed inside, closing the door just as someone inside the van stood up. With a groan her knees buckled and all went black . . .

  When she opened her eyes it was to those same white walls and green curtains that had become so familiar to her in the weeks after her injury. But that was two years ago. What was she doing here now? A shadow passed across the window and she narrowed her eyes against the glare.

  Kane was standing looking down at her, his expression serious, his eyes like dark green velvet showing only concern. Her bad arm was wrapped from shoulder to wrist as he took her good hand in his and said, ‘Don’t ever frighten me like that again.’

  A smile quivered along her mouth.

  ‘I would never have betrayed you.’

  ‘I know that now and I am here to apologise. May I sit down? I would like to explain.’

  She nodded her head, unable to believe that he was here. He pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down, taking her hand back into his. He began to talk softly, his eyes full of pain.

  ‘When I was young, my mother left me in the care of a bitter, old man who didn’t care about what I did or where I went. So I took what I wanted from life and gave nothing in return. I learned from him to seek only self gratification and care about no-one. Then my mother returned and for the first time I looked for some sort of . . .’

  He stumbled and Frances was sure it was because he couldn’t bring himself to
say the word love.

  ‘I looked for attention, but she brought with her strangers who already had her devotion. Pilar was a young wife at this point, newly-married to an older man, but it didn’t stop us having an affair. My newly-acquired stepsister was flirtatious and dangerously possessive. When she became pregnant, Pilar accused me. She was very jealous. When Isabella died later in mysterious circumstances, I came under suspicion and was sent away to Germany.

  ‘I’m afraid I find personal relationships difficult and it was the easy way out to believe Pilar when she reminded me how often I had seen you with Beckwith. She also showed me a fax to the Press, supposedly from you. She told me how much Firefly had cost you and I couldn’t come up with any other way you could have raised all that money on your own.’

  Sighing heavily, Frances turned her hand beneath his and threaded her fingers through his.

  ‘It took all my savings and some of Martin’s as well.’

  ‘After Gilbert’s unsuccessful call to you, he and Connie decided to put their heads together and came up with some questionable evidence that Pilar was behind the death of Isobella. The police are taking an interest at this moment. Pilar has gone to visit relatives in Brazil and I think she will take her time in coming back. Beckwith has vanished. So now I am able to ask you sincerely to forgive me.’

  ‘You are forgiven,’ Frances whispered with a smile.

  ‘Now what is all this business about racing with a damaged arm?’

  ‘We won,’ she said in defiance, a grin spreading across her face. He was nodding.

  ‘And you were wonderful. But you won’t be racing again, at least not professionally. You will be too busy helping me to run the ranch in Tenerife.’

  There was an awkward silence, broken only by the sounds of the hospital beyond the door. Frances chewed on her lower lip.

  ‘I’m afraid . . .’

  He leaned forward and kissed her gently.

  ‘I want you to marry me.’

  Her heart nearly stopped.

  ‘Marry you? But Firefly . . .’

  ‘I’m quite capable of taking care of Firefly,’ Martin said, as he and Tessa came into the room, bringing a sheepish Gilbert with them.

  ‘I tried to warn you but his lordship here decided it was better to make you wait,’ Tessa said, ‘and look what happened! You fainted with shock.’

  ‘She won,’ Martin argued.

  Tessa pushed him aside and draped herself over Frances, giving her a hug.

  ‘So can I be matron of honour?’

  Frances laughed and locked eyes with Kane.

  I love you, their glances said.

  ‘I’d love to have you as my matron of honour.’

  When they had gone some time later, Kane remained and taking her in his arms held her close.

  ‘About Juan Carlos,’ she said, ‘he has so much promise, Kane. Couldn’t you see your way clear to allow him to come back to the ranch?’

  ‘When you look at me like this I can deny you nothing but Gilbert has been before you and we shall see the boy’s rise to success together.’

  ‘Then my answer, which I haven’t given yet, will be, when do we fly home?’