“Well, you can’t now. Forget it, how much time do you need to get him ready?” I ask.
Barry and Randy exchange glances and nod in agreement. “Think he’s ready.”
Nelson glances around the dark open field. “Randy, you sure about this?” he asks.
Randy sighs. “You want to watch Dallas suffer another season because of this? For Blue River to become second rate because of lost business?”
“You know we don’t,” Barry answers.
Randy turns to me. “You?”
“Of course not.”
He scans me. “You comin’ tonight? Watch us make a name for this place?”
I swallow, my heart pounding.
Nelson touches my shoulder. “He’d never do it,” he says softly, and I know he’s referring to Wilder. “But we can do it for him.”
“No.” I glance back. “I’m not coming. But I can stand guard.”
Randy smiles, but there’s nothing pleasant about it. “Atta girl.”
I run a hand gently down Tuscan’s mane. He’s Wilder’s horse. And Nelson’s right. Wilder will never compete. Not at Callahan’s anyway. So we will.
I turn on my heel and scurry toward the metal gate. It’s dark except for the faint glow of a lantern near the stalls, just enough light for the guys to work without drawing attention. My pulse pounds as I stand by the wide-open gate, arms practically shaking.
With excitement? Anticipation?
Fear?
I listen carefully for any sound beyond the rustle behind me. I wish I could see what they’re doing. And why do they need to be so loud?
“Keep it down,” I hiss over my shoulder.
“Relax, we’ll be in and out,” Randy whispers back. A saddle creaks. Hoofbeats shuffle.
My stomach tightens.
I hear another set of boots. Not coming from the stables. Butfrom just around the side.
DearGodletthisbesomeoneelseRandyenlistedtohelptonight.
A tall, shadowed figure steps into the dim light.
My breath catches. Not at the proximity of the massive body in front of me.
But the face glaring back at me. “Wilder,” I breathe.
He’s ridged, all sharp edges and contained fury.
“What are you doing here so late?” I ask in one breath.
The very last I have left.
He lifts a brow, his expression not an ounce softer. That gaze cutting right through me.
It’s now that I realize we never decided on a warning word or sound.
