“Wasn’t it? I was there. I was alone with him, in his hotel room. Isn’t it always the woman’s fault?” Cheyenne turned away from him, suddenly cautious. Had she said too much?
“I can imagine what you’re thinking,” he said. “You’ve trusted me with something very personal. I promise to honor that. Your secret will be safe with me.”
“Thanks.” She arranged her face into a smile. “I’m still wondering whether I just made a fool of myself.”
“Hear this, Cheyenne,” he said. “I had a sister, a bit younger than you. She’s gone now. That’s a story for another time. But I wish I’d told her what I’m telling you now. Someday you’ll meet the person who’ll make everything all right, and you’ll know it was worth the wait. He won’t be some down-at-the-heels cowboy like me. He’ll be worthy of you. And when it happens, maybe in your head, you’ll hear me saying,I told you so.Remember that, all right?”
“All right.” There were tears in Cheyenne’s voice. She battled the urge to fling herself into his arms again, if only for comfort. But that wasn’t going to happen.
The tension was broken by a voice calling her name. Hayden was striding down the row of stalls toward them.
“Hey, there you are, pretty lady.” Hayden reached her side. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back to the party.”
He’d been drinking when she left, but he appeared sober enough now. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me to come back,” she said. “You seemed to be having a great time without me.”
“Hey, it was my party. I owed it to the presenters to kick up my heels. But I missed you enough to leave and come looking for you. How long does it take to check on a couple of horses, anyway? I’d begun to wonder if you had company.”
Cheyenne was grateful for the dim light, which hid the rush of heat to her face. “I did. Buck was here. I was asking him about Fire Dance.”
“Well, I don’t see him now. Maybe he’s off licking his wounds. I finally beat him, Cheyenne, fair and square!”
Cheyenne glanced around. Buck had indeed made a discreet exit.
“About Fire Dance,” she said, “he’s your horse, Hayden. He won’t be allowed to stay here past the weekend. You’ve got to decide what to do with him.”
Frowning, Hayden gazed toward the stall, where Fire Dance had finally settled into silence. “What would you do if he was your horse?” he asked Cheyenne. “Would you try to load him and haul him home or save yourself the trouble and put him down right here?”
The question triggered a chill. “That isn’t my decision,” Cheyenne said. “He’s a beautiful horse, and he doesn’t deserve what happened to him. If there’s any way to save him—”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“But I did. I said it wasn’t my decision. So what will you do with him?”
Hayden’s expression hardened. “It’s a no-brainer. That damned hundred-thousand-dollar horse is worthless the way he is. And even if he can eventually be handled, he’ll never compete again. When I get home, I’ll have my father’s funeral to arrange and a ranch to take over, to say nothing of the legal issues I’ll be dealing with. I won’t have time to waste on a useless horse. Tomorrow I’ll arrange with the vet to put him out of his misery.”
“No! What if he can still be saved? What if he just needs time, and maybe some therapy?”
“I won’t have time or patience—or money to pay some so-called horse whisperer to work with him. The vet here is paid by the arena. He’ll euthanize the horse for free and call somebody to haul away the carcass.”
“But that would be such a waste,” Cheyenne argued. “And to do it before you even know what’s wrong with him—”
Hayden cut her off with an impatient gesture. “You say you want to save the damned horse? Fine. Have it your way. Fire Dance is yours. I’ll have my lawyer fax his pedigree and ownership papers, dated from tonight, to the hotel in the morning. You can do whatever the hell you want with him. Just leave me out of it.”
Cheyenne stared at him. “You’re joking. You can’t just give him to me.”
“I certainly can. And if you don’t accept him, he’ll be euthanized tomorrow. It’s your choice. Make it now.”
“But what would I do with him? How would I even get him home? He can’t ride back in the trailer with One in a Million.”
“That, sweetheart, is your problem. If you can’t figure out what to do, you can always have him put down—but it’ll be your decision, not mine.”
Cheyenne glared up at his sardonic grin. She was trapped, and Hayden was enjoying his victory. His gift, which she couldn’t refuse without sentencing Fire Dance to death, had relieved him of all responsibility.
Hayden raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you could get your friend, Buck, to help you. He’s supposed to be some kind of horse whisperer. And I’ve seen how he looks at you. I’ll bet he’d do anything for you, even take on a crazy, killer horse. Go ahead and ask him. I won’t be jealous. If I can beat him in the arena, I can for sure keep him from stealing my girl.”
“I’m not your girl, Hayden. I’m nobody’s girl except my own.”
“That’s not what you say to a man who just gave you a stallion with a pedigree as long as your arm.” He chuckled. It appeared he was drunker than Cheyenne had first thought. Maybe in the morning, when he’d sobered up, he would change his mind about giving her Fire Dance. But she’d made up her mind about one thing. She couldn’t turn her back and let him kill that beautiful horse.