“I suppose I should thank you,” she said. “Or maybe you should thank me for taking him off your hands.”
“No thanks necessary,” Hayden said. “But now that he’s yours, there’s something you need to hear. If I’d known about it, I would never have offered you the horse.”
His tone startled her. She glanced up at him, her instincts braced. “Tell me,” she said.
He swallowed. “A man was found dead this morning—in Fire Dance’s stall. The Clark County sheriff has taken charge. He’ll probably order your horse put down.”
“A man? Who was he?” The floor seemed to be buckling under her feet.
“His name was Darrin Culhane—a neighbor of yours, I take it.”
“Frank Culhane’s son?” The news—and the name—hit her like a shotgun blast. “What was he doing in the stall?”
“Evidently, he was looking for a phone his wife had thrown over the gate. Neither of them knew the horse was dangerous.”
“Then it wasn’t Fire Dance’s fault! He was scared. He was just protecting himself.”
“We don’t know that, Cheyenne. All we know for sure is that the horse is a killer.”
“I’ve got to get down there!” Still clutching the envelope with the ownership papers, she flung open the door, grabbed Hayden’s arm, and pulled him out into the hall—where Buck, carrying a canvas duffel, was just coming out of his room.
Buck tried not to look dismayed when he saw Cheyenne come out of her room with Hayden. He’d hoped she might have better judgment, but there was no accounting for a woman’s taste.
He knew better than to hope she might have chosen him. But the thought of her with Hayden, responding despite the secret she’d shared, sharpened the ache in his throat. Maybe she reminded him of the innocent sister he’d failed to guard. But no, Buck knew better. His feelings for Cheyenne were anything but brotherly.
He was about to give the pair a polite nod and head for the elevator when he noticed her desperate look and the glint of tears in her eyes. His protective instincts surged.If the bastard had hurt her, so help him…
“Are you all right, Cheyenne?” he asked.
“Not really. I could use your advice if you’ve got a minute to listen.”
Buck lowered his duffel to the floor. As Cheyenne poured out her story, his anger seethed. Hayden had used her compassion to rid himself of any liability for damages and expense caused by the stallion.
Hayden Barr was everything Buck had judged him to be, maybe worse.
“Of all the dirty, underhanded—” He’d meant the words for Hayden, but he spoke them to thin air. Hayden was gone.
“Does your brother know about this?” he asked her.
“Probably. But he’s getting ready for the Run for a Million tomorrow night. I don’t want to distract him.” Her sigh was almost a sob. “Buck, I don’t want to kill that beautiful horse. Can you take a look at him and help me decide what to do?”
“You already know what I’d recommend,” Buck said. “The horse is miserable—and he’s dangerous.”
“Please. We may already be too late.” The heartbreak in her velvety eyes would have broken the will of any man.
Buck opened the door of his room, tossed the duffel inside, and closed the door again. “Come on,” he said. “I’lllook at him, but he’s your horse. The final decision will have to be yours.”
Dressed in a faded hospital gown, Simone huddled in the bed like a child awakened from a nightmare. Her blond curls clung to her tear-blotched face. A fist-sized bruise purpled the left side of her jaw. She was able to talk, but the story she’d told Sam was so strange that he was tempted to dismiss it.
“You say you killed your husband, Simone. Why do you say that?”
“Don’t you understand? I threw his phone into the horse stall. I thought I was saving him from a foolish mistake—Darrin wasn’t really smart, you know, even if he was a lawyer. He was going to call this man who claimed to be his brother. I could tell it was a scam—or worse. If Darrin had met with the man, he could’ve been blackmailed or even robbed and killed.”
“And you heard their conversation in your hotel room?”
“Through the bathroom door—and only Darrin’s side of the call. But that was enough.” She choked back a sob. “If only I’d stopped him then, he’d still be alive. But no, I was curious. I had to follow him.”
“And when did he tell you the man was claiming to be his brother? Did you hear that on the phone?”