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“Last night—at the party.” The skin on Denver’s face had drawn tight. “She say anything to you?”
“No.”
“Strange, isn’t it?”
Colton’s lungs constricted. Oh, Cassie—oh, love! Why hadn’t she told him?
As if reading Colton’s thoughts, Denver sighed. Some of the anger left his face. “If it’s any consolation, I think she’s protecting someone—maybe Monroe, maybe her father. They’re pretty tight these days. Let’s go see what she has to say.”
“And Monroe?”
“I’ve already called the sheriff’s office. A deputy’s on his way to the Monroe place right now. And there’s a quarantine on his horses.”
“I think I’d better handle this myself.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Not this time!”
“But—”
“Denver!” Tessa’s voice cried out through the early dawn. Colton turned to see her grab hold of a post supporting the porch while her other arm wrapped around her stomach, and she bent over, wincing.
“What—?” Denver spun on his heel, his face draining of color.
“The baby,” she cried, forcing a brave smile, though her face was twisted in pain.
“But it’s not time!” He was racing across the yard and up the steps in long strides. When he reached the porch, he surrounded her with his arms. “I knew we shouldn’t have gone to that party,” he grumbled. “Are you all right?”
She forced a brave smile, but another contraction hit her full force, and she clung to her husband, eyes squeezing shut, her mouth pressed into his chest to muffle her cry.
Colton saw fear on Denver’s face and felt a pang of his own. Tessa’s baby wasn’t due for another six weeks. “I’ll drive you to the hospital,” he said, but Denver was already shepherding Tessa toward his car.
“I’ll handle this! Come on, Tessa . . .” His jaw was rigid as he helped her into the car, then climbed behind the wheel and took off.
Colton stood in the middle of the yard for a second, then climbed back into his Jeep. Bone-tired, he let out the clutch. Why hadn’t Cassie told him about the strangles at the Monroe ranch? Why had she wanted so desperately to deny that Sylvia’s raven black colt was sired by Black Magic? To protect her father? Somehow Ivan was involved, and Cassie cared so little about Colton that she couldn’t confide in him. His boot pressed hard against the throttle.
* * *
Cassie didn’t sleep a wink, but watched as dawn turned the sky gray and she heard her father in the kitchen below. She listened as Erasmus barked to be let out and watched through the window as her father, his shoulders stooped, made his way to the broodmare barn.
With a heavy heart she climbed out of the bed, showered, stepped into faded jeans and brushed her hair into a sleek ponytail. “It’s now or never,” she told her reflection, and she steeled herself for what was to come.
&n
bsp; In the kitchen she poured herself a cup of coffee and waited at the table. She heard her father’s heavy step on the back porch, and her heart turned over.
Her cup of coffee, untouched, was cradled between her hands, as if to give her warmth as he walked in. From the stoop of his shoulders and the lines near his eyes, she guessed he’d slept no better than she.
“’Mornin’, Cassie,” he muttered, not bothering to remove his hat or boots. “There’s something I think we should talk about.”
The lump in her throat swelled. “Does it have to do with the new foal?”
“What d’ya mean?”
Her fingers shook as she opened her veterinary bag and withdrew two purple vials of blood. “These,” she replied, her voice the barest of whispers. “One of them is from the new colt, the other from Devil Dancer.”
Her father sucked in his breath. “I see.”
