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“What else have you got on that computer?” Zane asked, studying the list of owners.
“Everything.”
“Like what?”
“Health records on the horses, the price of feed, the stud fees we charged, equipment. Everything.”
“Including a profile of your Thoroughbreds?”
“Every horse that’s been a part of the farm.”
“Can you get me a printout on Moon Shadow?”
She managed a tight smile. “Sure.”
“How about the mares he was bred to, especially the four that lost their foals?”
Tiffany sat down at the keyboard. “This has already been done, you know.”
“Humor me. I need something to do while you’re tied up with the phone. I may as well be doing something constructive since I canceled my flight.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Tiffany requested the information from the computer, and when the printer started spewing out profiles of the horses in question, Tiffany started with the first of what promised to be several uncomfortable telephone calls to the owners of mares bred to Moon Shadow.
Chapter Seven
“Here, drink some of this,” Zane suggested. He handed Tiffany a glass of white wine. “Maybe it will improve your appetite.”
“And my disposition?” She accepted the glass and took a sip of the white Burgundy. The cool liquid slid easily down her throat, and she eyed her plate of forgotten food with a sigh.
“They really got to you, didn’t they?” Zane asked as he leaned back in his chair and frowned into his glass. He had finished Louise’s dinner of roast beef, parslied potatoes and steamed broccoli before noticing Tiffany’s neglected plate.
“Let’s just say I’m glad it’s over,” she replied and then amended her statement, “or I hope to God it is.”
What if any of the unborn foals were to die shortly after birth? What would happen to her and the farm? The telephone conversations with the owners who had mares bred to Moon Shadow hadn’t gone well at all. By the time she had contacted or left messages with all the owners, Tiffany had felt as if every nerve in her body had been stretched as tightly as a piano wire. During two of the more difficult calls, she had been threatened with lawsuits, should the foals be born with life-threatening heart problems.
She couldn’t begin to do justice to Louise’s delicious meal. With a weary shake of her head, she pushed her plate aside, leaned back in the chair and ran tense fingers through her hair.
Zane offered her a sad, understanding smile. “Come on, the dishes will wait. Let’s finish this—” he held up the opened bottle of wine “—and relax in the study.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Come on, buck up.” He got up from the table and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Things are bound to get better.”
“That’s a strange statement, coming from you,” she stated. He shrugged his broad shoulders and his smile faded. “But I guess you’re right,” she continued, slapping the table with new resolve. “Things can’t get much worse.”Unless another foal dies.
The den seemed warm and intimate. The glowing embers of the fire and the muted illumination from a single brass lamp with an emerald-colored shade softened the corners of the room and reflected on the finish of the cherry-wood walls. The thick Oriental carpet in hues of green and ivory, the etchings of sleek horses adorning the walls and the massive stone fireplace offered a sense of privacy to the room.
Zane stoked the smoldering coals in the fireplace.As if he’d done it a hundred times. Here. In her home.His actions seemed so natural, as if he were an integral part of the farm. As he knelt before the fire, he lifted a chunk of oak from the large basket sitting on the warm stones of the hearth. “This should do it,” he mumbled to himself as he placed the mossy log on the scarlet embers. Eager flames began to lick the new fuel and reflect in golden shadows on Zane’s angular face. His shirt was stretched over his back, and Tiffany watched his fluid movements as he worked. When the fire was to his satisfaction, he dusted his hands together and studied the ravenous flames.
As she sipped her wine and observed him, Tiffany felt the long dormant stirring of feminine desire. Urges that were better denied began to burn in her mind.I won’t let myself fall for him,she promised but knew that her efforts would prove futile. He was already an integral part of her life. Ever since last night, when he had bent over the lifeless foal and tried to force air into the still lungs, Zane Sheridan had become a part of Rhodes Breeding Farm. Whether she liked it or not.
She dragged her eyes away from his strong physique and concentrated on the clear liquid in her wineglass. “Don’t you have some place you have to be?” she asked.
The lean frame stiffened. He hesitated for just a moment before turning to face her. “Later.”
“Tonight?” she asked in attempted nonchalance. Her tongue caught on the solitary word.
He nodded curtly. “I’ve got some early appointments in San Francisco tomorrow.” He noticed the slight tensing in her shoulders.Damn her, that strong will and pride will be her downfall . . . or mine.“Things I can’t put off any longer.” He finished his wine and stared at her. “Is that a hint?”
