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“None. The longer I stall, the more it seems as if we’re hiding something here.”
“Aye. I suppose it does,” Mac mumbled as he sauntered to the back door. “I’ll be in the broodmare barn if you need me.” He paused as his fingers gripped the doorknob, glanced back at Tiffany, and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “It looks like Alexander’s Lady’s time has come.”
Tiffany felt her heart fall to the floor. Alexander’s Lady was pregnant with Moon Shadow’s foal. Tiffany closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the table. Louise stopped working at the counter.
“Oh, Lord,” the large cook muttered, quickly making a sign of the cross over her ample bosom. Then, with a knowing eye in Tiffany’s direction, she smiled kindly. “This one will be all right, honey . . . I feel it in my bones.”
“I hope to God you’re right,” Tiffany whispered.
“It’s in His hands now, you know. Not much you can do ’bout it,” Mac advised with a scowl. “Worryin’ ain’t gonna help.”
Tiffany studied Mac’s wrinkled brow. “Then maybe you should take your own advice.”
“Naw—I’m too old and set in my ways to stop now. Anyway, worryin’s what I do best.” The trainer raised his hand in the air as a salute of goodbye and opened the door to the back porch, just as the doorbell chimed. Mac’s frown deepened. “Looks like your friend is here.”
Tiffany managed a thin smile. “Good. We may as well get this over with.”
“Good luck,” Louise muttered, once again hastily making the sign of the cross with her flour-dusted hands as Tiffany walked out of the kitchen.
“Tiffany! You look great,” Nancy said with heartfelt enthusiasm as Tiffany opened the door.
The slim, dark-haired woman with the bright hazel eyes appeared no different than she had six years ago. Dressed in navy-blue slacks and a crisp red blouse and white jacket, Nancy looked the picture of efficiency. Short dark-brown curls framed a pixie-like face filled with freckles and smiles.
“It’s good to see you, Nance. Come in.” Tiffany’s grin was genuine as she hugged her friend. It had been years since she’d seen Nancy. Too many years. The two women had parted ways right after college. Tiffany’s father had died, and Nancy had moved to Oregon to marry her high school boyfriend.
“And what a beautiful house,” Nancy continued, her expressive hazel eyes roving over the sweeping green hills surrounding the white-clapboard and brick home. “This is something right out ofGone with the Wind!”
“Not quite, I don’t think.”
“All you need is a couple of mint juleps, a porch swing and—”
“Rhett Butler.”
Nancy laughed. “I suppose you’re right. But, God, Tiff, this isfabulous!”
“The house was Ellery’s idea,” Tiffany admitted as Nancy’s eager eyes traveled up the polished oak banister and marble stairs to linger on the crystal chandelier. “He thought the farm would appear more genuine if it had a Southern atmosphere.”
“This is beyond atmosphere, Tiffany, this is flair!”
Tiffany blushed a little under Nancy’s heartfelt praise. She’d forgotten what it was like to be around the exuberant woman. Though Nancy had to be thirty, she didn’t look a day over twenty-five, and part of her youthful appearance was due to her enthusiasm for life.
Tiffany showed Nancy the house and grounds of the farm. “This is heaven,” Nancy insisted as she leaned against a redwood tree and watched the foals romp in the late-morning sun.
“I like it.”
“Who wouldn’t? Let me tell you, I’d give an arm and a leg to live in a place like this.”
Tiffany laughed. “And what would you do? You’re a city girl by nature, Nance.”
Nancy nodded in agreement. “I suppose you’re right.”
“You’d miss San Francisco within the week.”
“Maybe so, but sometimes sharing a two-bedroom apartment with two kids and a cat can drive me up the wall. The girls are five and four, and you wouldn’t believe how much energy they have.”
“They probably get it from their mother. Genetics, you know.”
“Right. Genetics. The reason I’m here.”
