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Tiffany watched the car disappear down the tree-lined drive, but her mind was miles away. Nancy’s visit had only increased her restlessness. Where was Zane and why hadn’t he called?
* * *
Hours later, Tiffany was walking back from the half-mile track near the old barn when she heard a familiar voice.
“Tiffany!”
A tall man wearing a Stetson was running toward her. Tiffany shielded her eyes from the ever-lowering sun and smiled when she recognized her brother-in-law.
“Dustin!” She hadn’t expected him back for another week.
“Hello, stranger,” he said as he reached her and gathered her into his arms to twirl her off the ground. How had she ever doubted him? “What’s this I hear about you getting some bad press, little lady?”
“Some?” Tiffany repeated with a shake of her head. “How about truckloads of it.”
“You can’t be serious.” He flashed her a brilliant smile.
“Four of Moon Shadow’s foals have died—all from heart failure.”
Dustin lifted his hat, pushed a lock of brown hair out of his eyes and squinted into the setting sun toward the exercise track, where Mac was still working with a yearling. “So I read.”
“You and the rest of the world.” Tiffany pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Her conversation with Zane came hauntingly back to her, and she wondered just how much she could confide in Dustin. He did own twenty-five percent of the farm and was entitled to know everything that was going on . . . well, almost everything. “I have owners who are threatening me with lawsuits if the mares they bred to Moon Shadow drop foals that die.”
“How many mares are involved?” Dustin’s hand reached out and took hold of her arm. They had been walking toward the old barn where Tiffany had been headed. Near the building, Dustin stopped her.
“About twelve,” she said. “Some of them took the news fairly well. The others, well . . . they weren’t so understanding.”
“In other words they’re ready to rip your throat out.”
“Close enough.”
“Damn!” Dustin let out an angry blast. “This is the last thing we need right now. Okay, so what about the mares that have already foaled?”
“The foals that eventually died were from our mares. So far, every mare bred to Moon Shadow from another farm has dropped a healthy colt or filly.”
“So much for small favors.”
“I guess we should consider ourselves lucky that this isn’t a contagious virus,” she said.
“You’re sure?” Dustin didn’t sound convinced.
“Um-hm. Vance checked everything carefully. At first he thought it might be sleepy foal disease, but fortunately it wasn’t.”
“Yeah, fortunately,” Dustin muttered sarcastically. Tiffany pushed open the door to the old barn and checked the supply of grain stacked in sacks in the bins. The interior was musty and dark, the only light filtering through the small window on the south side of the building and the open door. Dustin leaned against a post supporting the hayloft and watched her make notes in a small notebook.
Once she had finished counting and was satisfied that the inventory of feed was about what it should be, she started back toward the door.
Dustin’s hand on her arm stopped her. His topaz-colored eyes pierced into hers. “So what happened to those foals?”
Tiffany shook her head and her honey-brown tresses glowed in the shadowy light from the windows. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“What does Vance say?”
“Nothing good, at least not yet.”
He leaned against the post, shoved the hat back on his head so he could see her more clearly and drew Tiffany into the circle of his arms. His voice was low with concern, his gold eyes trained on her lips. The intimate embrace made Tiffany uncomfortable. All Zane’s accusations concerning Dustin began to haunt her. Maybe she should ask him flat out about the circumstances surrounding Devil’s Gambit’s death, but she hesitated. There was just enough of the truth woven into Zane’s story to give her pause.
Dustin read the worry on her features. “Do you think there’s a possibility that Moon Shadow’s to blame for the deaths?”
