If Wishes Were Horses by Carolyn McSparren

Author:Carolyn McSparren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

LIZ NEITHER SAW nor heard from Mike the next couple of days. He wasn’t out of town, so he must be avoiding her. Wasn’t that what she’d asked him to do?

Vic noticed how mopey she was, but Liz refused to discuss the party she’d been to with Mike, except to say that if she won that grand prix she was going to get the most expensive haircut she could find and then buy herself a dress—maybe two.

Vic tried to sound Mike out when she discussed the tack Pat needed to ride Traveller. He was back to his cold, unresponsive self. Eventually she gave up, ordered Pat’s things to be delivered to Mike’s office Friday morning and concentrated on keeping Liz from breaking her neck on Trust Fund.

The morning of Pat’s party dawned hazy. The September fogs were early this year, but the heat continued.

“We’ll probably have tornadoes for the Labor Day show,” Liz said, looking at the thick yellow haze on the horizon. “Just our luck.”

“The first cold front to break up this mess is going to be a corker,” Vic said, wiping the back of her neck. “At least the heat should keep Traveller from misbehaving. He won’t have the energy.” She tossed a shovelful of fresh shavings into Boop’s stall. The foal reared and pawed at her. Vic laughed. “Better knock off that stuff, Thug. It may be cute now, but we are not putting up with bad manners from a seventeen-hand two-year-old. Guess who will lose whose cojónes early?”

Melba Hannaford arrived at eleven, but not alone. Walter Simpson had driven her out in his Bronco. “Thought Melba might need a tad of help setting up all this stuff,” he said to Vic. “Besides, I didn’t have a dang thing better to do today.”

“Admit it, you wanted the free food,” Melba added with a touch of pride. “He’s got more than enough to do. He’s got the most wonderful workshop. And the wood? He’s better than any craftsman I’ve ever seen.”

“It was that or shoot myself,” Walter said. “Retirement sucks.” He whispered to Vic, “I’m building Pat a special saddle rack. Wanted to have it ready for her birthday, but Melba kept me busy doing other things. Still need to finish sanding and staining.”

Melba bristled. “I work full-time, Mr. Simpson. You’re retired. Not my fault if you’re incapable of organizing your time properly.”

Walter grinned at her. “Always did like feisty women.”

“Get over here and help me tote this stuff. That’s what you came for, isn’t it?” Melba sounded angry, but Vic could see that she was blushing.

“Is this a surprise party?” Walter asked as he carried in a large cardboard box bearing the logo of the finest baker in town.

“No way we could manage that,” Vic said. “The party’s not a surprise, but I think the presents may be. Can you manage? I need to get to the ring. The kids are practicing jumping small courses. The Labor Day show will be here before we know it.”

“How’s my grandnephew doing?” Walter asked.

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