The Fake Husband by Lynnette Kent

Author:Lynnette Kent [Kent, Lynnette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2012-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

ON FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH, Rhys and Terry stood by the jumping ring as Andrew took Imperator around the course.

“He’s better,” the Irishman said. “But not right.”

“No.” Rhys shook his head. “There’s a lack of confidence and an unpredictability that worries me. With Andrew, and with Jacquie.”

“We’ve got three weeks before the schooling day. You could be riding him by then.”

“Could be.” An admission of defeat, and they both knew it.

“Who, then?”

Andrew brought the horse to a stop in front of them before Rhys could answer. “That was a good round, right? He’s feeling better all the time.”

“It was a good round.” Rhys put up a hand to rub Imperator’s cheek. “You’ve done well by him, son. He’s responding to you more every day.”

Under the helmet brim, Andrew’s eyes were bright. “Let me try him cross-country, then. I’ll start on the easy jumps, and I know he’ll do it for me. Please, Dad? It’s time.”

Rhys was tempted—Jacquie had made progress with Imp, and the horse might, indeed, jump for Andrew. He had it in his power to earn his son’s gratitude—his love?—with one word.

As long as he didn’t mind risking the boy’s life, or his physical well-being. In an instant, Rhys was back in the hospital bed, lying flat on his back, unable to move his legs or even relieve himself without help. Despite the brisk wind and the bright sunshine, he felt as if he were suffocating.

“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re ready for the solid jumps yet.”

Andrew stared at him with his mouth open for a few seconds. “When?” he demanded. “What do I have to do to prove I can take this horse anywhere he wants to go?”

Rhys rubbed his hand over his face. “More experience. More horses. More time.”

“Right.” Andrew slid down from the horse’s back and stepped close. There was only a head’s difference in their heights, now. “Or am I just supposed to wait until you get your nerve back? Is that it? You don’t want me showing you up, so you’re not going to give me the chance to ride him at all. Afraid you’ll be replaced, Dad?”

“Watch your tongue.” Terry put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “Treat your dad with the respect he deserves.”

“Respect?” Andrew snorted. “He didn’t want me to begin with, got rid of me—and his wife—as soon as he could, then ignored me for years until she gave him no choice but to take me back. And now he’s covering his own ass by making sure I don’t get the chance to succeed. What’s to respect?”

Rhys stood without moving as Andrew turned on his heel and led Imperator back to the stable. Terry shook his head. “Forget that temper tantrum. You’re right, and we both know it. The boy isn’t ready to take those jumps, no matter what he thinks. He’ll get over this.”

“Maybe.” He hunched his shoulders, tried to work some of the stiffness out of his neck. “Or maybe he’s right. Maybe I just don’t want to admit I’m finished.

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