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“It was hard for him . . .” Ian insisted.

“Dean has a lot of explaining to do.”

“Just don’t do anything rash,” Ian said.

An uneasy silence settled upon the room as Becca finished preparing the meal. Dean didn’t return, though Becca had set him a place at the table. The conversation was stilted at first as Ian explained about his plans for racing Gypsy Wind, including the proposed move to Sequoia Park. Slowly the tension in the conversation ebbed as dinner was served and then eaten. The three of them talked about the coming racing season and the stiff competition Gypsy Wind would have to face. Brig and Ian agreed that Gypsy Wind should be started as soon as the season opened, in order to establish a name for herself since she hadn’t raced as a two-year-old. They felt that the sooner she became familiar with race regimen, the better.

By the time Ian left, some of Becca’s misgivings had subsided. She promised to call Grace, Ian’s wife, for Martha’s address and telephone number. Although Ian soundly disapproved, he patted Becca firmly on the shoulder and told her to do what she thought best.

Brig’s suitcase stood by the stairs, reminding Becca that he was leaving her. She found it imposibble to think of a future without him, or of the empty days when he wouldn’t be by her side.

“I have to go,” he admitted, checking his watch and setting aside his coffee cup.

“I know.”

“I wish I could convince you to come with me.”

Her green eyes were filled with sadness. “I have to stay here with Gypsy Wind.”

They were sitting next to each other on the couch. His arm was draped lazily over her shoulders, his fingertips moving silently against her shoulder. “We could board Gypsy Wind at the Chambers Stables.”

Becca smiled and set her cup next to Brig’s. “I can’t move to Kentucky. I don’t fit in with the Eastern racing set . . . at least not anymore . . .” Her voice faded as she remembered a time when she felt at home anywhere—when the world was at her feet, before Sentimental Lady’s tragic death.

“I would be with you,” he stated softly as he moved her head to lay upon his shoulder. It felt so right.

She longed to say yes, to tell him that she would follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary, but she couldn’t. There was too much yet to be done, here at The Starlight Farm. “Nothing sounds better,” she admitted honestly. “But I think it would be best not to move Gypsy Wind until after the New Year when Ian plans to stable her at Sequoia.”

“I’d feel better if you were closer to me.”

“Then why not move the corporate offices of Chambers Oil out here,” she teased.

“Just like that?”

“Why not?”

“Be serious.”

“I am.”

“And I’m nearly foolish enough to take you up on your offer.”

“I’d love it if you would stay with me,” Becca confided, hoping beyond hope that they could find a way to be together. He kissed her gently on the forehead.

“I’ll work on it, if you promise to be careful.”

“I’m always careful . . .”

The hand over her shoulder tightened. His voice was low and threatening. “I don’t trust your brother.”

“You never have.”

“But I wasn’t convinced that he was dangerous before.”

Becca laughed at the severity of Brig’s features. He really believed what he was saying. “Dean might be a lot of things,” she allowed. “And I admit that I’ve called him more than a few myself, but he’s not dangerous. Irresponsible, wily, and maybe slightly underhanded, yes, but dangerous, never!”

“You’re taking this too lightly.”

“And you’re acting paranoid. Just because my brother shirked his responsibility toward Jackie doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s dangerous.”