Page 25

The team dinner that night was a celebration of sorts, though Clay didn’t show up and much of the conversation seemed stilted, the laughter a little too brittle.

Clay’s absence seemed a reminder of the ill feelings among the team members that hadn’t been resolved.

The party broke up early, the riders tired from the grueling competition, and there they needed to be ready to leave for Dublin on Tuesday.

Jake remined in the hotel pub, warming a snifter of brandy between his palms.

He sat in the corner of the nearly deserved room, thinking about the instructions he would receive in Dublin.

“May I join you?”

Jake glanced up to see Maggie standing in front of him, her tone carefully business-like.

His brooding mood lightened, and he smiled warmly.

“There’s nothing in this world I’d like better.”

Since the Soviets knew about the two of them, staying away from her would do nothing to protect her.

On the other hand, if he was forced to do something criminal, he didn’t want Maggie associated with the deed.

But a brief conversation, a bit of her warmth now and then, he’d allow himself.

“You look beautiful tonight,”

he said as she sat down beside him.

Maggie smiled.

“Thank you.”

Thick overhead beams and a fireplace at one end gave the pub the charm of the English countryside surrounding them.

“Everything lined up for Dublin?”

Jake asked.

“Everything’s ready except the team.

That’s what I came to talk to you about.”

“I’m worried about them, too.

They rode well today, but Ellie and Clay are barely speaking.

Flex and Clay aren’t speaking at all.

Sooner or later the strain is bound to cause problems.”

“This is all Clay’s fault,”

Maggie said.

“Ellie is too trusting, and Clay took advantage.

I really didn’t think he was that kind of man, no matter his reputation.”

“I’m not completely convinced he is.

He hasn’t been himself since he came back from Monaco.

Oh, he’s riding well.

Too well. He has little interest in anything else. The solitude isn’t like him.”

“I noticed.

And Flex feels guilty.

He and Clay have been friends for years.”

“At least Ellie’s kept this from destroying her momentum.

She’s riding better than ever.

I knew she had guts.”

“She’s competing in the Grand Prix in Dublin.

I hope she’s up to it.

Working so close to Clay is bound to be tough on her.”

Jake just nodded.

“I wish there was a way to draw the team together again.

Maybe I could convince Clay to talk to Ellie.

Explain why things didn’t work out. Maybe even apologize.”

“How do you apologize for breaking someone’s heart?”

Jake’s gaze ran over her beautiful face.

“I love you, Maggie,”

he said softly.

Maggie touched his cheek and Jake leaned into her hand.

“I love you, too.”

Jake straightened away from her.

“You’d better go now.”

He gave her a last warm smile.

“I’ll see you back at the hotel.”

Maggie rose from her chair, feeling a trickle of alarm.

Why Jake’s sudden change of mood? More and more uneasy, she headed for the door.

All the way up to her room, she wondered what had changed.

The warm smiles, no glancing over his shoulder, no entreaties for her to leave. The worry lines on his forehead seemed a little less evident tonight. His voice betrayed a note of resignation that hadn’t been there before.

Her alarm blossomed into full-fledged fear.

There was only one reason Jake would behave as he had.

He had made up his mind to do what the Soviets asked.

They must have found out about her, threatened to hurt her, maybe threatened both her and Sarah.

Jake was doing whatever he had to in order to protect them.

And Maggie Delaine had to stop him.

After the team supper, Ellie left the restaurant, went up to her room and straight to bed.

The hotel was old and quaint, the bathroom not completely modern, but the bed was comfortable, the cracks in the ceiling now familiar.

She’d spent hours just lying there, tracing those lines, counting them, imagining the patterns they formed, trying to sort through her thoughts about Clay.

Mostly trying to bury them.

So far, her efforts had been futile.

Ellie sighed and closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Not for hours, not even after all the champagne she’d drunk at dinner.

Clay hadn’t shown up, as she could have predicted.

She had tried not to watch for him, but the effort was exhausting.

She would have been miserable if he’d come to the dinner and ignored her or arrived with another woman.

But she’d been just as miserable without him.

Ellie listened to the rhythmic tick of the old-fashioned alarm clock on the bedside table and forced her thoughts in another direction equally disturbing.

She kept seeing Shep Singleton’s battered face, his swollen lips and black eyes.

Was the assault just coincidence? Just another tourist mugging? Or was there a connection to the other mishaps that had occurred?

When she’d mentioned her concern to Jake, he’d brushed her worry aside.

“These things happen, Ellie.

We’re traveling through foreign counties.

Shep should have been more careful.”

“You don’t think it could be connected to what happened to me?”

“It seems highly unlikely.”

But he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

It wasn’t like Jake to be so evasive.

Though he’d always been a private person, he was usually forthright to a fault.

Thank heavens, they’d be leaving for the States right after the Dublin show.

She’d be going home, putting all this behind her, returning to her familiar apartment above the garage of her parent’s house.

They’d had a few brief conversations, but she was busy and so were they, and it was hard to keep secrets from them.

She wasn’t ready to talk about Clay, and she’d promised Jake she wouldn’t discuss the mishaps that had befallen the team.

Ellie heard a light rap at her door and came to her feet.

Dressed in a yellow nylon nightgown, she grabbed a robe and slipped her arms into the sleeves, lifting her heavy mass of hair away at the same time.

“Who is it?”

she asked, suddenly nervous as she thought of the man who had attacked her.

“It’s Prissy.

I saw your light beneath the door.

Can I come in for a minute?”

Ellie slid the chain off with the grating sound of metal against metal and unlocked the bolt. “Hi.”

Prissy came in, also wearing a robe, hers a thick blue terry.

“I guess you couldn’t sleep, either.”

Ellie smiled wanly.

“I’ve had a tough time all week.”

“I kind of figured that.”

They both sat down on the bed.

“Is something wrong?”

Ellie asked, noticing Prissy’s troubled expression.

“Wrong? Yeah, something’s wrong, but not with me.

That’s what I came to talk to you about.

There’s something wrong with Clay.”

“Clay?”

Ellie’s fingers bit into the folds of her robe.

Prissy released a slow breath.

“This is hard for me, Ellie.

Clay made me promise not to tell you, so what I’m doing now is breaking my word.”

She sighed.

“I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic...”

“What is it? What’s wrong with Clay?”

Prissy fiddled with the sash on her robe.

“You’ll have to talk to Clay about this in person.

I shouldn’t be telling you at all but....

All I’m going to say is that Clay feels he betrayed you. When he left you that morning at Claridge’s...well, apparently, he did some things he’s ashamed of. He mentioned something about drugs and...I won’t lie to you, Ellie, there were other women involved.”

“More than one?”

“I don’t know.

He just said women.”

She bit back the sound that tried to escape her throat.

“Clay can’t forgive himself.

He believes you deserve someone better.

That’s why he hasn’t called you.

He can’t face you. More than that, he’s trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? Protect me from what?”

“From himself.

From the kind of person he believes he is.”

Ellie just stared, trying to digest the things Prissy was saying.

The image of Clay in the arms of the woman at Claridge’s flashed through her mind.

Her eyes closed against a wave of remembered pain.

Everything she had imagined was true. Everything and more.

“How could he?”

Her voice whispered out, little more than a breath of air in the quiet room.

“When we were together, it seemed so beautiful...so special.

I felt cherished.

I thought he cared about me. How could I have been so wrong?”

“I’m not sure you are.

That’s why I came to talk to you.”

Ellie looked up at Prissy, beginning to get angry.

“How could he do it? How could he do a thing like that?”

“That’s the question Clay keeps asking himself.

He’s sick about it, Ellie.

Sick inside.

I’ve never seen a man sorrier about what’s happened than Clay.”

“I don’t believe it.

He isn’t sorry at all.

He did just what he told me he would do.

There’s no reason for him to be sorry.”

“Ellie, please try to think this through.”

“I’ve already thought it through.

I’ve thought about nothing but Clayton Whitfield for hours.

Days.

Every time I think of him, I see him in the arms of that...that...woman! He’s just as big a bastard as everyone says he is.”

She jumped up from the bed and started pacing.

“And to think I apologized to him! ”

Prissy stood up, blocking the path Ellie was carving into the carpet.

“I didn’t come here to upset you.

I thought there might be a chance you’d understand.

All I can tell you is that Clay regrets everything that’s happened. He won’t tell you because he thinks you’re better off without him. I believe he cares for you very much and that he’s learned something from what he’s done. Whatever happens from here on out is up to you.”

“I hate him.”

Her face felt hot, her shoulders tense.

Prissy moved toward the door.

“I guess he knew you better than I thought,”

she said softly.

Ellie glanced up at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Clay said you could never forgive him.”

With a last glance at Ellie, Prissy walked out and closed the door.

The trip to Dublin on Tuesday went smoothly.

The horses were taken to the stables and settled in their stalls while Jake and the riders were driven to their hotel, the Lansdowne on Pembroke Road in Ballsbridge, not far from the show grounds.

All except Clay, who had taken a suite at the Shelbourne on St.

Stephen’s Green.

Renovated to its former elegance, the Shelbourne was the finest hotel in Dublin.

Jake wasn’t surprised at Clay’s decision to stay there but he’d hoped to dissuade him, end the feuding between the riders, and make them once more a team.

“You know I don’t approve of what went on between you and Ellie,”

Jake said to Clay as he worked to settle Max and Zodiak into their new stalls.

“Given her lack of experience, I think it was a lousy thing to do.

But Ellie’s a grown woman, and I’ve got no business interfering in her personal life.”

Clay didn’t answer.

“On the other hand, the team is my business, and I’m worried about what’s happening.

Why don’t you take a room with the rest of us over at the Lansdowne? Give things a chance to get back to normal.”

“I always go first class,”

Clay said.

“You ought to know that by now.”

“That isn’t the reason and we both know it.

It’s because of Ellie and Flex.

I’ve never known you to run from a problem, Clay.

Won’t you talk to them, at least try to work things out?”

“Flex and I have agreed to disagree.

Ellie is riding better than she ever has.

I don’t see the problem.”

Jake just sighed and shook his head.

“Well, if you can’t see it, far be it from me to point it out.

You do what you have to, Clay.

But remember, these are the same riders you’ll be traveling with to Seoul. You need to settle things before the Olympics.”

Clay scratched Max between the ears and the stallion nickered softly.

“I’ll give it some thought, Jake.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Jake started to leave, then turned back.

“And, Clay, remember one thing.

These people are your friends.”

Absently, Clay ran his fingers along his jaw.

The bruise from Flex’s punch had faded, but apparently not the memory.

“I know,” he said.

Jake nodded.

“By the way, what do you think about what happened to Shep?”

“I think he ought to be more careful who he tries to pick up,”

Jake said.

“You’re saying his beating had no connection to what happened to Ellie? Nothing to do with the team?”

“I don’t see how playing cat and mouse with the wrong sex partners could possibly be interpreted as a threat to the team.”

“What do the authorities say? Those undercover security people you called from Paris?”

Jake’s insides tightened.

“They said the same thing.

Shep got in over his head.”

“You wouldn’t mind if I had a talk with them, would you?”

Jake’s worry kicked up.

“Look, Whitfield, if you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“All right, Jake, I will.

I don’t think you ever notified the authorities and I want to know why?”

What could he say? How much of the truth could he afford to tell? Jake suddenly felt a hundred years old.

“There are considerations I’m not at liberty to discuss with you, Clay.

But I give you my word I’ve spoken to people of the highest authority.”

It was the truth.

Daniel knew most of what was going on.

Most, but not all.

“I really don’t think there’s anything for you to worry about.”

Clay watched him closely.

“I’m asking you to trust me, Clay.

Let me handle this my way.”

Clay took a deep breath.

“All right, Jake.

For now, I’ll agree.

But if anything else happens—anything at all—I’m going to the police.”

It was more than he’d hoped for.

“Fair enough,”

Jake said and prayed nothing else would go wrong.