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C HAPTER O NE
“I need help. I’m pregnant, Mrs. Culhane. The baby is Frank’s.”
The words replayed against the throbbing beat in Lila Culhane’s head as she hung up the office phone and sank into the leather banker’s chair that had been her late husband’s.
Raking her blond hair back from her face, she muttered a string of unladylike swearwords. Wasn’t it enough that Frank was dead—murdered in the stable with the unknown killer still at large? Wasn’t it enough that Frank’s grown children and ex-wife were scheming to evict her from the house and ranch that had been her home for eleven years—the home she had rightfully inherited?
Evidently it wasn’t enough. Fate had just thrown Frank’s pregnant mistress into the mess—a young woman Lila had learned about only one day before Frank was discovered dead from a massive injection of fentanyl.
What now?
She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. The house was quiet with the recent visitors gone. She could hear a trapped horsefly buzzing against the window. From the upstairs hallway came the sound of a vacuum cleaner as Mariah, the cook and housekeeper, went about her work.
Lila needed a drink. But this wasn’t the time to dull her senses with alcohol. She needed a clear head to examine her options.
Crystal—that was the young woman’s name. Against her better judgment, Lila had agreed to meet with her tomorrow at the Trail’s End restaurant in nearby Willow Bend. It might have been smarter to have just hung up the phone and have nothing to do with her claim. But she needed to know, at least, whether Crystal was really carrying Frank’s child or lying as a way to get money.
The manila envelope, holding the photos Lila had paid for, was taped to the underside of the center desk drawer. Not that there was a need for hiding it. Frank’s infidelities were no longer a secret.
But that didn’t mean she would share what she’d just learned—especially if Crystal was telling the truth.
Lila’s hand shook slightly as she slid the photos out of the envelope and spread them on the desktop. Without a doubt, the handsome man in the motel room doorway was Frank. With his distinguished looks and air of wealth, he’d never had any trouble attracting women. Lila should have realized long ago that his cheating wouldn’t stop with his second marriage. After all, he’d cheated on his first wife, Madeleine, with her .
As the wronged and angry wife, Lila knew she was a prime suspect in the ongoing investigation of Frank’s murder. But right now, she had even more urgent concerns.
She’d studied the photos before. But now that she’d spoken with the mystery woman in Frank’s arms, she saw the details with different eyes. Crystal had been photographed from behind. Her face didn’t appear in any of the photos—just her long black hair and one of her hands, which rested on Frank’s shoulder. The hand told a story of its own—the drugstore nails and the gaudy rings on three fingers. Lila knew good jewelry when she saw it. The rings were cheap fakes. Crystal was poor and undoubtedly after money. The only question was, how desperate was she?
Paying her to go away might be the simplest solution. Of course, Crystal would have to consent to an in vitro paternity test. If the baby didn’t have Frank’s DNA, that would be the end of the story. But if the young woman was telling the truth . . .
Lila dismissed the thought. She was inclined to believe that Crystal was lying. During her eleven-year marriage, Lila had tried everything to get pregnant. Since she’d given birth to a daughter at eighteen, she knew she wasn’t infertile. And Frank had two children from his first marriage. After a time, when she’d failed to conceive, she’d begun to suspect he’d had a secret vasectomy. But the coroner who’d done his autopsy hadn’t bothered to check. Now it was too late. His body lay in the Culhane family cemetery on a desolate hilltop, within sight of the house.
Nerves quivering, Lila put the photographs away, stood, and walked to the window. The ranch office gave her a view of the stable, the covered arena, and the paddocks beyond, where blooded American quarter horses grazed in the morning sunlight. Beyond the paddocks, in the larger pasture, Black Angus cattle fed on the drought-yellowed grass.
For the past eleven years, as Frank’s wife and business partner, she had given her time, her energy, and her heart to this ranch and its program of breeding and training performance horses. It had become her world, her life. Now, with Frank’s death, everything had been thrown into chaos.
With Frank’s ex and her two adult children plotting to take everything Lila had worked for, the one person she could count on had been Roper McKenna, her horse trainer and manager. But now, even his support was coming into question.
Lila was fighting battles from all sides; the last thing she needed was Frank’s former mistress showing up pregnant.
Without conscious thought, she found herself leaving the house and heading down the cobblestone path to the stable, where Roper would be working the horses that were owned, boarded, and trained at the Culhane Ranch. Weeks ago, she would have taken him into her confidence and trusted him to understand. She might even have told him about Crystal.
But all that had changed after Roper qualified for Frank’s place in the reining event of the year—the Run for a Million. Lila had known he’d be getting a lot of attention. Big horse breeders would be courting him, offering him money and prestige to train in their stables and compete on their horses.
She needed Roper. He’d worked for Frank before he’d worked for her. There was no one else she trusted to manage her horse operation. That was why she’d been prepared to offer him a partnership—the one thing he wouldn’t get from anyone else.
But now she was holding back on the offer. Roper, who’d been her rock, was showing signs of dissatisfaction. The loyalty she’d felt from him was gone—if it had ever been real. Lila sensed that she was going to lose him, and she didn’t know what to do.
* * *
In the covered arena, Roper had just put One in a Million through his paces—the pattern of rapid circles, dashes, and gallops ending in a spectacular sliding stop with a rollback. At the age of thirteen, the legendary stallion was still as sharp as he’d been a few weeks ago, when he’d won Roper a place as one of sixteen riders in the Run for a Million.
The big bay roan had the heart of a champion. But at his age, did he have the speed and stamina to win again?
The decision was Roper’s to make—and he needed to make it soon.
Frank Culhane had qualified for the final event at the March Cactus Classic, riding Million Dollar Baby, a daughter of One in a Million. He’d also planned to ride the promising mare in the Run for a Million. But Frank’s murder, followed by Baby’s tragic death, had changed everything.
One in a Million had been Frank’s horse, winning him more than a million dollars before being retired to stud at the age of ten. In the competition for Frank’s place, it had been decided that Roper would show the aging stallion, but only as a tribute to his late owner. To everyone’s astonishment, One in a Million had caught fire in the arena. His scores had put Roper in first place.
Roper walked the stallion to cool him down before turning him over to the grooms. The horse snorted softly, his hooves sinking into the thick layer of sand, loam, and sawdust that cushioned the arena floor. After his retirement at the age of ten, Frank had ordered that One in a Million be exercised and kept in good condition. With luck, the big bay roan could give the ranch another decade of stud fee earnings. But was he up for the stress of competing in the Run for a Million? Would he have even a prayer of winning?
The right horse could make all the difference, but reining events were a competition between riders. A rider could compete on any horse he or she chose. If the rider was using a borrowed horse, the winnings would be divided between the rider and the horse’s owner—typically a breeder, a rancher, or even a corporation.
If Roper were to compete on One in a Million, any prize money won would be split with Lila. But if Roper were to win on someone else’s horse, Lila would be out of luck.
And that was Roper’s dilemma.
Since his qualifying win, Roper had received numerous offers from owners who wanted him to ride their horses. Good offers. Great horses, strong and well trained, with sterling bloodlines. Some were already big money winners.
Time was running out. If his choice wasn’t to be One in a Million, he needed time to try other horses and more time to work with the one he chose.
If he didn’t choose the great roan stallion, he would be battling Lila all the way. He wanted to keep her happy—and keep his job. But more than anything, he wanted to win.
He could see Lila now, standing at the entrance to the arena. Tall, blond, and stunning in a white silk blouse and tailored slacks, she was built like the Vegas showgirl she’d been before her marriage. Roper’s pulse skipped at the sight of her. He brought himself under control before he acknowledged her with a tip of his Stetson. She remained where she was, a ray of sunlight falling on her hair.
Lila was his employer, as Frank had been before her. To cross the line between them would be a mistake—especially now, while they were at odds over his choice of a horse. Still, sometimes, the urge to reach out and pull her into his arms was almost too compelling to resist. She was so fiercely proud of her own strength, yet so alone . . .
Roper ended the thought with a curse as he crossed the arena to the stable entrance, where a groom was waiting to take the stallion. After dismounting, he turned and walked back to where Lila waited for him. In her rigid posture and the stubborn jut of her chin, he read the signs of a coming showdown.
“Boss?” It was what Roper called her—Lila being too familiar and Mrs. Culhane too formal. Despite his misgivings, the word left his lips as a caress.
“It’s time,” she said. “I need to know what you’re thinking.”
Roper sighed and shook his head. “If you put One in a Million back in the arena, you know he’ll give you everything he’s got. But he’s too old for this level of competition, Boss. He knows the routines and could probably do well in senior events. But he can’t win against those younger horses.”
“He did it once.”
“I know he did. But his legs, his heart and lungs—they won’t hold out forever. He could die out there or have to be put down. Even if he had a chance of winning, would it be worth the risk?”
Lila lowered her gaze.
“With luck and care, One in a Million could live another ten years,” Roper said. “His stud fees and his colts could earn a lot more over time than he could ever win competing.”
“We have other horses,” Lila said.
“We do. They’ve got talent and good pedigrees, but they’re still in training. They don’t have the experience to win the Run for a Million. We were counting on Baby for that. She had it all.”
“I could buy another horse.”
“You could. I thought of that. But a trained horse with champion bloodlines would bankrupt the ranch. You’d have to find an investment group and buy in. There’s no time for that now. As I see it, there’s only one way to win.”
“You mean for you to win.” Her gaze hardened. “I know you’ve had some great offers, Roper. Are you going to take one?”
His jaw tightened. “I want to win. At least I want a fair chance.”
“So you’d bring the horse here, board it in my stable, train it in my arena, and then, if you win—”
“I could arrange to go somewhere else.”
“You’ll have to if you’re not working for me anymore.” Lila let the threat hang, but Roper felt the sting of her words. The lady meant business.
“Let’s not fight, Boss,” he said. “I know where you stand, and I want to be fair. But I’ve got a lot of thinking to do. Can we talk again tomorrow?”
She exhaled, clearly impatient with him. “Fine. I’ve got a busy day planned tomorrow. I’ll come and find you when I have a few minutes. But you’d better have something to tell me. I’m tired of being strung along.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, she swung away from him and stalked out of the arena.
Roper cursed his indecision as he watched her go. Lila had relied on his support since Frank’s death. He despised himself for letting her down, especially when she was dealing with other problems, including the fight to keep her property. He cared deeply for her. But a chance to win the Run for a Million was the dream of a lifetime. How could he throw it away by choosing an aging stud or an unprepared youngster from the ranch?
The conflict wasn’t so much about the prize money as it was about loyalty. That issue was going to make his decision even more painful. Once it was in place, he feared that things would never be the same between him and Lila.
Could he live with that?
A groom was waiting with the next horse. Forcing himself to focus, Roper strode back across the arena, mounted up, and went to work.
* * *
In her haste, Lila had taken the wrong exit from the arena. She was still fuming over Roper’s attitude when she found herself in the stable wing that led back to the house.
She was facing an empty box stall, still festooned with yellow crime scene tape. It was One in a Million’s old stall, the place where Frank had been found dead from a massive injection of fentanyl in his neck.
The only witness to the crime had been the stallion. Removed to a different stall, One in a Million had been a bundle of nerves, trembling and snorting. Roper’s skilled handling had finally calmed him. But the memory of his master’s death would be imprinted on the big roan’s brain for the rest of his life.
Frank’s killer had yet to be found. Madeleine, Frank’s ex, had confessed to hiring a mob hit on him—a hit that had never been carried out because Frank was already dead. Someone else, probably someone Frank had known and trusted, had injected him from behind. His daughter, Jasmine, had found his body the next morning, lying face down in the straw.
After Madeleine’s confession, the FBI agent who’d stayed at the ranch had gone back to his office in Abilene. Tomorrow, he’d be returning to take up the investigation again. Maybe this time he would be able put Frank’s murder to rest—a murder that had made the national tabloids.
Everyone in the Culhane family and on the ranch was under suspicion, including Lila herself. Now it appeared that there might be a new suspect—Crystal.
If Frank had been told about her alleged pregnancy, and he’d refused to marry her, support her, or even believe her, that would have given Crystal motive to kill him.
Tomorrow Lila would be meeting Crystal at lunch. Would she be confronting a na?ve young woman who’d been led astray? Or would she be facing a ruthless opportunist, capable of lying and murder?