The Family Diamond. Moyra Tarling
where she was.
Rolling onto her back, she stretched. A glance at the digital clock on the bedside table told her it was 4:55. She lay for several minutes enjoying the warmth and comfort of the queen-size bed.
Pushing the covers aside, she rose and went to the sliding doors. Outside on the balcony she inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar and much-loved scent of horses and hay and the outdoors.
The air was fresh and invigorating and not as chilly as it would have been had she been standing on her small front porch back in Bridlewood.
The sun was still abed but the faint glow to the east told her it would soon be making an appearance. Restless and suddenly eager to begin work with the horse she’d come to help, she decided to take a walk outside and locate the stables.
Slipping back into her room she indulged in a quick shower before dressing in her jeans and pale-blue cotton shirt. She braided her still-wet hair into one long ponytail. Out of habit Maura made up her bed and, with her riding boots in her hand, headed downstairs.
When she reached the kitchen, she came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Spencer scooping ground coffee into the automatic coffeemaker.
For a moment she was tempted to sneak away, but she wasn’t quick enough.
“Good morning. Coffee will be ready in a few minutes. Would you care to join me?”
“That would be lovely, thank you,” Maura replied politely, noting, as she came farther into the kitchen, the weary slant of his shoulders and the lines around his eyes.
“I hope you slept well,” said Spencer.
“Like a baby,” Maura replied as she crossed to the table, annoyed at the nervous flutter of her stomach. “What about you?”
“I didn’t sleep at all,” he replied, tiredness seeping into his voice. He glanced up and met her gaze head-on. “I had a few things on my mind.”
Maura felt her heart kick against her rib cage in alarm.
“Really,” she said cautiously, unsure just how she should respond. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do, is there?” she asked out of politeness.
Spencer switched on the coffeemaker and turned to give her his full attention.
“Actually, there is,” he said, his gaze hard and unyielding, sending a quiver of alarm racing through her. “Perhaps you can explain to me why, after turning down my invitation two months ago to come to California, you suddenly called to say you’d changed your mind?”
Chapter Three
Spencer studied Maura’s startled expression with interest. Ever since her strange and unforgettable reaction to hearing Michael Carson’s name, he’d become both wary and suspicious.
Her nervous chatter, followed by her comments on cruises, ships and holidays, had only added to his unease. For a fleeting moment she’d reminded him of Lucy, who’d been an expert at hiding the truth.
At dinner he’d deliberately brought up the subject of Michael Carson, just to see Maura’s reaction. He’d caught the flash of keen interest in her hazel eyes, as well as the sudden tension in her body. She’d held her breath, just as she was doing now.
“Cat got your tongue, red?” Spencer asked and saw annoyance and guilt war with each other in the depths of her eyes.
“I felt bad, that’s all,” Maura replied, inwardly bristling at his use of the hated nickname.
“Really?” he said, his tone telling her he didn’t for a minute believe her.
“I was rude to you that night. Afterward I regretted my outburst.” She hoped she sounded convincing. “I realized that the best way to prove how wrong your assumptions were about me was to come to California and show you just what I can do. By turning you down that night I was really punishing the horse, not you.”
Spencer laughed. The low throaty sound sent her pulse skyrocketing.
“That’s very good,” he said. “But that was two months ago. You took your time…thinking it over. Why did it take you so long to call?”
Maura glared at him. He had her over a barrel, but she wasn’t about to give in without a fight. “Look…if you don’t want my help with Indigo you should have said so when I called, that way we could have saved each other a lot of time and expense—”
Spencer heard the genuine indignation and anger in her voice, and for a moment he was tempted to believe her. In truth he wanted to believe that her only reason for coming to California was to work with his prize-winning racehorse, but he simply didn’t buy it.
He remembered vividly their encounter that night two months ago. He’d have bet money on never hearing from her again. And while he acknowledged that he really had very little to back up his sense of unease, he wasn’t a man who ignored his instincts, not anymore.
Silently he admired the spark of challenge and defiance he could see in her eyes. But if she wasn’t hiding something, why was she chewing nervously on her lower lip?
Confrontation hadn’t worked; perhaps he needed to try another approach. “I do need your help with Indigo,” he replied, deciding to bide his time, to wait and watch. “Look…I’m sorry,” he went on, and noted with some satisfaction the glint of relief that danced briefly in her eyes.
“That’s all right.” Maura brushed aside his apology and tried to ignore the way her heart flip-flopped crazily inside her chest.
His question, though not unexpected, had surprised her. But even more startling had been the fact that for a mind-numbing second, as the silence stretched between them, she’d been sorely tempted to confide in him, to tell him about her mother’s journal and her startling discovery that Michael Carson was her father.
She’d quickly quashed the impulse. In all likelihood he wouldn’t believe her. And she quickly reminded herself Spencer had been married to Lucy, Michael’s daughter. His loyalty undoubtedly lay in that direction, and if she told him the truth, he’d accuse her of lying or something equally unpleasant and send her packing before she could meet her father.
If she stayed at the Diamond Ranch, her chances of coming face-to-face with Michael Carson were much higher. With that possibility in mind, she would concentrate on Indigo and pray that her father would pay his neighbors and friends a visit.
And if in the meantime she succeeded in helping Indigo overcome his problems, she might get the added bonus of earning Spencer’s trust and respect.
“Do you still want coffee?” Spencer’s question cut into her wandering thoughts.
“Yes. Thank you.” Maura approached the counter. “Tell me more about Indigo.”
Spencer retrieved two mugs from the cupboard above the sink and filled them. He slid one mug across the counter toward her, followed by the cream jug, then leaned against the butcher block, coffee in hand.
“I bought Indigo two years ago at a sale here in the California. Since then he’s won all six races we’ve entered him in.
“Unfortunately, he’s got a thing about starting gates, and with each race he’s gotten progressively worse. At the last race two months ago the stewards came close to disqualifying him. He held up the proceedings for more than twenty minutes before they finally got him into the gate.”
“Does he react the same way when he’s being loaded into the horse van?” Maura asked.
“No. Well, at least not to the same degree,” Spencer replied. “He balks at first but after a few tries we get him loaded. Why?”
“Just curious,” she said. “When did you say he was due to race?”
“A week Saturday, at Santa Anita,” Spencer answered. “And if he refuses to enter