"You were in a difficult position. I'll call him and explain."

"No, I'll go over in the morning and apologize face-to-face."

"Hateful, isn't it? Apologizing?"

"Almost as bad as being wrong." It was always a chore to swallow pride. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need where I'm concerned. You've walked into a world filled with strangers, Kelsey. You trusted your instincts. Whatever you did tonight, you did because you have a strong moral code, a finely developed sense of right and wrong."

"You're making excuses for me."

"I'm your mother," Naomi said quietly. "Maybe we'll both get used to that in time. Go get some sleep.

And if you don't want to face the lion in his den alone tomorrow, I'll go with you."

But she went alone. It was a matter of self-respect. At first she thought she'd drive over, but that would be so quick. Despite lying restless most of the night, she had yet to come up with the exact words or tone she wanted to use.

She decided to ask for a mount, and clear both head and nerves with a ride from farm to farm.

She found Moses rubbing liniment over the throat of a roan gelding. Foolishly she found herself hesitating. How did she approach him now that she knew he was Naomi's lover?

For the moment she just stood back and watched him. His hands were gentle, darkly tanned, wide at the palm. At his wrist he wore a bracelet of hammered copper. There was nearly as much gray as black in his braid. He had a distinctive face, though no one would have called it handsome, with its prominent nose and weather-scored skin. His body was tough and wiry, with little of the lithe muscular grace of Gabe's.

"Hard to figure, isn't it?" There was a touch of amusement in Moses's voice. He didn't have to turn for Kelsey to deduce it would be reflected in his eyes. "A beautiful woman like her. Rich. Classy. And a half-breed runt like me." He set the liniment aside and reached for a bowl of watery gruel. "Can't blame you for being surprised. Surprises me all the time."

"I'm sorry?"

"Naomi figured she should let me know she told you about us."

Wincing, Kelsey rubbed a hand over her face. How much more embarrassing could it possibly get?

"Mr. Whitetree."

"Moses, let's make it Moses considering the situation. Come on, boy." Murmuring, he urged the gruel on the gelding. "Try a little now. Just a little at a time. I fell in love with her when I first came to work here as a groom. She'd have been about eighteen then. I'd never seen anything like her in all my life. Not that I expected her to look at me twice. Why should she?"

Kelsey watched him nurse the horse, saw the kindness, the strength, the simple sturdiness. "I think I can see why." Making the gesture, she stepped into the box until they were shoulder to shoulder. "What's wrong with him?"

"King Cole here's got laryngitis."

"Laryngitis? Horses get laryngitis? How can you tell?"

"See here?" Taking her hand, Moses guided it over the throat. "You can feel it's swollen."

"Yes, poor thing." She made soothing noises as she rubbed gently. "Is it serious?"

"Can be. If it's severe, the air passage gets blocked and he can choke."

"You mean die?" Alarmed, she pressed her cheek to the gelding's. "But it's just a sore throat."

"In you. In him it's different. But he's coming along, aren't you, fella? He can't take food yet, but gruel or some linseed tea."

Tea for a horse, Kelsey thought. "Shouldn't the vet see him?"

"Not unless it worsens. We keep him warm, use eucalyptus inhalations, smear camphor on his tongue three, four times a day. He's not coughing anymore, and that's a good sign."

"How much of the doctoring do you do yourself?"

"We only call Matt in when we can't handle it."

"I thought a trainer trained."

"A trainer does everything. Sometimes it seems the horses are the least of it. You spend a day with me sometime, you'll see."

"I'd like that."

It had been an offhand remark, nothing he'd expected her to pick up on. Thoughtful, he eyed her. "I start before dawn."

"I know. And you probably don't want me tagging along. But I was wondering if there was something I could do while I'm here. Muck out stables or clean tack. I wouldn't expect to be trusted with the horses, but I hate doing nothing."

Her mother's daughter, Moses mused. Well, they'd see. "There's always something to do around here.

When do you want to start?"

"This afternoon, maybe tomorrow. There's something I have to do this morning." Her mood shifted downward at the thought. "I'd rather shovel manure than do it, but it can't be avoided."

"Come down when you're ready, then."

"I appreciate it. I wonder, is there a riding horse I could borrow this morning? I do know how to ride."

"You're Naomi's daughter. That means you know how to ride and you don't have to ask for permission to take a horse."

"I'd rather ask."

"We'll saddle up Justice, then," he decided. "He'd suit you."

The roan gelding liked to run. He'd been retired for three years, but he had never accepted his lowered status as a riding mount. He was often used to pony a contender onto the track for the post parade, and though he preferred to run, he performed his duties with dignity.

He'd never been a champion, as Moses explained to Kelsey. But neither had he been common, and he had finished steadily in the money throughout his career.

She didn't care if he'd lost every race, not when he took her flying over the hills, his body running like an oiled engine beneath hers.

He responded eagerly to the slightest pressure of her knees, moving from churning trot to fluid gallop, as happy as she to have the morning and the rising fields stretched out before them.

This was a pleasure she realized she'd denied herself for too long. And one she wouldn't deny herself again, no matter how her muscles might ache later. Even when she left Three Willows, she'd find a way to indulge herself in this one delight.

Maybe she'd give up her apartment entirely, move out of town. There was no reason she couldn't buy a small place of her own, and a horse. She might have to have it stabled, of course, but that could be arranged. If she absorbed enough from Moses, she could even work at a stable.

She gulped in the cool wine of early spring, the smell of grass and young growing things. Why in the world did she ever think she had to stay in an office or gallery hour after hour when she could be outside, doing something for the sheer joy of it?

She shook back her hair and laughed as they sailed over a narrow creek and thundered up a rise.

Then she reined in, spotting the spread of buildings below.

Longshot. Leaning forward, she patted Justice's neck and studied the scene. The ride had done her a great deal of good, but it hadn't solved the essential problem. She still hadn't a clue how to approach Gabe.

"So, we'll play it by ear," she muttered, and clucked Justice into a dignified trot.

Gabe saw her come down the rise. He stayed where he was, by the fence watching a yearling respond to the longe. He wasn't any more calm than he'd been the evening before. Nor, he realized as she rode closer, so slim and straight and golden on the majestic Thoroughbred, did he want her any less.

He took another drag on his cigar, expelled smoke lazily. And waited.

As she dismounted and walked the gelding toward Gabe, Kelsey supposed she had been more miserable. But past miseries never seem as huge as current ones.

"You ride well," he commented. "An old trooper like this takes a steady hand."

"I usually have one. If you have a few minutes, I'd like to talk to you."

"Go ahead."

Why should he make it easy? she asked herself, and swallowed another lump of pride. "Privately.

Please."

"Fine." He took the reins and signaled a groom. "Cool him off, Kip."

"Yes, sir."

Kelsey lengthened her stride to keep up as Gabe turned away from the stables. "You have a nice operation here. It all looks very similar to Three Willows."

"Want to talk shop?"

"No." She let the attempt at small talk wither and die. "I realize you're busy. I'll try not to take up much of your time." Then she closed her mouth and said nothing more until he slid open a glass door at the rear of the house.

It opened into the tropics. Lushly blooming plants tumbled from pots and basked in the sunlight that streamed through the glass roof. A tiled pool glinted in the center, oval-shaped and invitingly blue.

"It's beautiful." She trailed a finger over a flashy red hibiscus. "I guess we didn't get this far last night."

"Continuing the tour didn't seem appropriate." He sat on a striped lounge chair and stretched out his legs. "This is private."

She watched the smoke curl from the tip of his cigar toward the gently rotating fans suspended from the ceiling. "I came to apologize." Nothing, absolutely nothing tasted less palatable.

He merely arched a brow. "For?"

"My behavior last evening."

As if considering, he tapped out his cigar in a silver bucket of sand. "You demonstrated varied behavior last evening. Can you be more specific?"

She rose, helplessly, to the bait. "You're hateful, Slater. Cold, arrogant, and hateful."

"That's quite an apology, Kelsey."

"I did apologize. I came over here choking on it, but I apologized. You don't even have the decency to accept it."

"As you pointed out last night, I'm lacking in decency." Lazily, he crossed his ankles. "I'm to assume from this sudden turnabout that you confronted Naomi and she set you straight."

Her only defense was to angle her chin. "You could have denied it."

"Would you have believed me?"

"No." Infuriated all over again, she whirled away from him. "But you could have denied it. You have to be able to see what it felt like to believe what I believed and to find myself ..."

"What?"

"Crawling all over you." She all but spat the words as she spun around. "I won't deny it. I jumped right into your arms. I didn't think-couldn't think. I'm not proud of it, but I won't pretend it was one-sided. I have needs, too, and urges, and-dammit, I'm not cold!"

He wasn't sure which surprised him most, the sudden vehemence of her last statement or the tears glittering in her eyes. "I'm the last one you'd have to convince of that. Why in hell would you have to convince yourself?"

Appalled, she fought back the tears. "That's not the point," she said. "The point is I made an enormous mistake. I said things to you that you didn't deserve and that I regret." She dragged both hands through her hair, then let them fall. "God, Gabe, I thought you'd been in her room the night before. I'd heard ..."

"Moses?" he finished.

She shut her eyes, sighed. "The fool's always the last to know. I thought it was you. And the idea that you'd go from her to me-that I'd let you ..." She trailed off again. "I'm sorry."

She looked so lovely, the sun gilding her hair, regret darkening her eyes. He nearly sighed himself. "You know, I really wanted to stay pissed off at you. I figured it was going to be easy and, Christ knows, safer." He pushed out of the chair. "You look tired, Kelsey."

"I had a lousy night."

"Me too." He reached up to touch her cheek, but she stepped back.

"Don't. Okay? I feel like an idiot saying it. More than an idiot knowing it, but I'm in a vulnerable state right now. And you seem to set me off."

He bit back a groan. "I appreciate you sharing that with me, darling. It's sure to help me sleep at night.

'Don't touch me, Gabe, I might start crawling all over you again.' "

She had to smile. "Something like that. Why don't we start this whole business from the top?" She offered a hand. "Friends?"

He looked down at her hand, then back into her eyes. "I don't think so." Watching her, he edged closer.

"Listen ..." She could already feel the heat, moving up from her toes. "I don't want to get involved. It's lousy timing for me." Cautious, she took a step back.

"Too bad. I'm real pleased with the timing myself."

"I'm telling you-" She stepped back again, met empty air. Kelsey caught the grin in his eyes seconds before she hit the water. It was pleasantly cool, but no less of a shock. She surfaced, dragging wet hair out of her eyes. "You bastard."

"I didn't push you. Thought about it, but didn't." Helpfully, he offered a hand to haul her out.

Her eyes lit. She grasped it, tugged. She might as well have pulled at a redwood.