"This is fine." She waited for a moment, wondering if she'd be bombarded with some sensory memory.

But all she felt was curiosity.

"Your bathroom's through here." Anxious to please, Gertie opened a door. "You just ask if you need any more towels. Or anything, anything at all. I'll go call Miss Naomi."

"No, don't." On impulse Kelsey turned away from the suitcases. "I'll go on down. I can unpack later."

"I'll do that for you. Don't you worry about that. You go on down and have a nice visit, then you can have lunch. You want to button that jacket. The air's chilly."

Kelsey fought back a smile. "All right. I'll be back for lunch."

"Make your mama come. She needs to eat."

"I'll tell her." Kelsey left Gertie happily opening the suitcases. It was tempting to do a quick turn around the house, to poke into rooms and explore hallways. But it could wait. The day might have held the chill of the dying winter, but it was gloriously sunny. And, Kelsey hoped as she went out, promising.

She wasn't going to start the visit by chasing at shadows. It would have to be done, of course. Still, it seemed harmless to enjoy one uncomplicated day in the country, with the smells of hardy spring blooms and new grass in the air, the panorama of hills and horses and sky. She could look on it, at least for now, as a short vacation. Until she'd literally packed her bags, she hadn't realized just how much she'd needed to get away from the confinement of her apartment, the fill-in job, the tedious routine of learning to be single again.

And here, she thought as she caught the first poignant smell of horse, was something else to be learned, after all. She knew nothing about the racing world, nothing of the people and little of the animals that composed it.

So, she would study and find out. It seemed to follow that the more she discovered, the better she would understand her mother.

As before, there was activity at the stables, horses being walked or washed, men and women carrying tack, hauling wheelbarrows. Kelsey tolerated the sidelong glances and outright stares and walked inside.

A groom was bandaging a mare's legs in the first box. Kelsey hesitated when he cut his eyes up to hers.

His eyes were shadowed under the bill of his cap, and his face was incredibly old, cracked like neglected leather left in the sun.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Ms. Chadwick."

"Grew up, did ya?" The man shifted a tobacco plug into the pocket of his cheek. "Heard you was coming. There now, sweet thing, hold your water."

It took Kelsey a moment to realize the last comment was addressed to the mare and not to her. "Is something wrong with her?" Kelsey asked. "The horse?"

"Just a little sprain. Old she is, but still likes to run. You remember the days, don't you, girl? Won her first race and her last, and a goodly number between. Twenty-five she is. Was a spry young filly when you last saw her." His grin, mostly toothless, flashed. "Don't remember, I expect, her nor me. I'm Boggs.

Put you up on your first pony. Forget how to ride, have you?"

"No. I can ride." Kelsey reached out a hand to stroke the old mare's cheek. "What's her name?"

"Queen Vanity Fair. I just call her Queenie."

The mare whickered, her soft brown eyes looking deeply into Kelsey's. "She's too old to race now,"

Kelsey murmured.

"Or to breed. Queenie's in retirement, but she gets to thinking she's still a girl and kicks up her heels. If I was to bring a saddle in here, her ears would perk right up."

"She can still be ridden, then?"

"With the right rider. Your ma's in the breeding shed, out the back, to your left. Big doings today."

"Oh. Thank you ..."

"Boggs. Welcome home." He turned back, running his gnarled, callused hands as gently as silk over the mare's legs. "Best to wear boots around here next time."

"Yes." Nonplussed, Kelsey looked down at her soft Italian flats. "You're right."

She walked through the stables, pausing with a quick look over her shoulder before stopping by Serenity's box. She was rewarded by a welcoming snort and nuzzle.

Outside, she didn't require Boggs's directions. There was enough activity around the outbuilding to the left to have drawn her in any case.

She recognized Gabe, and was torn for a moment as to who looked more magnificent, he or the rearing chestnut stallion he was fighting to control. He stood at the horse's head, boots planted, muscles straining, the reins shortened while the stallion quivered and called.

His own hair flying in the breeze, Gabe tossed back his head and laughed. "Anxious, are you? Don't blame you a bit. Nothing like having a beautiful female ready for sex to get the blood moving. Hello, Kelsey." He continued to control the stallion without looking around. He'd known she was there. He almost believed he'd smelled her, as the stallion scented the mare. "You're just in time for the main event.

Aren't skittish, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Good. Naomi's inside with the mare. Longshot and Three Willows are about to breed a champion."

Kelsey skimmed her gaze over the horse. Handlers were positioned around him, helping Gabe to keep the stud from charging the shed. Magnificent he was, his coat already gleaming like flame from sweat, his eyes fierce, his muscles bunched.

"You're going to turn him loose on some poor, unsuspecting mare?"

Gabe grinned. "Believe me, she'll be grateful."

"She'll be terrified," Kelsey disagreed, and strode into the shed. She saw her mother and Moses calming the mare, who looked to be every bit as eager to get on with things as the stallion. She, too, was a chestnut, as regal as her intended mate. Even though she was hobbled, protected at the neck by a thick jacket of leather and canvas, she looked proud and valiant.

"Kelsey." Covered with grime and sweat, Naomi wiped a hand over her brow. "Gertie was supposed to let me know when you got here."

"I told her not to bother. I'm in the way?"

"No ..." Naomi looked doubtfully at Moses. "But things are about to get a little frantic. And graphic."

"I know a little about sex," Kelsey said dryly.

"Stay here," Moses added, "and you'll learn more. She's ready," he said to one of the handlers.

"Keep back out of the way," Naomi warned her daughter. "This isn't as simple as an hour in the local motel."

She could smell the sex. Even as Gabe and his handlers brought the stallion in, the air in the shed thickened with it. Sharp, edgy, elemental. The mare called out, in protest or welcome, and the stallion answered with a sound that caused something to tighten in Kelsey's stomach.

Orders were given; movements were quick. In a powerful lunge, the stallion reared up and mounted the mare. Wide-eyed, Kelsey stared as Moses stepped in and assisted in the most technical aspect of the coupling. Then her breath caught as she saw why the mare wore the leather neck cover. Surely the stallion would have bitten through her flesh without it. He plunged wildly, his need frantic and somehow human.

He covered her, commanding, demanding. She accepted, her eyes rolling in what Kelsey thought must surely be pleasure.

Hardly realizing it, she moved closer, fascinated by the passionate frenzy of mating. Her own heart was pounding, her blood hot. The quick, sharp pang of arousal staggered her.

She found herself looking at Gabe. Sweat was running down his face. His muscles strained against his shirt. And his eyes were on hers. It was shocking to see her own primitive and unexpected reaction mirrored there. Staggering to have the vision flash through her mind of being taken as the mare was being taken, fiercely, violently, heedlessly.

He smiled, a slow movement of lips that was both arrogant and charming. Smiled, she thought, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. As if he'd intended her to think it.

"Incredible, isn't it?" Naomi stepped back beside her. It was the third mare they'd bred that morning and her body was aching with the effort. "Hundreds of pounds lost in the most basic of needs."

"Does it-" Kelsey cleared her throat. "Does it hurt her?"

"I doubt she notices if it does." Out of her back pocket Naomi took a plain blue bandanna to mop her damp throat. "Some stallions breed very kind, like a shy or longtime lover." She grinned wryly at the panting horses. "There's not a shy bone in that one's body. He's a beast. And what woman doesn't want a beast now and again?" She glanced at Moses.

The intellect, Kelsey thought as her pulse danced. It would be better, or at least more comfortable, to explore the logistics. "How do you choose which stallion for what mare?"

"Bloodlines, dispositions, tendencies, even color. We make up genetic charts. Then you cross your fingers. Christ, I know it's a cliche, but I could use a cigarette. Let's get some air. They're nearly done here."

Naomi pulled a stick of gum out of her pocket as she stepped outside. "Want some?"

"No, thanks."

"It's a poor substitute for tobacco." She sighed a little as she folded the stick in her mouth. "But most substitutes are poor in any case." Tilting her head, she studied her daughter more thoroughly. "You look tired, Kelsey. Restless night?"

"Somewhat."

Naomi sighed again. Her daughter had once been so open with her, a chatterbox of news and questions.

Those days, like so many others, were over. "You can tell me if you'd rather I leave it alone, but I'd like to ask if Philip is against this visit."

"I think it's more accurate to say he's hurt by my decision to accept your invitation."

"I see." Naomi looked down at the ground, and nodded once. "I'd tell you I'd talk to him myself, try to reassure him, but I think it would only make matters worse."

"It would."

"All right, then. He'll be uneasy for a few weeks." Her eyes were hard when she looked up again.

Dammit, she deserved this-one short month out of so many years. "He'll survive. I can't be dead just because so many people would prefer it." She glanced over as Gabe led the sweaty stallion out of the shed. Her smile bloomed, softening her face again. "So, do you think we have a merger?"

"If not, it's not for lack of trying." He slapped the stallion's neck before giving the reins to a handler.

"The first of many, I hope. Well, Kelsey, you've had an interesting initiation into life on a horse farm. If you stick around till after the first of next year, you'll see the results of today's tryst."

"That's a very understated description for what went on in there. She didn't appear to have much choice in the matter."

"Neither did he." Grinning, Gabe took out a cigar. "That kind of primitive attraction doesn't allow for choice. Moses will let me know if we need a repeat performance," he said to Naomi, "but I've got a hunch we won't."

"I'd ask for odds, but I prefer to go with your hunch on this one. Excuse me just a minute. I want to check on the mare."

Kelsey looked over to where the stallion was being cooled down. "Shouldn't you be over there, exchanging lies and letting him puff on that cigar?"

"I gave up lying about my sex life in high school. Do I make you nervous, Kelsey, or is it just the atmosphere?"

"Neither." He made her something, all right, she thought. But that was her problem. "So you own the neighboring farm, then? Longshot?"

"That's right."

"I admired your house from the road. It's quite a bit less traditional than the others in the area."

"So am I. The very dignified Cape Cod that stood on the hill when the farm passed into my hands didn't suit me. So I tore it down." He blew out a stream of smoke. "You'll have to come over, have a tour."

"I'd like that, but I think I'll concentrate on touring Three Willows first."

"You won't find a better operation on the East Coast. Unless it's mine." The snort from behind him made him turn, then grin at Moses. "Of course, I'd have the best in the country if I could lure Whitetree away. Double what she pays you, Moses."

"Keep your money, boy. Buy yourself another fancy suit." Moses handed the mare to a stableboy for a rubdown. "Owners like you-flash in the pan."

"That's what you said five years ago."

"That's what I say now. Give me a cigar."

"You're a hard man, Whitetree." Gabe obliged him.

"Yep." Moses stuck the cigar in his pocket for later. "Your groom with the broken nose? There was gin on his breath."

Gabe's easy smile faded, his eyes narrowed. "I'll take care of it."

"Tell your trainer to take care of it," Moses shot back. "It's his job."

"My horses," Gabe corrected. "Excuse me." He turned on his heel and headed for the trailer where the stallion was being loaded.

"He'll never learn, that one," Moses muttered.

"There's no chain of command as far as Gabe is concerned." Watching Gabe confront the groom, Naomi shook her head. "You should have told his trainer, Moses."

"And Jamison shouldn't need me to tell him what goes on under his nose."

"Ah." Kelsey held up a hand. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Gabe's firing one of his grooms," Naomi told her.

"Just like that?"

"You don't drink when you're working." Moses hissed a breath out of his teeth as the groom's enraged voice carried to them. "Owners should stay out of shedrow business."

"Why?" Kelsey asked.

"Because they're owners." With a shake of his head, Moses strode off toward the stables.

"Never a dull moment." Naomi touched Kelsey's arm. "Why don't we ... shit."

"What?" Kelsey looked over in time to see the groom swing at Gabe. And to see Gabe evade, once, twice, fluid as a shadow.