The Feud, page 14
But I push those uncertainties aside. They have no place in the here and now. “I want you to send me a copy of the trust documents and any other pertinent information regarding the winery. I’ll have my own lawyers look at it. But in the meantime, I suggest you and I set up a meeting where we can go over everything and you can bring me up to speed on how to run a winery.”
Gabe looks like he wants to argue but eventually gives a curt nod. “I’ll have my secretary reach out to you.”
“That will be fine,” I reply. Gabe brushes past me, stepping out of the barn into the April sunlight. He gets no more than a few paces away when something occurs to me. “Sylvie has a dog.”
Gabe turns around, confusion on his face. “A dog?”
“Back in France. She misses him. I’d like to have him shipped here. No clue how to go about doing that but I need someone at the winery who can facilitate that on their end.”
I’m shocked to see Gabe’s face soften and he lets a small smile slip before locking it down. “That would be Esteban. He’s the general manager there. I’ll get his contact information to you. If you run into any issues, just let me know and I’ll do what I can to help.”
I force my jaw to stay locked and not drop open in shock from the genuine offer. Nodding, I say, “I’d appreciate that.”
Gabe doesn’t say another word but pivots on his foot. I watch him walk to a fiery-red Porsche but don’t wait for him to leave before shutting the office door. Scrubbing my hands through my hair, I huff out a sigh of frustration.
Things just got even more complicated where Sylvie is concerned. I had hoped to maintain a strong line to keep my family separated from the Mardraggons, but that appears to be impossible right now.
CHAPTER 14
Ethan
I long ago stopped training show riders, leaving it to my siblings because I have too many other responsibilities running the farm. While I don’t do the actual hands-on teaching anymore, I always attend the horse shows because the Blackburn name is being represented and it’s important that I support our clients who put in so much hard work and dedication to the sport. Not only that, it’s a way to show my appreciation and support of Kat, Trey and Wade.
In the younger divisions, like the twelve-and-under pleasure walk and trot class that Carmen is riding in with Lady Beatrice, the trainers are allowed to provide audible support as they compete. Because the arena is so big and the cheering robust, the four of us space out on each corner of the oval to give continued feedback and instruction as Carmen rides by. She’ll have a steady barrage of advice to pull from as she rides.
To my right, Sylvie stands at the white railing. She is on her tiptoes to peek over the top, her eyes riveted on her new friend. While I’ve been sorting through the aftermath of Gabe’s tumultuous visit to the barn the day before yesterday, Sylvie was becoming fast friends with Carmen over ice cream cones. She returned home that afternoon, sprinting through the front door of the main house and right past my office without glancing in to see me there.
Didn’t matter—I was beyond pleased by the way she ran right into the kitchen to find my mom working on a crossword puzzle at the table. Mom has been ready to swoop in and cement a grandmotherly bond with Sylvie, even more so now that Sylvie seems committed to at least giving things a try.
After Gabe left, I texted my parents and asked them to meet me at the main house where I filled them in on Alaine’s trust and how co-managing the winery will be more work on my already-overloaded plate. We brainstormed some and my father readily agreed to step back into partial management duties for the farm to ease my burden a bit. We still have things to decide, but all those worries seemed to slip away as I stood outside the kitchen and listened to Sylvie prattle on to my mother about her new friend. I didn’t know Sylvie could be that excited for anything and it more than warmed my heart.
It was nothing though, compared to the squeezing joy that gripped my soul when Sylvie, all out of words to describe her outing, hesitantly asked my mom, “May I call you Mamie?”
“Mamie?” Mom asked softly and oh so curiously.
“It’s a French nickname for grandma. Although I can be more formal and call you grand-mère.”
I couldn’t see my mom while I shamelessly eavesdropped, but I could imagine the softening of her features as I know that struck her deeply.
“I think Mamie is perfect,” she replied.
I left them alone but later learned from my father who texted to proudly announce that he is to be called Papi.
Looking down at my daughter as she watches Carmen trotting by, I itch to reach out and put my arm around her shoulders, but we aren’t there yet. I’m afraid that action would send her scurrying and building trust with her requires the tiniest of steps.
At today’s show, Carmen is in a large, very competitive class. Sylvie earlier had gushed over how beautiful her new friend looked in her fancy attire of a long-tailed coat, jodhpurs and derby hat.
Carmen is riding against nine other horses, which can be quite hair-raising given that these are the most inexperienced riders. Even after all these years, my heart still pounds with worry when one of our kids is in the ring and it doesn’t stop until the winner is announced. As Carmen approaches me, I do a quick once-over with critical eyes to take in not only her body positioning but that of her horse. I note that Lady Beatrice’s head is drifting forward, so as Carmen rides by, I call out, “Tighten your top rein.”
I watch with satisfaction as her black-gloved fingers moved slightly to shorten the strip of leather laced within and the horse responds by holding her head higher. Carmen enters the long straight of the arena right in front of the judge and guides the horse to the left around a slower rider. I am proud to see she does this after looking over her left shoulder to ensure she isn’t cutting off another rider, and that pride extends to the excellent training Kat has bestowed within her lessons. Safety is the most important thing in their teachings.
From the opposite side of the arena, one voice lifts above the others. A raspy cheer. “Go, Carmen!”
My gaze locks in on Marcie like a laser as she perches on the edge of her seat, watching Carmen ride. I can tell she’s nervous, as are most parents and family members when kids that age ride. Her full bottom lip is tucked between her teeth and her hands clutch the railing so hard, her knuckles are white. I don’t spare a glance at her sister, Michelle, sitting beside her. She is of no interest to me, but Marcie is.
Since our dinner the other night, I’ve thought a lot about the stunning redhead. I owe her so much because without her, the bridge between Sylvie and me may have never been built. But that isn’t really what occupies my thoughts. I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation as we sat at the bar and talked over good food. While Sylvie ended up being the main topic of discussion, I learned more about Marcie and what got her into education. I didn’t hesitate to ask about the demise of her marriage, especially after meeting her husband and learning of his cheating ways. I feel protective of Marcie because of that knowledge and I’m not quite sure why. I most definitely count her as a friend, but I think I might want more. I’ve had thoughts of asking her out and that is very unlike me. More than ever, with Sylvie entering my life, I simply don’t have the bandwidth to date.
Hell, I’m just not the dating type. I am a man who gives everything to make something succeed. I suppose the reason I’ve never bothered with a relationship is that I don’t have the resources to ensure it would succeed. I hate failure so it’s never been worth the bother.
And yet… Marcie might be worth the effort.
I know that I’ve been looking forward to seeing her at the show today. I also know that I’m having a hard time dragging my eyes away from her as she watches Carmen circle the arena.
“Carmen,” Wade calls out from my left. “Change your diagonal.”
I blink hard because Carmen is breezing past my position, bouncing once in the saddle to change her posting so that she rises from her seat in rhythm to Lady Beatrice’s rail side front leg. It is something that I should’ve observed as Carmen approached my position, but I’ve been stupidly staring at Marcie.
“That’s good,” I say, loud enough for Carmen to hear as she recedes away from me. “Hands up.”
I make sure to keep my gaze pinned on Carmen for the remainder of her ride, refusing to look over at Marcie again. I study the harmony between horse and rider—the blend of elegance, discipline and connection—as she works hard to put into play all the things she’s been taught.
When the show riders are finally called into the final lineup, my pulse slows a little. The trainers are allowed to meet them in the ring and Kat runs out to stand before Carmen, who sits up tall and proud in her saddle. Some of the other trainers need to take the horses by the bridle to keep them calm but Carmen has Lady Beatrice parked out impeccably, maintaining absolute control the entire time.
I didn’t watch the other riders so I can’t say how the pint-size Blackburn rider performed against the other horses, but I know she performed very well over all. I’m not surprised when Carmen’s name is called out and she receives the blue ribbon. A rousing cheer ripples around the arena, including Sylvie jumping up and down as she claps for her friend. I let my attention drag back across the ring to see Marcie out of her seat with her arms extended overhead, clapping for her niece as she yells. Her blue eyes shine bright and her happy smile is near perfection.
Unbelievably, and as if she knows I’m watching, her gaze flicks over to me. The exact spot where I’m standing, which means she’s been aware of exactly where I am in the arena, just as I knew where she was.
Marcie gives me a quick wink before returning her attention to her niece who is starting her victory lap.
Damn if that wink doesn’t make my lips quirk in response—a spontaneous smile that is an utter rarity for me.
I’m definitely going to attend the show’s after-party and hopefully get some time to talk to Marcie again.
CHAPTER 15
Marcie
Tipping the beer bottle for a tiny sip, I let my gaze sweep around the crowded pavilion. My sister just walked off to talk to some fellow horse friends, leaving me feeling a bit out of place. I’ve been to all of Carmen’s shows over the past three years, but I’ve never attended a social event with Michelle. Hell, I wouldn’t be attending this one if not for the invite from Ethan.
I’m not sure what it means. There are signs, I think. But I could totally be reading something out of nothing.
On the one hand, he directly invited me to this event. Could that be because he enjoyed spending time with me at dinner the other night? Or was he being polite because I’m Carmen’s aunt and part of her fan club?
I felt him watching me during the show. The weight of his gaze alone sent my pulse tripping and I’m not sure what possessed me to wink at him. I’m not sure what possessed me to take my attention off my niece, who’d just won a blue ribbon. But something made me flirt with the man from across the arena.
It’s practically scandalous—I’m not into Ethan.
Okay… that’s not true. Any woman with breath in her lungs would be into a man like him. But he is clearly not into me. From all I can tell from the past three years of observing and listening to my sister, Ethan Blackburn doesn’t do relationships.
No, I assure myself. I’m making stuff up in my mind. There is nothing there. Ethan is a nice guy to everyone and just because he happened to look at me across the arena doesn’t mean anything.
“Enjoying yourself?”
My body locks tight and had I been trying to attempt another sip at the god-awful beer my sister pushed into my hand, I probably would’ve choked. As it is, I order myself to remain cool and turn to look at Ethan who’s appeared at my side.
God, he looks good. The evening has turned a little chilly and he’s wearing a black fleece pullover with the Blackburn farm logo embroidered in red over the left chest area.
His dark hair is mussed, as if he’s spent all day raking his fingers through it in consternation. I know that he doesn’t take an active role in training the riders anymore, but he is at every show. In particular, he’s always ringside when the kids ride to have an extra pair of watchful eyes on them and to be ready to give advice when needed.
I didn’t just come to watch Carmen but stayed the rest of the day with my sister to cheer on all the Blackburn riders. Sylvie and Carmen hung out and I had an amazing time watching the girls. Every time a Blackburn rider was in the ring, Ethan was there, watching and helping the other trainers as necessary. I kept my eyes on him far too long, and any time I thought he might even glance my way, I averted my gaze.
To my knowledge, he never looked back over at me the way he did during Carmen’s ride, but I can’t be sure since I was too nervous to verify.
Now that I think about it, there is definitely nothing there. He’s just a friendly man and that’s the only reason he’s standing beside me now.
Never one to be less than a hundred percent honest, I hold up my beer and grimace. “Enjoying everything but the beer. My sister gave it to me and I hate beer.”
Chuckling, Ethan pulls the bottle from my hand and brings it to his mouth. There is something very intimate about him not having a care in the world that I’ve been drinking from it. He tips it back and pulls on the amber liquid as I watch, mesmerized.
His eyes twinkle when he asks, “What do you like to drink?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Wine is my go-to.”
“Most of these events are all about the beer and liquor, but I know just the place to get what you need.” Ethan takes me by the elbow and steers me through the crowd to a large table in the corner where a bunch of people sit. I immediately recognize Ethan’s sister, Kat, as well as his parents, Fi and Tommy Blackburn. They all wave and smile their greetings.
“Red or white?” Ethan asks.
“White,” I reply.
Ethan moves around the table and bends at the waist. I can’t see what he’s doing but he pops back up with a bottle of chilled white wine.
In response to my widened eyes, Ethan grins and nods down. “Family cooler of the good stuff. Mom and Kat are wine drinkers.”
“Well,” I say, looking down at Fi who is beaming back at me, “thank you for sharing.”
“Sláinte,” Fi says in her pert Irish accent.
Ethan produces a clear plastic cup and pours it three-quarters full before handing it to me, then taps the tip of the beer bottle against my drink. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I murmur and take a sip.
Fi reaches her hand out and touches my forearm. “Carmen rode brilliantly today. I know you’re dead proud.”
“Very proud,” I say, and nod toward Kat who is in conversation with a woman I don’t know, but she’s wearing a sweatshirt bearing another farm’s logo, so I assume perhaps another trainer. “Your daughter is a genius at teaching kids.”
Fi beams at the compliment. “All my kids are. Take after their pa.” Then she nods at Ethan. “I wish I could get that one back to training because he’s the best out of all of them. Unfortunately, he’s tops at everything, so he’s got way too many priorities ahead of that.”
I tip my face Ethan’s way to see if that compliment pleases or bothers him, but I find nothing other than a fond smile leveled back at his mother.
Fi’s gaze slides off to the side and she stands from the table. “Ah, excuse me. I see Susan and I’ve got to have a word with her about the bachelor auction tomorrow night.”
As his mother hustles off, I turn a questioning gaze to Ethan. “Bachelor auction?”
Ethan grimaces. “It’s something the country club does every year to raise money for literacy, mostly to provide reading resources for underprivileged kids. She tries to recruit me and my brothers every year to put ourselves up for auction for a date with the highest bidder.”
I laugh. “Tries to recruit?”
Ethan returns a sly smile. “Well, she succeeds where Trey and Wade are concerned but she’s never gotten me on the block. She knows I’ll revolt.”
“I thought you were a confirmed bachelor,” I tease. “So that means you are well suited for a bachelor auction.”
I expect Ethan to deny how well suited he would be to such a thing but instead he turns the tables on me. “What makes you think I’m a confirmed bachelor?”
Is he flirting? I can’t tell but my voice comes out a little husky as I reply, “It’s common knowledge that you are the most sought-after bachelor in Shelby County. And no one has been able to land you yet.”
Except Diane Turner, I think ruefully. I’ve heard the rumors around the barn that they are sleeping together but I’m not sure if it’s true. It really isn’t any of my business, but it still makes me feel awkward and a bit helpless. I like Ethan. Maybe deep in my heart I had hoped he might feel something for me based on the good time we had at dinner the other night. But just knowing that a beautiful woman like Diane might be warming his bed shoots a hole through my confidence.
I’m about to make an excuse to leave when he says, “I’ve got to go back to the show barn to check on the horses. Would you like to walk there with me?”
The horse shows usually last three to four days, and today is only the second. Even though the competition is right here at the fairgrounds in Shelby County, the Blackburns and all show barns transport their horses to stay on the fairground property so the animals aren’t stressed out every day riding back and forth in a trailer. There are several barns set up for these events and Blackburn has a large one that holds several horses, which are cared for by the farm staff. It doesn’t surprise me that Ethan feels the responsibility to check on them himself.
“Sure,” I say, my neck twisting to look around the pavilion for Michelle. I want to let her know where I’m going but I can’t see her in the throng of people. No matter, I’ll be back soon.
I spot Sylvie and Carmen running around with some of the kids from other barns and it makes me smile. I have no clue whether Sylvie will end up being a rider like her dad, aunt, uncles and grandparents, but she sure is making some personal connections here this weekend.
