scuffed his toe across the hardwood floor covered by a few thick wool throw rugs. And although the office was attached to the stables, the room lacked any scent of horses since it was outfitted to impress visitors. A few framed photos of Quest’s most famous equine residents lined the walls.
“I know that too, but you would have done as well or even better considering you’re as obsessive about your work as you are about—oh—everything else you’ve ever tackled.” Melanie slid her feet out of her riding boots and tucked them under her. “Remember when you decided to take up cliff-diving?”
“Whoa. Anybody ever tell you that you’ve got a knack for backhanded compliments?” Still, Robbie took some solace in his sister’s opinion, since she knew horses as well as anyone, and her endorsement meant a lot, even if it was sandwiched between insults. “And for your information, three emergency-room visits in one summer builds character.”
“I seem to remember Dad saying it built a thicker head.” She flashed him an evil grin and socked him gently in the gut as he paced past her chair.
He paused long enough to pull her hair gently in a reflex gesture—a remnant of their days as kids that had long ago turned into a sign of affection.
“You know I’m twenty-eight and that’s still what the old man sees?” He looked out the window onto the front paddock area, which was more for show than anything, the greens immaculate even if summer was quickly sliding into fall. “Even when I train a Derby winner like Leopold’s Legacy, Dad fixates on the fact that I broke my nose twice in a season.”
“I’m not touching that one.”
Turning back to Melanie, he watched her tip her head back in her chair and study him with assessing eyes, her delicate size belying a nature every bit as fierce as his.
“Neither am I.” He looked back out the window in time to see Marcus Vasquez—-a trainer who had come to Quest from Australia’s Lochlain Stables, run by Robbie’s cousin—walking toward the offices with a woman Robbie had never seen before.
“What do you mean?” Melanie rose to join him at the window.
Robbie was surprised it took a bit of effort to tear his gaze away from the pretty woman talking to the new head trainer. Her short hair blew around her face, the dark locks sunkissed with lighter streaks. She wasn’t necessarily beautiful, but something about her face fascinated him. Her easy laughter reminded him of all the ways his life had grown too uptight. Too frustrating.
“I mean I’m not sticking around for another year of Preston dramas when this family is hanging on to financial security by its teeth.”
He’d been angry about a lot of things in the past few months and it had all come to a head when his father had imported Marcus from halfway around the world even though Robbie had more than enough qualifications for the job. Considering Quest’s reputation had been called into question when the Jockey Association withdrew Leopold Legacy’s status as a Thoroughbred, given his uncertain paternity, the stables could have benefited from the cost-saving measures of hiring a family member.
“Please don’t make any hasty decisions—”
Impatience fired through him and he found himself concentrating on the pretty brunette’s smile to ease the rush of anger.
“This isn’t hasty. I’ve had plenty of time to think it over and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’d rather not sit at the dinner table with people who don’t respect what I do. I’ll continue my training duties, but I’m going to get a place in town.”
“You know what that will do to Granddad?” Melanie lowered her voice as Marcus approached the door to the small office and the mystery woman turned in another direction.
Who was she? The question was far more pleasant than the one about what his disappearance from the house would do to their eighty-six-year-old grandfather, Hugh Preston. The patriarch of the clan wasn’t always in residence since he liked to indulge his passion for racing by touring the nation’s tracks and betting on new horses with a few of his cronies. But when he settled back into life at Quest Stables, he always made it a point to seek out Robbie and share stories from his days as a young immigrant fresh off the boat from County Clare, Ireland.
His tales of hard work had inspired Robbie his whole life. And instead of looking at Robbie’s hot-headed nature as a defect, Granddad liked to say Robbie simply had inherited the passionate nature of the Irish. The old man’s words had often been a balm during his teenage years when Robbie and his father had been at odds more times than he could count.
“You don’t fight fair,” he complained, wondering how Melanie could have zeroed in so easily on Robbie’s only reservation about moving off the Quest compound.
“With all the stress this family is under lately—especially Granddad at his age—I can’t afford to fight fair.”
Robbie would have liked to argue that Granddad wasn’t growing frail of heart just because the rest of him was aging, but the door to the office opened.
Steeling himself to be civil, Robbie came face to face with the man who’d stolen his future out from under him.
Marcus Vasquez had been raised in Spain and his dark hair and eyes reflected the heritage. He had a reputation as a hardworking, practical man. Even Robbie’s grandfather respected him, so at least Marcus had that much in his favor.
“Marcus.” Robbie thrust out his hand and willed himself not to give in to a primitive urge to crush the guy’s fingers. “Good to have you at Quest.”
“Thank you.” Marcus shook his hand easily, making direct eye contact before he nodded to Melanie. “I’ve enjoyed finding my way around here.”
Instead of being back in Australia running Lochlain Stables where he damn well belonged. When Quest’s previous head trainer, Daniel Whittleson, had left the job to work at Lochlain, he had recommended Marcus as his replacement. Robbie knew that—at thirty-two years old—Marcus wouldn’t be vacating the Quest head trainer position anytime soon.
“I hope you’ll let me know if I can help you with anything. Daniel left during a difficult time, considering the uproar around Leopold’s Legacy.” Until the mystery of Leopold’s Legacy’s parentage was solved, the horse had had to be withdrawn from racing and Quest’s reputation teetered on the verge of ruin.
Hell, their financial stability teetered on the verge of ruin right along with it since their reputation had attracted the owners who paid big fees to have their horses stabled and trained here.
“Daniel and I have spoken extensively.” Marcus’s eyes veered briefly to Melanie’s sock-clad feet. “I think I have things well in hand by now, but I appreciate the offer.”
Beside him, Robbie sensed his sister straighten. Tense.
Hell, she couldn’t be any tenser than him. Was Marcus implying he didn’t need help running the training operation?
“Some of the trainers might have ideas about what approach to take next.” Diplomatically, he did not mention his own opinions. “Now that Legacy is out of racing—”
“There is no reason to believe Legacy is done. The horse was on the verge of a Triple Crown win.”
A muscle kinked in Robbie’s
