he said. “I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have gone off the way I did. That was uncalled-for.”
“It’s okay,” she told him. “I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. I just…”
“What?” he asked.
But she only shook her head and left that statement unfinished, too.
Daniel sighed again. “I’m sorry,” he said, more calmly this time. “I’m just worried about my dad, and I haven’t gotten much sleep since the police called me, and the trip from Kentucky was grueling.”
Her lips parted in a little half smile at that, and she seemed to relax at the change of subject. “You’re living in Kentucky now?”
He nodded, equally grateful for another topic, if for no other reason than it took his mind off his father for a few minutes. “In Woodford County. I’m the senior trainer for Quest Stables. It’s owned by—”
“Jenna and Thomas Preston,” she finished for him.
The fact she knew surprised him. “You’re familiar with it?”
“Anyone who’s ever worked with horses is familiar with it,” she told him. “Maybe I wasn’t raised around Thoroughbreds, but the equestrian world isn’t exactly a big one.”
He eyed her intently. “I didn’t think you rode anymore.”
She eyed him back just as interestedly. “How did you know that?”
Oh, hell. He knew that because he’d met a woman a year or so after Del Mar who’d remembered encountering Daniel and Marnie at a restaurant there, and had remarked what a cute couple the two had made. She’d turned out to be a friend of Marnie’s mother and had mentioned that Marnie had given up riding, not just competitively, but completely. Daniel had never discovered why, because he’d manufactured an excuse to extract himself from the conversation before the woman could fill him in on any more about Marnie’s life. He’d finally reached a point by then where he wasn’t thinking about her every day and hadn’t wanted to lose ground.
For now, though, he only said, “I ran into a friend of your mother’s at a party in Ocala a while back, and she mentioned it.”
Marnie nodded, but didn’t seem to want to revisit the past any more than he did. She continued, rather hastily, “Not to mention Quest is the home of Leopold’s Legacy, who’s about to win the Triple Crown. And with a woman jockey, no less. But you didn’t train him,” she added, sounding a little surprised at that.
Maybe she didn’t ride anymore, but it was obvious she was still interested in the horse world. He shook his head. “No, the Prestons’ son Robbie trained Legacy.”
“Leopold’s Legacy is all over the news with the Belmont Stakes so close. I would have known where you were if I’d heard you were his trainer.”
And why did she sound as if she might have liked to know where he was? More to the point, why did it make him feel kind of good to think that might be the case?
Lack of sleep, he told himself. It did funny things to a person.
Which must have been the only reason he heard himself say, “Dad’s sleeping, and I haven’t eaten anything since this afternoon. Do you want to go down to the coffee shop and grab a late dinner?”
What the hell was he doing? Inviting Marnie to get a bite to eat? Thinking she’d actually accept him? Forget sleep deprivation. He was suffering from sleep delusion. Or maybe it was just as she’d said—that he was grateful to see a familiar face when he was going through such a stressful situation so far from home.
Incredibly, Marnie didn’t decline the invitation. She seemed about to, then, suddenly, she smiled. A smile that was equal parts happiness and melancholy, hope and regret. It was less the smile of the happy-go-lucky girl he’d known in San Diego, and more the smile of a wiser, more seasoned woman.
Finally, she said, “I haven’t had dinner yet, either. A bite to eat sounds good.”
What the hell was she doing?
As Marnie strode with Daniel through the halls of Elias Memorial Hospital, she asked herself that question and a dozen others. Why was she being so nice to him after the way he’d left her in Del Mar? Where was the outrage she was supposed to be feeling for the man who had dumped her? Why was she genuinely curious about what he’d been doing for the past eight years? Why didn’t she hate him? But hovering above all those questions was an even more important one: Why hadn’t she told him yet her real reason for being here?
She’d had hours on the plane between San Diego and Sydney to think about their upcoming meeting. But as she’d tried to figure out how she felt about Daniel Whittleson now and plan their inevitable meeting accordingly, she’d been inundated by memories of the past. When she’d finally landed in Australia, she’d had no plan of attack and felt more confused than when she’d left home.
Ultimately, she’d been forced to admit that she didn’t know how she felt about Daniel Whittleson now. She wasn’t the same person she’d been eight years ago. So much had happened since the last time she saw him, things that had changed her very core. Her father’s business had failed less than a year after her week with Daniel, something that had sent her family into a tailspin. Virtually overnight, Marnie had gone from rich to poor, from frivolous to serious, from party girl to working girl. There had been times during the trans-Pacific flight when she’d felt as if she didn’t know Daniel Whittleson at all. Not as the Marnie Roberts she was now.
After he’d left San Diego, she’d told herself that if she ever ran into him again, she’d be civil but cool. Show him that she’d put the past behind her and moved on, but that she didn’t quite forgive him for what he’d done. Instead, tonight, she’d been nervous and uncertain…and accommodating. She’d even accepted an invitation to join him for dinner. What was the matter with her?
But more important than any of that, she still hadn’t told him the reason she was in Hunter Valley. That was, after all, why she’d gone to the hospital. That and to inquire about Sam’s condition. She may have been unsure about many things with regard to Daniel, but there had been one decision she had made on the flight—to tell him immediately that she was working for Louisa Fairchild. And she’d thought it might be easier to talk to him if she went to see him as Marnie Roberts, an old acquaintance—for lack of a better word—instead of Marnie Roberts, representative of Division International, working on behalf of the woman who’d shot his father. She’d thought he might be more likely to listen to what she had to say in a less-confrontational atmosphere like the hospital than an office environment, or even his father’s house.
She’d worried, too, that Daniel wouldn’t agree to see her if she tried to set up an appointment as Louisa’s representative. And all right, she’d also thought that maybe by catching him off guard, he might be more amenable to a dialogue about the shooting that didn’t involve criminal charges.
What she hadn’t thought was that seeing him again would rouse all those old feelings from eight years ago. And not the bad ones like her turmoil at his panicked departure from her condo when he realized he was late for the race. Or, worse, the sickness that overcame her when she found his letter in her mailbox that evening after returning from the track to look for him—and not finding him. Those were the memories that should have risen most quickly, because those were the ones that had hurt so much.
Instead,
