Chapter Thirteen
Roper was up at dawn, showered, shaved, and dressed in the work clothes he would change before tonight’s big event. Meanwhile, the day would belong to One in a Million—exercising, feeding, and grooming the big roan for the performance of a lifetime.
Until that performance was over, he would force his thoughts away from anything that might lay ahead.
Sam had been making himself scarce, as if distancing himself for a final decision.
If it came to the worst, Roper would still have the trial to try and prove his innocence.
But his life would be a living hell for as long as it took.
Forcing the thought away, he left the room.
There was no sign of life from across the hall, where Cheyenne was staying with their mother.
Buck Tolson’s room was empty, the door left ajar.
Cheyenne had told him that Buck was sending Fire Dance to his ranch.
Roper had planned to thank the man in person. But for now, that would have to wait.
Downstairs, he took time to sit back, savor the restaurant’s good coffee and listen to the sounds of the world waking up—the clatter of pans from the kitchen, the hum of vacuum cleaners from the casino, the swish of a revolving door. Ordinary sounds that he could be hearing for the last time.
He imagined Lila waking up in her bed, her golden hair a silken web on her pillow, a sleepy little yawn on her face. He would have given anything to spend the night with her—something they’d never done. But her protective daughter was still on guard.
Roper finished his coffee and left cash on the table. Maybe later he would have a meal. But food would be the last thing on his mind today.
In the barn, One in a Million nickered and thrust his elegant head over the gate to greet the man he’d come to accept as his master. Even without his daily grooming, the stallion looked magnificent, bright and alert, his silvery roan coat gleaming in the morning light.
One in a Million was as strong mentally as he was physically, Roper reflected as he stepped into the stall. He’d witnessed the brutal murder of his owner and survived a traumatizing accident. But he remained as calm and wise as ever.
Roper had been reluctant to use him in competition because of his age.
Only Lila had believed in the big roan and urged Roper to show him one last time.
Roper had insisted on borrowing a younger horse—the flashy Fire Dance.
But Lila had been right. This morning, One in a Million appeared ready to take on fifteen of the best horses in the world.
And for this day, nothing else could be allowed to matter.
After some light exercise, Roper gave the stallion a shower. Back in the stall, he was giving him a vigorous rubdown when he heard a voice behind him.
“My, doesn’t he look fine?”
Lila had come into the stall. She stood at Roper’s elbow, a radiant smile on her face. It was all Roper could do to keep from crushing her in his arms. He settled for a brief but tender kiss.
“This is a nice surprise,” he said. “Where’s your bodyguard?”
“Still asleep when I left her. She watched a couple of late movies last night. And Gemma is my daughter, not my babysitter, as I have to remind her. I told her I might pay you a visit this morning.”
“Did Gemma have anything to say about that?”
“I didn’t bother to ask her. And I’m not asking you either. One in a Million is my horse, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Getting sassy are you? You must be feeling better.”
“I am. Much better. I thought I’d celebrate by helping you fancy up our boy here for his big night. When Frank used to show him, I would braid his mane and groom his tail. Didn’t I, big guy?” She stroked the stallion’s withers. He blew and nodded his head as if in agreement.
“I’ll get started now, while his hair is still damp. See, I even packed my own kit.” She took down the canvas pouch she’d slung over her shoulder and opened it. “First, we spray on some detangler. Then the fun begins.”
“Can I help?” Roper asked.
“You can keep him still. But he should be accustomed to having me do this—at least he was.”
One in a Million hadn’t forgotten the routine. He stood patiently while Lila sprayed his damp mane and tail with a detangler. After combing the coarse dark hair to silky smoothness, she trimmed the tail and then started on the mane.
Roper stood back, steadying the stallion’s head and admiring the skill of Lila’s slender hands as they divided the strands into sections and braided them in intricate patterns.
His eyes drank her in—the shape of her profile, the subtle pulse at her throat, the curve of her breasts beneath the thin cotton of her blouse.
He memorized every detail, knowing that it might be all he’d ever have of her.
While she worked, they made small talk, as if today were no different than any other. “What do you think of your chances?” she asked. “Have you sized up the competition?”
“No need for that. The media’s been all over them.
Two previous winners are in the running, as well as a woman who’s the European champion.
One rider has his own TV show, and several others have racked up more than a million dollars in winnings.
Then there are a few hopeful stragglers like me who are hoping for a miracle. Does that answer your question?”
“I suppose so.” She tied off one braid and started another. “But you’ve got the best horse. He was born for this. You’ve got to believe in him—just like I believe in you.”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “Damn it, I love you.”
“But?”
He took a breath, dreading what had to be said. “But I need you to promise me something, Lila.”
Her busy hands paused. She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Promise, and I’ll tell you.”
“That’s not how this works. Tell me, and I’ll think about it.” She went back to braiding, her chin stubbornly set.
“Just this—and it isn’t easy to say. If I’m to be arrested for Frank’s murder, I don’t want you involved in any way.
If you’re called as a witness, you can tell the truth.
Otherwise, I don’t want you implicated. You’re not to visit me; you’re not to talk to my lawyers.
As far as you’re concerned, I was just someone who worked for you. Do you understand?”
With a sharp intake of breath, she spun toward him. Her eyes were blazing. “Who do you think you are, Roper McKenna, that you can tell me what to do? I’m the boss here. And if the worst happens, I intend to fight for you, to my last breath!”
“You’re not listening. It’s for your own good, Lila—for your reputation and for the risk that you could be charged as an accessory. Darrin and Simone always claimed that we were having an affair before Frank died.”
“We both know that isn’t true.”
“Yes, but Mariah was spying for them. She saw us together after Frank’s death. And we both know she isn’t your friend or mine. She could do you some serious damage.”
“I can deal with Mariah.”
“Blast it, Lila, don’t do this to me. I love you, and I need to know that, whatever happens, you’ll be all right. I’ve got enough worries as it is.”
“Then listen to my idea,” she said. “This is Las Vegas. We could get married while we’re here.”
“What the—” Roper flinched as if she’d punched him. Sensing his reaction, the stallion snorted and jerked his head. “If this is a proposal, it’s the craziest one I’ve ever heard of.”
She took up her braiding again, fingers flying.
“Just listen,” she said. “If the worst happens and you’re arrested, you’ll need someone on the outside to fight for you.
Who’s that going to be? Your mother? From what I’ve heard of her, she might not be taken seriously.
Your brothers and sister don’t have the experience to deal with judges and lawyers.
I handled Frank’s business and legal affairs for years.
And I have connections. As your wife, I’d have access to you and your defense—access I wouldn’t have if we weren’t married. ”
“And you couldn’t be called to testify against me,” Roper added. “Not that you’d have anything useful to say.”
“That, too, yes. But—”
“Good Lord, Lila, don’t you realize how that would look? If things were different, I’d marry you in a heartbeat. But this way? No. Absolutely not.”
“Have you got a better idea? I want to help you, Roper. I can’t just sit back and watch you suffer for something you didn’t do.”
She looked up at him from her braiding. The tears welling in her eyes tore at Roper’s heart. She was so desperate to help him. And there was nothing she could do.
With a muttered curse, he opened his arms and drew her fiercely close. As she trembled against him, his terrors tumbled into the open—the false accusations, the wrong verdict, the grim, cold lifetime behind bars, away from this woman he loved more than his life.
“I meant what I told you,” he said. “If I’m arrested, stay away. If I’m convicted, forget me and live your life. That’s the best thing you can do for me.”
She clung to him for a moment, then pushed away, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m a big girl,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I have to do as you say. Whatever happens, when the time comes, there’s just one thing you can count on, Roper McKenna. I will do whatever I damn well please.”
With that, she went back to braiding the stallion’s mane. Her back was ramrod straight, her chin thrust at a stubborn angle. But from where he stood, Roper could see the single silent tear that trickled down her cheek.
Sam treated himself to more coffee and a Danish in the restaurant.
While he waited to sign for the meal, he checked his phone.
He’d made several calls to the sheriff in Wichita Falls.
Each time, he’d left a follow-up message related to the question of Hayden Barr’s alibi and his background.
So far, the messages had gone unanswered.