Winning Heart. Laura Browning

as she grinned at Rico. “And trust me, I still need a lot of fixing!”

      They both laughed.

      “I see you’ve landed on your feet.”

      Wynter stopped laughing. She knew that voice. Payton Southard, Junior. She felt more than saw Rico vanish into the darkness. Great! Just when she could have used a little moral support, he had disappeared. Squaring her shoulders, she straightened and eyed the older man.

      “Yes, I have. Not that it’s any of your concern.” She felt a surge of confidence. This man was no longer the intimidating influence of the past few years. “I’m paying my own way through Duke, Mr. Southard. Dean’s list, both summer sessions. Can you say the same of your son?”

      “Why you…” he blustered, taking a threatening step forward when a cold, furious voice interrupted.

      “I wouldn’t finish what you’re about to say or do, Southard.”

      She turned to find Nelson standing there, a Nelson she had never seen look so cold. His eyes glittered and his jaw was hard with a fury out of proportion to the situation. He turned to her and softened. “Wynter, Thomas needs you inside. They’re resetting the course for the jump-off.”

      She nodded and walked by him without a word. For once in her life, she feared saying anything. With that look Nelson had become a stranger. After she shut the door, she still heard the voices from outside as they drifted around the gangway where the horses entered. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but the bitter, angry edge was obvious, as was the fact the two men knew each other.

      Wynter found Thomas leaning against the rail, watching while the height on the fences was adjusted. She stood next to him, gaze on the ring and asked, “Thomas, how does Mr. Anderson know Payton Southard, the man I used to work for?”

      He tensed, turning with a slight frown. “Why do you ask?”

      “They’re outside. Mr. Southard stopped to…speak to me. Mr. Anderson came out to get me, and he seemed angry.”

      Thomas glanced at the door behind them. “It’s not my place to tell you. That’s something you’ll have to take up with Nelson.” He seemed anxious when he said, “Stay here, lass, I’ll be right back.”

      Thomas hurried out the door, leaving her to stare after him in confusion. What was going on? When she started to go after him, Olivia Rutledge chose that moment to come down the steps. Wynter smiled, happy to see her, but still worried what was happening outside—and why.

      “What a wonderful ride. I was so concerned when that girl in the front row took that flash picture as you headed to the triple. I hardly dared breathe, but you and Rosie cleared the fence anyway.”

      “Thanks, Miss Olivia.” She glanced over toward where the Southards sat, Payton, Junior joining everyone else. He looked pale, but it could have been a trick of the lighting inside the arena.

      The announcer gave a five-minute warning for the jump-off. It would be short. Just four other horses went clear. Wynter drew the first go. She put her gloves back on and found both Thomas and Nelson behind her. An aura of controlled anger still hung around Nelson. He barely acknowledged the greetings of other riders when they came and went.

      “Warm back up,” Thomas said. He had his game face on now, so Wynter nodded while she tucked stray hair under the helmet and snapped the harness. “Go for clear first, speed second—but don’t dawdle. Like we practiced. Tight, tight turns. Rosie can jump these fences almost from a standstill if you make her believe.”

      The groom brought the mare forward, and Thomas gave Wynter a leg up. She settled into the saddle and turned Rosie on a loose rein while they trotted out to the warm-up ring to loosen things up. Wynter wouldn’t take another fence before the jump-off. The announcer called the class and their names. With a tight smile at everyone gathered near the in gate, she trotted the mare through the opening to the middle of the ring, turned and saluted the judge, then nudged Rosie into a collected canter. Everything else faded as Wynter found the first fence and turned toward it. Seven jumps, laid out in a twisting pattern with two turn backs before a long gallop to the finish. She concentrated on doing just what Thomas had instructed.

      Rosie wasn’t as relaxed as before. Taking a chance, Wynter slowed down a notch, asking for collection. The horse’s ears flicked before she responded.

      “You can do it, Rosie!” she encouraged as they reached the first fence. “Come on, mare. Show them what you’ve got!”

      She did. Collected, ears forward, she powered over the fences then made beautiful tight turns. They approached the last fence, the in gate in sight. It was a high vertical that forced Wynter to resist the temptation to let Rosie flatten out going in, but when they landed, she leaned forward and hissed at the big mare. Rosie leaped forward. They finished with one time fault.

      The groom met them at the gate. Wynter vaulted off Rosie, beaming while she patted her neck. “Thank you, lady.”

      The first person she saw when she turned to the rail was Nelson. For the first time since she’d met him, she saw him smile with pleasure. It lit his blue eyes, banishing the shadows always lingering there. It relieved the lines in his face and made him seem the thirty-two years she now knew him to be.

      “Wynter.”

      Impulsively, she stepped over to the rail and wrapped her arms around his neck. She squeezed him and felt strong arms encircle her, the cane still grasped in one hand while he hugged her back.

      “Thank you!” Wynter released him and looked straight into his eyes, laughing. She looked around at everyone, Thomas, Miss Olivia, and back at Nelson. “Thanks to all of you for giving me a chance.” The last couple of words came out in a sob. “I’m sorry,” Wynter apologized, laughing and crying, and then moved back in embarrassment when she realized Nelson’s arms still held her. Heat burned her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said again, ducking her head.

      Nelson startled her by chuckling.

      “You are a treasure, my dear,” Olivia Rutledge said matter-of-factly. “You have no idea how much.”

      The next horse finished with four faults after pulling the top rail on the last fence. Wynter glanced over her shoulder and said, “I need some air. I can’t stand here and watch the rest of this.”

      She walked down the gangway, crowded with horses and grooms, and stepped around the corner for a breath of cool night air. She glanced up as the door to the spectators’ area opened, and Nelson stepped through. He leaned on his cane. As much exercise as she knew he racked up, tonight was too much and it was beginning to show. She started to say so but thought better of it. He was her boss, and she had no right to say anything to him.

      “Did you need me?” she asked.

      He leaned against the cement wall behind him. “No. But like you, I didn’t want to stand there and watch the rest of the jump-off. When you have a good round, it’s like waiting to see yourself go up in flames.”

      Wynter smiled hesitantly. “That’s what I thought.”

      “You did a great job tonight, Wynter, in case I didn’t already tell you.”

      She looked over at him and asked, “What did you mean earlier when you said you would have been my competition last year?”

      He started to answer when Thomas peered around the corner. “Get in here, girl!” he beamed. “You placed second! Get on your horse and take your victory lap!”

      * * * *

      Could a night get any better than this one? Wynter thought as she showered in the hotel room Miss Olivia had booked.

      The older woman was a firm believer in comfort and spared no expense to make sure she found it. After Wynter’s victory lap, she had whisked the girl into her car and told everyone they would see them in a couple of hours.

      Wynter came out of the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel