Leaping Hearts(19)

It looked like a bizarre rendition of Santa’s sleigh, she thought, sliding into the leather bucket seat. And in this case, Rudolph had high beams.

As A.J. headed out between the pillars, she was ready to go straight back to Devlin’s but she paused before getting on the main road as one more complication occurred to her.

She was homeless.

Where was she going to sleep? Her bedroom at the mansion wasn’t any more of an option than it had been the night before. She just couldn’t go back to her father’s house. Not yet. Getting sidetracked by a family that was right out of a Dynasty rerun wasn’t going to help her get through the Qualifier in one piece.

The thought of a hotel filled her with dread. Doing the math in her head, she knew she wouldn’t have much cash left over after she made the transfer from her savings account to cover the check for Sabbath. And she wasn’t going begging to her father.

Her fingers went to work on the diamond as she pondered the situation. With a tight laugh, she found it ironic to be sitting in a Mercedes and worrying about how to pay for things. Abruptly, she considered selling the convertible but shrugged off the idea. She needed a car and knew it was probably in the Sutherland’s name anyway, given Peter’s affinity for business deductions.

Devlin McCloud’s couch had several selling points. It was cheap, close to the stallion and close to the man. The idea of the two of them holed up in that beautiful old farmhouse was captivating. Cool nights, fires in the fireplace. Some wine…

Wait a minute, she told herself. Back up the love bus. Just because the man had offered to train her didn’t mean he was going to have her jumping anything other than fences in the ring. No matter what her libido hoped to the contrary.

A.J. glanced down at her jeans in disgust.

One thing was clear, she decided. Whether it was McCloud’s Unwitting B and B or a motor lodge, she couldn’t spend two months in one set of clothes. The damn things would be walking on their own in a matter of days.

She’d have to go to her father’s house.

Grimacing, she threw the car into drive and traveled the short distance to the mansion.

Looming at the top of a private road, it was a grand house with a formal face, the only home she’d ever known. She treasured the place but couldn’t say that she liked living there. What she valued were the few memories she had of her mother from Christmases in the gracious library, Fourth of July parties down by the pond, Easter-egg hunts in the terraced gardens. But all that was in the past. The recent day-to-day existence she’d known wasn’t easy.

As she turned the car off, she was hoping her luck would hold and Regina would still be getting dressed in the master suite. If everything went smoothly, she’d be able to run in, grab her things and be out before anyone knew.

Her prayers weren’t answered.

Just as A.J. reached the last of the marble steps leading to the grand entrance, her stepmother wrenched open the ornate front door. That in and of itself was unusual and A.J. knew she was about to get an earful.

Standing ominously in the doorway, Regina was dressed in one of her perfectly tailored suits, a diamond pin flickering on her collar like a constellation of stars. The subtle peach color of the outfit set off her dramatic coloring, highlighting her coiffed black hair and dark eyes. It also emphasized the woman’s angry flush.

“You’ve done it this time,” she said. “Your father is in bed with a stomachache, Peter has had to take the day off to get a massage and my dinner party tonight is going to be ruined because of all the tension in this house. I hope you’re happy!”

This was exactly why she couldn’t stay at the mansion, A.J. thought.

She tried to get through the door but Regina blocked the way.

“How you can be so selfish is beyond me. Your father has given you everything you’ve ever wanted and you’ve consistently repaid him with heartache.”

“Look, I’m honestly sorry he’s upset,” A.J. said, faking left and scooting into the house. Heading quickly through the grand foyer to the winding staircase, she hit the stairs two at a time, leaving her stepmother to shout up at her.

“What time are you coming home tonight? The guests are arriving at seven and we will be sitting down for dinner at eight. I don’t want you showing up in your barn clothes in the middle of the soup course like you did last weekend.”

The woman was still fuming at the foot of the stairs when A.J. reappeared ten minutes later with her luggage.

“What are you doing with those?” Regina demanded.

“I’m going to be gone for a little while.”

“What do you mean gone?”

“As in not here.” A.J. walked past her stepmother, who suddenly seemed all too pleased to get out of the way.

“What should I tell your father?”

“Nothing. He already knows. I’ll phone him soon. Just tell Papa I’ll call him.”

“You can believe I will,” Regina said, softly. She appeared to be mulling things over and liking what she saw in a future that included less of her stepdaughter.

With a final nod, A.J. disappeared from the grand house. Cramming her bags on top of the equipment pile, she took off down the driveway, deep in thought.

This is my life. I’m choosing this. I’m free.

She felt stronger than she ever had, more sure than ever about her decision to buy the stallion and move away from her family’s influence. When she pulled up to Devlin’s stable, she leapt from the car, ready to take on the world. With an armload of leather and brass, she hurried inside, bound for the tack room.