The Blackstone Promise Read online

  Sheldon gave her a direct stare. His last physical indicated he was in excellent health for a man his age. He stood six-one and weighed one-ninety, and with a break in the hot weather he’d begun the practice of leaving his truck in the driveway and walking more.

  Sheldon and Renee regarded each other with a waiting that hadn’t been there before. Again, Renee felt uneasy, as if she were a specimen under a powerful microscope. She did not know the owner of Blackstone Farms and she did not want to come to know him—at least not beyond an employer-employee relationship.

  She would live in Sheldon’s house until her bungalow was habitable, organize and computerize years of paperwork that had been done manually and come spring she hoped to deliver a healthy son or daughter. She refused to plan beyond the time her child would go from the farm’s infant center to its preschool and subsequently to the day school.

  Sheldon blinked as if coming out of a trance. “I’d better go and get your bags.”

  His deep, soothing voice shattered the silence between them, and Renee nodded in agreement. She stood in the same spot until pressure on her bladder forced her to retreat to the bathroom.

  When she returned to the bedroom she spied her bags. Two sat on the floor next to a closet, while the largest rested on a whitewashed wooden bench at the foot of the bed. Sheldon had carried up all three bags in one trip where it would have taken her at least two, maybe three.

  There was no doubt he was physically fit; he was tall, broad-shouldered with a trim waist and hips. It was the first time she’d encountered a man whose magnificent physique matched his face. Sheldon Blackstone was drop-dead gorgeous.

  Slipping off her shoes, she decided to shower before eating. She would have to forgo what had become a regularly scheduled afternoon nap. There were times when she’d felt so exhausted that she could not keep her eyes open, but thank goodness up till now she hadn’t experienced morning sickness.

  The reality that she was to become a mother had changed her outlook on life. Everything she did and every decision she made was predicated on the tiny life growing inside her.

  There had been a time when she was forced to give up her dream to graduate from law school. After her father drank himself into an early grave, she went to work to help supplement her mother’s meager income. But her dream of graduating college was delayed for more than a decade. It had taken her six years as a part-time student, but she did it. She now held a degree in pre-law.

  Renee closed her eyes and smiled. Live for today, and let tomorrow take care of itself. That had been her mother’s mantra, and it was now hers.

  Chapter Two

  Sheldon drove past the area where a large white tent had been erected for the evening’s pre-race festivities. Dozens of tables were covered in white linen; folding chairs, swathed white organza tied with either black or red satin ribbon, represented the farm’s silks.

  It had been several years since Blackstone Farms had hosted a pre-race gala. This year was different because Ryan and Jeremy had decided to enter Shah Jahan in the International Gold Cup race.

  The Thoroughbred had become the farm’s racing secret, along with its jockey. Seeing diminutive Cheryl Carney astride the magnificent black colt never failed to make Sheldon’s heart stop whenever horse and rider crossed the finish line. Cheryl’s uncle and head trainer, Kevin Manning, had clocked Jahan at one minute, fifty-nine and one-fifth seconds for a mile and a quarter—the distance run by three-year-olds in the Kentucky Derby. The record was one-fifth second faster than Secretariat’s fastest winning time in Derby history.

  Sheldon took a right turn and headed for the stables. He maneuvered into a space between his sons’ SUVs. He left his truck and walked into the veterinarian’s office.

  “Isn’t it a little early for celebrating?” he asked at the same time Ryan and Jeremy touched glasses filled with an amber liquid.

  Dr. Ryan Blackstone smiled at his father. He lifted his glass. “Not early enough. Jeremy has good news for you.”

  Jeremy shifted on his chair and smiled at his father. “Tricia and I just got back from the doctor. She’s pregnant.”

  Sheldon’s smile matched his youngest son’s. He pumped his fist in the air and howled, “Boo-yaw! Give me some of that sissy stuff you’re about to drink. Once you come over to my place I’ll give you a shot of my special blend.”

  “No, Pop!”

  “Oh, hell no.”

  Jeremy and Ryan had protested in unison.

  “I know someone at ATF whom I’m certain would like to test your so-called special blend,” Jeremy teased with a wide grin.

  Frowning, Sheldon shook his head. “I can’t believe my boys have gone soft on me.”

  Ryan reached for the bottle of bourbon in a cabinet behind his desk and poured a small amount into a glass for Sheldon. His dark gray eyes crinkled in amusement. “You can keep that special blend. I’d rather drink something that doesn’t double as paint thinner or drain cleaner.”

  Sheldon’s expression softened. He was proud of Jeremy and Ryan. It hadn’t been easy trying to raise his two adolescent boys after Julia died. That time had been a low point in his life because he’d worked around the clock to keep the horse farm solvent while attempting to provide emotional support for his grieving children.

  Ryan had become a veterinarian. He’d returned to the farm to start his practice. It had taken Jeremy fourteen years, a four-year stint in the Marine Corps and a brief career as a special agent for the Drug Enforcement Administration before he’d settled down on the farm. After recuperating from an injury he’d sustained several months before during an undercover mission in South America, Jeremy had reconnected with his childhood sweetheart, Tricia Parker. Now he and Tricia would give Sheldon his third grandchild.

  The three men touched glasses. Ryan and Jeremy took furtive sips while Sheldon tossed back his drink in one swallow. He set the glass down on the desk.

  “Next time buy something that doesn’t taste like Kool-Aid.”

  Ryan frowned from under lowered lids. “There’s nothing wrong with this bourbon.”

  Sheldon rolled his eyes at Ryan and straddled a corner of the large desk. “Renee Wilson arrived about an hour ago,” he said without preamble.

  Jeremy sat up straighter. “How did she take the news that she would have to live with you until her place is renovated?”

  Sheldon shrugged a shoulder, the gesture quite elegant for a man his size. “I suspect she wasn’t too happy about it, but she didn’t show it.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Ryan propped his booted feet on his desk and stared directly at his father. “Jeremy told me you cussed a blue streak when he suggested she live with you.”

  Sheldon glared at Jeremy. “You talk too much.”

  Jeremy returned the glare. “Well, you did, Pop. You said words I hadn’t heard since Ryan and I were kids.” There had been a time when he’d used foul language because he’d heard his father use it. He paid for the infractions whenever his mother washed his mouth with lye soap. But that ended once Julia Blackstone passed away. Jeremy stopped cursing and Sheldon stopped talking. Days would go by before he would utter a single word.

  “Would you like to hear a few more?” Sheldon asked.

  Jeremy held up a hand and shook his head. “No, thank you. What do you think of Renee?”

  “If you’re asking me whether she’s qualified for the job, only time will tell.”

  A flash of humor glinted in Jeremy’s smoky gray eyes. “Personally I think she’s rather cute.”

  Sheldon gave his youngest son an incredulous stare. “Is that why you hired her? Because she’s cute?”

  Jeremy sobered quickly. “No. I hired her because she’s qualified. In fact, her skills are exceptional. So much so that I wonder why she’d leave a position wh
ere she earned twice what we are going to pay her to live on a horse farm.”

  “Only time will tell,” Sheldon responded. Perhaps she’s hiding from something or someone, he added silently. “Is Jahan ready for tomorrow?” he asked, deftly changing the topic.

  He did not want to think about Renee Wilson, because like Jeremy, he, too, found her cute—very cute and quite sexy. The last woman he’d found that cute and sexy he’d married… .

  “He’s as ready as he will ever be,” Ryan answered, bringing Sheldon’s thoughts back to the present. “Cheryl had him on the track with three other horses a little while ago, and for the first time he didn’t seem so skittish around them. In fact he was very calm once he was led into the gate.”

  Sheldon stood up. “Make certain Kevin knows he’s not to race him without blinkers.” Kevin Manning had been Blackstone Farms’ head trainer for the past fifteen years.

  “We have everything under control, Pop,” Ryan said curtly.

  Sheldon recognized the thread of irritation creeping into Ryan’s voice. Ryan thought he was being controlling again. “I’m going back to the house to get ready. I’ll see you later.” Leaning over, he patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “Congratulations, son.”

  Jeremy raised his glass in a salute. “Thanks, Pop.”

  Sheldon glanced at his watch as he climbed the porch steps. He had an hour to ready himself before the residents from neighboring farms arrived for the social event that usually preceded a premier race.

  He walked into the house, and felt her presence immediately. It had been a long time, since Jeremy and Ryan moved into their own homes less than a quarter of a mile away, since he’d shared his roof with another person.

  He headed for the staircase, but then hesitated when he heard voices. Retracing his steps he walked towards the rear of the house. A slow smile softened his mouth. Renee lay sprawled on a chaise, asleep. A pair of blue sweatpants and an oversize T-shirt had replaced her tailored attire. The radio on a table blared a popular love song.

  Soft lighting from a floor lamp flattered her delicate features. Sheldon moved closer until he stood directly over Renee. Her face, relaxed in sleep, appeared so peaceful, angelic.

  Who are you? Why are you here? The two questions came to his mind unbidden.

  He reached out and touched her shoulder. Her eyes opened and she came awake immediately. Her gaze widened until he could see the dark centers in a pair of heavily lashed eyes that were the color of rich golden sherry. Why hadn’t he noticed their odd color before?

  Smiling, Sheldon straightened. “I’m sorry to wake you, but you need to get ready for tonight’s party.”

  Renee sat up and combed her fingers through her mussed hair. “What party?”

  The lingering effects of sleep had lowered her voice until it was a velvety purr. Why, he asked himself again, hadn’t he also noticed the sultriness of her voice? But he knew the answer even before his mind had formed the questions. It was because he did not want to be reminded that he missed female companionship. He had become so accustomed to living alone that he’d let loose with a string of virulent expletives he hadn’t uttered in years the moment Jeremy suggested their new employee live with him until her bungalow was repaired.

  “Blackstone Farms is hosting a pre-race party. One of our Thoroughbreds will be racing for the first time tomorrow afternoon.”

  Renee swung her sock-covered feet to the floor. “How often do you host these parties?”

  “It’s been two years since we hosted the last one. But if Jahan wins, then we’ll hold a post-race celebration Sunday afternoon.”

  She stood up. “Do you expect him to win?”

  “There is no doubt he’ll win, although the odds are 12-to-1 against him.”

  “I know nothing about betting on horses.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

  She shook her head. “That’s okay. I’d rather not.”

  “Are you opposed to gambling?”

  Renee gave Sheldon a long, penetrating stare. A momentary look of discomfort crossed her face and filled her eyes. “Yes, because my father was an alcoholic and a gambler. A very lethal combination. He had a wife and children who needed his support.”

  The moment Renee had mentioned her father she was unable to conceal her vulnerability, and Sheldon’s protective instincts surfaced without warning. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until her pain eased. However, he would not act on his impulse, because he doubted whether she would accept the gesture.

  “There’s nothing wrong with gambling or drinking, if done in moderation,” he countered gently.

  “Moderation wasn’t in my father’s vocabulary.”

  “You don’t gamble or drink.” His question was a statement.

  “I drink occasionally.”

  Sheldon smiled. “If Shah Jahan wins tomorrow, will you share a glass of champagne with me?”

  Renee shook her head. “I can’t.”

  He sobered. “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “I can’t,” she repeated.

  “Does it have anything to do with you working for me?”

  It should only be that easy, Renee thought. She hadn’t disclosed her physical condition to Jeremy during her interview, yet knew it was only a matter of time before her pregnancy became evident.

  “It has nothing to do with our employee-employer status.” He raised a questioning eyebrow once she paused. “I am going to have a baby.”

  Her explanation hit Sheldon in the face with the force of a stone propelled from a slingshot. “You’re pregnant?”

  She nodded. “I’ve just begun my fourth month.”

  His gaze swept over her chest before dropping to her belly as if he could see under the cotton fabric to see her expanding waistline. “What about your husband?” The farm’s employment application had been revised to exclude age and marital status.

  Renee was hard-pressed not to laugh at Sheldon’s shocked expression. “I’m not married. My baby’s father was already married.”

  “You slept with a married man?” he asked, his tone coolly disapproving.

  Pulling back her shoulders, Renee faced him down. “I didn’t know he was married. Not until I came home early from a business trip and found a woman in my bed with the man whom I thought I would eventually marry.”

  A myriad of emotions crossed Sheldon’s handsome face. “Does he know about the baby?”

  “No.” The single word was emphatic.

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “No,” she repeated.

  “He has a right to know that you’re carrying his child.”

  Renee took a step closer to Sheldon, close enough to detect the lingering scent of his aftershave, close enough to see the stubble of an emerging beard on his angular jaw.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. He forfeited that right when he conveniently neglected to tell me he’d married a Las Vegas showgirl when he’d attended a trade show convention there. I’d left Florida before I knew I was pregnant, and I have no intention of returning or contacting him. I don’t need him for child support, so that lets him off the hook financially.”

  Sheldon saw a different woman than the one who had stepped out of her car only a few hours before. Under the delicate exterior was an inner strength that was not apparent at first glance.

  She had come to Blackstone Farms to work and live, yet had not come alone. Now he understood why she sought out a position that offered on-site child care. A knowing smile touched his mobile mouth as he recalled the number of babies born to longtime employees who were now a part of the farm’s extended family. His daughter-in-law Tricia had been a Blackstone Farms baby.

  “I’ll call the contractor Monday and have him add another be
droom to your bungalow.”

  Renee looked at Sheldon in astonishment, her jaw dropping. “Why?” The query came out in a breathless whisper.

  Her reaction to his offer amused Sheldon. “Every child needs his or her own room, a place to call their own.”

  A dimpled smile curved her lush mouth. “You’re right. Thank you, Sheldon.”

  He gave her a direct stare. “Your thanks may be a little premature, because I’m a hard taskmaster, Renee. You’ll only have three months to bring Blackstone Farms into the twenty-first century. Everything, and that includes payroll and purchase orders, has been done manually for thirty years. And that translates into thousands of pieces of paper. Jeremy wants the farm’s revenue and expenses computerized before he takes over in January.

  “If you need someone to assist you on a temporary basis, just ask. More importantly, if you don’t understand something, ask questions.” His expression softened, his gaze as tender as a caress. “I may bark a lot, but I’ve never been known to bite.”

  Within minutes Renee recognized a maddening hint of arrogance in the owner of Blackstone Farms, but there was something in his manner that soothed rather than agitated her. There was no doubt they would be able to live and work together.

  “I’ll make certain to remember that.”

  He smiled again. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to get ready for a party.”

  She returned his smile. “I’ll be ready by seven.”

  Renee still saw the broad shoulders under a pale blue denim shirt as she leaned over to turn off the radio. The enclosed back porch was the ideal workspace. Screened-in floor-to-ceiling windows faced the southeast. There would be an abundance of light during daylight hours. The area where she sat on the chaise had a wrought-iron table with seating for two, an entertainment center and an adjoining half bath. She could work, eat and relax without leaving the porch.

  She would take the weekend to settle in, acquaint herself with the layout of the farm and its residents, before she began the task she’d been hired to do Monday morning.