Connie was about to leave for Oaklawn when the jangle of the phone pulled her back into the room.

"Connie, this is Nate. Is Blythe there?"

"Hi, Nate. No. I was hoping she'd be with you. Haven't you seen her or did she chicken out and just leave the note?" Connie heard a deep sigh on the other end and it was seconds before he answered.

"I saw her, but it's a long story. I'll try to make it short. Just promise not to ask any questions until I've finished." The anxiety was clear in his voice as he added, "I've got to find her, Connie. I've got to."

She sat on the bed, expecting the worst. "Let me have it. And don't sugarcoat anything."

Nate told her everything as briefly as he could. "She must have dropped the note when she hit me."

"She hit you?" There was disbelief in her voice then a pause. "Well good for her. I don't blame her!"

"I'm not looking for sympathy, okay? If she hadn't dropped it, I'd still be searching for you. I told her there was no one in my life. That was true. I never said I was a monk. Rene's another story and..."

"Save it! Where is the dear now?" Connie asked cynically.

"I sent her home where she should have stayed. The important thing is I have to find Blythe before it's too late. I was afraid she'd be packed and on a plane by now."

"No, we have a deal. I'll explain later. I'm supposed to meet her at the races. Give me some time, say till about three then meet me at the track around the paddock. I'll find you. Can you make it?"

Nate glanced at his watch. "I'll make it."

#

Connie Bledsoe caught Nate as he was about to approach Blythe who stood in a crowd of people clustered around the paddock watching the horses being paraded before the fifth race. The petite woman rested a small hand on Nate's back and getting his attention shook her head in warning.

"Let's get a drink. We need to talk," she said and leading him from the throng, noticed his eyes stray back in search of Blythe.

Drinks in hand and seated midway up the grandstand, Connie sought to reassure him. "Blythe'll be alright. I know where she's sitting."

"Who's the guy hangin' all over her?" His voice was uneasy, his expression dark.

"Don't look so foreboding. She's not in bed with him and she's not ever going to be." Nate started to defend himself but Connie stopped him. "Listen, we don't have time to go into any long explanations or recriminations. Save them for Blythe. The guy's just some poor slob she picked up. He thinks she's lucky. He's probably just like all the rest and wants to get in her pants. But don't worry. She won't leave with him. She never does."

The stands began to roar as the horses came into the stretch. They both stood to see over the multitude of heads as hoofs trampled the dirt beneath the finish line, neither caring much about the outcome. People milled about then, some leaving to collect their winnings, others to sit in sullen disappointment, while laughter and disgusted moans blended into a hum through the gathering. When the noise died down, Nate and Connie resumed their conversation.

He was skeptical as he asked, "How can you be so positive she's not going to get hooked up with this man?"

Connie laughed. "Because, my dear boy, I've known her my whole life and she simply isn't interested. When she has a few drinks, which by the way she has, she likes to flirt. But the truth is that under it all, she really doesn't give a damn and for some reason, men usually find that irresistible."

"She doesn't give a damn about what—sex, an involvement, a relationship, men in general—what?"

"Blythe has never been in love. Not ever! Maybe she doesn't enjoy sex without love. Maybe you need to find these things out from her. I just thought you should know she's had a lot to drink and is in a hell of a bitchy mood. You ignited a spark in her I didn't think existed. I don't think she did either. So, it hit her hard and she felt like a fool in that hotel hallway today. She's even more belligerent than normal.

"I also wanted to warn you, whatever happens, do not do anything to hurt her. Ever! I pushed her into this and feel responsible. So if you plan on using her, walk away. I mean it, Mr. Stevens, walk away now!"

The bubbly cordial woman in Connie had been replaced by a deadly serious one and Nate felt confusion mingle with the curiosity that was consuming him.

"You make her sound so..." he hesitated in search of the right word.

"So complicated?"

He nodded.

"She is! But she's also one of the kindest people I've ever known. She might tease and play games, but she would never purposely hurt anyone. She's tearing herself apart over this divorce thing and she shouldn't. David knew what he was getting himself into...that she wasn't really in love with him. He wanted her anyway, even under those circumstances. She never lied to him, told him from the beginning, 'be careful what you want.'"

Nate smiled. "She said the exact same thing to me."

#

Clouds swiftly tumbled in and the sky grew a dreary gray that matched Nate's mood. He had gotten no pertinent information from Connie, only warnings and talking in circles. The common sense part of him said to turn around and get out while the getting was good. But the emotional side spurred him onward through the spectators to the fence in front of the finish line.

Blythe was there as Connie had predicted. Her back was to him and he watched as she threw remnants of torn betting tickets into the air before resuming her coquettish behavior, her companion obviously enthralled by every compliment, smile and touch.

Nate couldn't have stopped himself now if he'd wanted to and approached, possessively taking Blythe by the arm. Her eyes shot up to his face as a rakish smile twisted his lips. Giving her no chance to speak, he chastised her, "I think you've had enough fun at this poor man's expense, darlin'. Come on now, we've got to get home. The kids'll be anxious about us and your mom'll be pissed as hell if we don't take them off her hands."

"Are you crazy?" she hissed, trying to tear her arm free.

Ignoring her, Nate increased the pressure and directed his attention to the man who stood dumbfounded, unable to do more than stare at them in disbelief. "Please excuse my wife. I let her go off occasionally to do some harmless flirting, especially when she's had too much to drink..." He hesitated as Blythe gasped in outrage. He grinned down at her then looked back at the man and gave him a conspiratorial wink. "It's kind of good for the self-confidence," his grin broadened as he added, "particularly at her age. You know how women are, fragile egos and all. Kind of perks them up and adds a little spice in the bedroom."

Blythe looked on in amazement as the man nodded his vast understanding of the female species and bowed out without a word, glancing back over his shoulder only once as he scurried off. When she turned back to Nate, he was staring at her, eyes reflecting his amusement.

Viciously, she jerked her arm from his grasp. "The kids will be anxious about us?" she asked incredulous. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was struck by the humor of the situation and remembering the astounded look on the man's face, couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled out in earthy streams.

Nate welcomed this unexpected reaction and a sense of relief washed over him, unleashing the pent up tension he'd felt since early in the day and he joined in with a hearty chuckle.

When Blythe settled down, she shot him a sly sidelong look then stared out at the track, unable to face him. "I need to apologize. I made an absolute ass of myself at your hotel. It wasn't your fault. I knew better than to come but I let Connie talk me into it."

"Don't blame her. I'm glad she did. It's nobody's fault. I wanted you to come, but I sure as hell didn't mean for it to turn out like this."

He edged close behind her yet not touching. His senses were filled with her; the scent of her freshly washed hair as it fell in abandoned curls, the dampness that hung heavily in the air giving it a life of its own, the faint sound and smell of the black leather jacket, a stark canvas for her burnished copper tresses. The sound of her voice and laughter still echoed in his mind.

"Come with me," he whispered. Turning to go, he knew she would follow and found a secluded spot where they could talk. "I want to tell you about Rene...the woman you saw. I want you to understand what—"

"Don't! I don't want to know. It's none of my business," Blythe said, looking away.

"You're gonna listen if I have to hold you here." He waited for a reply but she offered none. "I've known Rene a long time, way before the singing thing. She's been a friend, that's all."

Blythe gave a supercilious laugh. "I think possibly a little more than just a friend. They have a name for that kind of friend. Excuse my French but I believe they're called fuckbuddies." She stared him squarely in the eyes.

"Yeah, like your husband became a little more than just a friend," he retorted, giving her a cocky grin then held his breath until one corner of her mouth tilted up. "Look, evidently like your husband, Rene loves me or at least claims to. But I didn't lie to you when I said my mother was the only woman in my life. I don't love Rene. She's safe is all there is to it. She's been there for me, helped with my mother, befriended her, and I care about her deeply because of that.

"She's always hoped we'd get married and the truth is that I was considering it until I met you. Then I realized how unimportant she was, that Heathe was right, it would have been the biggest mistake of my life. I think you can appreciate what it means to marry someone who's in love with you when  you're not in love with them."

Blythe was unwavering. "You really don't need to say these things."

"Yes, I do. It's important to me, even if it's not to you. Believe what you want but I meant it when I asked you to meet me here. I had no idea Rene would show up. When you hadn't come, I'd already decided to go to Dallas and try finding you. Rene was waiting for me when I got back to the hotel last night...her idea of a surprise. I did sleep with her. I'm not gonna lie. She's a beautiful woman. You saw her. But there was no emotional commitment in it. There never has been. For all I knew, I'd never see you again. I'd given up thinking you'd come."

She looked at him for the first time since he'd begun his confession. "And is the beautiful lady still waiting for you?"

"I told her the truth. That I could never go through with marrying her. I was going after the woman she'd just seen slap the hell out of me and whether I found you or not, there was no future for us."

"A tad bit cold, don't you think?"

"You're so big on honesty, should I have led her on?"

"No...I suppose not. Sounds like she's dangled long enough," Blythe said mockingly. "You know, it really isn't very wise though, burning your bridges before you've made it safely to the other side." And a dimpled grin lit eyes mischievous once more.

#

Blythe and Nate decided to stay for the final race, a silent truce drawn between them. Finding Connie, Blythe apologized for her nasty behavior and when they returned to a waiting Nate, the horses were already being led onto the track.

"Oh, look! Did you see number nine? She's gorgeous! Solid black, not a marking on her! What's her name?" Blythe asked excitedly.

Connie glanced at her program. "His name is Thunderboomer."

"Thunderboomer," Blythe repeated whimsically, "it's perfect. Do I have time to place a bet?"

"Darlin', have you seen the racing forms?" Nate questioned, looking through the stack Connie had handed him. "He's practically guaranteed to run a dead last. Hasn't anyone ever told you beauty isn't everything?"

"No," Blythe answered peevishly as she squinted up at him.

Nate pointed at the screen on the large board across the track. "See those odds...thirty-five to one. They call that a longshot."

"What's the point of gambling if there's no risk involved? Besides," Blythe added lightly, reminding him of a spoiled child, "it's only money."

"Which only means something if you've had to go without it," he pointed out.

She shrugged and was about to trudge up the long flight of stairs to the betting window when Nate stopped her. "I'll go. You stay here with Connie. How much?"

She handed him a fifty dollar bill. "All of it...to win."

"This all?" Nate teased. "I'd have thought since it's only money..."

"Oh, don't be so snide. It's all I have on me."

"Blythe!" Connie gasped in astonishment. "What happened to the rest?"

"I lost it, okay?"

Nate would have liked to hear the outcome of their discussion but there was no time and he rushed off to place her bet.

The bugle was already sounding when he returned and handed Blythe the ticket. She gave him a hurried "thanks" then focused her attention on the horses as the gates were thrown open. In seconds, the sound of hoofs thrashing the earth mingled with the noise of the excited crowd. From the start the black horse was lengths behind the others but as they came around the turn heading for the stretch, Thunderboomer extended his long muscular legs...an ebony Pegasus with invisible wings carrying him past the other horses to come from behind and take the lead.

Blythe was on her feet screaming when Nate calmly fanned five one-hundred dollar win tickets in front of her face, forcing her eyes from the track for a split second then back in time to see the black demon glide beneath the finish line, lengths ahead of the others.

Blythe squealed in delight and grabbed the winning tickets from Nate's hand before unexpectedly jumping into his arms. He whirled her round and round, laughing with her, caught up in the frenzy of her elation. When he quit spinning, she still clung to him and he searched her face, not wanting to release her. But giving him a sisterly kiss on the forehead, Blythe broke the spell and squirmed to be set down. It was then he became aware of the portly man on their left who had them under close scrutiny, a look of disdain creasing his chubby face.

"You win?" the man asked, raising bushy eyebrows.

His sarcasm was not lost on the couple who broke into joyful laughter again as Nate deposited Blythe soundly on her feet. Gazing down at her, he winked. "Yeah, we won," he answered, leading Blythe blissfully off to collect their winnings, "but it's only money."

#

Connie and Blythe attended Nate's last performance in Hot Springs, this time backstage. They stayed on to hear Chance Jennings and Nate's duet with him then later through the autograph session. Plans had already been made and everyone met at Nathan's suite for drinks. Blythe, however, couldn't help the uneasiness that crept over her as she politely talked to Chance and Heathe Conners, both of whom sat on the edge of the sea green bed. She felt anything but polite as images of Nate making love, rolling around on the king-size mattress with his raven haired friend flashed through her mind, causing her to lose track of the conversation. The cordial chatter became increasingly more annoying until she had to excuse herself and step into the hall for fresh air, passing Nate who was in a deep discussion with some of the band members.

Hearing the soft sound of the door dragging on the carpet as it opened and closed, Blythe intuitively knew it was Nate and leaning against the hall's mauve wall, she waited.

When he reached her, he rested a palm against the wall above her shoulder and loomed over her. "It seems like I'm always havin' to apologize. You must be uncomfortable. I knew this was a bad idea but there wasn't much I could do about it. It's the last night of the tour. This will be the first break most of us have had in ages and there's stuff we had to go over before everyone went their separate ways." He paused searching her eyes. "I've decided not to go directly back to Dallas. I'm gonna take Chance up on his offer of the condo in Mexico."

Dismissing the last statement, Blythe smiled sweetly. "I'm a big girl. You don't have to keep worrying about me. I was just hot. That's all."

"Are you sure? We should have gone somewhere else after what happened here this morning. I know how I'd feel if the situation was reversed. I'm a complete cad. It would bother me, thinking of you in bed with someone. That's how you feel, isn't it?"

She wanted to deny his words but couldn't. She might be able to mask her feelings, but it had always been hard for her to lie outright and denial would have been a lie.

Nate looked down at the fair woman, feeling protective, responsible and realizing she was embarrassed, spared her from having to answer. "I'm glad you're here. I have to admit though, I'm being selfish. I want to show you off." A lecherous grin strayed across his mouth and lit his eyes.

Blythe took one of his large hands in her own small one and gave it a playful tug. "Come on. Let's get back to your friends."

Instead of following, he pulled her in the opposite direction, stopping in front of the room next to his. He continued to hold her hand tightly as his other hand produced a key from his pocket.

"What are you doing?" she asked sharply and began pulling away.

"Keep your voice down. You'll wake the whole floor," he whispered, unlocking he door.

"I'll do more than that. I'll scream like a bloody banshee. I am not going in there!"

Nate feigned dismay. "You don't trust me?" His brows drew together in a mock expression of pain. "And to think, after all we've meant to each other. Oh, don't give me that go to hell stare. I have no intention of touching you. Your virtue will remain intact," he goaded, "unless of course you decide otherwise.  You know, Connie was right. You really are a terrible coward."

Blythe's staunch attitude changed to one of exasperation. "And you, Mr. Stevens, are a very queer sort of man," she retorted.

"Odd, darlin', not queer...or perhaps you'd like me to prove it to you." He bowed, waving his arm toward the open door in an overly effusive gesture.

"I certainly don't!" Blythe replied, biting her tongue to restrain the giggle that threatened to give her away.

She swept past his bent torso, accepting the gallant invitation to enter, but Nate rushed by her and indicated  she sit in the chair he graciously held out. "I wouldn't want you too near the bed," he chided, bringing another chair close to hers. Then turning somber he asked, "Would you go with me?"

"Where?" Blythe countered casually. "If you're hungry, the coffee shop should still be open." Her voice sounded stilted in her own ears.

"Clever, Blythe... but I had something a little farther in mind...Mexico for instance. I believe I mentioned it.  Go with me. I talked it over with Chance. The condo sits right on the beach. We can be completely alone. It's the perfect opportunity to spend time together, to get to know each other. Please, I want you there."

Blythe shook her head. "I told you, be careful—"

"Save the 'be careful what you want' speech for your ex. If you were a third as honest with yourself as you claim to be with everyone else, you'd admit you want to go."

"God," she huffed angrily, "what on earth makes you so damn sure of yourself? You have no idea what I want."

She got up and wandered restlessly about the room, stopping to flip through the omnipresent bible then on to pause at the mirror and fidget nervously with her hair. Nate leaned back, satisfied to follow her with his eyes.

"I'm sure because of the way you tense up when I come too close, the habit you have of avoiding my eyes when the discussion becomes personal. I don't know you well but I know you're not the type that gets flustered around too many men. Do you know how easily you blush?"

She stared at her reflection and witnessed the color flash hotly in her cheeks. "I get flushed when I'm angry is all. You know nothing about me. Nothing!" she accused, her eyes meeting his mirrored ones.

"You're wrong," he answered confidently, compelled by a desire to taunt her. "I can't decide when I first became sure of you...whether it was that morning in Tahoe when you returned my kiss...you haven't forgotten that, have you, darlin'?"

She glared at his image but said nothing.

"Of course you haven't. Or perhaps it was your love pat on the cheek this morning—"

"I'm not listening to anymore of this!" Blythe hissed, rushing to the door.

"Don't run away again," he said gently as her hand went to the knob. "You asked a question. Stay for the truth...nothing but."

She remained frozen where she was, her back to him.

"When we kissed, you pressed me so close I could feel your heart racing and the heat of your body penetrating those layers of clothes. I saw the pulse throbbing in your neck. Did you know that your nostrils flare ever so slightly when you're excited, when your breathing becomes rapid? You melted into me, Blythe. It felt as though I could have taken you there in the snow on the porch." His voice had become a tender caress.

"I'm going to get Connie. We're leaving," she said stiffly and opened the door.

"There's no reason not to come. You'd have your own room. I'm not gonna force myself on you. I just want time to know you better. Think about it, Blythe."

But there was only silence until the door closed with a click that echoed the emptiness of the room and Nate was alone.