Arielle placed her hand over Heather’s. “You love him, don’t you?”
She didn’t even think to hesitate. “Yes.”
“Trust me, Jake may not realize it yet, but he’s in love with you, too,” Arielle said, smiling. “I’ve never seen him like this. He can’t keep his eyes off of you.”
“It’s not like he has much to choose from here,” Heather said dryly. “Besides the housekeeper, Clara Buchanan, who’s sixty if she’s a day, I’m the only other woman here at Hickory Hills.”
Arielle laughed. “How many times has he been out since he’s been here?”
“Other than the receptions and ball we’ve had to attend, he hasn’t,” she admitted.
“I rest my case.” Arielle hid a yawn behind her hand. “I know my brother. If he didn’t have some very strong feelings for you, he would have been out every night.”
“I wish you were right, but—”
“I am.” The young woman yawned again. “Now, why don’t you go downstairs and get to know the others while I take my nap. When I get up we’ll all go shopping and buy some wildly expensive hats we’ll probably never wear after the race tomorrow.”
Heather gave Arielle a hug, then walked out into the hall and quietly pulled the door shut behind her. She’d give almost anything for Jake’s sister to be right. But she couldn’t trust that Jake had changed for good. Before coming to Kentucky, he’d been perfectly content being the irresponsible bachelor with no children and no commitments. And once he was back in his element in Los Angeles, around friends who enjoyed partying all the time, he just might find that he’d missed that nonstop excitement and revert to his old ways.
Chapter Eight
“Heather, I’d like for you to meet my paternal grandmother, Emerald Larson,” Jake said, wondering how she’d take the news that he was the grandson of one of the richest women in the world.
The one thing that Emerald had respected and taken great pains to protect was her grandchildren’s right to privacy. She left it entirely up to them when and to whom they revealed the relationship. And as if by unspoken agreement, all six of them had been discreet and managed to keep the news fairly quiet.
As he watched, Heather’s aqua eyes widened a moment before she recovered and shook Emerald’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Larson.”
“I see Jake has taken his cue from the rest of my grandchildren,” Emerald said, patting Heather’s cheek. “Don’t worry, dear. None of the others revealed my identity until they had to, either.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I was just on my way to the paddock to see if Tony has everything under control,” Heather said, rising from her seat.
As she started past him, Jake caught her hand in his. “Will you be back in time for the race?”
Her smile lit the darkest corners of his soul. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
“Where’s your assistant?” he asked Emerald as he watched Heather disappear into the crowd.
Since Emerald never went anywhere without the distinguished-looking gentleman, Jake knew he couldn’t be too far away. He just hoped he didn’t have to go looking for Luther in the sea of people. Churchill Downs had a record crowd and he’d probably never find the poor old guy.
“Luther is placing a small wager for me on your horse, Jake,” Emerald said as she found a seat in the box section he’d reserved for the family to watch the race.
Unless she’d changed her ways, Emerald never did anything on a small scale. No telling how much she’d had Luther put down on Stormy Dancer. But it wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford it. She could probably buy the entire race track with all of the horses and not even scratch the surface of her bank account.
“This is such a festive atmosphere,” she said, looking genuinely excited. “And I love that all of the ladies have such decorative hats.” She touched the brim of her own elaborate headwear. “I think it’s sad that these aren’t called for on more occasions. I can remember a time when all the women wore hats for every occasion.”
Jake paid little attention to what she was saying as he scanned the crowd for Emerald’s assistant, Luther Freemont. When he finally spotted him, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. The man was slowly making his way through the crowd to the box section with a mint julep in each hand and a bet slip sticking out of the breast pocket of his suit.
“Mr. Garnier.” Luther nodded a greeting in his usually stiff manner, then handed one of the glasses to Emerald. “Your julep, madam.”
“Thank you, Luther.” Emerald patted the seat beside her and the man lowered himself into it. “I’m so glad we’re right here in front of the finish line. We’ll be able to see Jake’s horse win.”
As the bugler played the call to race, his brothers and their wives began to file into the box. Jake checked his watch. Where the hell was Heather? She should have been back from checking on Dancer down at the paddock by now.
Just as the horses began their parade past the grandstand on their way to the starting gate, he saw her hurrying up the steps. “Was everything all right?” he asked, when she reached him.
“Dancer was a little more skittish than usual,” she said, sitting down beside him. “Thoroughbreds are high-strung by nature—he can sense this is the race of his life.”
“Which one is Stormy Dancer?” Caleb asked from behind them.
“That’s Dancer,” Heather spoke up, pointing to one of the bays. “Our silks are red and blue with a white stripe cutting diagonally across the jockey’s chest. When they’re running along the back stretch or packed up, look for the colors and you’ll be able to keep track of him during the race.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Caleb said, picking up a set of binoculars.
“There’s a lot to remember in this business,” Luke said, laughing as he sat down on the other side of Jake.
“Tell me about it, bro.” Glancing at his twin, he felt as if he looked into a mirror. Lowering his voice, he admitted, “I couldn’t have gotten through these past couple of weeks without Heather. Every time a question was asked about Dancer or his training, she’d tell the reporters and sportscasters what they needed to know.”
Luke looked thoughtful. “When’s the wedding?”