someone.”
“Erin,” Paris Montgomery said to him.
“Erin?”
“Erin. My groom. The one that left.”
He made a sour face. “That girl? She’s good for nothing. What would you want with her?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “She’s gone.”
“What’s your friend’s name?” Paris asked. “In case I hear of someone.”
“Sean Avadon. Avadonis Farm.”
The man’s cold blue eyes brightened. “He has some very nice horses.”
“Yes, he does.”
“You work for him?” he asked.
I supposed I did look like hired help with my hacked-off hair, old jeans, and work boots. “He’s an old friend. I’m leasing a horse from him until I can find what I’m looking for.”
He smiled then like a cat with a cornered mouse. His teeth were brilliantly white. “I can help you with that.”
A horse dealer. The third-oldest profession. Forerunners of used-car salesmen the world over.
Paris Montgomery rolled her eyes. A truck pulled up at the end of the tent. “That’s Dr. Ritter. I’ve got to go.”
She turned the big smile back on and shook my hand again. “Nice meeting you, Elle,” she said, as if we’d never had that moment of unpleasantness at the mention of Stellar’s death. “Good luck with your search.”
“Thanks.”
She set the Russell down and followed the barking beast around the corner as the vet called for her.
The man held his hand out to me. “Tomas Van Zandt.”
“Elle Stevens.”
“My pleasure.”
He held my hand a little too long.
“I’d better be going,” I said, drifting back a step. “It’s getting late for a wild-goose chase.”
“I’ll take you to your car,” he offered. “Beautiful women shouldn’t go around unescorted here in the dark. You don’t know what kind of people might be around.”
“I have a pretty good idea, but thanks for your concern. Women shouldn’t get into cars with men they’ve only just met either,” I said.
He laughed and placed a hand over his heart. “I am a gentleman, Elle. Harmless. Without designs. Wanting nothing of you but a smile.”
“You’d sell me a horse. That would cost me plenty.”
“But only the best horses,” he promised. “I will find you exactly what you need and for a good price. Your friend Avadon likes good horses. Maybe you could introduce us.”
Horse dealers. I rolled my eyes and gave him half a smile. “Maybe I just want a ride to my car.”
Looking pleased, he led the way out of the tent to a black Mercedes sedan and opened the door for me.
“You must have a lot of satisfied customers if you can rent a car like this for the season,” I said.
Van Zandt smiled like the cat that got the cream
and
the canary. “I have such happy clients, one gave me the loan of this car for the winter.”
“My goodness. If only my ex had made me so happy, he might still be considered in the present tense.”
Van Zandt laughed. “Where are you parked, Miss Elle?”
“The back gate.”
As we started down the road toward The Meadows I said, “You know this girl, Erin? She’s not a good worker?”
He pursed his lips like he’d gotten a whiff of something rotten. “Bad attitude. Smart mouth. Flirting with the clients. American girls don’t make good grooms. They’re spoiled and lazy.”
“I’m an American girl.”
He ignored that. “Get a good Polish girl. They’re strong and cheap.”
“Can I get one at Wal-Mart? I’ve got a Russian now. She thinks she’s a czarina.”
“Russians are arrogant.”
“And what are Dutchmen?”
He pulled the Mercedes in where I pointed, alongside my Beemer.
“I am from Belgium,” he corrected. “Men from Belgium are charming and know how to treat ladies.”
“Slick rascals, more like,” I said. “Ladies should be on their guard, I think.”
Van Zandt chuckled. “You are no pushover, Elle Stevens.”
“It takes more than a smile and an accent to sweep me off my feet. I’ll make you work for it.”
“A challenge!” he said, delighted at the