Hidden Talents

You were raised here. Everyone knows you. It doesn't take a sociologist to figure out that some things never change in small towns.”
    “If you're so committed to honoring small-town conventions,” Caleb said, “why did you come to my room tonight?”
    She blushed furiously. “I came down here because I absolutely had to talk to you. I needed to have your word that you weren't using me somehow.”
    “Serenity—”
    “But now that we've had this little chat and I know that you're not playing some weird game with your family, I really have to get back to my room.”
    “Serenity…” Caleb repeated patiently.
    “What?” Clutching the lapels of her robe with one hand, she stealthily opened the French doors and peered out into the darkness. It was obvious that she didn't want to be spotted scurrying back to her room.
    “I just thought you'd like to know that there haven't been many.”
    “Many what?” she asked over her shoulder.
    “Women. And I have always been extremely discreet.”
    She grinned. “I know. That's one of the things I like about you, Caleb. You've got high standards in everything.”
    “I'm not the only one,” he said. “Am I?”
    “Nope. I've got my standards, too.” She stepped outside into the cold darkness and closed the door very softly.
    Caleb walked over to the French doors, opened them soundlessly and watched as Serenity hurried along the veranda to the door of her own room. When she vanished safely inside, he closed his own door again and leaned back against it with a low groan of deeply felt regret.
    He considered the condition of his heavily aroused body and decided that he was going to have a very hard time getting to sleep. This was getting to be an unfortunate habit. One of these days he was going to have to get this crazy relationship on track.
    He gazed at the bureau where he had hidden Crystal Brooke's plastic jewelry case. Then he crossed the room to open the drawer. He stood looking down at the tacky little box for a long time. Serenity's words echoed in his head. I imagine it meant a lot to her, and it must mean a lot to you because it's something that belonged to her .
    Serenity was wrong, he thought. The jewelry case meant nothing to him. One of these days he would throw it out.

    Caleb hooked one booted foot on the bottom rail of the paddock fence, rested his arms on the top and surveyed the spectacular gray stallion with a horseman's sense of satisfaction.
    He had been raised to know good horseflesh when he saw it, and there was no doubt but that the Arab was a prize. Windsailer was one of the finest studs Roland Ventress had ever owned. The stallion was descended from Windstar, and it showed. There was primitive equine intelligence in the large dark eyes, and grace in every sculpted line of a body that had been bred for endurance and power.
    “He's looking good, isn't he?” Roland asked as he walked up to stand beside Caleb.
    “Very impressive.” Caleb watched Windsailer munch hay.
    “Every crop of his foals breeds true,” Roland said. “They've all got his looks and his stamina. You can see Windstar in all of them. Blood tells.”
    “So you've always said.”
    Roland leaned against the top bar of the paddock fence. “This one's different from the others.”
    “This season's foals, you mean?”
    “I'm not talking about horses,” Roland said. “I'm talking about Serenity Makepeace.”
    Caleb smiled to himself. “Yes, she's different.”
    “You any more serious about her than you were about the last one?”
    “Serious?”
    “Goddammit, don't play games with me, boy.” Roland narrowed his eyes. “You know what I'm talking about. Are you going to marry this one or not?”
    “I'll let you know when I decide,” Caleb said politely.
    “It's past time you settled down and started a family. Hell, I had a twelve-year-old son when I was your age.”
    “I'm aware of that, sir.”
    “Damn, talking to you these days is like talking to a stone wall. Each time I see you it gets worse.”
    “What do you want me to say?” Caleb asked.
    “You know what I want you to say.” Roland gripped the paddock rail. “I want to hear you tell me that you're going to marry a good woman and start making babies. I'm not going to be around forever. Before I go to my grave, I want to know that there's going to be another generation of Ventresses.”
    “My cousins are having babies right and left. There were plenty of Ventresses at your birthday party