Sometimes you just have to smile, pretend everything's okay hold back the tears and just walk away.  —Unknown

With his rugged good looks and frank way of speaking, Ed Whitlock had been quite the ladies' man in his day.

A Mounted Police Officer with the NYPD, it'd been his job to patrol the New York streets and catch criminals with a specially trained police horse, named Sam, instead of a squad car. He'd loved his exciting, single lifestyle, until he'd met the woman of his dreams.

Lavinia Brewster  had changed all that. Now the name left a bitter taste and a frown on his mouth. A former Rodeo Queen on the Northeast circuit, she'd been a commanding beauty. The way she'd handled a horse had taken his breath away. That was twenty two years ago. Time had a way of wearing a man down, making him miss female company, but he missed his equine partner, Sam, more than his larger-than-life ex-wife.

Peeling his wet suit off broad shoulders, Chris found his father wiping his hands on an oily rag in front of his work shop. "I cleaned your carburetor. That skipping issue should be gone."

"Dad, why'd you do that?" Father and son stood by the ancient truck admiring the now humming engine.

Ed shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't I help my own son without being interrogated?"

A white sedan turned into the driveway and pulled up next to them. A buxom, handsome woman in her fifties stepped out, her feet clad in designer sandals. She wore a white blouse over crisp shorts, every strand of her dyed hair immaculately in place. Chris was reminded of Jackie Kennedy if she'd been a blond.

Ed rushed to her side. "Here, let me help you with those, Vikki." He grabbed the bags from the
statuesque woman and gave her a hug.

"Why thank you, handsome stranger. Victoria Cirelli leaned over and kissed Ed. Chris inwardly cringed at the woman's deep throaty laugh. Despite her charming demeanor, he felt his father's fiancé was enjoying private joke at their expense. As if she had an unpleasant surprise waiting for both of them.

"I'm going to cook you my specialty. Italian pasta.
The secret ingredient is cinnamon in the meat filling," she gushed.

"Sounds delicious, sweetheart. I'll help you." Ed started towards the silver trailer.

"Nonsense, you stay here with Chris and get the bonfire going." 

Chris frowned. Almost as if she doesn't want us watching her in the kitchen.

After Vikky went in to start dinner, Ed turned towards his son.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I can see something's bothering you."

"She doesn't seem like your type."

"Really? What's my type."

Chris shrugged his broad shoulders. "Honestly, I don't know, but she seems kind of elite in a high society way."

"Her husband was a banker. She grew up poor and had to learn to dress like that to entertain his friends. I think she looks nice."

Chris rubbed the back of his neck. "She's attractive, he admitted, "but I thought you'd end with someone more earthy. Someone who likes animals."

"Vic loves animals."

"She does?"

"Sure."

Chris imagined the woman's wardrobe filled with leopard, mink and ermine coats.

"Listen, I'm not getting any younger. She may not be my soul mate, but she's not an apex predator like.." He stopped.

"Like my mother," Chris finished the sentence for him.

Ed threw an arm around his son's shoulder. "Let's not fight, boss. God knows the two of us need to stick together when it comes to woman. He grinned. "Funny, I haven't been this nervous since I was a teenager."

Chris rubbed the side of his jaw. "I'm not my best either after a night of drinking."