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  “You loved him. Love doesn’t come with an intelligence quotient.”

  “I feel terrible that you and Nick came home to such a mess. You just got married, and already there are problems. My brother is a great guy, but then I guess you already knew that or you wouldn’t have married him. Mom won’t bend. Things are either black or white with her. There are no gray areas anywhere in her life.”

  “I can’t believe that, Emmie. Mothers are very forgiving. They love their children unconditionally. I’m sure you and Nick will be able to work things out with her once she calms down.”

  Emmie laughed, a bitter sound to Willow’s ears. “Maybe other mothers are like that, but ours isn’t. We learned early on, almost as soon as we could walk, that the horses always came first. We were raised that way. I’m not saying it’s wrong, it’s the way it is, and we knew that, accepted it. Mom is very loving, very generous and kind with us. As soon as we hit our teens she told us we could take care of ourselves. She stopped that motherly hovering thing all mothers do. I don’t know how Nick is going to handle this. All he knows are the horses, and yet I can’t see him signing on with another farm. I’m glad he has you, Willow. I’m glad you’re both here. I’m a terrible hostess. Would you like some coffee? Yes, coffee’s good. I’ll make some. Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up. I’ll call you when the coffee is ready.”

  “That sounds like a splendid idea. Emmie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you really have stopped talking if Buddy agreed to stay with you?”

  “I guess I meant it when I said it. I know that doesn’t say much for me, now does it? He dumped me because I’m normal now. He hated it when people talked to me and I responded. He wanted me to keep signing. I got so used to talking I would forget to sign. Then he would grab my arm and swing me around and make me sign. I guess that should have been my first clue. I don’t know what to do without him. All I do is walk around in circles.”

  “This is a pretty kitchen,” Willow said, changing the subject.

  “Mom helped me decorate it. The breakfast nook gets the full morning sun. I like to curl up in the wing chair in my pajamas on Sunday morning and read the paper and drink a whole pot of coffee. Nick and I used to alternate Sundays. I always looked forward to that time. It was special. I guess I can do that every day now for the rest of my life. Do you want to hear something strange, Willow? When my stepfather, Nick’s dad, died, Mom never once cried. He was dead, and she didn’t cry. Buddy leaves me, and I fall apart and can’t stop crying. Can you explain that to me?”

  “No, Emmie, I can’t. Each of us grieves in our own way.” She gave Emmie a hug. “I’m going to go upstairs and freshen up. I’ll be down soon. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Emmie nodded as she measured coffee into the silver basket.

  Satisfied that the coffee was perking, Emmie curled up in the wing chair in the breakfast nook. Maybe she should have told Willow and Nick the rest of her sorry tale. To what end? Some things were just better left alone. She looked out the window to watch her two favorite squirrels, Lizzie and Dizzy, scamper across the deck railing to the huge bowl of pecans she kept on the picnic table on the deck. She’d tamed them to a degree. Oftentimes when she sat out on the deck with a book they’d come right up to her chair and beg for the nuts. They always scampered away and watched from a distance when Buddy would join her. She wondered why that was. Did they sense something in him that wasn’t right? Were squirrels like dogs, good judges of character? Did it matter? Right now, nothing mattered, not the loss of Buddy or her mother’s ugly decision to banish her.

  Lizzie and Dizzy scurried across the railing, hopped onto the back of one of the deck chairs, and then onto the windowsill outside the breakfast nook. Their eyes shiny bright, their bushy tails swinging from side to side, they watched the sleeping girl who fed them every day and changed their daily water bowl on the steps of the deck. They chattered to one another as their little paws tapped on the glass for recognition. When none was forthcoming, they scampered away.

  Upstairs, Nick perched on the edge of the bed, his head between his hands. He wanted to bawl, to kick and scream the way he’d done when he was a little boy. “Always be responsible for your own actions.” Words his father had taught him early on. Words he’d always heeded. Until now. How could he make this all come out right? He couldn’t.

  His mother had looked so tired, so weary. Ruby, too. Ruby had undergone chemotherapy and radiation treatments for a whole year. On the road to recovery, she still had to take her meds, still had to get plenty of rest, and he’d failed her, too. He should have called. Why hadn’t he? Because he didn’t want to hear a lecture, didn’t want to hear his mother say he was too young to marry someone he barely knew. He knew what he felt, knew what Willow felt, and that was enough for him. If only Misty Blue hadn’t foaled early. If only Buddy hadn’t left Emmie. If only, if only, if only. One week, one miserable goddamn week, and his whole life changed in a matter of minutes. Did it matter that he’d never, ever, taken a vacation? Did it matter that up until now he’d given his life to Blue Diamond Farms and the horses? What mattered was the week he’d taken for himself to get married. No matter what, he should have called. Somewhere far back in his mind he’d had the thought that when he and Willow returned there would be a second marriage like both his mother and Maud had, with a reception for the farm workers. A tradition of sorts.

  From the time he’d been able to understand, he’d heard stories about how wonderful Maud and Jess were, how they’d been together all their lives and only married when they were older because Maud wanted the piece of paper that said she belonged to someone. His mother had said theirs was a real lifelong love affair.

  As a youngster, he’d thought his parents were happy. But only at the end of the day when all the farm work was done. They’d had so little time to spend with one another and with their children. Maybe the marriage hadn’t been so wonderful after all. Maybe he was wearing rose-colored glasses. Maybe he didn’t want a marriage like theirs after all. Maybe that was why he’d done things the way he had. Maybe a lot of things.

  One stinking, lousy phone call, and he wouldn’t be sitting here ready to bawl his head off.

  Bottom line . . . he should have called.

  “We’ll work this out, Nick,” Willow said, sitting down next to him on the bed. “I’m going to send the check back. Maybe I should take it back and try to talk to your mother. She used to like me. Maybe we can talk, woman to woman. It’s worth a try, Nick. I hate seeing you so miserable.”

  “I’m not just miserable. I’m fucking miserable, and it’s my own fault. I’m in shock. I knew I should have called. Some small part of me wanted to, but the larger part of me said no, she’ll demand I come home. Our trip was special in so many ways, my first-ever vacation, making love to you, getting married. I wanted to keep it close for as long as I could. I didn’t want to share it with anyone but you. This is the result.”

  “You aren’t selfish, honey. And you can’t take all the blame. I should have insisted you call your mother. I know your mom. I should have known how she’d react.” She cradled him against her. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll take the check back and then drive into town and look for a job. There’s that new hotel. They were advertising for a chef. We won’t starve, Nick.”

  Nick flopped backward onto the bed and laughed bitterly. “Money is the least of my problems, Willow. I’m fixed financially for the rest of my life. Emmie is, too. Hell, between us we could buy and operate our own farm. Maybe that’s what we’ll do if Emmie is agreeable. I want your promise that you won’t go to my mother. If you want to send the check back, that’s okay, and it is your decision. Just so you know, my mother never backs down. Never.”

  “She’s not like that, Nick. I used to talk to her for hours in the kitchen. It’s like we’re talking about two different people here. The woman I know is nothing like what you’re describing.”

  “Don’t delude yourself. I’m h
er son. I should know. Everyone wears two faces. There’s the family side where it all hangs loose and you know someone inside and out, and then there is the public side, where that person lets you see only what they want you to see. You do it, I do it, everyone does it. Sometimes we do it consciously and sometimes we do it unconsciously. How is Emmie?”

  “She’s hurting, Nick. How do you expect her to feel? She said she didn’t see it coming. What kind of man would do something like that? And in public.” She told him about Emmie’s confession.

  “Jesus. I’m just spoiling for a fight. I should get on the next plane to Ohio and beat the crap out of that sorry son of a bitch. I don’t care if he is deaf. I don’t understand why he would go back to Ohio anyway. His parents did come from there, but as far as I know he only has an uncle left, and he must be pretty old by now. By the way, that uncle couldn’t wait to unload Buddy when his parents were killed. He allowed my mother to take him in and Mom raised him. I really should go there and beat the living crap out of him.”

  “That’s not what you’re going to do, Nick. This is Emmie’s problem and we aren’t going to do anything unless she asks us to intervene, which she isn’t going to do. Right now we are going to go downstairs and have some coffee and talk about our future. We have to start making plans.”

  “I don’t know if I can leave here, Willow. I have to be around horses. It’s my life. It’s all I know.”

  “I didn’t say anything about leaving or you not being around horses. I said we need to talk about what we’re going to do. That includes Emmie.”

  “Okay. Listen, I just want to shower and change. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  “Take your time. I’ll unpack our suitcases and meet you downstairs.”

  In the bathroom with the door closed and locked, Nick broke down and sobbed, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. “I’m sorry I let you down, Dad.”

  In the foyer, Willow reached for her jacket. A breath of fresh air might be just what she needed. A walk around the yard might clear her head a little. She was on her second lap when she noticed the mailman trying to jam mail into Emmie’s box and having a hard time of it. She jogged forward and held out her hand. The after-Christmas sale catalogs were heavy. She staggered under their weight and on into the house, where she shrugged out of her jacket. She called out to Emmie as she entered the kitchen. “I brought your mail in. Guess in the excitement of going on the cruise you forgot to notify the post office to hold your mail. Nick thinks you might have some bills that need to be paid. Oh, Emmie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were asleep.”

  “I guess I dozed off. It’s not a problem. Our coffee is ready. I’ve been meaning to go out and pick up the mail, but I simply didn’t want to make the effort. I guess it did pile up. Two weeks’ worth from the looks of things. I’ll go through it later.”

  “No, let’s go through it now,” Nick said, entering the kitchen. “I don’t want to see you get a bad credit rating. You need to pay your bills on time. I would like some coffee, ladies.”

  “Oh, yes sir, kind sir, it will be my pleasure to serve you some coffee. Would you like me to whip you up a double chocolate cake while I’m at it?” Willow teased.

  “Nope. We ate too much rich food on vacation. Coffee will do just fine.” Nick sorted through the first-class mail. “You have a certified letter one of your neighbors signed for. Guess they just stuck it back in your box. It came sometime last week. It’s from Josh Coleman’s lawyer, the one Mom sent packing. You remember, the ornery, dumb one who couldn’t get anything right. Do you want me to open it?”

  “Be my guest, then chuck it. I don’t want anything to do with those people and all those crazy lawyers. All lawyers do is bleed you dry.”

  “Well, lookee here, Emmie. Don’t be so quick to chuck this one. Seems that ornery old buzzard we all thought was on the dumb side is suffering from Alzheimer’s. This letter is from his son informing us and apologizing at the same time for the mistakes his father made. Remember the day you signed off on SunStar Farms, Josh Coleman’s horse farm in Virginia? You signed it over to Ma’s brothers. Right?”

  “Yes, my uncles. So what?”

  “So what is this? The filings were never made in the timely manner the courts require. They are now null and void, and you have to sign a new set, which is enclosed. Do you want to sign these, Emmie? You don’t have to, you know.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to sign them?”

  “Think about it. Ma just booted our asses out of Blue Diamond Farms. You own a farm. We can go there and take it over. Between the two of us we could bring that farm up to snuff.”

  “What about Uncle Rhy and Uncle Pyne?”

  “What about them?”

  “If we take it over, even though it was willed to me, what will happen to them?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose they could work with us. I heard Ma say she would make them full partners at Blue Diamond Farms if they wanted to join her. I don’t know how anyone in his right mind could turn down an offer like that.”

  “Isn’t SunStar tied up in that legal mess Mom is dealing with?”

  “I don’t know, Emmie. Mom never said much about it to me. The lawyers are handling it all. Look, it’s the answer to our futures. Do you want to stay here and cry yourself to death over Buddy and Mom, or do you want to get on with your life?”

  “Don’t we need a lawyer? We can’t use the one Mom uses because it will be a conflict of interest. The whole thing is so messy I’m not sure I want to get involved. Can we think about it?”

  “Hey, I know a lawyer. Dad had these two friends he went to law school with. They still call me on a regular basis. The one named Hatch is an Indian and bigger than life. According to Dad, his billable hours are through the roof. Dad loved that big guy. If he hadn’t married Mom, he would have joined the firm. Another friend of Dad’s is Bode Jessup. Dad said if I ever needed a good lawyer, to call Hatch. According to Dad he’s the best of the best. His first name is Shunpus. Guess it’s an Indian name. He’s our man. Dad used to talk about those guys all the time. Sometimes I think he thought he made a mistake by not going into the firm with them. What do you think, Emmie?”

  “Mom . . .”

  “Emmie, for God’s sake, we aren’t doing anything illegal. SunStar was left to you. It’s yours. Where is it written you have to give it to Rhy and Pyne? Mom told you to sign off on it, and you did. Did you even think about it when she told you to do it? No, you just signed the documents because she told you to sign them. Did you ever think about what you did and the why of it?”

  “A few times,” Emmie mumbled. “Buddy said I was stupid for doing it. He called Mom a dictator sometimes. Let’s think about it before we make a decision. I don’t see anything wrong with getting in touch with your father’s friend. See what he thinks. If he thinks it’s the right thing to do, we’ll do it. You know, of course, that Mom will have a fit.”

  “That’s a given. Guess we’ll have to live with that, too. If you two fine young women think you can manage without me, I’d like to fly out to Santa Fe and talk to Hatch in person. I’m not comfortable discussing something like this on the phone. I could fly out early tomorrow, stay overnight, and be back the following morning. You okay with that?”

  Willow nodded. “Okay, Nick.”

  “Then it’s a go. I’ll go upstairs, pack, and make a reservation. An early dinner would be good or I could take you ladies out to eat. Decide and tell me the verdict when I come back down.”

  “Okay, honey. We want to go out.”

  “That was quick.”

  “You know us women. We can make snap decisions. Right, Emmie?”

  “You bet.” Emmie smiled.

  “I think I’m going to change my clothes if we’re going out to dinner. Do you need me to do anything?”

  “No. Go up with Nick and change. I need to sit here and do some thinking.”

  Nick was right, Emmie thought. She’d blindly signed off on SunStar Farms when her grandf
ather died because her mother told her to do it. It never occurred to her to question her mother’s orders. It was all done to make sure her brothers always had a place to live. “You don’t need that farm, Emmie,” was what she’d said. “There are too many bad memories attached to SunStar Farms. Besides, you can’t uproot your uncles from the only home they’ve ever known.” So, she’d signed off on it because she was a good, dutiful daughter and always did what she was told.

  Now, according to Nick, the legal papers she’d signed were null and void. She still owned the farm. If she wanted to, she could take possession of it like Nick said. If she wanted to.

  2

  Nick looked around the busy airport for some sign of Hatch Littletree. A grin as wide as all outdoors stretched across his face the moment he spotted the big man. They exchanged grins as Hatch lumbered toward him, opened his arms, and gave him a body-crunching, manly hug.

  His father had told him Shunpus Littletree, nicknamed Hatch, because of an extraordinary feat back in college, was as big as a grizzly bear but as gentle as a pussycat. According to his father, Hatch was a full-blooded Indian who worshiped success and fine things. He was also generous to a fault, with one of the biggest, most lucrative law practices in the West. The last time Nick had seen the big man was at his father’s funeral. He’d watched in awe when the gentle giant wept as his father’s casket was lowered into the ground.

  Hatch had called a lot those first months, just to talk, to reminisce. The calls tapered off later on, to be followed with e-mails and short, handwritten notes. To this day they continued.

  “You look so much like your dad you’re spooking me, boy. You have any luggage?” The big man boomed so loud people turned around to see where the sound was coming from. “How’s your mother?”

  “She’s fine, Hatch. She’s part of the reason I’m here. Dad always said if he was in trouble, you were the first person he would go to. He told me to remember your name and to call you if I ever needed a smart attorney.”