Heat Wave (Riders Up) (15 page)

Ed sat back down. “So
your father didn’t trust Brad with the land even in the will. He seems to have
gone to some fairly extreme measures so you would control the land.”

“Yes, he did. I was
shocked by the will and the letter of instruction. Brad was livid. While he
liked the extra cash that came to him, he still wanted me to sell the farm. For
him, it was almost a matter of principle. The farm had been such an onerous
thing for him. Obviously, I wouldn’t sell, and he knew that. So did Dad. That’s
why he wrote the will the way he did.

“Right or wrong. Fair
or unfair. I don’t know.” Maggie sipped her coffee and glanced at Ed, wondering
what he was making of all of this. Now that she’d begun, it was important that
he understand. “I’ve been paying Brad off bit by bit. I wish I could have paid
him off with the insurance money, but I don’t trust my brother—no matter what
he says. If I violate the letter of the will by paying him off faster than it
states, what’s to prevent Brad from contesting the entire will again?”

“You two do seem to
be bound together by parents from the grave,” Ed said. “I know it happens a
lot, but it seems eerie.”

“Dad always said
blood was thicker than water, and Mom always wanted us to be more of a family. I
imagine both of them thought the way the will was written would mean we would
at least have to deal with each other. That may be true. But I don’t think the
will has helped brother-sister bonding. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with
him. He is my only brother. And he is the kids’ uncle.”

- o -

The next day, hoping
to avoid Maggie’s brother, Ed stayed busy with the horses. That afternoon his
luck ran out.

Glancing up from
inventorying medical supplies, he saw Brad Magee enter the barn. At least the
man was more appropriately dressed today with jeans, a tan polo shirt, and
tennis shoes. He hadn’t come ready to work, but then Ed hadn’t expected that.

“Good morning,”
Brad said cheerfully.

Immediately on
guard, Ed responded, “And how are you today?”

“I’ve been worse.” Brad
glanced at the vast array of bottles, syringes and bandages Ed had spread out
on a work table. “So you were quite successful in Chicago?”

“You could say
that.”

“But things went
sour.”

“You got that
right.”

“How’d you get
linked up with my sister?”

“She found me.”

“Why doesn’t that
surprise me more?” Brad paused, taking a second look at his surroundings. “Looks
like you’ve got quite a set up here.”

Ed lifted his eyes
from his checklist to peer directly at Maggie’s brother. “Your sister wanted me
to help her set up a competitive racing stable. We’ve done some things that
make that a possibility.”

“I’ll just bet you
have.”

“Do you have a
problem with something?”

Brad raised his
open palm quickly. “Not at all. Ben Templeton vouches for you as a horse trainer.
I’m sure you know what you’re doing. I may not trust the man, but he wouldn’t
do anything to harm Maggie. As far as my sister goes, anybody who can take her
on is a better man than me.”

Reaching into his
back pocket, pulling out a flask, Brad paused to lift the container to his
lips.

As the sweet smell
of whisky invaded his nostrils, Ed watched Brad’s Adam’s apple rise and fall,
measuring greedy swallows. The man was in ecstasy. Ed’s stomach lurched; his
entire body tensed.

“Want a pull or
two?” Brad asked, holding out the flask toward Ed.

Repulsed by the man’s
devilish grin, Ed stopped long enough to visualize his latest sobriety chip. “No,
thanks. I don’t touch the stuff. It can be dangerous to your health, but then
you probably know that.”

“Yeah, heard tell
that Sis was trying to reform an alcoholic. Our dad always believed she could
work miracles.”

Brad shoved the
flask back into his hip pocket. “So tell me about betting horses. Craps has
always been my game, but I’ve had a run of bad luck recently. I hear money can
be made at the track, though.”

“For some. But
trainers are about the last folks who can talk about betting. They get too
attached to their own horses to handicap objectively.”

“But you know
something about handicapping?”

“Of course. You
have to make similar judgments when placing your horse in appropriate races.”

 “So how do I
learn? Where do I get the inside tips?”

Ed stood grinning
at the shorter man. “You want an edge? There is no edge other than some hard-headed
work and a good bit of luck. Now, I’ve got to go work some horses. Hopefully,
with a bit of luck, we can make some money at the track that way.”

“So you won’t help
me?” Brad sneered. “Hard work and luck—that’s what I’ve heard all my life. I’m
doing pretty well, and I don’t have to sweat much doing it.”

“I can loan you a
book or two if you like,” Ed offered. “With your background in computers, you
might be quite interested in speed handicapping. Now I have to get back to
work.”

“Don’t you walk
away from me when I’m talking to you!” Brad shouted at Ed’s back.

Ed turned slowly. “I’d
suggest that you not use that tone of voice with me, mister. Your sister may
feel that she has to tolerate it—I don’t. I’ve tried to be polite with you
because you’re Maggie’s brother, but enough is enough. It’s probably best for
both of us if you leave the barn area now.”

Brad sputtered. “That’s
fine with me. The stench is overwhelming.”

Ed knew Brad was
following him, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t want a physical
confrontation with Maggie’s brother.

“I’ll let you get
back to planning how to wheedle your way into my sister’s pants and money.”

Ed tensed when he
heard mocking laughter. He turned and stared at the smaller man, who had come
to an abrupt halt just out of arms reach.

“Looks like you’re
doing fine with both.” Brad put his thumbs in his belt loops.

He didn’t look
nearly as tough as he probably thought he did. Ed wanted to laugh.

“I sure don’t know
what she sees in you. You’ve got no future, only a past. One of these days she’ll
come to her senses and dump you on your tarnished ass.” Brad ginned a
victorious smile. “Maybe then she’ll sell.”

Ed’s fingers flexed
involuntarily into fists. In an earlier time in his life, he would have
bloodied the man’s nose long before now. He took a half step toward Brad and
stopped. Maggie would be mad as hell if he threw a punch. Instead, Ed turned
and walked away, leaving her brother cussing at him and the entire world.

Seeking relief, Ed
saddled a horse and trotted him out across the meadow and the old pasture land.
He wondered why Maggie’s father had never plowed it under for planting crops. It
didn’t make much sense to use the valuable land for a few beef to graze when it
could be planted with cash crops. But then a lot about the Magee-Anderson
family didn’t make much sense.

He felt like he was
being sucked into some vortex that had no name and was governed by rules
unknown to him. Why hadn’t she told him about her brother? Was it shame, or did
she think he might perceive her brother as a monkey wrench in the stable plans?
Who was playing whom for a fool?

Ed squeezed the
horse into an easy canter. He loved being on horseback. Often he could think
more clearly atop a horse than on the ground. Images of Carolyn and Johnny
flashed through his mind. Damn, they’d be home shortly. Then what?

A lot of things
were crowding him all at once. Life would get worse before improving. Why had
he succumbed to her wiles? That was what was making everything so sticky. If
they hadn’t become lovers, Maggie’s brother would have less ammunition to use
against her. Brad might be a rake, but Ed didn’t want Maggie to be regarded in
the same light.

Did anything hold
brother and sister together other than resentments and admonitions from the
grave?

That stupid ass for
a brother had seen through him quickly enough. What had he said?
You’ve got
no future, only a past. One of these day’s she’ll come to her senses and dump
you on your tarnished ass.
Ed didn’t doubt that at all; he never had.

- o -

Two days later,
Maggie sat on a hay bale watching Ed repair a longe line. He looked so focused
braiding the rope to fit a gun metal snap. She loved to observe him when he was
totally engrossed. The cat in her lap stood, arched its back and leapt to the
floor.

It was hard not to
worry. There was her brother, and she and Ed were working through their
relationship, and then the kids would be home the next day. They’d be pleased
about Ed and her, but she still was a little embarrassed. It wasn’t every day
that she could tell her adolescent daughter and pre-adolescent son that she had
taken on a lover. They would be delighted; she just hoped they wouldn’t smother
Ed. He’d balk at that. No doubt about it.

He’d become even
more quiet and pensive since her brother showed up. Maggie had tried to get Ed
to talk about the future, but he was so adept at sidetracking the conversation.
Their lovemaking, if anything, had become more intense, more urgent. Her body
warmed just imagining them entwined in the aftermath of passion.

With a satisfied
smile, Ed looked over at her. “There,” he said, pulling on the longe line and
testing its strength. “That ought to last a while longer. Okay, what now? I can
see the wheels spinning in your conniving little head. You’re up to something.”

“So…you’re Eddie
Travers’ godfather.”

Ed frowned. “Where
the hell did that come from, and what else has Cassie been telling you behind
my back?”

“All your secrets
and more. I was touched by the story of Eddie’s birth. Don’t be so grumpy about
it. You should be honored that they wanted you to be his godfather.”

“I am,” he
responded. Exhaling, he said, “I’m just not very damn good at it now, am I?”

“What do you mean
by that?”

“Would you want
your son to grow up like me?” He laughed caustically, as if he had told a bad
joke.

“I would be delighted
if you were the father of my son. You’d make a super dad,” Maggie said, jumping
to her feet. “We all make mistakes, Ed. None of us is perfect. The question is,
what will we learn from our mistakes? I hope Johnny turns out as caring and
loving as you.”

“Bullshit!” He
started to walk away.

“I think you should
move into the house.”

- o -

She might as well
have hit him over the head with a sledgehammer. Like a trapped animal, he
growled and backpedaled. “No, that won’t work. What we’ve had has been nice,
but it’s got to end. Your kids are coming home tomorrow.”

“Nice!” Maggie
rapidly closed the distance between them. “Won’t work? Why the hell not? I love
you,” she said, pounding her fists on his chest. “You love me. We’ll make it
work.”

“I never…”

“I know you never
used those words—you don’t have to. They are in your eyes and on your
fingertips when we make love and when we’re sitting on the porch swing. You can’t
deny it.”

Ed simply glowered
at her, then turned his back on her so she wouldn’t see his pain.

“So why won’t it
work?” she asked in a low, hushed voice. “Anything worthwhile will work if you
set your mind to it. And we have love working for us.”

Ed spun around.

Maggie took a step
backwards.

“Don’t tell me what
I feel. You’ve got it all wrong. Pollyanna doesn’t work in real life. You pick
a drunk up out of the gutter and think you can remake him and do whatever you
want with him. It won’t work. Even your brother is smart enough to figure that
out.”

“Ed…”

“Don’t try to color
things different than they are. We’ve had a damn good roll in the hay these
last several days, but that’s it.” Ed grabbed gloves from his back pocket. “You’ve
proven you can still attract a man, of sorts. Now go out and find a decent one
who can give you what you need, love ever after.”

Not waiting for a
response, Ed stormed out of the barn toward his truck. He climbed in and
twisted the ignition key. The engine sputtered and stopped. “Not now, Mabel.” He
slammed a fist against the steering wheel. “Don’t do this to me.” He tried the
key. Again the engine sputtered, then seemed to catch new life. Without looking
back toward the barn, Ed gunned Mabel and himself out of the driveway and out
of Maggie Anderson’s life.

- o -

With mouth ajar and
tears streaming down her face, Maggie ran to the barn entrance to watch his
beat up truck lurch down the dirt road. How could he run away from her like
this?

Brushing away tears
with the back of her hand, she screamed, “No!” Her balled fists banged against
the unyielding rough boards of the barn wall.