Kentucky Rich (8 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Kentucky Rich
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The kitchen clock read 3:10 when she put coffee on to brew and filled the sink with warm soapy water. Her touch was reverent when she placed the gossamer gown in the soapy water. While the gown soaked to get rid of the musty smell, she drank two cups of coffee.
An hour later she rinsed the gown, rolled it in a towel to get most of the water out of it, and set up the ironing board. With the tip of the iron she ironed each tiny rosebud, then the gossamer material. When she was finished, she bent over to sniff the garment. The musty smell was gone, but the faint scent of jasmine still lingered. From the pantry's middle shelf she plucked a wad of pale pink tissue paper to wrap up the gown. It would be ready when it was needed. The clock read 5:20.
Nealy walked on weary legs back to the second floor, where she showered and dressed. Would she be able to make it through the day? She prayed that she would.
 
 
It was four o'clock when Danny Clay, the stud groom, happened to look into the stall of Stardancer, the stallion that had thrown Maud years ago. His eyes almost popping from his head, he called out to the other grooms in the barn, who came on the run. They gaped, too, at the sight of Nealy sleeping in the straw under the big stallion's belly. “Someone needs to go up to the main house and fetch Jess. There's no way we can get her out of there. How in the hell did she get in there in the first place? And why would she go in there at all? That horse is not one to mess around with. Her head's right behind his front hooves. One move and she's a goner. We need to get her out of there, and we need to do it
now.”
Stardancer whickered and stepped daintily forward. He lowered his massive head and snorted. Satisfied that the sleeping girl was all right, he moved another step forward. Clay and the others watched, fascinated, as the stallion moved sideways and then forward again until he was clear of the girl entirely. He lowered his head again and nudged her shoulder. When she didn't move, he nudged her again, harder this time, so she would roll over. She woke as the prickly straw tickled her face. A moment later she was on her hands and knees, struggling to get up. When she fell back down, the stallion used his head again to boost her upright. She clung to his neck until she was on her feet. A sea of faces stared at her. She stared back. “Don't you have work to do? Why are you all standing here staring at me?”
Danny Clay's voice verged on hysteria. “Of all the damn horses on this farm to go to sleep with, you pick the one that would just as soon stomp you to death as look at you. How do you think I could explain that to Jess or Miss Maud?”
“I know all about this horse. Watch this,” Nealy said as she swung herself onto the stallion's back. “See! This animal would no more stomp me to death than any other one. It was your mistake to ignore him all these years after Miss Maud's fall. He's your prize stallion, and you're all too damn dumb to know it. Now get back to work; this isn't a holiday! Another thing, I wasn't sleeping. I was resting my eyes.”
She could hear them muttering as they went back to what they'd been doing earlier. She slid off the stallion's back and proceeded to stroke his head. “You're the one, Stardancer,” she whispered. “I know it. I feel it. You are going to make it happen for Miss Maud. Your next foal is going to be my Derby winner. I'm going to breed you with Little Lady. I'm going to train the foal myself. With your help of course. You know what I'm saying. I know you understand. Show me. Show me you understand.” She giggled and laughed outright when the stallion nudged her until she was in the corner. She stood on her toes and hugged him. “We'll do it, too. That's a promise.”
“What in the hell is going on here?” Jess roared. “What are you doing in there, Nealy? I told you to stay away from that stallion. He's the one . . .”
“I know, Jess. I also know he's
the
one! He is, Jess. I can feel it. I can feel it in him, too. He knows. He's just waiting.”
“No. Not this one. Never this one. Do you hear me? Not this one!”
“Yes, this one. Even Emmie knows he's the one. You have to accept it.”
“Never! I'll have him shot dead.”
“No you won't. You could no more harm an animal than I could. He's not the reason Maud is dying. Are you going to help me, or are you going to fight me on this?”
Jess turned to leave the barn. “Do what you want. I don't care.”
“Maud knows! I told her a week ago. She said it was okay. I saw a spark, Jess, when I told her.”
“I'll never believe that. Maud would never give her blessing to this horse. Never in a million years.”
“She did, Jess. Emmie was with me when I asked her. She saw Maud's response. Ask her when she gets off the school bus. Better yet, go up to the house and ask Maud yourself. I think you know I would never lie to you. While you're up there, how about taking a shower. You smell worse than these horses.”
“Smart-ass girl!” Jess said as he stomped his way from the barn.
“Takes one to know one,” Nealy shouted. Stardancer pawed the ground. “He's just talking to hear himself. We'll make it happen. Just you, me, and Emmie. You wait and see. You are going to be the proud papa of a Derby winner, Stardancer!”
7
From her position on the back porch, Nealy watched Jess leading a bay colt to the yearling barns. She smiled. The colt was the picture of pure excitement. His eyes were wide and his sinews prominent from his recent exertion. Nealy guessed Jess was bringing him in from one of the pastures before going upstairs to see Maud.
What would Stardancer and Little Lady's colt be like? Was there really any doubt? He would be a champion, of course, with speed, courage, and heart. Lots of heart. She refused to entertain the idea that Little Lady might deliver a filly. It amazed her that she'd lived and worked around Stardancer for five years and hadn't realized his potential until a few months ago. How could she have been so blind? She was almost certain it was Jess's dislike of the horse that caused her to ignore him. If one of the grooms hadn't mistakenly put Stardancer in the wrong stall, she might never have gotten to know him.
She wished she didn't have to wait so long to breed him. March seemed a long time away, but if she wanted the foal to be born in January or February, she would have to be patient. From here on out, she promised herself, she would personally keep a record of Little Lady's estrous cycle and make it a point to exercise Stardancer herself at least once a week. Now, though, it was time to start thinking of other things and to go indoors.
The kitchen was fragrant with the smell of spices and cooking. Despite her lack of an appetite, Nealy's mouth began to water. “Why are you doing all this, Carmela? Who's going to eat that twenty-five-pound turkey and all those pies?” She eyed the long counter, with its pared vegetables and scrubbed sweet potatoes. She noticed Maud's fine china and silverware sitting on the opposite counter. Everything had been washed and polished. She'd noticed a huge bowl of fresh flowers in the dining room earlier. The linen tablecloth with twenty-four matching napkins that had been Maud's grandmother's rested on the sideboard. “Are we having company I don't know about?”
“Now, Miss Nealy, you know we do this every year. It's a tradition. No, we're not having company, but the employees asked if they could come by to see Miss Maud. We have to have something to offer them. If they eat it, fine; if they don't, that's fine, too. It's the way it is,” she said curtly. “I thought I would bring trays to Miss Maud's room for all of you. The nurse has to eat, too, you know. It is Thanksgiving, Miss Nealy.”
“I know, Carmela. It's just that there doesn't seem to be a whole lot to be thankful for this year. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Of course there is. It's just that . . .”
“She's still here! That means business as usual. This is the way we do things. You know how particular Miss Maud was when it came to the holidays. She was always partial to Thanksgiving and Christmas. After you and Emmie got here, she was downright prickly when it came to using the good stuff and fancy cooking. Like I said, it's a Blue Diamond Farms tradition. Now, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me? I really don't need any help, so the decision is yours.”
“I guess I'll just take my feet and go upstairs if it's all the same to you. You washed the curtains! Everything is so clean and shiny. I'll tell Maud.”
Carmela made shooing motions with her hands to indicate Nealy should leave the kitchen. Nealy obliged. In the dining room she sat down on one of the twelve chairs surrounding the table and stared at the flowers. Yellow roses with gobs of baby's breath and delicate green fern, Maud's favorite flowers. She herself was partial to tulips.
Nealy reached into her shirt pocket for a cigarette, a disgusting habit she'd picked up several years ago. She didn't smoke much, only when she was under pressure, like today. She'd spent the entire morning in Maud's room, listening to her ragged breathing. She knuckled her eyes to ward off the tears that were threatening to overflow. Surely God wouldn't call her today, Thanksgiving, of all days. She puffed furiously, the left hand holding the heavy coffee mug shaking uncontrollably. She set it down carefully, then crushed out her cigarette in a crystal dish on the sideboard. Her hands were still shaking. She sat on her hands the way Emmie did sometimes when she was being reprimanded.
Shift mental gears, Nealy,
she told herself.
Think about something else. Since today is Thanksgiving, think about changing into something other than Levi's and boots. Emmie, too. Maybe some makeup. A little perfume. Think about dressing up like a girl for a change.
Maud and Jess had been so happy. And now this. It wasn't fair. Good people like Maud and Jess should live forever.
Maybe she should think about her burgeoning bank account. Maybe she should think about how well Emmie was doing in the special school. Or maybe she should think about her brothers and her father. In that order, her account at First Nation Bank was robust, and so was Emmie's account. She'd literally saved all her money from the day she arrived at Blue Diamond Farms and was put on the payroll. She had $64,833 in her account while Emmie had $9,011. Maud had been overly generous with the salary she'd paid her and the bonuses at Christmas. Emmie's was mostly gift monies and her allowance, plus the bonuses Maud insisted she get at Christmas, too. She could buy herself a car or truck if she wanted. She could take Emmie on vacation someplace, maybe Hawaii. She knew she wouldn't do any of those things simply because there was no need to do them. Emmie would absolutely wilt if she wasn't around the farm and the horses. She was a straight A student. Her penmanship was exquisite. Her thirst for learning was unequaled. She whizzed through her homework and never asked for help. She had one friend, a young boy who could speak but couldn't hear. Emmie doted on Buddy. They wrote notes to each other and played together on alternating weekends. Jess approved of Buddy and his family. And, like Emmie, he lived to be around horses and the barns. If Emmie ever thought about her grandfather or her uncles, she never mentioned them. That was another life. It was probably better this way, Nealy realized.
She didn't want to think about her father or her brothers, though she did wonder from time to time if either Pyne or Rhy had married.
Nealy focused on the dining room she was sitting in. Maybe it was time to change the wallpaper and do a little painting. Just to lighten things up a bit. The wallpaper was cracking in the corners and peeling away at the baseboards. Maybe something bright and lively, with some fresh green plants. New curtains instead of the heavy maroon draperies that matched the cushions on the twelve chairs. Maybe, if Jess gave the okay, she could take up the forest green carpeting and have the floors sanded and varnished. Then again, they rarely used the dining room. Maud always liked to eat in the kitchen, where it was warm and cozy, saying the dining room was for company or special occasions. On the other hand, maybe she should leave it alone and wait till the wallpaper fell off.
Nealy stood and turned on the lights. She did love the crystal chandelier over the table. It sparkled now; Carmela must have cleaned it recently. The pudgy housekeeper was a whirling dervish when it came to cleaning for the holidays. The house was always in an uproar, with buckets, rags, and the smell of furniture polish everywhere. Maud hated it. She preferred the smell of cinnamon, coffee beans, and orange peels that Carmela kept in the warming oven.
Nealy sighed. She would get dressed up. For Maud. She'd wear the lavender-wool dress Maud had helped her pick out last year for Christmas. She'd wear the pearls Jess gave her the year before. After all, it was Thanksgiving.
She heard the commotion the minute she stepped off the top step onto the second-floor hallway. She knew the doctor was being summoned, knew by the look on Emmie's face. Jess was nowhere to be seen. “What?” she screamed. Emmie just stared at her, tears streaming down her cheeks.
It was Maud's time.
“Quick, Emmie, you have to help me. Listen to me, honey. There's something we have to do for Miss Maud. Quick now.”
Nealy raced into her room for the tissue-wrapped nightgown and the Strawberry Whip nail polish. She shoved the nurse out of the way and struggled, with Emmie's help, to get the scratchy hospital gown away from Maud's withered body. It seemed to Nealy that Maud was easier to handle as she slipped the nightgown over her head and smoothed it down over her wasted body. When Maud's head rolled to the side, Nealy gasped. She bent over and placed her ear against her chest. Satisfied that she was still breathing, she spoke quietly, gently as she pushed the covers to the foot of the bed before she twisted off the cap of the nail polish. She dipped and swirled the tiny brush as the nurse clucked her disapproval. “Did anyone call the minister?” Nealy demanded.
“Mr. Wooley said he was going to do that. This is highly irregular. The woman is dying. Why are you painting her toenails?” Her voice was so cold, so emotionless, Nealy fought the urge to slap her.
“Does it matter?” Nealy said quietly as she gathered her daughter close. She looked down at Emmie, and whispered, “I want to do something. I don't know what to do. I was going to get dressed up but . . . I thought . . .”
Jess rushed into the room, the minister behind him. The doctor was third in line as he lumbered into the room. He took his position on one side of the bed, the minister on the other. Jess pushed his way to the bed and reached for Maud's hand. Nealy heard the strangled sound, certain it came from Maud, but in reality it came from Jess as he looked down at the bright shiny penny in his wife's hand.
“Oh, Emmie, you gave Maud your penny! Oh God!” Nealy said. Her hands flew to her face as she tried to comprehend her daughter's generosity, then wondered if she should mention that the original penny was locked up in Maud's bedroom safe. She decided it really didn't matter.
Emmie's fingers worked furiously.
To help her feel better when she gets to that strange, new place. Like when Uncle Pyne gave it to me when we came here.
Emmie's fingers continued to move.
Look, Mama, Miss Maud made a fist. That means she knows she has the penny. She's holding it tight in her hand.
Nealy was sure it was a spasm. Through her tears, she thought she saw Maud smile. Another spasm? A grimace? And then she was still. Nealy bit down on her lip.
Emmie tugged at her mother's shirtsleeve. Her fingers moved quickly.
Aren't they pretty, Mama?
“What's pretty, honey?”
Emmie worked her fingers again.
The angels. They're carrying Miss Maud. They're all smiling. They look like pictures on the Christmas cards.
Jess gasped at Emmie, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. “What did she say?” he asked, his voice gruff with unshed tears.
Emmie walked over to the old man and reached for his hand. She pulled him outside into the hallway. Nealy watched as her daughter slowly and carefully worked her fingers for Jess's benefit.
The three angels took Miss Maud. They all smiled, even Miss Maud. They were all gold and white. Miss Maud wiggled her toes. I could see the polish on her toes. The angels smiled when she did that. Miss Maud could move her arms and legs. She waved good-bye. Did you wave good-bye, Mr. Jess?
“Yes,” Jess croaked.
She took my penny with her. She opened her hand, and I saw it. She wanted me to see it.
Nealy felt a chill wash through her body as she watched Jess walk back into the room and over to the bed. He reached for Maud's hand and pried it open. Nealy gaped, her jaw dropping. The penny was gone.
“I need to be alone with Maud for a bit, Nealy. Take Emmie into the kitchen. See the doctor, the minister, and the nurse to the door. I'll take care of things here.”
“Jess . . .”
“Shhh. It's all right. Everything is all right now.”
There was little Nealy could do but obey Jess's instructions.
The minute the door closed behind the threesome, Nealy herded her daughter into the kitchen. Carmela was sitting at the table crying. Emmie dropped to her knees and laid her head in the housekeeper's lap. Nealy put her arms around her and sobbed.
It was four o'clock when they watched the hearse carrying Maud's body drive away.
The employees came then, one by one, never more than two together because Maud's first rule had always been, never leave the horses alone. They picked at the lavish Thanksgiving spread, drank the mulled cider, then left silently.
At nine o'clock, the dining room had been cleared, the leftover food put away, the dishes washed and dried. Carmela poured fresh coffee into thick mugs. They sat quietly staring off into space.
Maud was gone.
 
 
It was a beautiful dream, one she didn't want to end. He smelled sweet as fresh hay and was frisky and playful as she led him out to the paddock. She cupped his head in her hands and gently blew into his nostrils. “Now you will always have my scent,” Nealy said quietly. “Come along, we're going for a walk. Oh oh, here comes big daddy. He wants to make sure I take good care of you. I think he's just being nosy. It's not time for you to run yet. I know you want to, but you can't, and this certainly isn't the place to do it. No, no, he can't run. Stop that! Don't let him run, Stardancer. He's not ready. No!” It was an iron command that was ignored. “Damn!”

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