by Aaron Lazar
When it was over, they lined up in the middle of the ring side by side, waiting for the head judge to make her decisions.
The stocky judge began to affix the ribbons in descending order. Fifth place went to a black gelding, who promptly left the line and began to trot around the ring to thunderous applause.
Fourth went to a dappled gray mare, who repeated the process. Third was pinned to the bridle of a dark chestnut gelding. Now there were just two places to award, and Grace felt her heart pounding. Either she won nothing, or she had placed in the top two positions.
The red ribbon went to a seal brown mare, who trotted obediently out to the ring to join the other winners circling around.
Please. Please. Please. Don’t let me disappoint Dad.
The judge walked up and down the row, full of drama and enjoying the moment. Everyone knew she’d already chosen the winner, but she paused in front of each horse and rider as if deliberating. When she passed Sasha and moved on, Grace’s heart fell.
No. Please.
The judge completed the line and began to walk back. She stopped in front of Sasha, beaming. “Congratulations, Miss Lamont. You’ve won first place.”
Grace was so happy, she didn’t even bother to correct the judge about her name. The woman had recognized her from years ago, and when she looked closer, she realized she was one of the judges she knew from her childhood. A little grayer, older, and more stooped. But the same woman.
“It’s nice to see a Morgan from Bittersweet Hollow joining us in the ring again.”
Grace stuttered her thanks and tipped her hat. “I’m glad to be back. This is one of Mirage’s babies.”
“Thought I recognized that look,” the woman said, clipping the fluttering ribbon to the mare’s bridle. “Now, go take your victory lap.”
Sasha sidestepped and almost shied away from the flapping ribbons on her cheek, but Grace got her under control and let her out into a fast, extended trot, racing around the ring twice before she guided her out the exit, where Dirk stood beaming.
“Congratulations, baby. You did it.”
“Thanks, Daddy. But it was all Sasha. Did you see her? She just wanted to show off, I could feel it.”
“She was wonderful. But you two are a team, and it was your skill that guided her, honey. Great job. I’m so proud of you.”
Grace dismounted and hugged the mare, who turned to push her nose into Grace’s side with affection. A swell of emotion filled her.
Life was good again.
She had a wonderful husband, a beautiful baby, and now she was doing something to help save the farm. For the first time in ages, she felt complete. It was as if all the demons from the past had been purged as she flew around the show ring. She’d beaten them, just like Sasha beat the other horses.
“Thanks, Dad. Now let’s get ready for the next class.”
Chapter 12
Tessie sat in the room beside her sleeping husband. The procedure had gone well, the cardiologists were convinced they’d found all the blockages, and his prognosis was good.
For that, she thanked the good Lord.
She’d sent Boone and Ned home to tend the cows—it was milking time again—and had finally relaxed enough to eat a tuna sandwich from the hospital cafeteria. It hadn’t been half bad, and she washed it down with a bottle of apple juice.
A knock came at the door, followed by a tall man wearing dark rimmed glasses. He smiled at her, but she could tell he was all business.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Hawke. I’m Mr. Mayfield. Could I have a moment of your time?”
Tessie stood and shook the crumbs from her jeans, feeling nervous. “Why, yes. Of course.”
The man certainly didn’t look like a doctor, and she became more anxious by the moment. Would he insist she make the copay now?
No, that wouldn’t make sense. That bill would come from the insurance company.
“Right this way. Let’s go down to my office, if you don’t mind.”
She joined him in the hallway and walked slowly beside him, feeling like a child being called to the principal’s office.
That’s just plain ridiculous. Just buck up, Tessie. It’s all going to be fine.
Her pep talk nearly worked, until she realized the office she entered was “The Office of Hospital Finances.” Her heart sank. What now?
“Please, have a seat.”
She sat gingerly on the edge of the chair, feeling a cold sweat break out on her brow. “What’s this about, Mr. Mayfield?”
He didn’t answer right away, but dialed a number on his desk phone, instead. “There’s a problem with your insurance, Mrs. Hawke. And I thought maybe we could straighten it out together.”
“A problem?”
He nodded, and then spoke into the receiver, pressing the speaker button so Tessie could hear. “Yes, Miss Buttons. I’ve got Mrs. Hawke in the room with me now.”
He turned back to Tessie. “Miss Buttons works for Blue Health, your insurance company. She’s in the billing office.”
“Oh?” Tessie didn’t know what to say. She’d sent in the checks regularly for the past months.
Miss Buttons began to speak. “Mrs. Hawke, I’m sorry to tell you this, but we haven’t received payment for several months now.”
Tessie froze. “Excuse me?”
“We’re looking for three months premiums and if you can’t settle up today, we’ll have to suspend your benefits.”
Tessie felt the tears welling again, and then brushed them away. “That’s impossible. I wrote the checks out myself.”
Miss Buttons replied in an even tone. “I’m very sorry, but we never received them.”
Tessie blanched. “I just don’t understand.”
“Perhaps you’d like to check your records, Mrs. Hawke? See that you never received any canceled checks?”
“Someone must have stolen them from the mailbox,” she said hurriedly. “I saw my husband set the envelopes in there myself. I put them in his hand and he drove right down to the box at the end of the driveway.”
Miss Buttons replied as if she’d heard every story imaginable in her years. “I see. Well, then. Perhaps you’d like to make reparations over the phone right now?”
Tessie’s heart kicked up a notch and she spoke as if to herself. “I still don’t understand.”
“The total is $3,315.00, Mrs. Hawke.”
She looked down at her hands, willing herself not to cry in front of this man who watched her with bird-like eyes. “I don’t have it,” she said softly. “But I plan to sell my car. It should bring in just about the right amount.”
Miss Buttons turned all business, with no more courtesy and not a hint of empathy. “I’m sorry. You’ll receive a registered letter tomorrow with the cancellation notice. There are State programs that might help you, I’m sure Mr. Mayfield can put you in touch with some of them.”
Mr. Mayfield depressed the speaker button and spoke quietly to Miss Buttons for a moment before hanging up. He turned to Tessie, his hands folded on the desk before him. “I’m afraid we’ll have to make arrangements for payment, Mrs. Hawke. Would a monthly payment plan suit you?”
Tessie nodded dumbly. “I guess so. How much is the bill?”
“Not all the charges have come in yet, but it will be somewhere in the range of twenty-seven thousand dollars for your husband’s procedure and subsequent treatment.”
She didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak.
“We can arrange a payment plan that will extend ten years.”
Tessie didn’t hear a word that followed. She just turned it all off, hearing herself repeat over and over again…we’re going to lose the farm.
∞∞∞
Portia kept an eye on the driveway, waiting for Boone’s truck to roll in. He’d finished the chores at his family farm and was due home any minute.
She stretched, feeling sore. While Daisy kept an eye out for Joey and Caroline, who’d slept for a good two hours this afternoon, she’d mucked out all fo
urteen of the horse stalls, fed all of the animals, and had just come down from the shower ten minutes ago.
The aroma of roasted chicken filled the air, mingled with gravy and broccoli. Her mom had managed to cook the meal in spite of how worn out she seemed today. Now she sat in the armchair in the living room, dozing.
Joey and Caroline gathered around a pile of blocks near her mother’s feet. Portia checked on them every few minutes, but they seemed happy enough. Caroline watched while Joey piled plastic blocks up high, and then dashed them down with a gleeful shout.
Thankfully, it didn’t wake her mother.
Portia worried about her. Although her cancer had checked out as being in remission last month, there was always the chance it would flare up again. She prayed hard every night that the Lord would spare Daisy having to go through the treatment again. The experimental drugs had worked, but they devastated her system, making her exceptionally weak after each session. And it meant her parents had to go all the way to New York City for weeks at a time, leaving the horse farm to be tended by Boone and her. Now that planting time was in full force, there were the field duties to tend to as well as barn chores. Portia didn’t think she could manage working, taking care of the horses, and still do a good job as a mother.
And what would she do now? If Tessie had to nurse Orville back to health at home, or if he were forbidden from working on the farm for a while, she surely wouldn’t be able to take care of Joey and Caroline, would she?
I might have to give up my new job. Just when I was getting the hang of it.
Portia shook off the worries and began to set the table. Her father and Grace were due home soon, too. She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to relax. She didn’t want to bring them down after their big win today at the horse show.
Boone’s truck trundled into the driveway and pulled in by the barn. He came in with a smile and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Sorry if I smell like the barn. But I figured I have to take care of the horses now, anyway. So, I didn’t clean up.”
“No worries,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “I already took care of the horses.”
His face lit up. “Seriously?”
“Yup. It’s all done.”
“You are an angel.”
“I know.” She let out a laugh and pushed him away. “You do need a shower, sweetie. Run upstairs and rinse off and I’ll start getting your plate ready.”
Grace and Dirk arrived minutes later, parked the trailer out back, and unloaded Sasha. After fifteen minutes of tending to the winning mare, they both ambled in with tired smiles.
“Congratulations, guys.” Portia reached out to hug them both.
“Thanks,” Grace said.
Her sister looked so happy, Portia’s heart swelled. “You did it, honey. You stirred up some interest in Mirage and his progeny. I already received one call today.”
Dirk’s smile widened. “Honest?”
“Yes. They’re coming next week to take a look at the new foals.”
He clapped his hands together. “Halleluiah! I never thought it would happen so fast.”
“Well, it’s not a sale until you have the money in the bank, Dad.” Portia leaned over to peck his cheek. “But it’s a start.”
Daisy’s voice came from the doorway leading to the living room. “It is, indeed.” She stepped toward her husband and Grace and hugged them both. “Now, let’s sit down to a nice dinner together and you can tell us all about it.”
Chapter 13
At seven-thirty that evening, Ned returned to the hospital. His father lay awake in bed, Tessie’s hand holding his.
A lump formed in his throat when he watched them from the doorway for a few minutes. That kind of love seemed impossible these days. He’d been seeking it for a while now, and so far, no luck.
His most recent girlfriend, Marlene, had been okay. He’d never felt the “spark” his mother always talked about, but she’d always been a pleasant companion. Kind of cute, funny, and full of energy. Except last fall, she told him she’d fallen for someone else. A woman, no less.
He’d been shocked, of course. But he hadn’t cared that she was a lesbian, and it hadn’t made him feel less of a man, like the television shows always implied. But it had hurt. They’d been together for nearly five years.
He moved into the room, glad to see a faint smile on his father’s face. “Hey, Dad. How’re you feeling?”
“Doing okay, son. A little weak, but better. They had me up and walking an hour ago, can you believe that?”
Tessie kissed her husband’s hand, and then rose to hug Ned. “Hi, sweetie. You two do okay alone at the barn tonight?”
His parents used to have two hired hands who helped out with the milking and fields, but lately with money so tight, they’d had to let them go. Getting through the work of four men hadn’t been easy, but he and Boone had done it.
“Sure, Mom. No sweat.” He leaned forward to take his father’s hand. “You look better, Dad. You’ve got some color.”
A voice came from the doorway. “He should look better. His blood is flowing properly now.”
He turned to see Dr. Rollins, the woman who’d spoken to them in the waiting room so many hours ago. Without thinking, he strode forward to shake her hand. It was soft and strong. “Thank you so much for what you did, Doctor.”
Was that what you did with doctors who’d just saved your father’s life? Or was it too forward? Heck, people treated these folks like gods, and in some ways, that’s how they seemed to him, too.
She gave him a surprisingly brilliant smile. “You’re most welcome, er…”
“Ned,” he said. “Ned Hawke.”
The woman was too pretty to be real. He’d noticed before, of course, but at the time he’d been so worried about his father the awareness had passed through him like a deep underwater current. Her glossy blond hair hung on her shoulders now, released from the ponytail she’d had it in earlier. And her eyes, a deep chocolate brown, searched his.
“Are you a farmer, too, Ned?”
Surprised that she’d speak to him like a normal person, he laughed. “I am, Dr. Rollins. Born and bred.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And you folks may call me Alma.”
“Alma?” Tessie said. “I haven’t heard that name in years.”
The doctor smiled. “I'm named for my grandmother.”
Orville sat up against his pillows. “I think it’s a pretty name.”
Ned stepped a little closer. “So do I. It’s different. I like it.”
She flushed, to his surprise, and then went back to business, approaching Orville’s bedside. “Okay, well, this is probably the last time I’ll see you, Mr. Hawke.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Doc. And call me Orville.”
“Right, of course. Orville, I’ve just reviewed your labs and spoken with your nurses. You’re doing beautifully. I’m approving your release tomorrow morning.”
“Er, Alma?” Ned said, standing at her side. “Is there a number we can reach you at if we have any questions?”
She turned a sweet smile on him. “Sure there is.” She scribbled a number on a corner of the paper on her pad and tore it off, placing it in his hand. “You folks can call me anytime.” She disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived, leaving Ned feeling shell-shocked.
A soft voice came over the speakers, announcing the end of visiting hours.
“Ned?” His father chuckled and called his name again when he didn’t respond. “Get your head out of the clouds, boy, and take your poor mother home.”
“Yes, sir.”
∞∞∞
In silence, they drove home and ambled up to the house. A lone cow mooed in the distance and the stars shone bright against the dark velvet sky. They entered the kitchen that smelled of home, and Tessie turned to her son to hug him. “Thanks for all you did today, son.”
“Of course, Mom. Now try to get some rest, okay?”
“You, too. And
enjoy your dreams about that pretty doctor.”
He snorted a laugh. “Think she’s married?”
“I don’t think so. After all, she gave you her number, son.”
He chuckled. “Do you think that was real? I mean…”
“I know what you mean. Only way you’ll find out is to give her a call and ask her out for coffee.”
Ned grinned. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot. Well, see you in the morning. How about I bring you to the hospital to get Dad after chores?”
“Sounds good.”
“I can’t believe they’re sending him home so soon. It’s like a miracle.” He gave her another quick hug, and then stepped back. “I love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too, honey.” She kissed his cheek. “Sleep tight.”
She watched him make his way down the hall to his bedroom, and then headed for her own room. When she undressed, she noticed a card on the floor near the base of the sink. She picked it up, and recognized the name of the lady at the talent agency. Susie Cromwell. Her financial problems came flooding back. How would she manage to survive?
A terrible thought struck her.
I could bring the children in, let them be photographed, and maybe make enough money to get us through the next few months.
Guilt spread through her like a drop of ink in a pool of water.
But what could it hurt? Who would know the difference?
She pictured her mother standing over her, shaking a finger in her face. “You’re being deceitful, daughter. That money would belong to the children’s parents. Not to you.”
But Joey is my grandchild, isn’t he? He’s my flesh and blood.
She stalked into the bedroom and stuffed the card into the top drawer of her bureau.
I mustn’t.
But what if we lose the farm? That won’t be good for Boone or Ned. It’s their legacy.
She took the card out again and studied it until she was sure it was burning her fingers.
No. I can’t do it.
She settled into bed and laid the card on the table beside her. In the morning, it would all seem clearer, right?
Flicking off the lamp, she fluffed up her pillows and tried to get comfortable. Since they were married, she’d never slept without Orville at her side. How would she make it through the night without his comforting presence beside her?
