Blades of Bluegrass

by D. Jackson Leigh

  Teddy’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t sell her to the knacker, would you?” Her expression was incredulous and her tone accusing. Even so, Britt couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up or let the opportunity pass to tweak Teddy’s naive conclusion.

  “Knacker? God, I haven’t heard that word since I saw Black Beauty at the movies when I was a kid. The knacker came for animals already dead, and I think you’re asking if I’d sell her to a slaughterhouse. Mysty would make a lot of dog food, but no. God, no.” Britt wagged her finger at Teddy. “And you might go to hell for even thinking that while standing in the bluegrass state.”

  Teddy frowned, then stuck her tongue out at Britt. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m just learning about all this.”

  “Oh. Okay. That’s good to know.”

  A loud clanging drew their attention to the house, where Lynn stood on the porch, vigorously ringing an honest-to-God dinner bell. E.B. emerged from one of the barns and began walking toward the sound.

  “Lynn doesn’t wait for stragglers. She puts dinner on the table, then heads home to feed her own family.” Britt motioned for Teddy to join her in heading that way. “Come on. Her chicken pot pie is fantastic.”

  “I love chicken pot pie!” Teddy’s smile was brilliant, and Britt shoved her hand into her jeans pocket to quell the overwhelming impulse to take Teddy’s hand in hers as they responded to Lynn’s summons together.

  Chapter Five

  She looked up at the quick raps on the door frame. Shannon stood in the doorway of her office.

  “Hey, babe. Thought I’d drop in to say good-bye.”

  Teddy stood and rounded her desk, flinging herself at her wife. “No. I don’t want you to go. Stay here. Stay with me.”

  Shannon’s arms were strong, hugging her close, then pushing her away. “You know I have to go. Orders are orders. It’ll be okay.”

  “No, no, it won’t.” Teddy reached for her again, grabbing at Shannon’s desert camos to hold her there, but it was like grabbing at air.

  Shannon was smiling, backing away, waving. “Gotta go. You’ll be okay.”

  Knocking sounded again. Not Shannon’s jaunty knock, but an ominous rap-rap, long pause, rap-rap.

  She was standing in her living room, their living room. Rap-rap, long pause.

  Two uniformed men were visible through the double windows. Rap-rap, long pause.

  No, no, no. Rap-rap, long pause.

  Maybe they’d leave if she didn’t go to the door. Rap-rap, long pause.

  She couldn’t stop her feet from carrying her across the room. Rap-rap, long pause.

  Don’t open the door, don’t open the door. Go away. The words she wanted to scream were stuck in her throat. Her hand reached for the doorknob. Don’t open the door. Don’t open the door.

  The door swung open, and the uniformed men stared at her. The older man’s mouth was moving. “We’re sorry to inform you…”

  She looked past them, where sunlight spilled across the yard, their yard. Shannon was there, waving and backing away toward the street. “Gotta go, babe. You’ll be okay.”

  No, no, NO!

  Teddy jerked upright in the bed, her pulse hammering, her face wet with tears. She sucked in a breath. She put her hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow. Movement in the semi-dark caught her attention, and she realized she wasn’t alone. Moonlight silhouetted a figure in the doorway. Shannon?

  “Are you okay?” Britt spoke low and soft.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?” Teddy’s heart slowed, then sank a bit as her confusion evaporated and Shannon was gone. Gone forever.

  Britt’s eyes were dark in the half-light. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

  Teddy wished she hadn’t been. Then she wouldn’t have fallen into the same horrible dream.

  Britt repeated her question. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Teddy used the bedsheet to dry her face. “No.” She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly to stop the sob that wanted to surface. Another breath. “But I will be. I’ll be okay.”

  Britt stood in the doorway another long second, then silently pulled the door closed, leaving Teddy alone with her ghosts.

  * * *

  Breakfast was a quiet, tense affair. At first, Teddy made an effort to be pleasant, but she lapsed into silence and made a show of eating once Pop served up the food. She looked tired. No, she looked haggard, and she wouldn’t meet Britt’s eyes. Was she afraid Britt would tell someone about her nightmare? Or was she just embarrassed?

  Britt looked up from her eggs and realized Pop was eyeing Teddy. She could see the questions in his eyes. When he opened his mouth to speak, Britt was consumed with an overwhelming urge to protect Teddy’s privacy.

  “Word is that a Tapit filly might be coming off the track and up for auction at Keeneland in a few weeks. You know that line has good legs.” Horse talk could always distract Pop.

  “What’s in her dam’s bloodline?” Pop asked, his attention immediately diverted from Teddy.

  “Hits all the speed marks—traces back to Terlinqua.”

  “Is that good?” Teddy asked, drawing out of her funk. “I mean, I don’t know a lot about horse racing, but I’ve been to plenty of Derby parties. It’s sort of like going to a Super Bowl party for the fun and not because you care about who wins. Still, I don’t recognize any of those names.”

  Britt felt pleased, though she couldn’t imagine why, that Teddy seemed genuinely interested. “Her sire, Tapit, had a modest racing career, but made his name by passing down great genes from farther up his line—Seattle Slew and War Admiral and, ultimately, Man O’War, who was known for his racing record and for passing along his gene for strong legs.”

  Teddy smiled, and the dullness in her eyes seemed to fall away like scales. “I’ve heard of them…well, Seattle Slew and Man O’War.”

  Britt found herself smiling back. “On her dam’s side, Terlinqua was directly descended from Secretariat and recognized as one of the most successful brood mares ever. She was great-great-grandam of the 2015 Triple Crown winner American Pharoah.”

  “I saw American Pharoah win the Kentucky Derby. Wow. What would a mare with those bloodlines cost? Or is that impolite to ask.”

  Pop shook his head. “Not impolite, but maybe too much. What’s her race record?”

  “Not that great. Her trainer was Russ Bailey, so it’s no shock that she’s gate shy,” Britt said. “Won her first race, but she was disqualified for her second race because they couldn’t get her in the gate. Bailey tried a third race, but she injured her leg jumping around once they got her in the gate.”

  “That son of a bitch. What idiot owner gave him that horse to train?”

  Britt shrugged. “It won’t hurt to at least go and see if we can bid on her. Maybe she hasn’t drawn much attention since she hasn’t done well on the track, and maybe the idiot who put her with that trainer will sell her cheap.”

  She waited, aware that Teddy’s gaze was bouncing between the two of them, while Pop spread jam on his toast and mulled over the information. Finally, he nodded. “You up to it? If I show up and bid on her, it might draw too much attention and up the price. You haven’t been around for a while, so maybe you won’t get noticed.”

  “Sure. I’m up to it. I’ll keep an eye out to see if my source was right and her name turns up on the auction registry.”

  * * *

  Teddy gently worked the scar at the end of Britt’s residual limb, lightly tapping and rubbing to desensitize the scar as she massaged the truncated bicep. “Your surgeon did an exceptional job on your arm. It’s healing really well.”

  She almost swallowed the words as soon as she said them. Every time she mentioned the surgeon that Britt’s father had flown in to perform her amputation, Britt slipped into a dark mood. Teddy wasn’t sure if receiving special treatment not available to other wounded soldiers made her angry, or if it was the fact that her father had made decisions for her while she was too drugged up to protest
.

  She was surprised when Britt, lying on the portable treatment table Teddy had set up, simply hummed a faint acknowledgement. The scar massage had to be uncomfortable. Some patients sweated through it. Was she in a meditative zone, or was she just that happy about finding the horse they’d talked about at breakfast?

  Teddy studied her patient. Britt’s eyes were closed, but her face appeared so relaxed in the sunlight that cast a soft glow across the table. She wouldn’t call Britt pretty. Girls were pretty. Britt was…more. She was mature, her visage noble. Teddy could easily picture her as an Amazon warrior with a bow and quiver slung across her back or a Celtic shield maiden dressed in silver mail and armed with a long sword or…

  Britt opened her eyes and stared at Teddy as if she’d heard her thoughts. Her pupils contracted in the sunlight, leaving her eyes impossibly, brilliantly blue. Teddy was transfixed, snared by those azure pools. Holy Mother, Britt was beautiful.

  “Do you want to go with me?”

  Teddy blinked. “Go with?” She sounded like an echo chamber.

  “Me. Go with me. To the auction at Keeneland. If that mare shows up on the roster.”

  Teddy peeled her eyes away from Britt’s. “That sounds like fun.” Too much time in the sun can burn. Too much gazing into those eyes was already melting her insides. She helped Britt sit up and fussed with replacing the compression sock on Britt’s arm. “I mean, the more I can learn about what you do, the better we can tailor your functional prosthesis to meet your needs.” She looked up when Britt didn’t respond. They stared at each other for a long minute before Teddy forced herself to again look away, anywhere but into those eyes that bored into her soul. “Take off your T-shirt.”

  Britt’s eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry. What?”

  Teddy cleared her throat and tried for a less hoarse, more professional tone. “You need to wear the prosthesis for at least four hours today. But before I help you put it on, I need to check your shoulders and chest to see where it chafed you yesterday.”

  “First you want to see my stump, and now you want to check out my chest?”

  “Residual limb. Not stump. I can make adjustments in the harness that might help the chafing.” Despite her best efforts to remain professional, she felt her neck, ears, and cheeks heating. Wait. Was Britt teasing her? Was she…flirting? Teddy mock-scowled. “Or I can make adjustments that will chafe places you wouldn’t want rubbed raw.”

  Britt chuckled. “You blush so easily, I couldn’t resist.” She pulled her T-shirt over her head, revealing a white sports bra that did little to hide her erect nipples.

  Teddy’s mouth went dry. She circled the table under the pretense of examining Britt’s back, the muscles flexing as Britt looked over her shoulder at Teddy. “Seems fine except for where this strap goes under your other arm. I’ve ordered a different harness that I think you’ll find better suited to your physique. I’ll go pick it up when my boss lets me know it arrived. Until then, you still need to wear the old one. I can add some foam padding to that pressure point in the meantime.” She circled back around the table, making a show of examining other potential pressure points without staring at Britt’s nipples.

  Britt sighed. Her eyes were darker since she’d turned her back to the sunlight, but still beautiful. “If I must.”

  Teddy nodded once in a curt affirmative. “You must.” She held up Britt’s T-shirt but let her pull it on by herself. Small tasks like that were all exercises that stretched the residual limb muscles and kept them from shortening and limiting the range of motion. She watched and coached a little as Britt obligingly added the harness over the T-shirt, fitted the prosthetic arm onto her residual limb, and hooked it to the harness. “What’s on your agenda today?”

  “I’m going down to the stables to check on a few things.”

  “Excellent. I’ll tag along.”

  “You can go down there any time you like. You don’t have to wait for me to give you a tour.”

  Teddy frowned. How many times would she have to explain this? “I’m an occupational therapist as well as a physical therapist. I’m here, rather than you coming to my office, so I can observe and figure out how you can complete your usual tasks with one hand that previously required two. You might need a modified tool in addition to simply rethinking the way you do something.”

  Britt stared at the floor. Teddy felt Britt, like most amputee victims, was struggling with her pride more than her injury. But she couldn’t let Britt lose her internal battle.

  “And maybe I could talk you into giving me a riding lesson?”

  Though Britt didn’t look up, Teddy could still see the small smile. Good. She felt like she was walking a tightrope with Britt, like any small thing she might suggest could tip the scales between them from friendship to instant rejection.

  “I reckon I can do that.”

  Teddy had no doubt that Britt saw through the ruse to push her out of the office and back onto a horse and was grateful that Britt seemed at last ready to take that step under the guise of giving her a riding lesson.

  “I know just the horse for you. Pop’s got an older mare from the Whirlaway line.” Britt pulled a long-sleeved cotton shirt over the T-shirt and harness but didn’t button it.

  “Whirlaway? That doesn’t sound good. The name’s not descriptive of how the horse behaves, is it?” Teddy followed when Britt stood and headed for the door without answering. “You know that if you damage me, they’ll just send someone else out.”

  Britt looked back over her shoulder as she started down the stairs. “Really?”

  “Somebody not as good as I am.”

  Britt laughed.

  “In fact,” Teddy said. “It probably would be Bruiser. Big guy…not very smart.”

  Britt stopped at the bottom of the stairs and cocked her head as if considering this threat. She tossed Teddy a quick smile and a shrug. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  * * *

  Teddy pointed at the screen on the portable ultrasound. “I see it. Right there.” She turned to the veterinarian, Gail Dodge, who was manipulating the instrument.

  “Yep. Everything appears good,” Gail said. “Looks like Story Hill Farm will have quite a crop of babies come spring.” She extracted the vaginal probe from the mare and wiped her down before Britt led the mare back to her stall.

  “I’ve got questions if you get a chance.” Gail kept an eye on Britt’s location while she whispered her request.

  Teddy gave a quick nod but didn’t answer because Britt was on her way back to them.

  “You staying around?” Gail asked Britt as she neared them. “The old man could use some help these days.” She raised her voice to make sure E.B., who was muttering as he came in behind them, heard her. “He’s getting senile, you know.”

  “Watch who you’re calling senile,” E.B. growled. “You’re no spring chicken yourself. When are you going to retire and let that boy of yours run things?”

  “I’m ten years younger than you, and when I quit working, my idiot husband has got it in his head that we’re going to buy one of those big RV buses and tour the country. Until he gets a clue, I’ll keep working. I’ve spent my whole career driving from farm to farm. If Wade wants me to retire and go somewhere with him, he’d better buy me a plane ticket and book a fancy hotel room.”

  It was obvious to Teddy that the barbs were good-natured, but she looked to Britt for an explanation.

  “Gail is Pop’s cousin,” Britt said. “They’ve been picking at each other since they were kids.”

  “How would a young whippersnapper like you know that? Your daddy wasn’t even a gleam in E.B.’s eye when we were kids.”

  “Grandma used to tell me and anyone who’d listen about you two.”

  Gail’s smile was soft. “Grace would know.” Her eyes followed E.B. as he ducked into the tack room. “Her favorite story was about my daddy telling our teacher that if she wanted E.B. and me to quit picking on each other and pay attention, all she had
to do was sit on a horse while she taught class.”

  E.B. emerged from the tack room with a halter in his hand that he shook at Gail. “Don’t be running off my help, Gail. I just got her to come home.” He pointed to Britt. “I need you for a minute.” When Britt hesitated, he clarified. “I want your opinion on something.”

  “I’ll help Dr. Dodge get this stuff in her truck, then come find you,” Teddy said when Britt looked to see if she was going to follow.

  Britt spared one last glance at Gail. “I’m home for good if I can get the army to agree to it.” She turned and followed E.B.

  Gail stared after her, then turned to Teddy. “Is she okay?”

  Teddy considered the question. “Physically, she’s recovering fine.”

  Gail nodded. “E.B. says missing that arm isn’t her worst hurt. Something else is going on. That girl has always worshipped her father, Brock, but E.B. says there’s some really bad blood between them now, and neither of them will talk about it.”

  Teddy rubbed the back of her neck. Colonel Winstead had the same suspicion. “I don’t know anything about that. I haven’t met Senator Story, and even if Britt had confided in me, I couldn’t ethically tell you or her grandfather.”

  “I understand.” Gail packed up the ultrasound machine and handed Teddy a stainless-steel bucket of soapy water she’d used to wash her hands and instruments. “Empty that in the wash stall, will you?” She began to fill the arm-length plastic glove she’d worn for the examination with the detritus of her work, then tossed it into the empty bucket, along with some small instruments. Gail could have easily carried both the ultrasound and the bucket, but she handed the bucket to Teddy, who obediently followed her to the veterinary truck.

  “I know we can’t expect her to be the same after all she must have seen over there in Afghanistan, but she brought back a heavy burden on her shoulders. Those of us who know her can see it. All we’re asking is that you let us know if we need to watch out for her after the damn army’s done with her.”