She deliberately snuck and drank a lot of sparkling wine in her pretty dresses….even if she wasn't allowed. Just to make Patrick mad. Super-mad.
She said "ain't" as many times as she found an opportunity. But none of it did her any good at all. He looked at her with his beautiful violet eyes that never lost their determination.
He kept referring to her Scotch-Irish background as a reason to help her make herself better. It was, she decided, as if he decided he was going to save all those Scotch-Irish who came to America and found themselves in coal mines and change them to aristocrats through her. Patrick, it appeared, had decided that he would right all the bad things from the past by forcing her to go to school and "better herself."
Patrick now seemed to be of the thought that the Appalachians were his personal mission to be fulfilled and Jolene was the focus of his works. He lectured her about it every time she put up an argument.
He was on a mission that he simply would not surrender in any measure.
He worried about the Appalachians, he said. His kin. She was "one of his kind" and he was going to "improve her mind and life."
Like what did that mean? She hadn't a clue.
And didn't care.
He seemed to have completely forgotten that night of the Derby when he touched her and eased the ache that was near killing her.
She had come to realize it was not seeing Coal Minor and the Mare that caused her physical problems; it was transposing herself and Patrick into that role that caused her to ache in the nasty-girl spot.
And she wanted him to touch her like that again...so bad.
But he had turned cold as ice and as determined as a mule.
Her new red hard-shell-spinning suitcase sat at the foot of the steps along with her toiletry bag and new leather purse. To look at them caused Jolene to be near overwhelmed with panic.
Patrick was grim from his somber blue eyes to his flat lips. She imagined even his khaki pants were stiff from his inner iron.
The SUV had been brought around and sat in front of the house waiting like a specter to take Jolene away…far away. To make up for some terrible wrong imagined by Patrick that he thought he could make up to Jolene by giving her an education.
It was just so weird and frustrating. And she had hopes of escape right up until she saw the fancy new hard-shell suitcase in the foyer….
Jolene didn't even have Mata to help persuade him in this final hour to halt this terrible plan to send her away because he had given Mata the day off.
Maybe if she could stop Patrick from putting her in that SUV, she would not have to go.
When he stepped into the foyer and reached for her suitcase, she grabbed his arm with fierce fingers and pinned him with eyes that were already swimming in tears. "Wait Patrick. Please just wait."
He regarded her with desolate eyes. "Don't start arguing with me again Jolene. I'll not have any of it, so I won't."
"I am not an Indian."
"Appalachians are not Indians Jolene….which is the perfect fact to illustrate why you need to go to school…you are a sharp girl…smarter than a body should be, but you have no education...you call body parts "nasty-girl" and I canno' let it go on like this. Now I am going to make things right."
She leaned into him willing to do anything to stay. "I don't understand Patrick, why won't you listen to me? Why are you doing this to me?"
His arms closed around her. "Oh don't you see Jolene? Yer a young woman now. Yer clinging to me and this farm because you lost everything. But that isn't a way for yer to grow up to be a fine woman."
Jolene squeezed him with all her might. She held him with all of the loss and sorrow of the past.
She could not live away from the farm again…and she could not, just could not live without him. He was all she had. Why could he not understand?
Jolene sobbed harder and held Patrick like a life raft in a stormy sea. "Oh Patrick, please do not do this to me. Tell me what I can do to change your mind….I can go to school here…I can!"
Patrick looked down at her, his eyes glowing violet sad. He gently ran his fingers through her fired ringlets. Then he slowly leaned down and tenderly kissed her lips, his eyes locking her in blue fire. Jolene felt the world drop away and she was dangling inside of his violet heat.
Patrick gently set her away while keeping her trapped in his gaze. "You see there Jolene? This is why. Canno you see? Yer just a little girl, no matter what you think about being grown up. You have not seen the world. I've a mind to send you to travel through Europe and end in Ireland."
"But I liked it a lot when you touched me Patrick...you know ... that night after the Derby."
"Shush now about that. I am ashamed Jolene. I should not have done that to yer. But I wanted you to know something about these things, how good it could be to be loved by the right man."
"It did stop that itch I had a'tween my legs."
Patrick closed his eyes. "Get into the truck, we are leaving."
He opened his eyes stern and unrelenting. "This is exactly why I must send yer away. T'is for the best to be sure."
She shook her head in denial. She was not sure what she was going to say but when she opened her mouth to speak he held his hand up to stop her words. "I have to let you go now and find yerself. Being here with me, nearly all grown up…well…I cannot let it happen like that. You need to learn about things you can and cannot say."
"If this is about the nasty-girl thing Patrick..."
His eyes flashed blue lightning. "Stop this instant Jolene....don't say those words again, not to me, nor to anyone!"
Jolene was numb with sensations that shot through her with slow drugging ferocity battling with the panic of leaving. She trembled wanting more than anything for him to kiss her again.
And here she thought kissing would not be any fun at all!
It had sent her soul through the stars like a blazing comet. Actually.
"I liked your kissing me too."
"You see Jolene, that is just what I am talking about. That is why you must go to school and learn about the world and find yerself."
"I don't see anything at all Patrick except that I think you kissing me means you will miss me too."
Patrick closed his eyes and moved his hands from her as if it was the most difficult thing he had ever done. He turned like the tin man in the Wizard of Oz and picked up her bags, breaking the spell that had nearly taken them on a voyage that Jolene suspected would not end with them in the SUV going to school. "You will understand someday Jolene," he said in an equally tin voice. "For now, it is time to get into that truck and I'll not hear another word. Not another word, mind you!"
He rolled her bag out the way he wanted her to do it…perfectly with her back straight…and carried the other by the handle and stowed them in the SUV.
The urge to run away from him nearly overwhelmed Jolene in that instant…ideas of hiding out secretly in the barn flitted across her mind…
She would hide from him by day and come to sleep there by night.
Patrick put his hands on his hips and looked at her iron-handed through the open front door. "Get into the SUV, Jolene, this instant."
"What if I don't?"
"Where you going to go?"
"I don't know."
"It won't be here. I cannot stop you if you run away…but you had a promise you made to me…you don't keep your promises Jolene?"
Jolene stamped her foot.
Aunt Paula always lied.
She lied so much.
Made promises she never kept.
Jolene might be many things, but she was no liar.
And she would never let herself be like Aunt Paula.
"I hate you so much Patrick."
He drove her to submission with his icy blue glare. She grabbed her purse from the floor and stomped out to the SUV. After buckling herself in she sat stiffly staring out of the window while Patrick locked the door.
Panic, heartbreak, disbelief, but mostly anger battered her spinning
head. She had never fainted in her life but felt so lightheaded she was sure she might faint. Nausea caused her to roll the window down and let in the fall air as they drove down the long driveway.
"I know you don't understand Jolene, but I promise yer this is for yer own good."
Jolene clapped her hands over her ears. "I can't hear you Patrick."
"Yer don't need to hear me Little Red because I already said it to you enough times."
"I don't hear you Patrick. Hum, hum, hum."
Chapter 12
Bourbon County was formed on October 17, 1785 from sections of Fayette County, Virginia, and named after the French House of Bourbon, in gratitude for Louis XVI of France's assistance during the American Revolutionary War. Bourbon became part of the new state of Kentucky when it was created in 1792.
Bourbon whiskey derives its name from the original Bourbon County, which in 1786 covered most of what is now northeastern Kentucky but was still part of Virginia. The area later became known as Old Bourbon in reference to its historical expanse. Whiskey was an early product of the area, and whiskey barrels from the area were marked Old Bourbon when they were shipped downriver from the local port on the Ohio River. As it was made mostly from corn (maize), it had a distinctive flavor, and the name bourbon came to be used to distinguish it from other regional whiskey styles, such as Monongahela, a product of western Pennsylvania, which may have generally been a rye whiskey. The use of the term Old in the phrase Old Bourbon, was likely misconstrued as a reference to the aging of the whiskey rather than part of the name of the geographic area. The port, originally known as Limestone, now Maysville, was in Bourbon County until the borders were redrawn in 1789 when it became part of the Mason County of Virginia, and it is now in Mason County, Kentucky. Thirty-four modern Kentucky counties were once part of the original Bourbon County, including the current county of that name.
"Hello. What is your name and where are you from?" The young woman with a British accent and thick blonde locks cut into a cute fluffy bob stepped in front of Jolene as she entered her assigned dorm room. Her laughing golden eyes swept over Jolene with a curious inventory.
"I am Jolene." Jolene stepped around the blonde dragging her rolling bag and ran into a second young woman, shorter with light brown shoulder length hair and blue eyes peering intently from behind fashionable glasses that reminded Jolene of an eye glass advertisement. "Well Jolene, I am Helen and the girl gaping and blocking the doorway is Natasha."
"We have been here a week and wondering who the third neighbor was going to be." Natasha offered the information coming back into the room to sit on what presumably was her bed.
Jolene turned back to Natasha and smiled slightly. "I didn't want to come here and talked Patrick into delaying it for another week until my classes officially start."
She looked around the room. It was a comfortable room, painted in powder blue with a few mountain scene prints gracing the walls. Two of the beds had personal items lingering around the shelves and lockers tucked under the beds and the end tables.
Patrick laughed from the doorway. "Yes you did and a fine job so yer did, I knew you were scheming to stay home longer."
Jolene spun around, her aching heart thudding.
Maybe Patrick had changed his mind and wasn't going to leave her here after all. "I thought you had left already."
Patrick stepped into the room smiling at Jolene's new roommates. "Yes, I know. Yer ran off while I was checking yer in and didn't even wait for me to roll yer bag. I wanted to make sure you were settled in nice and tight before I left."
Natasha and Helen stared at Patrick the way most women did, with gaping mouths and pink cheeks. It was too much to tolerate. Jolene felt her heat rising. Why didn't he just go away now that he had officially sentenced her?
Helen pointed to the bed in the corner. "That is your bed…sorry, we did pick the two best ones when we got here."
The bed in the corner was neatly made with white crisp cotton sheets under a down blanket. No cheap boarding school was this. Vance Catholic was nestled deep in the countryside of Ohio just three hours drive from Lexington.
Jolene rolled her case to her bed that had a set of shelves and a wooden locker with four drawers at the foot and storage drawers underneath. "I understand. I don't need a window 'cause there ain't nothing I want to look at here."
Patrick cleared his throat and came over to put her suitcase on the small end table next to her bed. "This looks like a nice room Jolene and you have two new fine friends."
Jolene glared at Patrick who smiled as if the world was right and he wasn't forcing her nearly into prison…just on a promise! She was 19 but Storm was his, thus, his winnings and any other profits that came from studding him or anything else would all belong to Patrick. In short, he need not have struck a bargain with her so she would have been forced to live here or go back with Aunt Paula. "Okay, you can see where I am so now you can leave."
Natasha gasped. Helen tucked her hair behind her ear and gaped with huge blue eyes. "Well, we'll be back after you say goodbye to your….your…."
Patrick smiled even while anger simmered in his eyes. "I am her guardian-friend … of sorts."
Natasha pulled Helen toward the door. "Right. Well then, maybe we should go and let you two say goodbye."
Jolene held Patrick's gaze through his silent warning. "No need to leave. We are saying goodbye right now."
Patrick's jaw worked under his annoyance. "I know you are mad at me Jolene, but someday soon yer going to see this was good for yer."
Natasha shook her head. "That is exactly what my father said."
Jolene dropped her purse off of her shoulder to meet the floor with a sad thud. She was ready to cry but she sure wasn't going to slobber all over Patrick…the jerk! "Patrick, if you want to help me right now you would leave."
He stepped closer, sadness turning his eyes dark purple. "Not until at least I get a hug from yer, cause I'll not be seeing you till the next holiday."
He held out his arms and Jolene sobbed, then rushed into his arms crying in earnest. "How can you do this to me Patrick? I don't need no school! I should have told you that I didn't want to go to college no more, I want to stay on the farm with you…." She hiccupped. "And Bernie and Stooorm!"
Patrick squeezed her tight and patted her shoulder under his hand. "Red, you need an education. Remember all that study you did in high school to make such good grades? Yer told me you wanted to be a horse vet. Your grades and test scores are how we got yer accepted here and it is a good prep for veterinary school or have you forgotten all about that? You not going to give it all up are yer?"
She sobbed harder. "It is different now Patrick, everything is different because of Big Storm winning."
Helen gasped. "Hey, wait a minute! I knew I had seen you someplace! Natasha this is the girl that won the Kentucky Derby on that big gray horse, Big Storm!"
"I think you are right."
Patrick gently but firmly set her back from him. Tears still gushed down her cheeks. "Now see there Jolene, you are famous and you already have friends. You'll be so popular at the Vance School that you will not have time to think about home."
Jolene rubbed the tears away with the back of her hand, embarrassed and angry all at once. How could she have broken down like that?
In front of strangers…and Patrick.
Patrick was smiling at her, but she could see worry in his morning-glory eyes.
"Go away Patrick. I don't need you here now. Get on out if you are going to leave me here. I gotta unpack and study some things in the new book they gave me."
She turned away from him and unzipped her case.
The room was silent for several seconds. Natasha and Helen shuffled around near their beds, fiddling with their things.
"All right then. Goodbye and you work hard in school. I'll be calling you at least once a week."
"Don't bother to call. I won't be answering any call. I'll be too busy here."
Pat
rick sighed. "Whether you come to the phone or not is up to yer. But I'll be calling Red."
She heard him go to the door.
"Don't ever call me that again. My name ain't Little Red."
Chapter 13
Since its recognition as a distinctive region in the late 19th century, Appalachia has been a source of enduring myths and distortions regarding the isolation, temperament, and behavior of its inhabitants. Early 20th-century writers focused on sensationalistic aspects of the region's culture, such as moonshining and clan feuding, and often portrayed the region's inhabitants as uneducated and prone to impulsive acts of violence. Sociological studies in the 1960s and 1970s helped to re-examine and dispel these stereotypes, although popular media continue to perpetuate the image of Appalachia as a culturally backward region into the 21st century.
While endowed with abundant natural resources, Appalachia has long been associated with and struggled with poverty. In the early 20th century, large-scale logging and coal mining firms brought wage-paying jobs and modern amenities to Appalachia, but by the 1960s the region had failed to capitalize on any long-term benefits from these two industries. Beginning in the 1930s, the federal government sought to alleviate poverty in the Appalachian region with a series of New Deal initiatives, such as the construction of dams to provide cheap electricity and the implementation of better farming practices. In 1965, the Appalachian Regional Commission was created to further alleviate poverty in the region, mainly by diversifying the region's economy and helping to provide better health care and educational opportunities to the region's inhabitants. By 1990, Appalachia had largely joined the economic mainstream, but still lagged behind the rest of the nation in most economic indicators. - Wikipedia - July 23, 2012.
"You know he is super-hot right?" Helen was sitting cross legged on Jolene's bed watching her unpack, smiling large behind her hot pink rimmed glasses. Apparently Patrick's presence made a hot pink inspiration for Helen because as soon as he left she pulled out a drawer filled with glasses of numerous colors and styles and donned the sexy pair of eye aids. "I wish I had these on when "hot stuff" was here!"
Once Upon a Misty Bluegrass Hill Page 10
