by Cindy Baker
Livi followed Matt back to his truck outside the barn. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she confessed. “I was beginning to despair, but with one act of kindness, you’ve turned everything completely around. Not only have you given me a lifeline, you’ve helped Isidoro and his family too.”
He gave her a crooked grin and for the first time she noticed the direct blue of his eyes. “All part of the service ma’am. Actually, my motives are completely selfish. Now you’re not so busy, maybe you’d like to have dinner with me one evening.”
Alarm bells rang and Livi took a quick, jerky breath. “I don’t know Matt, I . . .”
He interrupted her gently before she could say any more. “Just dinner, that’s all. I’m a stranger here, when I finish work, all I’ve got is a little bedsit above the practice. I’d just like some adult company for an evening. Remember the other morning when you asked me in for coffee . . ?”
His surprising insightfulness startled her. “You’re very perceptive Matt. Okay, I’d love to have dinner with you next week. Just give me a couple of days to get re-acclimatized to staying awake during the evening.”
He chuckled. “It’s a deal. I’ll call you as soon as I know my schedule for the week.” Then he gave her arm a lingering squeeze, jumped into his truck, and was gone.
♠ ♠ ♠
The next morning, Saturday, Isidoro was waiting at the barn door at seven sharp. Livi was concerned to see he was still clad in the smart clothes he had worn to meet her the evening before. When she mentioned this, he explained all his possessions were temporarily stored in a friend’s shed in a town close to where he had been working. She urged him to get everything moved down as quickly as possible, and Isidoro smiled shyly.
“Don’t worry Mrs. Leonard. My friend has a big truck. I will phone him later and he will bring all my stuff tomorrow.”
They turned the horses out, Livi showed Isidoro around, explained the farm’s routine, and then left him cheerfully humming to himself as he tackled the dirty stalls.
She was hardly back inside the kitchen when the phone rang.
“Good morning boss lady. How’s your staff settling in?”
Livi laughed, indisputably pleased to hear his voice. “Good morning Matt. Just fine, thanks for asking.” As she spoke, she walked through into the sitting room and dropped into a chair. “He said he’s going to get his friend to drive all his belongings down for him tomorrow. I didn’t ask him about his family, how are they going to get here?”
“They’ll find a way,” Matt assured her. “Hispanics tend to have wide reaching networks. They’ll be there in a few days, I guarantee.”
And he was right. Rosa and her fifteen-year-old daughter, Katia, arrived at Walnut Grove late on Monday. Rosa tut-tutted about the state of the house and immediately set about cleaning it from top to bottom. It was still full of Jose’s furniture and possessions, so Livi told her to box up anything they didn’t want and Isidoro could store it in a corner of the hay barn.
The little family had no transport so Livi added Isidoro to the farm’s insurance and loaned him an elderly but reliable pickup truck to drive.
All her immediate troubles seemed, at last, to be resolved.
♠ ♠ ♠
Matt phoned again on Tuesday and suggested dinner the following evening. He arranged to pick Livi up at seven thirty.
Seven o’clock found her in front of the mirror, trying to decide what to wear. She had pinned up her honey blond hair in a simple French knot and applied a little lipstick, but the choice of clothing wasn’t so easy. She stared at her reflection whilst holding up a print dress for consideration; it was her favorite, but tonight she discarded it, it wasn’t right. Her face in the mirror looked tired and drawn, with dark shadows beneath her eyes. Something simpler, she decided.
Matt arrived on time driving a silver Ford Edge – the pickup truck he had used earlier belonged to the practice, he explained. His attire was casual: jeans and a crisp blue shirt which appeared to Livi to be brand new. She was glad she had foreseen how he would dress and in the end chosen just slacks and cowl-neck silk top for herself.
They drove to an Indian restaurant in a small town on the coast, about fifteen miles away. They were seated at a quiet corner table, and discussed the menu, their faces lit by candlelight. Matt ordered a shrimp vindaloo, while Livi opted for chicken korma. After further debate, they settled upon a bottle of Californian Pinot Grigio.
“I love spicy Indian food,” Matt confessed, a trifle self-consciously. “Shades of my misspent youth I’m afraid. After graduating from high school a buddy and I bummed off around the world, and one place where we stayed for a while was Goa; we virtually lived on the beach for a few months. Vindaloo is practically a staple there. We were two years traveling before eventually settling down and going to university.”
Livi was fascinated. “What a wonderful experience,” she exclaimed. “It sounds as if you were a bit of a rebel.”
“Oh, I was. As soon as I finished high school I just wanted to get away from books and studying, and do my own thing for a while. My family was none too pleased, I’m afraid being a beach bum didn’t figure especially high in their expectations. Thinking back though, it was the right decision. I got it all out of my system, and then settled back down to five solid years at college. I really don’t think I could have stuck it out without that two-year break.
“My parents were teachers – they’re retired now -- and they had high hopes of my following in their footsteps, but I’m afraid an academic life wasn’t on the cards for me. Throughout my childhood I collected pets and read travel books; my mind was made up by the time I was about ten: I was either going to become a vet or a photographer taking pictures of exotic animals for National Geographic. I suppose it was a no-brainer when eventually they gave up and encouraged me along the veterinary path.”
Livi was unable to suppress a laugh. “Oh I don’t know, I can see you on the Serengeti plains taking pictures of lions and cheetahs and leopards.” She hesitated before putting into words, a question which had been bugging her. “Do you mind if I ask why you’re a locum and not in practice for yourself. Surely you don’t still have a wanderlust at . . ?”
“Forty one,” Matt finished for her. “No, I’m not a locum because I have itchy feet. It’s through circumstances, unfortunately. For more than ten years I was a partner in an equine practice in Florida, close to Calder and Hialeah and a lot of the breeding farms. For the last two I was in a close relationship with another partner which ended, shall we say, acrimoniously, more than two years ago when, I discovered she was having an affair behind my back with a trainer; a married trainer at that.”
He toyed with his napkin. “I flipped and I’m ashamed to admit I just upped-sticks and left — walked out on everyone and everything, and behavior like that doesn’t look too good on my résumé. Unreliable, volatile, unpredictable. Ten years for zilch.” He swallowed some water and smiled wryly.
“Since then I’ve applied for partnerships all over the place, but no-one’s interested. On the other hand, signing up with an agency as a locum was easy. They figure I’m good for stints of a few weeks; two or three months even.”
A waiter interrupted by arriving with their wine, and for a few minutes they sipped and lapsed into silence. Finally Livi said, “Doc Blair is well into his sixties, his practice will need new blood when he eventually retires. Doc Massey certainly won’t be able to cope on his own.”
“I confess I’d already thought of that. I really like the area, and the clients are especially nice.” He chuckled, and Livi blushed. “When my contract here finishes, I’ll definitely sound them out. We shall see.” He clapped his hands together. “But enough about my troubles and misfortunes, that’s not why we’re having dinner; we’re supposed to be celebrating an end to your problems. How’s Isidoro working out?”
“Beautifully,” Livi responded warmly. “He’s a natural with the horses. All I’m doing now is helping him turn out in
the morning and fetch in in the afternoon. He’s even willing to check around last thing at night, but I’ve convinced him it’s no inconvenience for me, after all I’m only a couple of minutes from the barn. It’s nice to know I can depend upon him should I need him though.”
Their food arrived and they both tucked in. It was delicious. Matt refilled their wineglasses. “Their daughter might work out as a friend for Chrissy too; they appear to be about the same age.”
“She seems a nice girl,” Livi agreed. “Her name’s Katia. Next week I plan to resume the school run in the car so I’ve offered to take her as well, and Chrissy seems happy with the arrangement. Living as we do, outside of town, she’s never had a friend close at hand, so your recommendation could result in yet another success.”
Matt fixed her with his cornflower blue eyes and gave her a roguish smile. “Glad to hear it.” Then he suddenly became serious again. “But thank you. . .”
“What for?” she asked, surprised.
“For coming out with me this evening. It’s so refreshing to spend some time with an intelligent, pretty lady.”
Livi opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand to stop her. “No, let me finish. I’m not trying to come on to you, I know you’ve recently lost your husband, but I like you, I like you a lot. I admire your tenacity, and I really appreciate your company and, hopefully, your friendship. No strings attached, I give you my word.”
Livi didn’t answer immediately, so he reached across the table and touched her hand. “Please, say something.” His eyes held her gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it was if she could see into his soul.
Not for the first time, she felt an unmistakable tug of attraction towards him. She realized just how lonely Matt was, how lonely she was too. She needed a friend, someone who knew and accepted her circumstances, and someone she could just talk to. Something about the man sitting opposite her made her resolution waver. She sensed both their pain.
She smiled. “Of course we can be friends, we are already aren’t we?”
The meal finished, Matt drove Livi back to the farm. The roads were quiet and throughout the journey they chatted comfortably together. He parked outside the house and they stepped out into the warm late evening to wander slowly across to the barn to check on the horses.
Before the accident, Will had built a garden complete with fountain in front of the house, but six months ago, following his death, Livi had turned the water feature off. Earlier that day, she had turned it back on, and now the chuckle and murmur of water was alluring. Tears briefly stung her eyes.
The horses were fine. They retraced their steps to the house and Livi opened the kitchen door for the dogs to come outside, then they sat on a wooden bench and watched as the final vestiges of evening faded into night, the western sky still showing a fast diminishing swirl of violet. A mocking bird called sweetly to his mate from a nearby tree. Livi was startled by a thought that everything seemed just right.
At last, Matt smiled and pushed himself slowly to his feet. “Time to go; I know you get up early in the morning. When you start the school run next week, maybe we could meet up sometimes and have breakfast.”
Livi agreed. Matt kissed her cheek, climbed into his SUV and departed down the drive.
♠ ♠ ♠
Three weeks drifted past, and Livi and Matt settled into an easy, relaxed routine. Once, sometimes twice a week, they enjoyed a quiet dinner together and on the occasional morning when Matt could spare half an hour from the clinic, they met at a coffee shop in town for breakfast.
They discovered that in addition to Indian food, they both loved seafood, barbeques, and raspberry ice-cream. One evening, Matt accompanied Livi to watch Chrissy play her clarinet in a concert given by her high school orchestra. When together they talked about what they enjoyed reading, films they had liked and disliked, politics, their years in college, and their lives in general, and what they believed in. Matt was especially interested to hear about Livi’s years growing up in England and her move to California.
She explained her parents, like his, were now retired and living in the San Fernando Valley. Prior to retirement, her father had been involved in the aerospace industry. He had moved his family to California after being headhunted by Rocketdyne. In England her mother had been a copywriter for an advertising company, but once settled in California she had transferred her talents to ghostwriting for celebrities eager to publish their life stories. Livi reeled off a list of famous names whose tell-all books had actually been penned by her mother.
These encounters created enduring episodes of enjoyment for both of them, although their relationship remained entirely platonic. The only intimacy that ever passed between them was a kiss on the cheek from Matt when they parted.
Moreover, Livi resumed her freelance writing career. She phoned around to several editors who had commissioned work from her in the past and quickly immersed herself in a new project.
At the end of May school finished for Chrissy, and with summer upon them, Livi elected to follow the usual farm schedule which meant the horses staying out at pasture continually for the next few months. They would remain out until the yearlings were brought in to be prepared for the sales and the foals were weaned from their mothers. This was now the quiet time on horse farms when maintenance tasks were performed, people were seen holding buckets of paint instead of buckets of feed, and vacations were taken.
On Memorial Day, Livi and Chrissy put up a big trestle table on the lawn next to the fountain and held a barbecue. Rosa and Katia volunteered to help with the cooking and Matt, Doc Blair, Eddie – the blacksmith, and several nearby neighbors were invited.
♠ ♠ ♠
Happiness reigned, until, completely out of the blue, a letter arrived from an attorney in San Francisco, who claimed to represent one Edward G. Leonard, cousin of the late William J. Leonard.
The letter declared that the aforementioned Edward G. Leonard was seeking a sum of $250,000 in compensation for a quarter share he had held in Pink Parachute, the mare killed in the accident which also took the lives of Will and Jose.
Livi read the letter three times to make sure she had grasped its meaning fully. At first, the words lacked coherence and seemed to swim before her eyes like tadpoles in a murky pool. Eventually, inexorably, the full meaning of the document sank in. Will’s cousin, whom she had scarcely met, was taking legal action that would surely bankrupt her.
She could not believe it. Will and his cousin had never struck her as being especially close but four years earlier Will had agreed to include Edward as a one-quarter partner in a filly he planned to bid on at the Kentucky yearling sales. Will had secured the filly for twenty thousand dollars – considerably less than he had anticipated paying, so Edward’s share was just five thousand dollars.
They named the filly Pink Parachute, but did not break her and send her to the track until late into her second year. Will was convinced that despite her bargain-basement price, she was something special and he was determined not to rush her. Edward had not accepted this strategy especially well. He’d expected his investment to provide him with some early action, but Will had held firm.
Pink Parachute had her first race in the April of her third year, and her last, almost two and a half years later, to the day. She won five of those races, was second three times and third once. Her worse performance was when she finished fifth in a race run in a torrential rainstorm.
Edward always received his percentage of the filly’s earnings promptly, but ostensibly Will had made a serious error of judgment by failing to increase her insured value to keep pace with her escalating book value.
He was now applying an assumed value of one million dollars on her head at the time of her death. And he was demanding his pound of flesh. Livi read the letter for a fourth time, feeling bitter and betrayed; then called her attorney.
♠ ♠ ♠
That evening, Livi had invited Matt to eat with her and Chrissy at the house. Immediately he a
rrived, he could detect something was troubling her; she handed him the letter without a word.
“Good grief,” he finally exclaimed. “Is this man for real?”
Livi shrugged. “So it would seem. If he’s taken seriously, I’ll be forced to sell Walnut Grove to pay him.”
“Jesus, that can’t possibly happen. He’s a quarter share-holder for crying out loud. He can’t expect to gain from the tragedy the two of you have been through. Have you spoken to your own attorney?”
She nodded. “Yes, I phoned him straight away. He asked me to fax a copy of the letter to him.”
“And . . ?”
“He said more or less the same as you. However, he did tell me the matter of the insurance is inarguable; Will should have kept it current. He promised to put together a response straight away and FedEx it to Edward’s attorney.”
Matt paced around the room. “Did you send him his quarter share of the insurance payment you did receive?”
“Yes, immediately, and he cashed the check. My attorney holds that if he meant to pursue me for more, he should have returned the check with a written petition, rather than delaying for more than six months.”
“That makes sense. What’s he like, this Edward?”
Livi spread her hands. “I scarcely know him; I’ve only met him briefly a handful of times; once at the funeral. He lives in San Francisco and I think he’s something to do with foreign exchange trading.”
“How does he justify valuing the mare at a million dollars?”
“I can’t answer that; it’s a crazy figure. She won five races, two of them were stakes races, but she wasn’t a classic winner for crying out loud, and she was a mare, not a colt. She certainly didn’t have the potential stud value a colt would have realized.”
Matt nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Well, I guess it’s in your attorney’s hands; all you can do is wait and see how they react to his letter.”
They ate a subdued meal, and afterwards Chrissy disappeared up to her room to practice her music. Livi and Matt went outside with the two dogs. As usual, they sat on the wooden bench by the kitchen door. After a few minutes, the sound of a clarinet playing drifted from Chrissy’s open window. “Can I fetch us both a beer?” Matt asked suddenly.
