Kentucky Rich

by Fern Michaels

  The moment the sun started to creep over the horizon, Nealy jumped off the fence and headed back toward the house.

  Today was her birthday, a time when she always reflected on her young life. Maud and Jess would be waiting in the kitchen for her. How kind, how astute they were. If they didn’t know, then they sensed she needed these early minutes to herself out by the road. They never mentioned it, never said anything other than, happy birthday, Nealy. Later on there would be a big dinner, a cake with candles, presents, and so much love and affection she would get dizzy absorbing it all. She was loved. Her daughter was loved. What more could she possibly want or wish for? Absolutely nothing, she answered herself.

  From the back porch, Nealy could see the fireplace blazing. The kitchen would be warm and toasty. That had to mean Carmela the housekeeper was up and preparing breakfast. Emmie would be getting ready for the special school she attended; Maud and Jess would be sitting at the table waiting for her. Carmela would be frying bacon, brewing coffee, and stirring batter for blueberry pancakes.

  Nealy opened the door to silence. She sniffed. Where was the coffee, the sizzling bacon? Where were the others? She looked down at her watch and frowned. Where was Carmela? She called her name, knocked on the housekeeper’s door. When there was no response she cracked the door and called out a second time. She opened the door wider, saw the unmade bed, but there was no sign of the housekeeper. She closed the door just as she heard a car screech to a stop in the driveway alongside the back porch. She ran to the door, her heart hammering in her chest.

  “Dr. Parker! What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

  “It’s Maud, Nealy. Jess called me. Where is she?”

  Speechless with fear, Nealy could only point to the second floor. The doctor took the kitchen stairs, two at a time, Nealy galloping behind him.

  Emmie ran to Nealy, her eyes full of questions. “I don’t know what’s wrong, honey. I was outside, and when I came in there was no one in the kitchen. Do you know where Carmela is?” Emmie pointed to Maud’s room. “Listen to me, Emmie. I want you to go downstairs and make some coffee. You know how to do that. Make some toast and wait for me. I’m sure Miss Maud just has a bad cold or maybe a bad bellyache. Do what I say, and I’ll be right down. It’s going to be all right.” She waited until Emmie was at the bottom of the stairs before she ran to Maud’s room.

  She saw the huge sleigh bed, the colorful quilt, and the woman lying propped up against a mound of pillows. Nealy Diamond’s eyes burned at the sight of Maud. Surely this caricature of the adoptive mother she loved with all her heart wasn’t Maud Diamond. Her face was pulled to the side, her right eye closed, the lid drooping way past her bottom eyelashes. The right side of her body was hiked up as though she’d tried to curl into the fetal position, the left side almost as rigid. Drool oozed from the corner of her mouth. A sob caught in Nealy’s throat as she made her way to the side of the bed. The doctor gently pushed her away. She found herself standing in the doorway next to Carmela. She heard a sob, and knew it wasn’t her own. Jess. She heard the word hospital, heard Jess’s vehement negative response.

  “What happened, Carmela? Is Miss Maud going to die?”

  “I don’t know, Nealy. Mr. Jess came and got me right after you left the kitchen. I didn’t see you leave, but I heard you. I’d just built up the fire when he came rattling down the steps. It’s a stroke. People live after a stroke, Nealy. Sometimes they don’t, but sometimes they do.”

  “She can’t die, Carmela. She just can’t. Jess won’t know what to do without her. I won’t know what to do. Emmie . . . Emmie won’t . . . understand. The farm, the horses, everything will fall apart without Miss Maud. She’s the glue that keeps us all together. I should do something. I need to do something. Tell me what to do, Carmela.”

  “You keep going, Nealy. You can’t fold up. Jess is going to need you, and so is Emmie. You have to be strong. You do what Maud would do. Tell me what to make for breakfast. Then you have your work; Emmie has to go to school. You need to write down what you want me to make for supper. You have to go down to the barns and tell the others. You have a lot of things you have to do.”

  “Those are just things. I meant I want to do something for Miss Maud.” Nealy reached out and grabbed Carmela’s shoulders. She stared deep into her eyes. “Tell me she isn’t going to die, Carmela. Tell me. She said she won’t die till she gets another Derby winner. She told me and Emmie many times she can’t go to meet her pa in heaven unless she has a third Derby winner in her hand. Say it, Carmela! Damn you, say it!”

  The old housekeeper straightened her apron, her usual rosy cheeks pasty white. She tried to straighten her plump body as she stared Nealy down. “I can’t tell you that, Nealy. Now, tell me what to make for breakfast.”

  Nealy stared at the woman, who was almost as old as Maud. Her face was lined and creased the way Maud’s was. She wore wire-rimmed spectacles, whereas Maud preferred to squint or use a magnifying glass, saying eyeglasses were ugly. Where Maud’s hair was thinning, Carmela’s was thick and curly, fashioned into a long braid that hung down her back almost to her waist. Her hands slammed down on her plump hips. “I need you to tell me what to make for breakfast, Nealy.”

  “Pancakes.”

  “Fine. I can make pancakes. How many?”

  “How many? Fifty. Sixty. That’s a good round number. Lots of coffee,” Nealy said, rubbing her temples.

  “Who’s going to eat sixty pancakes?” Carmela demanded, but Nealy was already halfway up the kitchen stairs to the second floor. “The barn dogs and cats, that’s who,” she mumbled.

  Nealy found herself standing outside Maud’s room. Everything was suddenly different now. Even the sunshine was gone. An omen? She wished she knew more about death and the dying process. She wanted to cry so bad she pinched her arms to stop the tears. Jess didn’t need to see her cry. She was supposed to be strong. She wondered if Maud could hear or understand whatever it was the doctor was saying to Jess. It didn’t look like Maud had moved even an inch. Jess looked different, too. Right now, right this minute, he looked old. He also looked brittle, like he was going to crack wide open. He turned, saw her, and motioned her to enter the room.

  Nealy advanced, tears rolling down her cheeks. She stepped into his arms and howled her misery. He didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he stroked her hair and let his own tears roll down his weathered cheeks. “We talked about something like this maybe happening someday. Maud said she didn’t want to go to a hospital. I agreed. Dr. Parker is going to send us some nurses who will take care of Maud around the clock.”

  “I can do that, Jess. I want to do it.”

  “I know you do, child; but you have Emmie, and the farm still has to run. You can’t do everything. Maud wouldn’t want that. She’d want you to do what you do best, work with the horses.”

  “How can I do that, Jess, when my heart is here with Miss Maud? Tell me how.”

  “I can’t tell you how, child. You have to find your way yourself. I’m going to have to make some decisions, too. We’ll talk later. For now I’m going to stay here with Maud until the nurse gets here. Dr. Parker says she isn’t in any pain. I’m going to hold on to that. See Emmie to the school bus and get on with your chores.”

  “But . . .”

  “There are no buts, Nealy. This is the way it has to be. Get on the loudspeaker in the barn and tell everyone Maud has had a stroke. Tell them . . . tell them I’ll let them know when she can have visitors. Now, git to it, girl.” He hugged her tight to take the sting out of his words.

  It was nine o’clock before Nealy tucked a tearful Emmie into bed. Exhausted with all the crying she’d done, Emmie slipped into sleep almost immediately but not before she tucked her velvet bag under the pillow.

  Nealy sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, trying not to cry. Everyone was acting as if Maud was dead, while in fact she was alive and breathing. She couldn’t die. She just couldn’t. Nealy offered up a prayer, kissed her daughter good ni
ght, and walked down the hall to Maud’s room. She could see into the dimly lit room, where the nurse, in her starched, white uniform, sat reading. She’d always thought of Maud’s room as a pretty room, with the overlarge sleigh bed that had once been her father’s. Crisp organdy curtains hung from the diamond-shaped windows. There were no blinds or shades on any of the windows at Blue Diamond Farms. Maud wanted it that way. She said she liked light, not half-light. Privacy was something she never thought of. Besides, she’d said, who can see way up here to the second floor? Two wing chairs stood against the far wall. The blue one was for Jess and the burgundy one was Maud’s. Both had matching footstools, and both were situated so Maud and Jess could watch television late at night if they wanted. A few lush green plants stood in the corners, just to fill up the space, Maud said. Other than a dresser that was almost bare and two night tables, there was nothing else in the room.

  When Nealy had first arrived, there were no pictures on Maud’s bedroom walls, but there were pictures now. One of her wedding to Jess, the rest of Emmie at different stages. Emmie sitting in her pony cart, Emmie at the wedding, Emmie with her first short haircut, Emmie and Molly, Emmie in a bathing suit running under the sprinkler and, the best of all, Emmie riding Wind Dancer, her very own pony. There was one picture that Maud said she treasured above all else, a picture of her with Emmie in her arms, sleeping together in the wicker rocker on the front porch. It was a nice picture, Nealy thought. Probably because we all felt safe and peaceful. Maud had always understood that.

  “How . . . how is she?” Nealy whispered to the nurse.

  “The same. She’s sleeping. You look very tired, honey. Why don’t you turn in? If there’s any change at all, I’ll call you.”

  “Can I kiss her good night?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Nealy walked hesitantly over to the bed. There were so many things she wanted to say, but her tongue felt thick in her mouth, and the words wouldn’t come. She tried not to cry, but tears pooled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She reached for Maud’s hand and covered it with both of hers. She was stunned at how cold it felt. She wanted to crawl into the big bed the way she did with Emmie and hold her close to warm her clear through. She leaned over and kissed the old lady’s dry cheek. She looked up when she felt Maud’s eyelashes touch her cheek. “You’re awake! I came in to say good night. I don’t know if you can hear me. Can you, Miss Maud?”

  When there was no response, Nealy moved to the foot of the bed where Maud could see her better. Her hands and fingers moved furiously. Blink if you can understand what I just said, Miss Maud. A smile ripped across Nealy’s face when the old lady blinked. Nealy’s fingers spoke a second time. Do you want to see Jess? Blink. I’ll fetch him.

  Nealy raced down the steps and into the living room, where Jess sat staring at the fire. “Come quick, Jess. Miss Maud wants to see you. I signed for her and told her to blink if she understood. She did. I asked her if she wanted to see you. She blinked. Hurry, Jess, before she falls asleep again.”

  Nealy’s heart sang with joy when the old man lumbered across the room and up the kitchen stairway.

  “You have to stand at the bottom of the bed so she can see you clearly, Jess,” Nealy said, stepping aside for Jess to take her place.

  Twenty minutes later, the nurse urged them to leave. “She needs to rest. The shot I gave her is starting to work, but she won’t relax until you leave. I’ll call you if she wakes.”

  Nealy had to drag Jess out to the hall and back down the steps. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it, Jess? We can communicate with her now. Emmie is going to be so happy. Maybe tomorrow will be better. You didn’t eat any dinner, Jess. Let me fix you a sandwich. I’ll sit with you in the parlor. Carmela made a chocolate cake. I’ll cut you a slice, and coffee would go real good now, wouldn’t it?”

  “I’m not hungry, but go ahead and fix me something if it will make you feel better. We need to talk, Nealy. Serious talk.”

  “Are you going to ask . . . are you going to ask us to leave, Jess?” Nealy asked, fear written all over her face. She started to shake while she waited for the old man’s response.

  “Good God Almighty, girl, where did you get an idea like that? We adopted you, girl. You belong to us, to Maud and me. You belong here. The only way you and Emmie can leave here is if you want to leave. You’re the child and Emmie the grandchild Maud and I never had. Now go fix me that sandwich while I build up the fire. We’ll be nice and cozy. Don’t bring me any coffee, though. Bring me Maud’s bottle.”

  Nealy returned to the parlor with a thick ham sandwich on fresh homemade bread, a dish of pickles, and a slice of dark chocolate cake. The bottle of bourbon was half-full. She placed it on the end table along with a glass. While Jess ate, she poked at the fire, her thoughts whirling inside her head. What did Jess want to talk to her about? Did it have something to do with Emmie or with Maud? She wished he’d gobble his food so she could relax. She turned around, sat down on the hearth, and hugged her knees. When he finished the cake, Nealy sighed with relief.

  With her gaze fixed on the man across from her, she blurted, “What did you want to talk to me about, Jess?” She sucked in her breath as she waited for whatever he was going to say.

  “A lot of things. Some of them important and some not so important. Maud and I were talking just the other day about sitting down with you and explaining things. This isn’t the best time in the world, but things happen. Sometimes so swiftly, there’s no time to prepare for the right time. Maud wanted to do the talking, the explaining, but now it looks like it’s me who is going to be doing it. I told her that upstairs. She . . . she seemed to relax a bit once I did that.

  “First things first. What do you think about me turning things over to Jack Carney? He’s a good man. Not my favorite person in the world, but he’s been with us just about all his working life. His home is here. Maud led him to believe he would be taking over at some point. He’s well paid, as you know. I know you don’t much care for him or his son. What I’m asking is, can you work with him knowing he’s in authority?”

  “No!” The single word shot from her mouth like a lone bullet.

  “Could you work with him if he answered to you and only you? That means you’ll be stepping into Maud’s shoes. What I mean, Nealy, is, Maud and I decided that you will inherit Blue Diamond Farms. You and Emmie. Everything we have between us will go to you and your daughter with the exception of some special bequests and gifts to a few charities. You will be a very wealthy woman one day.”

  “Oh, no, Jess, I can’t accept that. You must have kin somewhere. All I want is to be allowed to stay here and work. I never thought . . . never dreamed. No. It’s not right. I can’t accept such generosity.”

  “It’s not up to you. Everything is all set up. Maud wanted it done years ago, right after you got here. She said you were the one who would carry on Blue Diamond Farms. Said you were the one who would give her another Derby winner. I agreed. It’s done, girl. It’s not a yes or a no. All our people, the workers, the families, yes, they love it here, but it’s a job to them. They do a day’s work and get a day’s pay. Yes, they’re loyal, and for that we’re grateful. But there isn’t one who loves this place or understands it like you do. I’ve seen you look at the land, at the fencing, at the animals with the same kind of love in your eyes as when you look at your daughter. Maud saw that. We’re comfortable with our decisions. I know it’s going to take some getting used to. Money is a powerful thing, Nealy. That’s one of the reasons Maud made you learn the business end of things.

  “When Emmie comes of age, she’ll take her place right alongside you. Won’t matter one whit if she can talk or not. She has the touch like you do. We can’t let that slip away. And before you can give me an argument, Maud and I know who you are and where you came from. That’s why we waited until you were twenty-one to adopt you. We had the best lawyers we could find to make all this legal. One of these days, the girl’s pa might rear up and t
ry to make some claims. Won’t work,” Jess said emphatically. “Got it sewed up tight as a drum. Are you absorbing all this, Nealy?”

  “Yes, I think so. I guess I’m overwhelmed that you would think so much of me and Emmie.”

  “We love you, that’s the difference. I’ve never seen Maud so happy. The day you got here was the day she came alive, even with all the pain she was feeling. Maud is going to die, Nealy. I don’t know when, but it will happen. I won’t be long for this world once that happens. Don’t go bawling on me now. I’m telling you facts so you can be prepared. When I draw my last breath, I want to know I left things in good hands. Say something, girl.”

  “I love you, Jess Wooley. I’ll do my best to measure up. Emmie will, too. What happens if... if... Miss Maud . . . dies before I can bring in another Derby winner?”

  “Nothing will happen. She’ll know. Maud knows you won’t let her down. Now, let’s get back to Jack Carney. He’s not going to like taking orders from you. Put him in his place early on. If he gets out of hand, boot his ass out of here. That goes for Wylie, too. Never could cotton to that kid. He’s a sly little weasel. Keep him on the straight and narrow, and if he gives you even an ounce of trouble, get rid of him. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, sir, I can.”

  “Good. There’s more on the financial end we need to talk about. We set up trusts for you and Emmie. No one can ever get their hands on the money. There’s a handsome brokerage account. You could live in luxury until your dying day and never touch the principal. These things have nothing to do with the business accounts. It will be damn near impossible for you to run this farm into the ground. Everything’s been taken care of. There’s a fund for wages for the next five years, funds for everything under the sun. We need to set up a meeting with the broker, who is going to educate you on the different holdings. Maud was . . . is insistent on that. You ask all the questions you want until you understand everything. Now, is it okay if I drink from this bottle?”