Kentucky Rich

by Fern Michaels

  “Is that what men do, clutter up women’s lives?” Kendrick asked, coming up behind Nealy’s chair.

  Nealy flushed. “Some men do. That’s just my opinion, of course.” Damn, couldn’t she do anything right? She’d just sabotaged what could have been the beginning of a nice relationship. Ruby and Smitty were right. She didn’t know how to act. She’d been living and working with horses so long she no longer knew how to act with human beings.

  Nealy knew in her gut the evening was ruined, and there was no way to salvage it. The beautiful emerald dress that made her feel like Cinderella, the gift from Metaxas, was now nothing more than a dress. The matching satin slippers were just shoes. The magic ball was simply a restaurant, and the prince turned into a frog way too early in the evening. She felt like crying. Just leave it to a man to ruin things.

  “I would hate to think I was one of those men. By the same token, what about women who clutter up men’s lives with their ‘I want this, take me there, do this, and do that.’ Now, that’s what I call clutter.”

  “I’m not like that,” Nealy said.

  “I never said you were, miss, whatever your name is. We’re talking generalities here, or at least I thought we were.”

  “You don’t even know my name! One minute you’re blasting women for doing something you think only a man is capable of, the next minute you’re on your knees asking me to marry you and then you . . . you . . . cook! Cooking is women’s work.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me, that’s who. I wouldn’t eat in this place if it was the last place on earth.”

  “It’s easy to see what kind of palate you have. You like ketchup.”

  He was making fun of her, and people were turning their heads to listen. Without thinking, she stood up, pulled back her arm, and whopped the restaurateur smack on the nose. “Kiss my ass,” she hissed as she stalked from the room, her head high, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

  “What the hell!” Kendrick said, blinking to ward off a wave of dizziness.

  “She popped you,” Metaxas said, his eyes wide with amazement.

  “I think she broke my nose,” Kendrick said.

  “You need to apologize,” Ruby said, getting up from the chair. “I’ll go after her.”

  “Apologize for what? She’s the one who hit me. I swear, I think my nose is broken. You’re a man, what the hell did I do?”

  Metaxas sucked in his breath. “Don’t look at me for an answer. You’re a great guy. How could you ruin something that was so perfect?”

  “What? Tell me what? There was nothing perfect about this evening. Not one damn thing. People are staring at me. I own this damn place, and people are staring at me like I killed someone. They’ll probably never come back. Goddamn it, Metaxas, say something.”

  Metaxas cleared his throat and took the high road. “I think, buddy, my wife is right, you owe Nealy an apology. I can’t believe you forgot her name.”

  “Damn it, I know her name. Cornelia, Nealy Coleman Diamond Clay. She had me so rattled I couldn’t think.”

  “You! Debonair bachelor that you are were rattled by that little slip of a woman? Now I’ve heard everything. Just in case you’re interested, people aren’t staring anymore. They’re eating. So, what did you really think of Nealy?”

  “This is the last time I’m letting you try to fix me up. Don’t think for one minute I’ve forgotten the other disasters.”

  “It’s your own fault,” Metaxas said virtuously. “Never argue with two women. You argued. Admit it. I have to go now. Nealy’s in Room 1207 at the Plaza in case you want to send flowers or a note of apology. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “That’ll be the damn day. Go ahead, go. Some friend you are. You got me into this. You said she was a gem among gems. That rare jewel one finds only once in a lifetime. That’s what you said, Metaxas. And I believed you! She’s a zircon.”

  “I can see myself out,” Metaxas muttered.

  “Don’t come back,” Kendrick shouted. He was rewarded with more sly smiles and knowing winks.

  The day he apologized to that horse jockey would be the day they served ice water in hell.

  Nealy knew from the dampness on her pillow that she had cried in her sleep. She hadn’t done that in years. She rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand: 4:10. She slipped her legs over the side of the bed. What was that noise? She walked through the luxurious suite of rooms to the door and put her ear against it. She jerked backward when she heard what sounded like a tentative knock. Alarmed that something was wrong with Ruby, she undid the chain lock and dead bolt. Cautiously, she opened the door. Startled at Kendrick Bell’s appearance, she stepped backward.

  “It’s four o’clock in the morning and you’re knocking on my door. Plus, you’re drunk. I know this because you smell like a distillery. How did you get here?”

  “I walked!” Kendrick said. “I came to apologize. It’s your turn now,” he singsonged. “That wasn’t nice what you said in my restaurant. I run a respectable . . . establishment,” he hiccuped. “Ladies don’t do things like that, and they don’t say ‘kiss my ass’ either. Even if I deserved it, which I did.”

  Nealy led Kendrick to the sitting room. “You’re absolutely right. My social skills are abominable. You’re right about me and the horses, too. You got under my skin. I apologize.”

  “You rattled me. I don’t know how to act around you. That never happened to me before. I just wanted you to like me. You can ride a horse in a race and win that race. You conquered a man’s world. My mother thought that was the most wonderful thing in the world.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you accept my apology?”

  “Yes. Do you accept mine?”

  “I guess so. Do you want to meet my mother?”

  “The next time I come to New York.”

  “Okay. I’m going to go to sleep now on this couch. I won’t bother you. You’re very pretty for a woman your age.”

  “I guess that’s a compliment. Thank you.”

  “I do like you. Metaxas doesn’t think I do, but I do. Did I say that right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do it anymore. This was supposed to be the charm. It is . . . I think it is. Is it? I apologize for saying you were a zircon.”

  Nealy grinned. Whatever he was talking about was Greek to her.

  23

  On a hot, sultry day in mid-August, two things—one good, and one not so good—happened at Blue Diamond Farms that forced Nealy to stand at attention and look to the future.

  On her way from the barn to the house for a late lunch, she stopped to watch the cloud of dust shooting backward from an approaching unfamiliar black car. She waited for the car to stop and the driver to climb out. He looked around, and said, “I’m looking for Emmaline Owens and Cornelia Clay.”

  “I’m Cornelia Clay. Emmaline is my daughter. What can I do for you?”

  “Accept this,” the man said, slapping two sets of legal-looking papers into her hand. Before she could voice a question, the man was behind the wheel of his car and backing up the long driveway. A process server.

  “Whatcha got there, Ma? Who was that guy?” Nick demanded.

  “He was a process server. I guess someone is suing me and Emmie,” Nealy said, placing the papers into her son’s outstretched hand. “Just give them to Smitty and let her deal with it. God, it’s hot, isn’t it?”

  “It’s going to get a lot hotter,” Nick said as he scanned the papers in his hand. “Ma, you’re right. You and Emmie aren’t just being sued, you’re being sued. Big-time. The Colemans, et al. of Texas are suing for your old homestead. I think this is a little out of Smitty’s league.”

  Nealy pushed the Stetson farther back on her head, then removed her dark glasses. “They’re what?” Outrage rang in her voice.

  “You heard me. You better call your brothers. This is serious stuff, Ma.”

  Nealy raced into the house just
as a second vehicle drove up. A tall figure got out, looked around, then headed toward Nick. “I’m Kendrick Bell. I’d like to see your mother if that’s possible,” he said, extending his hand.

  “By any chance are you the guy who was supposed to take my mother dancing a few months ago and never showed up?” Nick asked as he gave him the head-to-toe once-over.

  “Yeah, I’m the guy. I came to apologize.”

  “A little late, aren’t you? This is not exactly a good time,” Nick said, slapping the legal papers against his leg with loud thwacking sounds. “Come along, but I’m telling you, my mother isn’t in the best frame of mind right now. Would you like to stay for lunch?”

  “I’d like that very much. You look like your mother. This is a very nice farm from what I can see.”

  Nealy didn’t bother to turn around when the screen door closed behind Nick and Kendrick. One hand was in her hip pocket, the other gripped the phone in her hand so hard, her knuckles were white. She still wore the Stetson, something she never did in the house. From long years of habit and many swats to his behind for doing the same thing, Nick hung his hat on the peg by the back door. He frowned as he listened to his mother’s end of the conversation.

  “This is serious, Rhy. You could lose the farm if you don’t get yourself a good lawyer. I have no idea why they think they can sue us. I didn’t know families did that to each other. They want SunStar Farms. That means the whole ball of wax. Get real, Rhy. How could I possibly know a lawyer in Virginia? I have to find one for Emmie and me. Ruby warned me right after the Belmont that she thought there was something wrong that day in the dining room. To this day, neither Emmie nor I have gotten one piece of paper from that lawyer. Do not use him, Rhy. Call me the minute you and Pyne get served. I’m going to call Ruby now. I’ll call you back this evening. The only way you are going to lose that farm is over my dead body, and I have no intention of dying. You need to go through his papers again. You might have missed something the first time. Remember how he liked to hide stuff. I’m going to start looking for a slick lawyer. This definitely calls for slick. Good-bye, I’ll talk to you tonight.”

  “Ma . . .”

  “Not now, Nick. I have to call Ruby. Damn, she said something wasn’t right.”

  “But Ma . . .”

  “Eat without me, Nick. I’ll eat later after I talk to Ruby.”

  “Kendrick Bell is here, Ma!” Nick shouted.

  “Stop being so melodramatic. If that weasel ever shows up here, show him your boot and the road at the same time. Ruby, it’s Nealy. Listen, I was just served papers for Emmie and me. The Colemans are suing us. So far my brothers haven’t gotten their papers. I need to know if you can recommend a good lawyer. What do you mean what do they want? They want the goddamn farm. The whole thing, horses and all. You will? That’s great, Ruby. I’ll be waiting on the porch. I missed you from the moment you and Metaxas drove away. No, I haven’t heard from him. Don’t ever fix me up again. He stood me up. Apology my ass. How much time does it take to pick up the phone and say, sorry, I can’t make it. I bought a new dress and shoes. I even put makeup on. And perfume. I’ll see you later. Thanks, Ruby.”

  “Now you can talk, Nick,” Nealy said, swinging around. Her back stiffened and her eyes narrowed at the sight of the tall man standing next to her son. She wanted to say a million different hurtful things. She wanted to sting his pride, make him feel ashamed for standing her up. Instead she said, “You were in the neighborhood and thought you would stop by for a cup of coffee, right?”

  “No. I came here specifically to apologize. No gentleman ever stands up a lady. There were extenuating circumstances, but I don’t suppose you want to hear them.”

  “Try me,” Nealy said, walking over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands.

  Kendrick grinned at Nick. “I had an accident and lost my memory, my mother lost her memory and I was trying to help her get it back, or I had a triple bypass.”

  “If you were me, which one would you go with?” Nealy asked quietly.

  “The latter because it’s true. I didn’t know if I was going to make it or not, so dancing wasn’t at the top of my priority list. In case you’re interested, I’m okay now. Not a hundred percent, but I’m getting there. I thought about calling a hundred times. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, me too. Are you staying for lunch?” Nealy asked as she looked at the table setting.

  “Your son invited me. I’d like to stay.”

  “By all means.” Nealy squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to remember the week’s menu Willow had given her to approve on Monday. “I think we’re having smoked catfish with apple fennel salad and pickled onions. For dessert we’re having rhubarb raspberry pie. We tend to eat light at lunchtime. In case your diet is restricted, you shouldn’t have any problem with this lunch. By the way, a woman is cooking. In case you decide to stay for dinner we’re having scallion chive soup, curried chicken patties with radish raita, purple potatoes, mango cucumber salsa, and a strawberry crème caramel tart for dessert. Do you think you can handle that?”

  “I think so. Can you direct me to where I can wash up?”

  “Second door on the left. Willow, where’s Smitty?”

  “She went into town and said not to wait for her.”

  “Strength in numbers, Ma?” Nick grinned. “I kind of like him. He doesn’t look quite as robust as you said he was, but I guess his operation explains that.”

  “I wonder why Metaxas and Ruby didn’t say anything to me about it. They just let me rant and rave.”

  “Probably because I asked them not to tell you,” Kendrick said quietly. “I guess I should apologize for that, too. I couldn’t help but hear you on the phone. Are they coming here?”

  “Yes. They should be here around six, just in time for dinner. How long are you staying?”

  “I have two weeks to go until the doctor gives the okay to return to work. I have a hotel room in town.”

  “That’s silly. You can stay here if you like. I can have one of the men or even Nick go into town and fetch your things. I know Metaxas and Ruby will want to see you. We have plenty of room, as you can see, we have a wonderful female cook. Don’t get any ideas about trying to steal her away either.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. I might ask her for some of her recipes if you don’t mind.”

  “I mind only if you don’t pay her for them. That’s assuming she wants to part with her creations. That’s how she thinks of her recipes—creations.”

  Nealy’s mind drifted to the summons lying on the kitchen counter while her son and Kendrick talked sports. Family suing family. It wasn’t right. Blood was supposed to be thicker than water. She looked up from her reverie to see Kendrick Bell staring at her. He smiled.

  She smiled.

  At twenty minutes past six a shiny black limousine pulled alongside the front porch. Nealy ran down the steps, her arms outstretched to Ruby and Metaxas. She squeezed them both as hard as she could. “God, I am so glad to see you! Kendrick Bell is here sleeping on the front porch. I wish you had told me.”

  “I gave my word, Nealy,” Metaxas said just as gently. “I want you to meet someone, Nealy. Nealy Clay, meet Clementine Fox, your new attorney!”

  “Honey, it is my pleasure to shake your hand. Any woman who can do what you did at the Derby, the Preakness, and then the Belmont twice is my kind of woman,” Clementine said.

  The only word that came to Nealy’s mind for a description of the attorney was spectacular. She was tall, five-ten or so with silver hair, exquisite makeup, designer suit, and a pair of legs that went all the way up to her neck. Clementine’s handshake was every bit as hard and firm as her own. Nealy liked her immediately.

  “Call her Clem, Nealy. We go way back, don’t we Clem? In legal circles they call her the Silver Fox. What say we all have a drink?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Nealy said, linking her arm with Ruby’s. “I missed you. I hope you can stay a little while.”

 
“As long as you need us. This was just what Metaxas needed. He was starting to mope. That man has to be involved in thirty things at one time, or he isn’t happy. The minute I told him he was on the phone to Clem. She’s all yours for as long as you need her. You should see how many trunks and suitcases she has. She’s the best, Nealy.”

  Kendrick Bell snapped to attention the minute he heard the voices approaching the front porch. The handshakes and introductions over, Ruby took charge. “You all just sit here, and I’ll fetch us some drinks. What will you have, Clem?”

  “How about some of that fine old Kentucky bourbon I hear y’all talking about. A double on the rocks.”

  “I’ll have a beer,” Nealy said.

  “Ice water with a twist of lemon,” Kendrick said.

  Nealy stared across at the attorney and felt a pang of jealousy. She wasn’t just spectacular, she was exquisitely spectacular. She was lean and trim; obviously she worked out. Nealy just knew there wasn’t one ounce of fat on this woman. She probably spoke seven or eight foreign languages, too. She absolutely reeked of capability. The Prada purse said her bank account probably wasn’t just healthy, it was robust.

  Clementine crossed her legs. Nealy felt smug when she recognized the shoes on the attorney’s feet. “I have all night, talk to me. Tell me everything you can think of.”

  Nealy talked. The others spoke softly of other things.

  Clementine listened intently, her pen flying over the yellow legal pad. “Look, don’t be so crushed. Families sue each other all the time. They sound like a sorry bunch of bastards. I know how to play the game, and I know the name of the game. Let me give it to you in clear, concise terms. The first rule in a case like this is—if it looks like it’s going to be a knock-down-drag-out, you fuck them before they fuck you. Your estranged family, for want of a better term, has hired themselves a barracuda of an attorney. They have to be paying her some big bucks to drag her out of retirement. Valentine Mitchell is one kick-ass lawyer. We both studied under the Devil himself. We’re evenly matched. I might have a bit of an edge since I’m still practicing and Val isn’t. I need to know something right now. Are we talking big-bucks, whatever-it-takes, representation?”