Kentucky Rich

by Fern Michaels

  It was only three o’clock in the afternoon, but it was midnight dark outside. Trees were doubled over as rain slashed downward and then sideways. It was just a wicked summer storm, Nealy reminded herself, no better or worse than hundreds of others she’d lived through.

  An hour later, the horses calm, Nealy walked up to the house to find Clementine Fox waiting for her in the kitchen. She was dressed the way she would dress to go to a fancy office. Nealy thought it strange, since her office here at the house was a converted room that had been a pantry at one time. All hours of the day and evening the bells and whistles of the fax line, the telephone, and copy machine sounded. Clem was dressed in a raspberry-colored suit with a simple white-silk tee underneath. She wore panty hose and high heels and was exquisitely made up. The perfume she wore was absolutely sinful.

  Nealy headed for the coffeepot. “What’s for dinner?” she asked Willow.

  “Shrimp-stuffed quail, twice-fried green plantains with garlic dipping sauce, and a crab salsa. For dessert, Miss Nealy, it is something you will savor, a sweet lemon tart with a marshmallow sauce. There will be extra for bedtime.”

  “Sounds scrumptious,” Clem said, licking her lips. “If you have time, come into the office so we can talk. The Colemans’ attorney called me a little while ago.”

  “Is it bad or good?” Nealy said, bringing the coffee mug to her lips.

  Clem shrugged. “Our papers were served this morning. Cole Tanner’s will be a few days late since he’s in Japan. It doesn’t really matter, he’s part of the whole thing. It seems Valentine Mitchell is in the mood to talk. All I did was listen. What you don’t know, nor did I know, is this. The Colemans are in serious financial difficulty. They’re about to lose the ranch because of a severe drought. They’ve had to sell off the cattle and Thoroughbreds. There have been no new orders for planes for Coleman Aviation. No new oil gushers. The Japanese stock market, the Colemans’ lifeline, is down so low it can’t get any worse.”

  “Are you assuming I should care about this?” Nealy asked coldly.

  “I’m obligated to tell you of any communication from opposing counsel. I’m telling you.”

  “I couldn’t care less, Clem.”

  “Sunbridge is going to go on the auction block in the not-too-distant future. The banks holding the loans want their collateral.”

  “So what you’re telling me is they are going to lose their home, so that’s why they’re trying to take SunStar away from my brothers. They don’t care if my brothers are homeless. She called to tell you that. Why?”

  Clem slapped her notepad down on her makeshift desk. “That sums it up pretty well, Nealy. As to the why of it, let’s just say we lawyers don’t ask questions like that. We fish and probe, trying to discover things without actually coming forward and asking. Maybe she’s leading up to settlement talks. I let it all go over my head. Do not ever, under any circumstance, underestimate Valentine Mitchell. I’ve seen her go to court with nothing and win. She’s a master at pulling rabbits out of hats.”

  Nealy digested the information. “What are you a master at?”

  Clem laughed. “Skinning those rabbits.”

  “Do you know the name of the bank that holds the loans on Sunbridge?”

  Clem shuffled the papers on her desk. “Yes, the Texas Savings and Loan.”

  Nealy shrugged as she walked away. In the kitchen she refilled her coffee cup before she walked up the steps to her room. Inside, with the door closed and locked, Nealy yanked at the phone on the little desk under the window. The only people in the world who had this particular private number were Nick, Emmie, Ruby, and Kendrick Bell. She had no fear of Smitty, Clem, or any of the girls in the office picking up the phone. She dialed a number and waited for it to be picked up on the other end of the line. “This is Nealy Clay. I’d like to speak to Mr. Sloan, please.”

  “Nealy, what are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come till next week?” Pyne said as he reached out to hug her.

  “I decided to come early so I could take Mama’s remains with me when I leave. I thought it was the right thing to do. The truth is, I came to fix up this place. I’m going to bring some sunshine into your lives. I made a stop at High Point, North Carolina, and picked out new furniture. It’s going to arrive tomorrow morning. I ordered curtains, carpets, everything I could find to lighten and brighten this place up. I even got you new dishes and silverware. And a ton of green plants. I want your promise to water them after I leave. Did you get a housekeeper?”

  “Yep, and she’s a whiz. She cooks like a dream, and the house is clean but shabby. How long are you staying?”

  “Just a few days. Are you okay with the lawsuit and everything?”

  “Hell no, we’re not okay with it. I’ll burn this place down before I turn it over to those . . . those people. I mean it.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to come to that, Pyne. I sure wish I knew what that family’s reaction was to our court papers. They must be jumping out of their skin knowing the three of us are Seth Coleman’s children with a claim to their precious Texas holdings. DNA is a wonderful thing. If we win this case, and Clem thinks we can win, how do you think you’ll feel if we get the whole ball of wax?”

  “Look, we didn’t start all this legal crap, they did. We would have let sleeping dogs lie. All we want is this place. It’s our home, and we aren’t giving it up,” Rhy said.

  “I guess that’s pretty much how they feel about their home. Clem said their attorney wants to talk. We’ve been stalling. I’m not sure why. Probably to make them sweat would be my guess.”

  “Pyne and I would never rip anyone’s home out from under them. When it looked like that was going to happen to us, we made the decision to pack up and go to work for one of the other farms. All we know is horses. They’ve been our life. This whole thing is making us crazy. We don’t want to fight our relatives. All we want is to be left alone. Can’t you undo this, Nealy?”

  “I don’t think so, Rhy. Clem said that paper Pa . . . Josh Coleman had—the one that said Seth Coleman signed off on the property for cash when he was in dire straits—was a forgery. If she knows it was a forgery, then the Colemans know it, too. Pa . . . Josh Coleman, rather, was tricky, just like his brother. They each tried to outsmart the other, and this is the result. We don’t have any choice but to let the lawyers settle it for us. The only one in the whole clan who was decent was their sister Sallie. I keep meaning to hire a detective to find the other sister Peggy and her family, but something always comes up and I put it off. There were other sisters, too, but no one knows where they are. I’m hoping Peggy knows, and we can start searching for them. If we have more family, I want to know them. For all we know they might need our help. That’s what families are supposed to do, help each other. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s like beating a dead horse. What will be, will be.”

  Nealy stood back to admire her handiwork. She could hardly wait for her brothers to come up for supper so they could admire her decorating skills. Thank God for fast-drying paint, she chortled. She walked around the kitchen, the same kitchen that had once been her sanctuary when she lived here so long ago. Back then it had been dreary and dismal, with ancient appliances and dark woodwork. Now it glistened with fresh white paint and green-checkered curtains at the windows and door. State-of-the-art appliances graced both sides of the room. Underneath the cabinets a coffee machine, a stereo unit, and an electric can opener winked at her in the bright light overhead. The table and matching chairs were pickled oak, almost white in color, with hunter green cushions and place mats. Overhead a multicolored Tiffany lamp gave off miniature rainbows in the late-afternoon sun. The new dishes had clusters of bright red cherries in the center. The silverware had scarlet handles that matched the cherries. The centerpiece was a bright red bowl full of Gerbera daisies. Everything looked warm and cozy, not to mention inviting. Delicious smells wafted toward her. Pot roast, potato pancakes, velvety gravy, emerald green snap peas, gar
den salad, and fresh homemade bread were on the dinner menu. Nealy eyed the luscious chocolate cake with thick frosting sitting on a rack on the counter.

  Nealy looked down at her watch. She still had fifteen minutes until it was time for her brothers to wash up for dinner. She made good use of the time as she wandered from room to room, admiring her handiwork. It all looked light and inviting. She’d had to pay extra for the delivery people to cart off all the old stuff, but she didn’t care. Her brothers didn’t need any reminders of the past.

  They were going to love the sixty-one-inch television set and the stereo unit tucked into one of the cabinets. Deep comfortable La-Z-Boy lounge chairs graced each side of the fireplace, whose mantel now held dried flowers, candles, and a photograph of herself and her brothers. A sofa, one shade darker than the loungers, took up the entire far wall. The old, dingy, smelly brown carpet was gone. In its place was light beige carpeting. Thick, luscious green plants filled out the corners, while a bowl of fresh flowers graced the light oak coffee table. Sheer curtains with hunter green draperies hanging at the sides finished off the room. A man’s room. Comfortable and warm. Inviting. Homey. Tears burned Nealy’s eyes as she stared around the room. If only it had been like this growing up. Once she’d seen a picture of a young girl lying on the floor in front of a fireplace, coloring in a book. She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to conjure up the picture from her memory. There had been a fat little dog lying next to the little girl. She’d never had a coloring book or crayons or a fat little dog and if her father had caught her lying on the floor, he would have tanned her hide. She shook her head to drive away the memories. She turned just in time to see her brothers’ faces as they stared about the room.

  “God Almighty, is this the same room?” Rhy said, slapping at his head.

  “Looks good enough to be in a magazine,” Pyne said, flopping down on one of the lounge chairs. “Get a gander at that television set,” he said in awe. “You’re spoiling us, Nealy.”

  “That’s what sisters are supposed to do. Now I can leave tomorrow and know you’re living in a regular house that isn’t dark like our past. Make sure you keep fresh flowers around. Flowers make all the difference. How did you like the kitchen?”

  “It’s too pretty to eat in,” Rhy said. “We’ll manage, though. You did good, sis. Real good.”

  Nealy beamed.

  “We want to talk to you about something, Nealy.”

  “Spit it out. Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, of course not. Rhy and I have been talking, and we’d like you to change your mind about . . . Ma. We’d like you to leave her here. It doesn’t seem right to, you know, dig her up and move her. If you leave her here, you’ll always be able to come back here and . . . you know, visit, talk, whatever people do in cemeteries. Rhy and I have always gone out there and mumbled and muttered when things go bad. It’s important to us, Nealy.”

  “I thought . . . I didn’t know . . . That’s fine with me. I just didn’t want her to be alone. We’ll leave things as they are then. Do you take flowers to the grave? You’re supposed to do that, you know.”

  “We do. We aren’t totally ignorant, Nealy.”

  “I didn’t say you were. It’s just that men don’t think about things like that. We don’t know anything about our mother, and I find that very sad. We don’t even know if she liked flowers. We don’t know if she liked to read books or what her favorite color was. Did she like to bake cookies? Did she have a favorite dress? Did she pray? We should know those things, but we don’t. I’m going to make it my business to track down Mama’s family. When I hire that detective to find our Aunt Peggy, I’m going to ask him to find out about Mama. Do you think that’s a good idea? I bet we have hundreds of people out there who belong to us. People we don’t even know about. I’m going to find them. Every single one.”

  “Attagirl, Nealy. Now can we eat?”

  Nealy linked her arms with her brothers. “It’s nice having a family, isn’t it?”

  25

  Nealy stared at the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall. Where had the summer and autumn gone? she wondered. It all seemed like such a blur. Christmas and the New Year loomed ahead of her. Not that holidays meant much at the farm, they never had. Anything festive, anything out of the ordinary, had to be planned weeks, sometimes months in advance. The farm ran on a schedule that had to be adhered to regardless of social obligations and festivities. She grimaced when she likened the farm schedule to the United States Postal System. Mail had to be delivered regardless of the weather. These days they even delivered mail on holidays and weekends if one cared to pay for it.

  This year Emmie and Buddy were going on a cruise for the holidays and Nick was going to try his hand at, or as he put it, his feet, skiing with Willow in Colorado. Clem was going to Vegas, and Smitty was heading for New York to do some heavy-duty shopping. Ruby had medical appointments scheduled at Johns Hopkins, and she and Metaxas would spend the holidays together and leave late Christmas Day. She’d assured Nealy they were just checkup appointments, but she had to keep them. With everyone gone, Nealy would be alone, without even a dog to keep her company.

  Life, at that moment, Nealy decided, was at a standstill. There had been several glitches where the lawsuit and her family were concerned. Clem had suffered through a ruptured appendix and then peritonitis set in, laying her low for over a month. Within a week of Clem’s return to work, Valentine Mitchell had been run off the road by a drunken driver. Her injuries were severe enough to put her in traction for five weeks. She, too, had recovered, and the suit was progressing. Interrogatories and depositions had been taken and filed, and a court date scheduled for January 20, a little over a month away. Living with anxiety had become a way of life these past months. Nealy just knew in her gut the court date would be the day Misty Blue gave birth to the foal that was to go to Ruby. That was more important than any court date. She made a mental note to ask Clem about a possible postponement.

  Nealy roll-called the list of things she’d taken care of during the summer months. She’d hired a private detective to track down her mother’s people, with no results. The detective hadn’t had any success finding her aunt Peggy’s family either. Did they all drop off the face of the earth? Was it possible there wasn’t any family? Maybe she should go to Austin, Texas, herself and start her own search. She could do the same thing in Las Vegas. Nick said the one-man detective agency was bleeding her dry, and she needed to get rid of him. He was probably right. Nick was right about most things.

  Then there was Kendrick Bell. She realized just how much she cared about him the week he left to return to New York. He called daily, usually late at night, and they would talk for hours. These days she felt like she knew him as well as she knew herself. He hadn’t insisted on visits, nor had he pushed himself on her. She thought he was waiting till he was fully recovered because he admitted to days that weren’t as good as he would like. He’d gone from semiretirement to full retirement the first of October. At one point he had confessed to wishing he had done it sooner.

  Just last night she’d asked him what he was going to do for the holidays, and he’d said he just wanted to sit by the fire and read some good books.

  “Smitty,” she bellowed at the top of her lungs.

  “For God’s sake, Nealy, what’s wrong?” Smitty bellowed in return.

  “I want you to make me a plane reservation. I’m going to New Jersey. The sooner the better. I’ll need a rental car, too.”

  Smitty clapped her hands. “Well, good for you, Nealy! What date do you want on your return ticket?”

  “Leave it open. Sometime after the New Year, I guess. I’m going to see Kendrick.” The words rolled off her tongue as though she’d announced she was taking the first shuttle to the moon.

  “Then I’d recommend you get yourself some new duds. Or were you planing on wearing that uniform of yours?”

  “You mean my jeans and shirts?”

  “Exactly. You know you co
uld shop first. There’s a very high-end shopping mall in New Jersey called the Short Hills Mall. Lots of designer, pricey shops. You could dude yourself up to look like a million bucks.”

  “Why would I want to do that, Smitty?”

  Smitty rolled her eyes. “That’s what women do when they want to snare a man. They start with underwear and work to the outside. I still can’t believe you don’t have pierced ears. Women get their belly buttons pierced, and you still don’t have pierced ears. Having pierced ears is a good way to store diamonds. You know, if you have no more room for your jools,” she drawled.

  “First of all, I’m not trying to snare a man and my underwear is fine, thank you very much. Get me some maps and the directions to Watchung from the airport and to the mall. I might buy some perfume.”

  “Honey, you need more than perfume. Snazz up, blow his socks off. Be a goddamn woman for a change. You need lessons.”

  “I do not! In case you forgot, I was married.”

  “All right, then, a refresher course. You need to go on the prowl; you need to strut and learn how to stalk a man. Sexily, of course. You clomp, Nealy. It’s those damn boots you wear all the time.”

  “What else is wrong with me?” Nealy demanded through clenched teeth.

  “Other than all that, you’re fine. Okay, okay, one open-ended ticket coming up. Tomorrow or late today?”

  “Tomorrow will be fine. I think I’ll go into town to have my hair done. Maybe I’ll pick up something new to wear on the plane.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Smitty grinned.