She knew Tory had been upset when they last parted, and that had left her feeling oddly disturbed. This was her chance to smooth things over between them.
Half a dozen kids, decked out in hunt and dressage attire, were gathered around a tall woman, who Leah at first mistook for Tory. They had the same athletic build, but the blond hair was lighter and the tan was deeper than Tory’s. The kids listened closely as she moved from youth to youth, giving-last minute encouragement, straightening jackets, and checking that the chin straps on their riding helmets were securely fastened.
The woman had just pointed the group toward the warm-up ring when Tory approached on a dancing chestnut stallion. She expertly worked the curb bit on the dressage bridle to control the sidestepping horse.
“How’d he do?” The woman grasped the horse’s bridle and accepted the top hat Tory pulled off and handed down.
“Not bad for his first show.”
Leah watched Tory dismount and quickly shed the dark dressage jacket. She was wearing a sleeveless silk mock turtleneck underneath, tucked into white riding breeches. Tory in jeans was very sexy, but Tory in skintight breeches was downright lethal. Leah took her time scanning from the broad shoulders to the muscled rump, down to the bottom of the knee-high polished black boots.
“Now that’s enough to make a girl swoon.”
“Did you say something, honey?”
“Uh, I said, look, there’s the veterinarian. You know, the one you thought was stealing the horses the other day.”
Gram squinted in Tory’s direction. It was obvious from her puzzled look that she didn’t remember. She stepped over to the metal bleachers and sat down. “You go say hello, dear. I’m going to sit right here and rest my feet while I watch the riders.”
Leah hesitated, but Tory was standing close enough that she could keep Gram in sight. “Okay, sugar. You stay here. I’ll be right over there if you need me.”
Tory was standing with her back turned and didn’t see Leah approach.
“Mmm-mmm. I thought I recognized that tush. It must be healing nicely if you’re out riding horses already.” Leah stepped around her so she could keep one eye on Gram while she talked.
Tory stiffened. “Miss Montgomery, we meet again.”
“Okay. I guess I deserve that less-than-enthusiastic welcome. I need to apologize for my rude response to your invitation.”
“Don’t give it another thought.”
“And please accept my belated apology for accusing you of trying to take advantage of Gram. It seems your intentions were pure after all. I got your check for ‘services rendered.’”
Skyler had started to lead the chestnut toward the trailer, but stopped. “Services rendered?”
Tory ignored her, speaking instead to Leah. “Where is your grandmother?”
“You don’t have to worry. I made her leave her shotgun at home.”
“Shotgun?” Skyler asked. “You’re the one who shot Tory?”
“No, she isn’t,” Tory replied. “This is Leah Montgomery. Leah, this is Skyler Reese.”
Leah shook Skyler’s hand. “That’s not a very common name, so you must be Jess’s Skyler. Gram and I just saw her in the grocery store.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Since Tory told her you were in town, Jess hasn’t stopped talking about looking up her friend Rooster.”
Tory’s reserve cracked, her expression going from sour to amused. She opened her mouth, most likely to remark on the nickname, but quickly closed it when Leah pointedly looked down at her butt and back up into her eyes. The message was clear. Any jokes about roosters would open the door to a discussion of leprechauns.
“That’s a nickname I haven’t heard since I was twelve years old.” Leah smiled sweetly, but it was clear the rooster subject was closed.
“You haven’t cashed my check,” Tory said.
“I’ll cash your check after you cash the one I sent you.”
“I guess we have a standoff, then.”
“At least it doesn’t involve a shotgun this time.”
Tory finally smiled. “Thank God for that.”
A young boy ran up to Skyler, holding up a broken stirrup leather.
“I’m sorry,” she told Leah. “Duty calls. It was nice to finally meet you. If you saw Jess in the grocery store, she must have told you about the party this weekend.”
“Yes, she was buying up every cow in the county for you to grill.”
Skyler laughed, but began to back away as the boy tugged at her hand. “Come if you can,” she yelled over her shoulder.
Leah turned back to Tory. “That riding habit is attractive on you.”
Tory blushed. “Thanks. I don’t really show anymore, but Skyler has her hands full with the kids today. So she asked me to ride a client’s horse that she’s training in dressage, just to give him some show experience.”
“Why didn’t the client ride him?”
“It’s a breeder. They want Skyler to train their stallion and show him to build his reputation. Then they get big bucks for breeding him.”
“I see. I wish I’d gotten here earlier to see you ride.”
“Do you show?”
“I did when I was a kid. I showed Nighty in hunt seat and jumping classes for fun. Then I went off to college and didn’t have time for a horse.”
They were running out of small talk, and Leah searched for some other subject to prolong the visit.
“Jessica invited me to bring Gram along to the cookout.”
“You’re going, then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Gram overheard the invitation and really wants to. I promise to lock up the shotgun if your invitation still stands and you don’t mind Gram tagging along.”
“I’m sorry. When you turned me down, I promised to take someone else.”
Leah shrugged nonchalantly. She wasn’t about to let Tory see her disappointment. “No matter. Gram will probably forget about it by tomorrow, and I won’t have to take her.”
“Hey, Dr. Greyson!”
A shout from across the field drew their attention. A middle-aged man huffed his way across the pasture and arrived breathless.
“I’m glad I caught you here. One of the horses we were unloading reared and cut the hell out of his nose on the edge of the trailer roof. We need you to look at it.”
“I’ll drive my truck over to where you are,” Tory told him. She turned back to Leah. “Now duty calls me.”
“Gram and I should be leaving, too. I’m sure she’s tired.”
Tory hesitated. “I really hope to see you at the cookout.”
“Maybe you will. Now, go get your superhero cape and save that man’s horse.”
Tory rolled her eyes, then turned and trotted toward her truck. Leah watched until she disappeared into the crowd. Damn, she wished Tory wasn’t such a Girl Scout. She shivered at the thought of a hot, sweaty one-night fling. Naked skin, long legs, sculpted shoulders, and that tasty-looking derriere. She shook the thoughts out of her head.
“One sip of that water and I’m afraid I’d be jumping in headfirst,” she warned herself.
*
The visit to the grocery store and stop at the horse event did, indeed, wear Gram out. They ate a light dinner when they returned home, and Gram talked nonstop about the pies she would begin baking the next day. But after the dishes were done, she was like a car that suddenly ran out of gas. Leah helped her to bed, thankful for the quiet so she could begin her research.
Fortunately, the Commonwealth of Virginia Web site allowed Freedom of Information Act requests to be submitted via e-mail. So she requested incident reports for the past five years, as well as fines levied for all extended-care facilities in the state. She also asked for records from the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner of any autopsies done on extended-care residents as the result of an incident investigated by the state. She stipulated that she needed an immediate response, detailing how long it would take them to extract those records for her review.
She was browsing through some articles when the persistent buzzing of her phone broke through her concentration. She sighed when she checked caller ID, but answered the call anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sis. How are things going with Gram?” Her sister, Debbie, sounded artificially chipper, which irritated Leah.
She had grown up close to Debbie. They shared a bedroom, clothes, a bicycle after Leah wrecked her own, and lots of secrets during their childhood. Leah’s Ken doll dated Debbie’s Barbie doll.
But when they were old enough to put away the dolls, a wide chasm grew between them. Debbie dated, then married the man who would become the associate pastor at her daddy’s church. Leah got caught kissing the star of the girls’ basketball team.
So, her father called a family prayer session and sent her for counseling. At least they never threw her out or ordered her off to some conversion camp. They just prayed. They continued to pray when Leah won an academic scholarship and escaped to a secular college rather than the Christian college her father had picked out. They still prayed for her today. Love the sinner, hate the sin, they said. That pissed her off even more than being disowned.
“What do you want to know?” Leah’s response was cold.
Debbie’s sigh was audible. “I’m not the enemy, Leah. We’re all just concerned about Gram.”
“If you were concerned, you’d be moving her to Tennessee to live with some of y’all.”
“She refuses to come live with us, and we don’t have room in our house anyway. I’m expecting again.” Her sister paused for the expected congratulations, but continued when Leah remained silent. “I’ve got your two nephews to take care of and a baby on the way. Plus, Albert is no help around the house. The church is growing so fast, he and Daddy stay busy almost seven days a week.”
“Whatever.” Leah hated that talking to her sister always seemed to reduce her vocabulary to that of a juvenile. She also hated that when she started sounding like a sulky teen, Debbie started sounding like their mother.
“Have you found a place that can take care of Gram?”
“No.”
“Have you looked?”
“Yes, Debbie. I’ve been looking. It’s not that easy. I’m not going to dump her just anywhere. I’ve visited a couple of facilities and I’m researching performance records on a long list of places.”
“Well, we probably need to do something soon,” Debbie said. “A developer has contacted Daddy about Gram’s property. Daddy wants you to talk to him.”
“Me? I can’t believe Daddy trusts me to handle the sale of her property.”
There was momentary silence on the other end. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“It seems Gram named you as her power of attorney and executor of her will right after you graduated from college.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Do you have to use that vulgar language?”
“Sorry.” Leah rarely apologized for language unless she slipped up around her nephews. But her mind was already racing a hundred miles ahead of their conversation. She always had been closer to Gram than any of her other family members, but Gram rarely stood up to her son, Leah’s father. Her daddy must have been furious.
“Look, Mom said she’d watch the boys one weekend so I can come help you.”
That jerked Leah’s racing brain to a skidding halt. “You’re coming here?”
“I don’t think you should have to do this by yourself.”
Leah was suspicious as to why her family was suddenly so interested in Gram’s welfare. Still, she needed someone to sit with Gram while she visited some more extended-care facilities. And, despite their differences, she really wanted to believe her sister’s motive was sincere.
“Thanks. I’d appreciate the help.”
“I’ve got a women’s conference this Saturday, but how about the next weekend?”
“That should be fine.”
“Great. Daddy wants to take care of this as soon as possible. See you soon.”
Shit. So much for sincere.
Chapter Nine
Tory considered going to the party in her work clothes because she was running a little behind schedule, as usual. Bridgette had been okay with that on their first date, but Tory didn’t want to appear like a slob who didn’t care about her aroma or appearance. So she made a quick call to Bridgette to let her know she’d be about twenty minutes late. She quickly showered and threw on a pair of khaki shorts with a white tank and navy cotton button-down, then slipped on her deck shoes. When Bridgette came to the door, Tory was glad she had taken the time. Bridgette was stunning in a soft blue sundress and tanned, bare legs that led to a pair of light sandals.
When they arrived at the cookout, the driveway was full and the house was overflowing with guests. Tory led Bridgette through the house to the patio, expecting to find Skyler out by the grill. After Tory poured them a couple of beers from one of the two kegs, Bridgette spotted her new softball friends and promptly led Tory in that direction.
The circled group opened up and Bridgette waded right in as though she had known everyone for years. A back slap that nearly made Tory choke on her beer stopped her on the edge of the group.
“Hey, Tor. How’s it hanging,” Lou, the team’s catcher, asked jovially. “We owe you one for bringing Bridgette around. Damn, that woman can burn one across the plate. You sure wouldn’t expect that by just looking at her.”
“Really?” Tory stared at her date. Bridgette definitely fell into the lipstick-lesbian category. She elbowed Lou’s beefy bicep. “Guess you don’t have to be butch to be tough.”
“She’s definitely a wildcat on the mound.” Lou leered. “Makes you wonder how she is in other situations.”
Tory shook her head. “That’s something you’ll never know, considering that Desiree would chop you into little pieces if you stepped out on her.”
“You’re right. But a girl can wonder, can’t she?”
Tory didn’t answer because her attention was fixed on the tiny, elderly woman making her way across the wide patio, headed right for her.
“Willie!” Gram exclaimed, wrapping her arms around a very surprised Tory.
“Hello, how are you?” Tory gave Gram a light squeeze in return. She ignored Lou, who was pretending to almost spit out her beer and mouthing “Willie?” behind Gram’s back. “I didn’t think you were coming to the cookout.”
“That sweet little Jessie invited us. I baked the pies over there on the table. Chocolate and your favorite, lemon meringue.”
“I’ll be sure and have a piece.”
Gram grabbed Tory’s hand and tugged. “We have to tell Leah you’re here.”
Tory started to protest that she couldn’t leave her date. But Bridgette was in deep conversation with several other women, so she let Gram pull her through the crowd over to where Leah, a cup of beer in each hand, was apparently holding court with another group of women.
“I’m just saying that if a gay person is a public figure like that coach being inducted into the Hall of Fame, I think they have a responsibility to own up to their sexual orientation so the straight world knows we’re good people too,” one woman insisted.
“I disagree,” another said. “Outing yourself is a personal choice.”
A third woman jumped in. “How are we ever going to get the respect we’re due and have equal rights if some of us hide our true identities as though we’re ashamed of our orientation?”
“Maybe some of us just want to be known by something other
than who we sleep with,” the personal-choice woman growled.
Gram tugged on Leah’s sleeve. “Willie’s here,” she announced, oblivious to the conversation that was growing a little heated.
Leah handed off the cup of beer she was holding in her right hand to Gram, who promptly sat in a chaise next to the one Skyler and Jessica were occupying. Then Leah hooked her arm through Tory’s to draw her into the group, as though they were old, intimate friends.
The move startled Tory. The heat of Leah’s body against her side and Leah’s hand wrapped around her forearm were distracting. She glanced back toward Bridgette, who apparently still hadn’t missed her.
“I just don’t understand. If the media knew about the coach’s relationship, why didn’t they out her like they usually do?”
They turned their attention to the only journalist in the group to get an answer and smiled when they noticed Tory attached to Leah’s side.
Leah’s fingers absently stroked the bared skin on Tory’s forearm, like someone would stroke her chin as she thought. Her words came in a measured pace, as if she considered each one before speaking it.
“Well, the legitimate media—I’m not talking about self-appointed Web bloggers or the grocery store–rag paparazzi—would argue each case as it comes up. For example, when the granddaughter of a very prominent, very conservative U.S. senator ran for a local judgeship, we got phone calls from the gay community and from the woman’s opponent, demanding that we out her. But even though she was thrusting herself into the public arena by running for an elected office, her sexual orientation had no bearing on her ability to administer the law on the district-court level. So the newspaper I worked for decided not to reveal that this particular woman was a lesbian.”
The lively debate continued to flow around them, but Tory heard little of it. Her attention was focused on the slender hand stroking her arm. The way Leah rested her cheek against her shoulder warmed Tory.
She relaxed into the moment, letting her eyes scan the other women. It was a diverse group—a lawyer, a nurse, a car mechanic, a chef, a teacher. Her eyes drifted to Gram, who had finished her beer and was nodding off.
Long Shot Page 7
