She grabbed Leah’s hand and licked it again before adding more salt.
Despite the solemn occasion, Leah laughed. “Sugar, are you telling me Skyler licked your hand for you?”
Tory smiled, relieved that she could lighten Leah’s despair a little. “Nah. That’s my own personal touch. Now tell me everything.”
Leah was a natural storyteller, and after a halting start, she warmed to her mission. They laughed and even shared more tears over the stories.
Nighty had been Leah’s transportation around town when she visited Gram every summer, starting when she was eight years old. They would trot down to the country store, where they shared her Lance peanuts and RC Cola.
Leah laughed about the time he bit her on the butt because he smelled a candy bar in the back pocket of her jeans. She cried when she reminisced about braiding his mane and tail with red, white, and blue ribbons to ride him every year in the local Fourth of July parade.
She wistfully recalled the long summer days when they joined Jessica and her mount to ride the trails and picnic in the meadows around the equestrian center. Then she chuckled over Nighty’s love for swimming whenever he saw a pond, even when she was still on board. After two ruined saddles, she just rode him everywhere bareback.
Tory distracted Leah with questions when the men arrived with the backhoe and went directly into the pasture as instructed. And after the men left, Tory pulled a package of wildflower seeds from her truck that she kept for such occasions. They walked through the gathering dusk to sprinkle the seeds across the freshly dug dirt that was now Nighty’s eternal blanket. Neither spoke as they trudged back to the house, hand in hand.
Tory went willingly when Leah led her into the darkened house, into the bedroom, and turned to her. Her lips were salty with tears. Her mouth was sweet. Her skin was warm and soft under Tory’s kisses.
Leah’s hands began to wander, then became insistent, tugging at her clothes. Tory pulled back and cupped Leah’s face to look her in the eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from pouring all she felt into her gaze. But when she dipped her head to claim that sensuous mouth once again, Leah pulled back.
“Stop. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… We can’t do this,” Leah said.
“It’s okay.” Tory reached for her again, but Leah turned away.
“I’m sorry. It’s just you always seem to be here when I have a weak moment.”
Tory stiffened. This couldn’t be true. She’d seen much more in Leah’s eyes before they suddenly shuttered and she pulled away.
“Is that what I am? A weak moment?” She stared at Leah’s back. “You’re a lot more than that to me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Leah said, her head bowed. “I’m leaving in two days.”
“Leah—”
“No. I really appreciate everything you’ve done. Really. But I can’t do this again. Please, Tory, please go.”
Tory stood, uncertain, in the dark. Her skin still tingled from Leah’s touch.
“Please,” Leah whispered.
Tory turned and left.
Chapter Twenty-seven
A pounding headache woke Leah early.
It had begun to rain after Tory left, so she had returned to the porch and stared out into the gloom. She cried some more and finished off the bottle of tequila so she would be numb enough to sleep. Considering the hours of tears, the alcohol, and the weather, it was no wonder her sinuses were throbbing.
She crawled out of bed and washed down some aspirin with an entire bottle of water before stumbling back to the bedroom. She had a million things to do because she planned to leave the next day after signing the final papers on the farm. But she wasn’t ready to face all that. She blamed the hangover and the dreary weather for the crushing weight holding her down. Yeah. It was just the hangover. She closed her eyes to avoid the pounding in her head and retreated back into sleep.
*
The buzzing of her pager wrenched Tory awake. Christ, her neck hurt. She’d fallen asleep upright on the sofa after driving home and sitting in the dark house for hours. Just sitting. Around two a.m., the emptiness inside finally soured the alcohol in her stomach, and she barely made it to the bathroom to throw up.
Had MG felt the same as she’d helplessly watched the love of her life turn from her and walk into that church? As if history was repeating itself, Tory had blown her last chance to stop Leah from leaving. She had fallen short. Unworthy. The hurt paralyzed her. How did MG bear it? Tory had wanted to cry, to scream. But she couldn’t.
She knew Leah felt the same way about her. She could see it in her eyes, feel it when Leah clung to her, when they made love at Chincoteague. She could hear the pain in Leah’s voice when she asked her to leave. She should have been pissed. Angry. Furious.
But she had felt nothing. Until the buzzing that skittered her pager across the coffee table.
Fuck. The word burned through her brain. Ladies don’t use that kind of language. Her mother had hammered that notion into her since she was old enough to recognize a four-letter word. Tory always did what was right, so she didn’t say it, didn’t think it. Until now. It felt good. Fuck that pager. Fuck everything.
The pager buzzed again. She sighed and checked its readout. It was one of her biggest clients, so she resolutely dialed the number. Because she always did the right thing.
*
When Leah opened her eyes again, it was late morning. At least, her headache was gone. She headed to the shower, hoping it would invigorate her enough to dress. She had to check on Gram and say good-bye before she left town. She would do that, then come back to the boxes that needed packing.
It was still raining as she drove to Greyson Estates. Her black mood matched the sky that had turned from overcast and wet to angry and threatening.
Ed, the gatekeeper, stayed in his dry gatehouse, motioning Leah through when she arrived. Her Jeep had become a familiar vehicle over the past few weeks. MG had given her a pass for her car that would get her through an automated side gate, but she hadn’t stuck it on her window. She wouldn’t be around much to use it once she moved to Wisconsin.
*
Tory threw one last shovel of black mud over her shoulder and slowly straightened her stiff back. An early cold front had pushed out the lingering summer heat overnight, dropping the temperature fifteen degrees and unleashing the storm. She turned her face skyward to take advantage of the fifth downpour since she had waded into the waist-deep mud to tranquilize Raymond Wright’s $50,000 quarter horse so it wouldn’t struggle as they worked to free her. The cold rain streaked the mud on her cheeks.
“Ready?” the man next to her asked.
“Yeah. I think we’ve dug her out enough.” She helped him slip a heavy canvas sling under the mare’s belly and gave a thumbs-up signal.
Fortunately, her client was a prosperous building contractor. After paging Tory, he called one of his crew bosses to bring a heavy crane from a work site. They had positioned it as close to the pond as possible. Now that the horse’s legs were partially free, the crane operator carefully lifted it onto dry land. One of the construction workers drove Tory’s truck while she walked the horse up to the barn.
Thankful that her rich client had hot water in his barn, Tory hosed down the horse and herself in the wash stall to remove the worst of the mud. But when the cold wind swept through the barn, she shivered in her wet clothes.
She hastily wrote out a bill for the morning’s emergency work. It was a big one because she had stood in the cold mud for hours, even though she’d warned the owner several times to fence off that bog. The farm manager listened intently to Tory’s instructions for making sure the mare didn’t suffer delayed shock. But when she looked for Raymond to give him the bill, his farm manager just shrugged. He had left, the man said. Fuck. She’d have to add it to the already huge amount the man owed her. Ironically, the richest clients were always the last to pay.
*
Leah grabbed a bag that held a few final requests
from Gram and clutched her umbrella as she ran through the rain. She hadn’t gotten far inside when Della, the head nurse, stopped her.
“You better let me call ahead before you go in there,” she said.
“Is Gram upset? I was afraid this would happen when it hit her that she won’t be going back home to the farm.” Damn it. Her feelings were too raw to deal with this today.
“No, honey. She couldn’t care less about that farm.”
“What’s wrong, then?”
“You may want me to call ahead to make sure they have all their clothes on.”
“You’re not saying… They’re in their seventies, for God’s sake.”
Della winked. “Well, somebody must have forgotten to tell them that. I think they’re trying to make up for all those lost years, as much as their old bodies will let them.”
“Eww. I don’t need to know that about my sweet little grandmother.”
Della gave a hearty laugh. “Girl, I offered to have an oxygen tank installed in their bedroom to help those two old birds catch their breath. I was just teasing, of course, but MG actually seemed to consider it for a minute. That’s when I decided I wasn’t going in there anymore without calling ahead.”
“Maybe you better call for me, then.”
Della picked up the phone and punched a few numbers. “Are you ladies decent? Mrs. Montgomery’s granddaughter is here. A nap, huh? Is that what you’re calling it now? You can’t fire me. You haven’t rehired me after firing me the last time. I’ll send her along.”
Della hung up the phone, shaking her head. “I don’t know whether to hug you or smack you for bringing your grandmother here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone here loves Dr. Greyson so very much, and we’ve never seen her as happy as she’s been since Mrs. Montgomery arrived. We’re all grateful for that blessing. But the sparks flying off those two has love in the air. The staff has to make extra checks at night to keep the residents in their own beds. Yesterday, an orderly had to break up a fight when one old guy caught another swiping his Viagra.”
Leah chuckled. “They deserve this, Della. They’ve waited a long time for happiness.”
“Yes, they have.” Della gave Leah a one-armed hug. “You go have a good visit.”
A low rumble of thunder sounded as Leah headed down the hall to the residence. Still, she felt a ray of sunshine filter through the otherwise bleak day. She hit the buzzer at the elegant oak double door and covered her eyes with her hand.
“Are y’all decent, because I don’t want my eyeballs burned.”
Gram giggled and pulled her through the doorway. “We are now,” she teased back. “Your eyeballs are safe.”
MG blushed and reached for the bag Leah held before she changed the subject. “I hope Lori’s favorite pie pans are in here.”
“Yes, they are, although I don’t know why she needs them when you have a whole staff of people to cook for you.”
“Nobody makes lemon meringue pies like she does.” MG motioned for them to all sit down. “And she’s promised to teach her secrets to our chef.”
“I hope I can remember all of them,” Gram said.
Leah gave her a hug. “That’s why I brought your box of recipes, too.”
“You are so sweet.” Gram fussed with some throw pillows to make sure MG was comfortable before sitting as close as possible to her on the sofa. “Now sit down and visit for a while.”
Leah choked up when she gave them the bad news about Nighty, but reminiscing with Tory had lightened her grief. They talked about closing the deal on the farm, and Gram and MG told her they had contacted the lawyer to alter the paperwork so the proceeds from the sale went to Leah. When she protested, MG waved her off.
“I’ve also had my lawyer make the necessary changes to my estate so that Lori’s name is on everything as part owner. She’ll never want for anything, even if I pass away first. If she outlives me, you’re still the executor of her estate. Tory, however, will be the sole beneficiary because the assets will basically be my property that passed to Lori. You will have already inherited her original assets when you sign the papers on the farm.”
“That’s very generous. I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say,” MG insisted. “The papers will be ready for you to sign tomorrow.”
While they discussed legal issues, Gram began to tire. She cuddled against MG’s shoulder.
“I guess I should go. I’ve still got a lot of things to do before I leave,” Leah said.
Gram roused herself. “Are you taking a trip somewhere?”
Leah stood and kissed Gram’s soft cheek. “I’m moving to Wisconsin for a new job, sugar. I told you about it. That’s why you’re going to live here with MG.”
“You are?” Gram asked sleepily. “Did you ask Buddy to feed Nighty?”
MG rose slowly and straightened her stiff joints. “It’s all taken care of, Lori. You rest here while I walk Leah to the door,” she said, covering her with a soft afghan.
“She seemed like she was getting so much better,” Leah said quietly as they moved across the room.
“She is better since we adjusted her medication.”
“She’s so lucky to have you.”
“It’s not all one-sided. There isn’t a drug that can completely reverse the damage in my joints either. You haven’t seen me during one of my bad times when I can’t get out of bed or hold a fork to feed myself. On those days, Lori will take care of me. Together, we’ll deal with each other’s disabilities.”
“Still, you have to know you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak,” Leah said. “One day she won’t recognize even you.”
“Her head may not recognize me, but her heart always will,” MG said firmly. “We let fear steal years we could have spent together. We’ve forgiven ourselves, and each other, because we were just kids. We’re adults now. We know one of us will have to suffer that loss again. Nobody lives forever. But we choose not to let fear rob us of this second chance to be together.”
A loud clap of thunder rattled the windows.
From the doorway, they saw Gram flinch, her eyes wide and frightened. “Willie? Willie?”
MG hurried back to wrap her arms around her. “I’m right here, Lori. It’s just a little storm outside.”
“They scare me…ever since that tornado when I was a girl.”
“I know, sweetheart. Remember the song we used to sing when you were scared?” MG began singing a silly ditty about angels and clapping, her voice low and smooth. When she started on the chorus for the second time, Gram haltingly joined in, smiling through the next loud rumbling.
As Leah watched MG chase away her grandmother’s fears, she thought of the last time she felt so loved. If she closed her eyes, she could feel Tory’s arms around her, holding her close. She could see Tory taking away Nighty’s pain, then sprinkling wildflower seeds over his grave. She could feel Tory’s warm mouth against hers, chasing away her demons. And she could feel Tory’s pain, palpable even in the darkened bedroom, when she told her to leave.
Leah slipped silently out of the residence, down the hallway, and out into the storm.
*
“I said, call Raymond Wright’s accountant and give him three months to pay their bill with me or I’m firing Raymond as a client.”
“That’s a lot of money,” Joyce said. “He’s one of your biggest accounts.”
“And I’m the best equine vet in this part of Virginia. He doesn’t build houses for free and I don’t vet horses for free.”
“It’s about time you got tough with him. A letter will be better than a phone call. I’ll send it today. By the way, I’m glad you called.”
Tory pressed the cell phone to her ear, struggling to hear Joyce’s voice over the rain drumming against the truck’s windshield. A loud clap of thunder drowned out the rest of her words completely.
“What, I couldn’t hear you,” Tory shouted into the phone.
“Marissa is overbooked because of an emergency surgery, and David hasn’t shown up to take care of the horses. She fed them, but their stalls haven’t been cleaned. I can call my son to come do it. He’s on break from college.”
“No, I’m paying David to do the job. I’ll take care of it,” Tory growled into the phone.
She had woken up tired and in pain. On top of that, she was now so cold and wet her bones had begun to ache. She had mud in places where there should never be mud. Her mounting anger was as jagged as the lightning cutting through the clouds.
“Fuck.” This time she said it out loud. She was sick and tired of feeling used.
She slammed through the back door of her parents’ home, ignoring her mother’s protest that she was tracking mud on the floor. She took the stairs two at a time to her brother’s room where he was sitting on the floor playing a video game, dirty clothes strewn about the room and the bed unmade.
He glanced up before going back to his game, his fingers frantically working the controls. “Dude, what happened to you? You look like you’ve been mud wrestling.”
Tory walked over to the television and yanked out the cords running to the video game.
“Damn it. What’d you do that for? I’ve been playing all night to get up to that level. I haven’t even saved the session.”
“You’re supposed to be at the clinic feeding horses and cleaning stalls.”
“Geez, sis. Got your tampon in sideways today?”
She yanked him up by his T-shirt and body-slammed him against the wall.
“Gross, you’re all wet. You’re getting mud on me.”
“You listen to me, you little screwup. You might be able to mooch off Mom, but you’re through mooching off me. You’re fired.”
“You don’t have the balls to say that in front of Mom.” He sneered.
Long Shot Page 20
