The Game of Denial

by Brenda Adcock

  "Are you blushing, Frannie?" Charmaine asked.

  "Shut up, Charmaine. Just remember, I've seen your little naked baby pictures, too," Fran said as she lifted a warning eyebrow toward her older sister.

  "If you're interested I'm sure I have more recent naked pictures of myself."

  "You hussy," Fran said.

  "What's a hussy, Daddy?" Morgana asked.

  Joan nearly choked on the coffee she had just sipped. "You're up, Tucker," she said.

  Tucker cleared his throat as Morgana turned toward him. Charmaine leaned back in her chair, looking smugly at her brother. "Yeah, Tuck. I can't wait to hear this," she said.

  "A hussy, honey, is a young woman who is...playful," Tucker said.

  Mitchell, who was sitting on the floor next to his younger sister, laughed. "Morgana's a hussy, just like Aunt Charmaine."

  "Only not quite as playful as Aunt Charmaine," Tucker said.

  "Good dodge," Joan said.

  "Is this your partner?" Evey asked, holding out a picture to Joan.

  "Yes. My wife, Martine."

  "She's very beautiful."

  Joan looked into Evey's hazel eyes. "Thank you. I was very lucky when she chose me."

  Evey saw the wounded look in Joan's eyes and regretted asking the question.

  "How's Sheba doin' this mornin'?" Ralph's voice startled Evey from her memory of the previous evening.

  "She's fine, I think. We'll need to keep an eye on her. I might sleep in the tack room tonight to check on her."

  "No need for that, Miz Evey. You got company and the wedding and all. I can watch over her."

  "I appreciate it, Ralph. Maybe we can split it." She turned back to the stable. "I've mucked out the stalls and was getting ready to feed them. If you can do that and check their water, I'll go back to the house and get breakfast started. Come up to the house in about an hour."

  "You don't have to feed me while you've got company, Miz Evey."

  "Fran will help me. I'll be expecting you as usual. It's still a farm."

  Ralph nodded and turned toward the barrels of oats. Evey hung her rake on a nail inside the stable door and made her way back toward the house. "Oh, Ralph. After breakfast we should take Jericho through his paces. His owner says he's beginning to balk."

  When Evey stepped through the back door, the smell of freshly brewed coffee assaulted her nose. She was surprised to find Giselle Carmichael standing at the stove.

  "Good morning," Giselle said. "I hope you do not mind that I started preparing breakfast."

  "No. Of course not. I'm glad you've made yourself at home," Evey said as she poured a mug of coffee and stirred in a packet of sweetener. "What are we having?"

  "I make a reasonable omelet."

  "Sounds wonderful. Would you mind making one for Ralph, my farm manager? He usually has breakfast with us."

  "Of course. It would be my pleasure," Giselle said. "What would he prefer?"

  "Anything edible. He's not very picky."

  "Please tell me there's coffee left," Joan said as she entered the kitchen.

  "I'll get it," Evey said, opening a cabinet and taking down another mug. "Cream and sugar?" She couldn't understand how anyone could look so well-put together so early in the day and especially after almost an hour of running.

  "A little of each, please," Joan answered as she plopped into a chair at the kitchen table. She inhaled the aroma deeply when Evey set the steaming mug in front of her. She took a careful sip and smiled. "Did you make the coffee, Giselle? I taste a hint of cinnamon."

  "I thought it tasted a little different," Evey said.

  "A little cinnamon each day is good for your health," Giselle said. "Like wine with your evening meal."

  "It's delicious," Evey replied.

  "How would you like your omelet, Joan?" Giselle asked

  "Just one egg with ham and cheese, if you have it."

  "Do we?" Giselle looked at Evey.

  "Of course. One of my neighbors slaughtered a couple of hogs last week and dropped some off, along with cheese his wife made. Will that do?"

  "Sounds wonderful," Joan said. "Please don't tell the girls where you got it though. If it doesn't come in a plastic resealable package from the grocery store, they may not eat it."

  "Seriously?" Evey asked.

  Joan looked up at Evey. "I was raised on a farm in Nebraska. Unfortunately, they were not."

  "You mentioned that before. How long did you live on a farm?"

  Joan looked at the ceiling and thought. "When I was a teenager my father sold it to go into the meat packing business. His original meat packing plant has expanded into a number of other areas now."

  Gradually over the next hour the remaining family members filtered into the kitchen, most drawn by the enticing smells. Evey was amazed at how well Giselle was able to keep up with preparing the various requested omelets. "Are you sure you don't need some help?" Evey asked as she picked up two more plates.

  "My father was a chef at a small, but popular, restaurant in Paris. I was practically born in the kitchen," Giselle answered. "I will join you in a few moments."

  Evey set the final two plates in front of Tully and Megan before returning to refill the coffee cups. A tap at the back door drew her attention. Ralph stepped into the kitchen and removed his cap. He looked around sheepishly.

  "Ah, the missing breakfast guest," Giselle said. "You are just in time."

  Ralph nodded and moved toward the kitchen table.

  "We're in the dining room this morning, Ralph," Evey said as she poured him a mug of coffee.

  "This is fine, Miz Evey."

  "In the dining room," Evey insisted. "You're a part of this family, too."

  Ralph looked out of place as he took a seat next to Brad, who took time from his eating to shake Ralph's rough hand and introduce the others at the table. Finally, Evey and Giselle joined the rest of the large extended family. Giselle sat next to her children, leaving the only remaining seat next to Joan. Evey slipped into the seat and spread a napkin in her lap.

  "Tully, we're taking Jericho out after breakfast. He's beginning to balk," Evey said after a few bites of her omelet.

  "Okay," the handsome twenty-year-old said. "You riding or am I?"

  "I'll ride. The owner's daughter is about my size and weight. You follow me and see if you notice anything unusual about his gait. It could be something as simple as that. Hopefully."

  "You're going riding this morning?" Joan asked.

  "We're working with a new horse for a client. He's been behaving a little erratically and the owner wants him to be more stable before his daughter takes him out. Would you like to join us?"

  "It's been years since I rode."

  "It's a cross-country course. We'll be gone for hours," Tully said around a mouthful of food.

  "I don't have any other plans," Joan said.

  "You can follow me with Tully." Evey looked across the table at her manager. "Ralph, after breakfast, please saddle Jackson for Ms. Carmichael and see if we have an extra pair of chaps."

  "Yes'm," Ralph said.

  After breakfast, Evey, Tully, and Ralph left the house. Joan went to her room and, after a quick shower, changed into a pair of jeans and a short sleeved shirt. By the time she reached the stables, Ralph was leading a tall chestnut to a mounting area. Tully and Evey followed, leading other horses. The horse Evey led was a tall, sleek brownish-black gelding. Joan could easily see the powerful muscles in his rear legs as he danced around, eager to run. Evey patted his neck and spoke softly and calmly to him. "Leg up," she finally said. Tully laced his fingers together, gripped Evey's knee, and boosted her easily into the saddle. She adjusted the stirrups and tightened the riding helmet under her chin as she settled into the small saddle.

  Ralph wrapped a set of chaps around Joan's lower legs. "They'll keep your legs from getting' cut by the brush," he explained. He handed Joan a riding helmet.

  Tully turned to Joan. "Leg up?" he asked.

  Joan
glanced up at Evey and cleared her throat before nodding. Evey Chase looked stunning in her tan riding pants and sleeveless white pullover. She looked confident as her thighs gripped the sides of the animal beneath her while she tightened her helmet. A short black crop protruded from under her left arm. Please don't toss me over the horse, Joan prayed silently. She smiled to herself as Tully boosted her onto the horse's back and handed her the reins.

  "It's been a while," she said. "I'm sure I'll walk funny tomorrow."

  Evey laughed as Tully mounted his horse. "I'll look forward to seeing that. We're taking an easy route first. It should be a simple ride."

  The three riders started at a walk and gradually increased their pace, allowing both the horses and Joan to become accustomed to her mount. Evey stopped about a half mile from the main house and turned Jericho in a full circle. She looked at Tully. "You and Joan go ahead. I'll start about a minute after you so you can watch the approach to the first jump."

  "Jump?" Joan asked.

  "Jericho and I will take the jumps. You and Tully will only watch to see if this big boy does anything unusual."

  For nearly an hour, Evey and Jericho sailed easily over a series of fallen trees and negotiated a twisting course through the wooded area on the farm's property without incident. Joan watched in amazement as the slender woman encouraged the huge animal beneath her over the obstacles. There was something balletic about the movement of the horse and rider together.

  Evey rejoined Joan and Tully and allowed the prancing horse to catch his breath.

  "His breathing doesn't seem labored," Tully said.

  "Yeah, I haven't noticed a change in his stride or felt his muscles tense abnormally," Evey said. "But this was an easy course and we set a leisurely pace. Maybe I should try to push him a little harder."

  "Want me to do it?"

  "No," Evey said. "He's used to my voice and weight now. Ready?"

  "Which jump is he balking on?" Tully asked. "He looked perfect over the logs."

  "The owner didn't say, but I'm guessing it's on a more difficult jump than we warmed up on."

  "Be careful, Mom," Tully said as he turned his horse to leave.

  "Always," Evey replied. She cast a confident smile at Joan and said, "See you at the next jump."

  EVEY WAITED UNTIL the other riders were well ahead of her then patted Jericho on the neck. "Okay, big guy, let's try to keep my ass in the saddle," she said. She started at a run across an open field that led to the first jump, a wooden fence. Jericho's approach was flawless and he sailed easily over the obstacle. Evey could feel her confidence in the horse growing as she entered another wooded area on the course, ducking occasionally to avoid branches. She felt brush slap against her chaps as she urged Jericho forward. Ten minutes later they approached the next to last obstacle before the full out run to the finish line. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment and managed to take in a deep breath, keeping her memories pushed back in her mind. The course entered a downhill section forcing Evey to lean back slightly in the saddle for balance. She saw the approach to the water jump and tightened her grip on the reins. Then she noticed a change in the way Jericho was moving, almost as if he were attempting to back up. The next thing she saw was the blue of the sky above her as she was catapulted out of the saddle and over Jericho's head. She released the reins and braced for the impact. She wasn't quite prepared for the feel of cold wetness engulfing her clothing. She fell onto her back almost in the middle of the small stream at the base of the jump. The impact forced the breath from her lungs and she gasped for air.

  Evey finally managed a breath and pushed her body up onto her elbows. She heard Tully calling to her and knew he would be frightened. He hadn't been born when Les was killed in a jumping accident over a water obstacle, but had heard about it his whole life. She slowly raised a hand to signal she was unhurt, before dropping back into the water. Strong arms slid under her shoulders and lifted her. She opened her eyes and saw the worried look on Joan's face.

  "I'm okay. Just knocked the breath out of me for a minute. Help me up," Evey said in a raspy voice. Once standing she looked down at her clothes. "Shit. I'm all wet."

  The sound of laughter drew Evey's attention to the tall woman standing next to her, holding her arm. "Impressed?" Evey asked with a grin.

  "Absolutely," Joan said. "But you scared the crap out of me."

  "Scared you? You should have seen it from my perspective," Evey managed. "It's the downhill slide," she continued, looking at Tully, who was calming Jericho. "Right in the middle of the approach he tried to back up. When that didn't work, he threw on the brakes."

  "Can we fix it?" Tully asked.

  "Yeah, but it might take a while." Evey turned and slogged out of the water. "Let's get him back to the stable."

  "Will he be able to compete?" Joan asked as she reached out to steady Evey on the muddy embankment.

  "Every course has three or four water obstacles, but usually only one downhill obstacle. Could be worse. Damn I feel old."

  "I predict you'll feel sore tomorrow. Between my walking funny and you favoring your back, I'm sure we'll both have to endure more than a few "˜old people' jokes."

  Tully guided Jericho around the obstacle and held the reins out to his mother. "Leg up?" he asked.

  "Looks like they've already begun," Evey smirked as she approached her son.

  "There's blood on your shirt," Joan gasped.

  "The rocks in that stream weren't very soft," Evelyn said. "I'll clean up when we get back to the house."

  "Can I suggest a more leisurely pace on the way back?" Joan asked. "You need it for sure and my butt would love you for it."

  "Promise?" Evey asked with a wink. She watched as Joan's cheeks reddened slightly.

  "FALL AGAIN?" BETH asked as Evey entered her home through the back door.

  "Well, duh," Evey answered. "Is that what our money to the nursing school is paying for? Smart-ass remarks about the obvious?"

  Joan came through the back door a moment later. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes so I can check the damage to your back." She turned to Beth. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

  "I'll bring it up," Beth said as Joan guided Evey toward the stairs.

  "I'm going to shower first, so give me a few minutes," Evey called back over her shoulder.

  At the foot of the stairs, Evey paused to draw in a deep breath, grimacing as her back muscles and ribs objected to expanding. Joan placed an arm around Evey's waist and helped her slowly up the stairs. "Thanks," Evey said.

  "No problem. Do you always provide such exciting entertainment for your guests?"

  "Not usually," Evey said. "Is Tully all right?"

  "He's fine, but worried to death about you."

  "His father died in a similar fall."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't know that. Should I check on your son while you shower? To let him know you're okay."

  "He's seen me fall many times before. He knows Les died in a fall, but I've never told him which obstacle."

  "When did it happen?"

  "I was pregnant with Tully when Les was killed. His horse balked and he didn't let go of the reins. He broke his neck because he was too damned competitive. One minute he was in the lead and the next he was dead."

  "I'm so sorry," Joan said.

  Evey looked up at Joan and forced a smile. "He died doing what he wanted. Not a terrible way to go, I guess."

  "He left you alone to care for three children and a farm," Joan snapped.

  Evey stopped and looked at her house guest. "It wasn't something he planned," she said.

  Joan cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. So Tully never knew his father."

  "None of the kids really did. Brad's the oldest and he was only six. Beth was two."

  "And you've been alone all this time?"

  "I wasn't alone. I had three little people who depended on me."

  "Except for Meg, ours were almost grown when we lost Martine. I suppose that makes me slightly more
fortunate than you."

  "You're never fortunate when you lose someone you care for, no matter when or how it happens." Evey could feel the warmth of Joan's arm encircling her waist. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable about liking the feeling, but fought it off.

  Evey unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged it off her shoulders. "How bad is it?" she asked. "My dress for the wedding will hopefully cover it."

  "There are a couple of cuts. Not too bad, but your back will be an interesting blend of not-so-lovely colors for a few days. Take your shower. I'll check back in a little bit and tend to these cuts."

  "Could you unfasten my bra before you leave?" Evey asked. "I can already feel my muscles tightening up."

  Joan cleared her throat before stepping closer to Evey. "Of course," she said.

  Evey held the bra as it was unfastened. She looked over her shoulder at Joan. "Thanks."

  AS SOON AS Evey closed the bathroom door, Joan fled to her room. She shut the door and leaned against it. She closed her eyes and remembered the softness of Evey's skin, the paleness of it, her broad, muscled shoulders. She shook her head to throw the thoughts from her mind. What the hell is wrong with me?

  Chapter Six

  IT HAD BEEN a long, exhausting day of work and there were still seven days to go until the wedding. Evey sat slumped down on the couch with her legs stretched out in front of her. Her back was still a little sore, but she'd been hurt worse. Her baseball cap was pulled down over her face and her eyes were closed. Work around the farm was an everyday thing, but combined with hosting a houseful of guests and the wedding planning, she felt torn in three different directions at once. Then there had been that touch. Joan's fingers tender as they burned a path along Evey's back after her fall. She'd almost be willing to take another fall if Joan Carmichael would be her nurse afterward.

  Evey's head bounced on the back of the couch when Beth plopped her arms over it.

  "Ya sleepin'?" she asked.

  "Not anymore," Evey said.

  "I have an idea," she said.

  Evey groaned and turned her head to look at her daughter. There was no way in hell she could stop the smile that crossed her face. Twinkling hazel eyes, that matched her own, stared back at her and short, light brown hair fell forward slightly. Evey missed having her daughter at home more often.