She hungered for a man to care about and to love. A man who would be good to Gabby. A man who would want to make his home here on the farm. She didn’t think Mitch Cunningham would ever give up the bright lights of Hollywood or the fast-paced life he led, but maybe Mitch would be a stand-in until the real love of her life made an appearance.
She thought about her husband, the man she’d divorced before Gabby was born. Once she’d thought she loved him, and she supposed she had, in a limited kind of way. Buddy was deaf and used sign language the way she had until her speech came back to her. Resentful of his wife’s ability to speak, Buddy moved out of her life and went back to Ohio, where he’d been born. She’d never told him about Gabby. Her reasoning was, if Buddy didn’t love or want her any longer, he certainly wouldn’t want a baby.
Sometimes she had nightmares about Buddy coming back into her life and demanding she turn Gabby over to him. Lately, for some reason, she was having the dreams more and more frequently, a sure sign that she was worried about the reality of it happening at some not-too-distant time. She shivered at the thought.
Emmie gave her head a mental shake to drive away the thought of Buddy Owens. A trip over to the stallion barn to see the two newest colts was in order. She sucked in her breath when she imagined her mother’s reaction when she arrived the following week.
She had purchased two colts born from Shufly, each with a different dam, from Metaxas Parish at the Keeneland sale. She had high hopes they would be Derby material.
She entered the dim barn and made her way to Gadfly’s stall. The moment he saw her he laid back his ears. Taking a deep breath she moved two stalls down to Hifly’s stall. His ears perked at the sight of her. Hifly was small and funny-looking, the horse no one else wanted. When she’d brought him home from the Keeneland sale, Cordell had looked at her, then at Hifly and shook his head. “He’s a runt. There must have been a bad gene pool in that dam. Don’t tell me you’re even considering putting him in training.”
Emmie bit down on her tongue. There was something about Hifly that made her want to defend him. He was a spirited yearling, loving and eager to please. Gadfly, on the other hand, was ornery and always out of sorts. The day she’d brought him home, she told Cordell that she and she alone would be responsible for the colts’ care. Why she’d done that, she didn’t know. What she was trying to prove, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted to do it, had to do it.
Soon she was going to have to make a decision since both colts were a year old and training would have to begin. Even if she made the decision to race them, she had no jockey. She knew she was capable of training both horses but she wasn’t, nor could she ever be, a jockey. At least that’s what her mother told her early on.
Hifly stuck his neck out of his stall to nuzzle her neck, then tried to stick his nose inside the pocket of her shirt for his mint. Mints were her mother’s trick for instant bonding. Such a little thing, yet so effective. She handed it over and tried to give him an apple, which he spit out. She doubled over laughing as she reached for more mints in her pocket. He snorted his approval.
“Guess what! I have a date,” she whispered. As if this horse really cared. Still, he was someone to talk to, someone to share with. The best part was he didn’t answer back.
Tonight was going to be her first date in years. Since Buddy, actually. She felt a little nervous at the prospect, but since she liked Mitch Cunningham maybe the evening would go well.
On the walk up to the house, Emmie childishly crossed her fingers. Inside the kitchen, she almost called out Smitty’s name, the way she had every day since the office manager’s retirement. Smitty had retired along with Dover Wilkie when her mother married Hatch Littletree and moved to Santa Fe. Emmie had a new office manager now named Agnes Beakman. She ran a tight ship and didn’t believe in familiarity, to Emmie’s dismay. She also refused to baby-sit Gabby when she got home from school, which necessitated hiring a live-in nanny for the little girl.
Things at Blue Diamond Farms had changed a lot since her mother moved away.
There was a new housekeeper these days, too, named Gertie Zoloff, but she went home at night, leaving Emmie and Gabby alone with Terry Timmins, the nanny. It was a situation that worked for Emmie but wouldn’t have worked for her mother.
Emmie found herself grimacing as she made her way up to the second floor. Her mother wasn’t going to like all the changes she’d made. She wondered how verbal she would be about her dislikes.
The bathwater steamed upward. Emmie poured her favorite avocado bath salts under the gushing water and inhaled deeply. She tested the water with her big toe and quickly withdrew it. She turned off the hot water and let cold water rush from the tap before she slid down into the silky wetness.
Mitch Cunningham’s choice of restaurant was twenty-five miles away. The Picador was small and intimate, with the twelve tables spaced far enough apart so conversation stayed private. Emmie loved it immediately.
“One of my crew found it while he was out riding around. Most of the guys eat here every weekend. The food is quite good, and the service is one-on-one,” Mitch said, holding out her chair for her.
“You look so different, Emmie. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and shirts. You should dress up more often.”
Emmie blinked. She supposed it was a compliment. She smiled. “You look rather nice yourself,” she said, indicating his creased khakis and button-down white shirt. His unruly hair was slicked back, but somehow his curls had worked loose and fallen across his forehead.
“When will you finish and wrap up?” Emmie asked, looking around at the greenery that graced the corners of the restaurant. She wanted to remember everything about this first date with Mitch Cunningham, right down to the draperies on the windows and the paintings on the walls.
Behind her she could hear the clink of silver and crystal. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted her way. She sighed.
“Two more days. I already have miles of tape on the pastures, the paddocks, and the bluegrass, but I want more. It’s that, from every angle, perspective. I’m going to hang around in town till all your family gets here. We’ll do some shooting that day, then I head back to California. The crew will be staying on to film the Kentucky Derby. Since you’re all going to attend, I’d like to get that on film, too.”
“You really like what you do, don’t you?” Emmie asked.
“I do. My uncle gave me his old Brownie Hawkeye along with a load of film when I was eight or so. I had over a hundred pictures of my thumb before I got the hang of it. I really enjoyed it. While my friends were playing football and tennis, I was taking their pictures and selling them to the newspapers. It all just evolved. I would imagine I love my profession the way you love working with the horses. I never realized how big those horses were until I got up close to them. I could never in a million years do what you do.”
Emmie laughed, a light musical sound. “I still take pictures of my thumb when I try to take pictures of Gabby or Cookie, her little dog.” She held out her puffy-looking hand for him to see. When he frowned, she jerked her hand back and put it in her lap. “I couldn’t do what you do, either.”
“Do you know what really stunned me, Emmie?” Mitch said, leaning across the table.
“What?” Emmie smiled at the serious look on his face as she wondered what was coming next.
“Your families are all so rich. I thought you’d all be snobs and act like those throw-your-weight-around rich people. The kind I have to deal with all the time in Hollywood. You’re just normal, everyday, nice people. None of you flaunt your money, you don’t wear designer duds, and you don’t drive fancy cars. All of you are generous to a fault. You’ve all had serious setbacks, and tragic things have happened to your family just the way they happen to other people. I find it remarkable. Why are you looking at me like that, Emmie? Everything I said, I meant as a compliment.”
“Yes, I know. I guess it’s that ‘rich’ part that bothe
rs me. I don’t think about it. I work for my money and I bank it. I live on my salary, and I support Gabby with my own money. I don’t think about . . . all the rest.”
“That’s what makes you all so unique. The rest of your family is the same way. All of you give away more than you keep.”
“Can we talk about something else? How is it you aren’t married? Forty-two-year-old men are usually married,” Emmie said, her face rosy with the question.
“I was married once for about ten minutes. I came close a few other times, but I guess I just didn’t meet the right girl. What about you, or is that part of the don’t ask section that takes in Gabby?”
“I’m divorced. I was married a little longer than ten minutes. We were childhood friends so it was inevitable we marry. We did, for all the wrong reasons. My ex lives in Ohio. I haven’t seen or heard from him in years. I’d like to get married again someday. I found marriage to be very comforting. I’ll bet it’s downright cozy if you’re married to the right person.”
“I think you could be right,” Mitch said, throwing his head back and laughing. Emmie smiled. She was flirting and loving every minute of it. She could hardly wait to share this experience with her mother.
2
Hatch Littletree watched his wife when she stepped out of the car at Blue Diamond Farms, a look of pure rapture on her face. She was home, and that said it all. He felt out of control for the first time in their yearlong marriage.
Nealy had agreed to move to Santa Fe so he could be near his legal firm, which also meant she could be near her son Nick. His stomach started to grind in turmoil as he watched her run down to the barn, where Emmie was waiting for her. He watched mother and daughter hug, and even from this distance could see the tears on both their faces.
Had he made a mistake by taking Nealy to Santa Fe? After this reunion visit, he would know for certain. He listened to their excited chatter. He couldn’t remember the last time Nealy had been so animated, so excited. This was her home, and she missed it. Maybe it was time to make some adjustments in their lives.
Hatch walked down to the barn when Nealy motioned to him. “Hurry, Hatch, Emmie wants us to see the two yearlings. Oh, I can’t wait to see those two beauties.”
“They’re in the north paddock, Mom,” Emmie said, as she hugged Hatch. She winced when he squeezed her. “It’s good to see both of you. Come on,” she said, walking away, trying not to limp. Today both her knees and ankles were hurting. She’d put on Ace bandages but they weren’t helping. She didn’t want to think about how many aspirin she’d taken already, and the day was just beginning.
Gadfly and Hifly were grazing on the spring grass when the trio approached. Gadfly raised his head and looked at Emmie.
“Oh, Emmie, he’s a beauty,” Nealy said, admiring the horse’s conformation. She leaned over the board fencing to see him better.
Hatch could see the sparkle and the love in his wife’s eyes and knew the answer to the question he’d asked himself just moments ago. Yes, it had been a mistake moving Nealy to Santa Fe. He’d been selfish trying to keep her to himself. Nealy belonged at Blue Diamond Farms with her horses.
“Where’s Hifly?”
Emmie pointed to the paddock farther down. She watched as her mother frowned. “That’s the horse you think has potential! He looks like a runt! No! How much did you say you paid for him? For God’s sake, Emmie, his legs are too short. He could never run the distance. On top of that, he looks like a plow horse. You actually paid money for this plug!”
Emmie deflated like a pricked balloon. “I disagree. I know he’s small and that his legs are short, but he has heart, Mom. I paid five thousand for him at Keeneland like I told you in my letter. He might not look like Gadfly, but his sire is still Shufly. I’m sorry you don’t like him, but it doesn’t really matter. He’s mine, and I’m training him.”
Nealy looked up to see Hatch flash her a warning look. She backed down immediately. “I’m sorry, Emmie. I guess I didn’t think Shufly could produce anything but large, beautiful offspring. He is small. He’s strange-looking, too. What exactly are you training him to do?”
“Maybe some stakes races. Maybe the Derby. If I could find just the right jockey, I think he could run the Derby. I mean that. Take a good look at him, Mom. He’s an absolute love. He’s gentle, he listens, and he’s a quick learner. Gadfly is none of those things, plus he’s mean as hell. Mean, Mom. Tell me who Hifly reminds you of?”
“John Henry,” Nealy said without thinking. “Everyone remembers John Henry and his rags-to-riches story. He’s a legend.”
“Nobody wanted this guy. It was actually embarrassing. Metaxas wanted to give him to me, but I said no. So I bid five thousand bucks for him, and he’s all mine. I think he knew no one wanted him and was grateful to me for taking him. He’s good as gold. You know, Mom, you aren’t always right. Give me some credit, okay?”
It was Nealy’s turn to deflate. “You’re right, Emmie. I’m sorry. Do what you think is right. I think I might know a jockey for you. He isn’t a jockey yet, but I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the young man I have in mind is the answer to your prayers. He’ll be here shortly. I’m going to be staying on for a while to train him.”
“You’re staying!” Emmie exclaimed. Her face wore a mixture of expressions Hatch couldn’t define.
The grinding in Hatch’s stomach picked up its tempo.
“Is that going to be a problem, Emmie?” Nealy asked quietly as she correctly interpreted the look on her daughter’s face.
“No. As long as you don’t interfere with the way I do things. I have a system, Mom, and it isn’t like yours. Things aren’t the same around here since you left. Smitty is gone, but her replacement is just as good. We have a new housekeeper, and Gabby has a nanny who lives in. I don’t go to bed at eight o’clock and get up at four like you did. I have reliable, dependable help I can count on. I have a life outside the farm.”
“I see,” Nealy said, actually seeing more than she had bargained for. “No, Emmie, I won’t interfere.” Nealy turned to Hatch, her eyes bright with tears. “I guess it’s true, you can’t go home again no matter how much you love that home,” she whispered so that only her husband could hear the words. Hatch draped his arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture as they made their way up to the house.
In the kitchen, Nealy looked around. It was different, as was the person standing at the stove. She felt uncertain, unwanted, and out of place when she walked over to the counter where the coffeepot stood. It was empty. She was about to reach up into the cabinet for the coffee can when the housekeeper fixed her with a steely glare. “What is it you want, ma’am, and might I ask who you are, walking into my kitchen?”
Nealy bristled. “I was going to make some coffee. I’m Emmie’s mother and I own this place. This is my husband Hatch, Mrs. Zoloff, and I’m Nealy. We’re going to be staying on for a while.”
“I’ll make you some coffee, ma’am. I don’t like people being in my kitchen when I’m working. You can sit in the dining room, and I’ll fetch the coffee when it’s ready.”
Nealy nodded as she backed out of the kitchen. “I think we’ll wait on the front porch instead.”
On the porch, settled in Maud’s old rocker, Nealy drew her knees up to her chest. “This isn’t going to work, is it, Hatch?” She stared off into the distance, her shoulders shaking.
“I don’t know, Nealy. Things seem to be a bit different. We talked about this when you turned the farm over to Emmie. Are you thinking you made a mistake in coming back here, honey?”
Nealy looked at the wilted geraniums in their white baskets. Most of the leaves were yellow, and even from where she was sitting, she could tell the soil was dry. Smitty had always watered the plants when she forgot. She looked around. The porch was dirty, in need of a good scrubbing. Even the chair she was sitting on was dirty. She fought the urge to cry. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Obviously, Emmie isn’t overworked although she looks tired t
o me. She doesn’t run around the way I remember. The truth is, she trudges. It’s almost like she’s in pain or something. Why didn’t she water these plants? I guess ‘this life’ she has doesn’t include such mundane things as watering plants. The porch needs painting. So do all the windows. It’s only been a year, Hatch. I feel . . . betrayed. Is that the right word?”
“Nealy, maybe the porch, the flowers, the cleaning, and the painting aren’t as important to Emmie as they were to you. Maybe she doesn’t like to sit in the kitchen like you used to do. Don’t expect too much is what I’m saying. You know, Nealy, we could find a place in town to rent if you don’t want to stay here at the farm.”
“Or maybe Emmie could go back to her own house and we’ll stay here,” Nealy snapped irritably. “When I walked away from this farm, everything was in order. There have been rules in place from the days when Maud and Jess ran Blue Diamond Farms. Rules and a system that worked perfectly. The house never needed paint, and the flowers were always watered. Gabby is in school and has a nanny, so she can’t be taking up too much of Emmie’s time.”
“Whoa, honey. Slow down here. You can say whatever you want to me, but you better be careful what you say to Emmie. I sensed a bit of pride in her. She’s running things very well. Perhaps differently than you did, but still running things. I didn’t see one thing amiss down by the barns, and those horses all looked great to me. Face it, honey, you don’t like change.”
Kentucky Sunrise Page 3
