Kentucky Sunrise

by Fern Michaels

  All during her session with the swirling water, her mind raced. What would it be like to finally see her father? Would he put his arms around her? Would he talk nice and say how much he wished he could have been a part of her life? Most important of all, would she like him? Was it even remotely possible that they could become father and daughter at this stage in their lives? Did she even want that?

  Later, after the session, the therapist handed his written report over to the doctor in charge of Emmie’s care. The summary was simple: “Something came over Emmie while she was in the whirlpool. Some kind of transformation, for lack of a better explanation. She stiffened and her eyes started to sparkle like she had a mission to fulfill. I feel this is a good thing. She was smiling and apologized for giving me such a hard time prior to today. I think she made the decision to stop battling us.”

  Emmie took extra pains with her makeup and even dabbed perfume behind her ears, delicious-smelling perfume given to her by Nick for her birthday. The dress she chose to wear was yellow linen with matching extra-wide sandals with special grippers over the instep for extra support. Her hair curled naturally over her ears and forehead. She looked like her father. She knew that because she’d seen pictures of him at the Keeneland sales and at the Kentucky Derby.

  Precisely at ten minutes till nine, she wheeled her chair toward Dr. Hunter’s office, where she canceled her ten o’clock appointment.

  “Emmie, you know the rules. If you aren’t having visitors, your sessions go on as scheduled.”

  “I’m having a visitor. I have to go now or I’ll be late. If you don’t believe me, check for yourself.”

  “But you said you didn’t want to see your mother.”

  “It’s not my mother. It’s not important for you to know who my visitor is, Doctor Hunter. I’m having a visitor, that’s it. You all encourage this, and I’m complying. I’ll see you for our session tomorrow.”

  She saw him first. He looked elegant, almost like a movie star, with his well-cut suit, deep tan, and white Stetson. Her father. She brought the wheelchair to a stop and stood up. “I’m Emmie,” she said, holding out her hand. A hug was too much to expect. “Just don’t squeeze my hand.”

  “Businesspeople shake hands. Father’s hug their daughters,” Dillon Roland said, wrapping his arms about his daughter. “Hmmm, you smell nice.” Emmie swooned. She flushed and felt warm all over.

  “Do we have a game plan?” he asked.

  “I thought we’d go to my cottage. I have a nice patio outside, and we can sit there or stay indoors. First, though, you have to sign in. Please, use another name if you don’t mind. I’ll explain later.”

  “I understand. How does Dwight Holcum sound?”

  “Like a phony name.” Emmie giggled.

  “Then, let’s do it!” Dillon laughed.

  They talked of everything and nothing. They laughed, they smiled, and touched hands from time to time. Emmie felt at peace for the first time in years. She knew if she closed her eyes, she would fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  “Now that you know everything there is to know about me, how about telling me all about you. Start with when you first met my mother. Please don’t leave anything out because you want to spare my feelings. I just need to know. My book of life has always had missing pages.”

  He sat back against the cushioned patio chair and gazed at the desert landscaping that surrounded the facility. “I used to sit across from your mother on the school bus. Not every day because I was involved pretty heavily in sports and everything was after school. Your mom had to get right home to do her chores. I never had chores or responsibilities other than to play sports and excel. I managed to get myself pretty banged up over the years and had knee-replacement surgery a few years ago. My father expected me to be the best of the best, and I did my damnedest to become what he wanted. It wasn’t easy a lot of the time because there was another side to me, a noncompetitive side. I used to be a secret poet. In fact, I wrote a lot of poems for your mom.”

  Emmie’s mouth fell open.

  Dillon nodded. “Yeah, I know. It probably sounds pretty sappy to someone your age, but the truth is I fell pretty hard for your mom. She was shy and didn’t mingle with the other kids. Most of the time she looked frightened and tired. She was prettier than a newborn filly. I wanted to get to know her, so I used to sneak over to the barn. I slipped her a note on the bus one day and the next day she slipped one back to me. We’d meet in the barn late in the evening. She’d sneak down to the barn, and I’d sneak out of the house and ride my bike to meet her. In the beginning we’d just talk and laugh and hold hands. I’d read her my poems, and she’d smile. I didn’t have a mother and neither did she, so we had a lot in common. My father was every bit the tyrant her father was. Over a period of months, we became close so it was inevitable that we . . . we made love. It was wonderful. She was my first girlfriend and I was her first boyfriend. I think we were in love or as much in love as two youngsters can be. Then the roof fell in. Nealy told me she was pregnant. I just stood there looking at her when she told me. All I could think of was that my father was going to kill me. I didn’t think about her at all. I didn’t take the bus home after that. I didn’t take it to school either. I lived in mortal fear that she would tell her father, and he would come gunning for me. I saw my whole life going down the drain. Again, I didn’t think about Nealy at all or the baby she was carrying.”

  Me, Emmie thought. She was carrying me, not “the baby.” It was only when she saw her father’s anguished expression that she realized that she was being self-indulgent, thinking only of herself.

  Dillon continued his story. “Then the day came when she wasn’t on the bus. I knew because I used to lurk in the bushes to get a look at her. That very day, I skipped school and sneaked over to her house and cornered her in the barn. I told her . . . what I told her was I would blow her head off with my father’s shotgun if she ever told anyone I was the father of her baby. She just stood there looking at me. She didn’t say a word. Not one word. I went home and bawled my head off.

  “I went off to college that year. When I went home for breaks or holidays I would hear the rumors. The story was some vagrant attacked her in the barn. The second year when I went home, I heard she had left with her baby. I was sick all over again. I occasionally thought about her over the next few years, and she more or less faded from my memory, but I could always resurrect her when I wanted to. I’d get out my book of poems and read them and remember how she looked or what she said when I read them to her.

  “I eventually married Allison. We had three sons. They’re pretty much worthless, thanks to their mother spoiling them. None of them has ever worked a day in his life thanks to trust funds. I never loved Allison, and I don’t think she loved me. Our parents considered it a merger. She died from breast cancer. Everything I inherited from her I donated to breast cancer research. The boys howled and yowled, but I did it anyway. That’s pretty much the story of your mother and me.”

  “She hates you,” Emmie said.

  “Yes, I know. She has every reason to hate me. I abandoned her, left her to fend for herself. I was mean, selfish, and hateful. But, I’ve changed. People can change, you know. I don’t want you to hate me. Do you think we can work through all that? I have a lot of regrets, regrets I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life. I’d like to try if you’re willing. It will be nice finally to acknowledge you. Not having done so is my one true regret in my life.”

  Emmie swallowed. She had regrets, too. Regrets about Buddy, about her mother, about Gadfly, about life. She looked down at her puffy hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, I know what you have to do, young lady. You have to get better, and then I’d like it if you’d come to live with me in Virginia. We have a whole lifetime to catch up on. I’d like to get to know my granddaughter as well. I want us to start out right. I think you should tell your ex-husband about Gabby. If you want that horse you love so much, we’ll
get him back for you. We can train him together if that’s what you want. You are the only one who can make these decisions, and they don’t have to be made right now. We have all the time in the world.”

  Emmie smiled. “Are you as hungry as I am?”

  “I’m pretty hungry,” Dillon said.

  “They go all out in the dining room on Visitor’s Day. The food is really good.”

  “In that case, allow me to escort you to the dining room. I’d like it if you called me Dad. I know you have to earn a title like that, but if you can say it and mean it, I’d sure like to respond.”

  “Okay, Dad, let’s go to lunch.”

  Ian Hunter flipped the pages of the Visitor’s Book until he came to the name Dwight Holcum. Next to the name was Emmie’s signature. Who in the hell was Dwight Holcum? He looked familiar.

  He carried his salad and iced tea from the buffet line and settled himself across the room. He deliberately chose a table that would allow him to observe his patient and her guest. He was finishing his tea when Emmie looked up and waved. They were both facing him. He was stunned at his conclusion.

  Like father, like daughter.

  PART II

  8

  The mansion had always reminded her of the white-pillared Tara in Gone With the Wind. Even the sweeping grounds and the ancient oaks dripping Spanish moss were reminiscent of the movie. Emmie Coleman, now Emmie Roland, was mistress of all she surveyed, thanks to her indulgent father.

  She was back in the swing of things, working a few hours a day in the barns with her father’s Thoroughbreds and acting as his hostess when he entertained. She was happier than she’d ever been before.

  The year she’d spent in the Thornton rehab center had flown by, thanks to her father’s monthly visits. He spurred her on to challenge her limits and took great pride in even her smallest accomplishments. These days she had no regrets.

  At the end of her stay, with Dr. Hunter’s help, she’d made important decisions that would affect the rest of her life. She was comfortable with her new life. If she missed her mother or Blue Diamond Farms it wasn’t noticeable to anyone who knew her. She refused even to think about the ugly scene with her mother when she told her of her decision to live with her father.

  Her health had improved greatly. Knowing someone cared about her enough to monitor her well-being constantly meant more to Emmie than all the riches in the world. And she owed it all to her newfound father, who was also a doting grandfather.

  Emmie surveyed the lunch table, adjusted one of the fine linen napkins before she stood back to admire her handiwork. Lunch was always special for her father because he only had black coffee early in the morning and was starved by lunchtime. A pretty table was something he liked. She always made sure there were fresh flowers in the center of the table, and every single day, when lunch was finished, he plucked one of the flowers and handed it to her with a low, sweeping bow.

  They were having potato-crusted salmon, a garden salad, and a fruit compote for dessert. For her brother Nick, who would be arriving shortly, there would be a large T-bone steak and a twice-baked potato.

  Nick had invited himself to stop by on his way to visit their uncles, Rhy and Pyne. “It will just be for lunch. I’m anxious to see Gabby and to meet your father,” he’d said on the telephone. She looked down at her watch at the same time she heard the doorbell. She didn’t wait for Caruthers, her father’s houseman, to open the door; she ran to it, thrust it open, and jumped into her brother’s arms.

  “Whoa, Nellie.” Nick laughed. “If I had known I was going to get such a greeting, I’d have come sooner. You look good, Emmie. Real good. Are you happy? Don’t answer that. I can see for myself that you’re glowing and sparkling. I’m happy for you,” he said, hugging her. “You feeling okay?”

  “Yes, I’m feeling fine these days. I still have to take medication, but look, I can make a fist again, and my feet and most of my joints are back to normal. I go once a month to be checked from head to toe. Dad makes me go. In fact, he takes me and waits to get the reports. So far so good. What’s new with you? Dad’s running late today, so let’s go into the sunroom and talk a bit. I want to hear everything. I know you didn’t just come here to see me and our uncles. What’s up? Is it Willow?”

  Nick flopped down into a deep recliner. “Damn, you always did manage to home in on the crux of something when it involves me. Yeah, it’s Willow, it’s Mom, it’s Hatch. Hell, it’s everything. Willow was picked up in Chula Vista and arrested last week. She was hiding out in Tijuana. Mom’s real pissy. Hatch is glowering about Willow and doesn’t want to defend her. I’m in the middle of a kick-ass case I know I can’t win, and how is your life going?”

  “Wonderfully. Nick, I am so happy. Gabby is happy. Cookie is happy, and Dad is . . . wonderful. We get on so well. I call Mom once a week to say hello. She’s civil, and the conversation is usually about Gabby and lasts no longer than five minutes. I do call, though. You know you were her favorite, don’t you?”

  “That was your imagination, Emmie,” Nick hedged. “She treated us both the same.”

  “No, she didn’t, but it’s okay for you to think that. I learned a lot during the year I spent in Las Vegas. I’ve come to terms with everything. I had bags and bags of guilt I carried around. I tried so hard to be like Mom, I made myself sick. And in the end I managed to screw everything up. I learned something Mom has yet to learn. I love my daughter because she is my flesh and blood. I know that I’m capable of killing to protect her if that need ever arose. Mom . . . Mom used me as her penance for what she thought she did wrong. She took care of me, fed me, clothed me, but she didn’t allow herself to love me the way I love Gabby. She smothered all her feelings and channeled them into working like a mule. That was her choice. The mind is an amazing thing. All my life she made me feel guilty. It was like I ruined her life in some way. The way she treated me, acted with me, is the way she treated your father, Hunt. If anyone needs a shrink, it’s our mother. Going to the core of your being and pulling out all the uglies for someone else to see, in my case, Doctor Hunter, is what it’s all about. You talk it through, work at it, then one day you wake up and go, yeah, that’s what happened. Then you ask yourself how you can fix all those uglies. When your mind and body are healthy, you can deal with anything. It worked for me. I love Mom, but not the way a daughter should love a mother. It’s a different feeling. I can recognize the differences in everything in my life these days.”

  Nick stared at his sister, a stunned look on his face. “Jesus, Emmie, you just put into words what I’ve been feeling guilty about for years. I bet if we were horses, she would love us to death. You’re right about my dad, too. Sitting in his office, I think about him a lot on my downtime. I feel really close to him there. When I’m sitting in his chair, I remember little things he said, remember the way he looked at me or Mom like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing or seeing. Guilt is a terrible thing. You’re free now, aren’t you?” His voice was so full of awe, Emmie smiled.

  “Yes. Oh, God, yes, Nick.”

  Nick rubbed his chin, his eyes on his sister. “Think about this, Emmie. Your happiness now comes from your dad. My only happiness was with my dad. Even now, just sitting in the chair that was supposed to be his makes me happy. I know he’s watching over me. I know it as sure as I’m sitting here. Why couldn’t Mom give us that? Both of us busted our asses to be what she wanted. When we went back, it wasn’t because of Mom. We went back because of the place. Because of Blue Diamond Farms. It was the only home either one of us ever knew. Our roots were there. You didn’t take anything personal with you that concerned Mom when she booted us out. You took a patch of grass.”

  “I know all that, Nick.” Emmie smiled. “Doctor Hunter helped me figure it all out. Do you know what else he told me? He told me it’s okay if I don’t love Mom. He said if I cared about her it was enough. No one on this earth can force you to love someone if the feeling isn’t there. And, by the way, my patch of grass is
still growing. I have twelve blocks, and it’s thriving. There’s a greenhouse here, so it’s growing under perfect conditions. Boy, you should see my Gerber daisies!

  “Now, what’s wrong where Hatch is concerned? I wish you could stay longer. We didn’t even talk about Mom’s movie.” Her voice was so wistful, Nick hugged her.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong. He’s pissed because I can’t win this case I’m on even though the other partners agree with me. We never should have taken it on to begin with. He said his firm doesn’t lose cases, and maybe he made a mistake hiring me. He said I must have screwed up along the way, but I didn’t, Emmie. He’s like a wet hen, and now this thing with Willow came up. I’m thinking, and I could be wrong, that things down on the farm aren’t what he thought they were going to be, which brings it all back to Mom.”

  “Tell Hatch he doesn’t have to take Willow’s case if he doesn’t want to. I don’t care if she tells Buddy about Gabby. I’m prepared for it. I told you, I can deal with anything these days.”

  “I’m glad I came here. You saved me a lot of money in shrink bills. I’m so glad it’s working out for you, Emmie. What are you going to do about Hifly?”

  “Nothing. After the race, I’ll take him back and put him out to stud. Who knows, I might get a real winner one of these days, one I can train myself. I realized I couldn’t yank him away from Jake. The boy needs to do what he’s doing, and if I can help, so be it. It’s more important to him than it is to me. I know I keep saying this, but I learned how to sift through stuff, to analyze and make the right decisions. You have to look at the whole of something, look at the pros and cons and decide what’s best for everyone concerned and if you can live with it, you go for it. Jake is important. If it’s meant to be, it will be. Hey, I hear Dad’s car. Come on, I can’t wait for you to meet him.