Ladd Fortune

by Dianne Venetta

  If Casey had a husband yelling at her like that, she’d tell him to get his own spatula. She wasn’t his servant. But not Miss Ashley. She just ran and ran and ran.

  “Hey, darlin’.”

  Casey’s heart stopped, then thudded through her chest like a freight train. “Miss Ashley! I didn’t hear you come out,” she said, her cheeks flushing hot.

  Ashley moseyed near and lowered to a white wicker rocker beside Casey, laughing as usual. “Oh, child—I’m like a thief to the cookie jar when I need to be!”

  Casey tried to smile, but the effort failed. Good thing Miss Ashley couldn’t read minds. “I guess...”

  Ashley sighed. “I’m as full as a stuffed pork chop, I couldn’t eat another bite.”

  Dressed in rhinestone-punched red, white and blue, her boots candy apple red and scuffed with mud, Casey suppressed a chuckle. Splattered with barbecue sauce and grease stains, Miss Ashley’s sparkly stars and stripes apron looked as if she ate a dozen stuffed pork chops, some hamburgers, and a few greens to go with them! It was a shame to ruin a pretty apron like Miss Ashley always wore, but Casey knew there were ten more just like this one hanging in her pantry. As to her own wardrobe, Casey had decided against anything red, white or blue just to irk her mother.

  In no hurry Ashley eased back in her seat, took a cloth from an apron pocket and dabbed her brow. Her heavy makeup was beginning to slip from the heat, leaving a shine of perspiration in its place. “I swear Mother Nature must be having hot flashes—it’s so hot you could pull a baked potato right out of the ground!” She grinned at Casey. When Ashley’s smile didn’t catch a response, it withered to a frown. Blue eyes burrowed in. “Child, you know the party’s out back. What are you doing out here by your lonesome?”

  Casey turned from her. Taking a deep calming breath, she pulled knees to her chest and replied, “I know. Guess I’m not much in the mood for a party.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Ashley waved her off and tucked the handkerchief back in her pocket. “Nothing doesn’t come hide out on the front porch like a bandit.” With a slanted gaze she asked, “Who you running from—your momma?’

  Casey shook her head and plopped her chin onto her knees.

  “Now don’t you go fibbin’ to your Great-Godmother. It’s my job to keep you on the straight and narrow and I intend to see that you do.”

  Casey smiled. “I’m straight, Miss Ashley.”

  “Are you?” Ashley leaned forward and placed a hand to Casey’s back. She stroked her hair. Tender and caring as she probed, “Are you really?”

  “I am.” Though at times, Casey wished she weren’t. Life was easier when she didn’t have to think about everything—her mother’s disappointment, the family feud over Ladd Springs, the identity of her father. Most days she’d rather up and forget about it all.

  “You know I worry about you, Casey Melody.”

  “I know.”

  “You have a beautiful life ahead of you. All you need to do is step up and claim it. Grab a good strong hold of it and say, ‘Ready or not—here I come!’”

  Casey grinned. She’d always liked Miss Ashley. Positive and outgoing should be her middle name. Unlike her mother, Ashley believed in Casey, believed she could do anything and everything and helped encourage her to chase her dreams. Her mother? Casey could see the disappointment in her mom’s eyes as clearly as if it were branded across her blue eyes. Clear as a mountain stream, her mom looked at her own flesh and blood and thought, You’ll never be anything. You’re going nowhere and on the fast train to get there.

  “Hey, Miss Ashley.”

  Casey’s nerves zipped through her stomach at the sound of Troy’s voice. She gulped, lifting her head from her knees as Troy sauntered over.

  “Well hey, good-looking,” Ashley said easily, her smile large and welcoming.

  Casey privately agreed. Longish brown hair swept over his brow to one side drawing attention to his dark brown eyes. Like her, Troy skipped the red, white and blue and chose a snug black T-shirt instead, tucked neatly into his blue jeans. His cowboy boots were the same dusty brown he always wore, and Casey had to admit there was something strong and manly about Troy Parker. Something that always made her skin tingle.

  Troy peered down at her and said, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Casey.”

  His expression was friendly, sincere, as though he really meant it. Heartbeats fluttered in her breast. “You have?”

  He nodded. “Your mom said you’d be out here.”

  “I’m here,” she confirmed, hating that she sounded so stupid. Lowering her legs, she leaned back in her rocking chair and tried to sit like a normal person.

  Ashley lifted from her seat, the wood creaking beneath the change in weight. “I think I hear Booker calling my name,” she said with a wink. “You know I can’t keep the grill sergeant waiting too long, it jerks a knot in his tail.” Ashley ambled toward the front door and muttered, “Bless his heart, when God handed out patience, Booker was standing behind the door.”

  Troy smirked.

  Ashley smacked his arm and said, “Don’t you go repeating what I said either, young man. I’ll have your hide, you mention the first word to Mr. Fulmer.”

  Troy laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Dad gum, Miss Ashley—I wouldn’t think of it!”

  She grinned. “Good.”

  He shook his head slowly and watched her with a wary eye, almost as if he was anticipating another whack. “My momma didn’t raise no fool.”

  “No she didn’t,” Ashley agreed, “despite that foolish bruise on your face.” Troy touched the lump beneath his eye as she added, “In fact, I think I’ll go tell her what a fine young man you are, this minute.”

  Casey noticed Troy’s cheeks tinge ever so slightly.

  “Yes ma’am,” he replied. When Ashley disappeared into the house, he turned to Casey. “You want some company, or should I leave you alone?”

  She shrugged. Casey didn’t want him to think she was interested. It’d only make her feel dumb when he turned her down. “If you want.”

  Troy took Ashley’s chair and settled in, as though he planned to stay awhile. As he gazed out over the sloped lawn, his expression quieted. Casey looked over the front lawn, too, but watched him from the corner of her eye, waiting for him to make the next move. She surely wasn’t going to make it!

  “How ya doing?” he asked finally, concern rippling through his features in what Casey found to be a total letdown. He was just being nice. On account of her overdose.

  “Good.” She didn’t want to talk about it. Not with Troy and not with anyone. It only served to remind her what a failure she was—even when trying to kill herself.

  “I’m glad.” Troy leaned forward. Elbows to knees he took her in, his eyes searching hers as though the truth lay within them and she was withholding. “I’d hate it if anything happened to you, Casey.”

  Desire scattered in her chest. “You would?”

  He nodded. “Of course. We’ve been friends since we were two, haven’t we?”

  Friends. Casey nodded glumly. “Yeah. We have.”

  “Other than Travis and Felicity, there ain’t nobody that knows me better than you.”

  She inclined her head, considering the statement. Probably true. While the Parker boys didn’t hang out with her like they did Felicity, they still saw each other in school, after school, around town, parties like this one. Their families were friends.

  “And when friends have problems, they talk, don’t they?”

  “They do,” she said, suddenly aware he might be going somewhere with this line of conversation—somewhere halfway important.

  “I’ve been thinking...”

  Casey waited, but when he didn’t continue, she prodded, “Thinking about what?”

  “I might not go to college,” Troy said, holding her firmly in his gaze as though purposely trapping her so she couldn’t avoid him.


  But she had no interest in avoiding him. “Not go to college?” she asked, astounded by the revelation.

  Troy nodded. “I mean, what’s the point? I want to work with horses, not books or computers. Why do I need to go to college for that?” He dropped his gaze to the ground and kicked at a stray clump of dirt. “It’ll only waste my time.”

  “But Troy, you’re already signed up and accepted. You can’t just quit.”

  “Can’t I?” He turned, whipping the hair from his eyes. “Why not?”

  “Because,” she said, grasping for a reason, advice to give him that would dissuade him from dropping out.

  But she had none. Troy was the finest horseman she knew. He handled feisty stallions better than anyone she’d ever seen, could calm an angry mare, deliver a foal... Why, Casey didn’t think there was anything Troy couldn’t do with a horse.

  “If they had a horse college, I’d go. But they don’t.”

  “They don’t?”

  “They don’t. Not that I ever heard of, anyway.” He cast his gaze out over the front, a faraway look taking hold of him.

  “What do your parents think?” she asked, genuinely interested in hearing the answer.

  “Haven’t told them yet.”

  Casey understood completely. Morton and Betty Ann Parker had high expectations. From grades to behavior, their kids were expected to perform and expected to perform well. Casey always thought it a bit extreme. Not everyone could be perfect. “Are you afraid they’ll say no?”

  “Dad gum, Casey—I ain’t afraid of nothing of the sort,” he said heatedly.

  Casey believed otherwise, but kept it to herself. Troy was too proud to admit he was scared. No sense in riling him by pressing the point. “When do you plan to tell them?”

  He turned his gaze out over the field again. “Soon.”

  Soon. Did that mean days or weeks? As it stood, the boys were set to leave for college in another two months.

  Dark eyes flashed. “What do you think? Do you think it’s a good idea?”

  Self-doubt was not something she was accustomed to seeing in Troy Parker. He was usually so sure of himself, it was odd to see him hesitate. “What do you care what I think?” she murmured.

  “I value your opinion. Do you think I’m ruining my life?”

  The statement tugged at her heart. He valued her opinion. Troy cared what she thought. Casey shook her head defiantly. “No. I don’t think you’re ruining your life. I think you’re the best dang horseman around.”

  The compliment rallied a smile to his lips. “You do?”

  Sapped by a sudden case of nerves, she pulled her legs up and hugged them close. “I do. I really, really do.”

  The two sat quietly, the distant sounds of Ashley’s party music and rowdy crowd hanging in the background. While Casey wasn’t quite sure why Troy was sitting with her instead of Felicity, she wasn’t about to complain. She’d always wished he’d give her more than a friendly glance, but he and Travis were forever fighting over Felicity and it drove Casey nuts. What did Felicity have that was so special?

  Casey glanced askance and thought whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be having its normal effect. Today was different. Troy had shared his plans about college with her, not Felicity. Better yet, he cared what she thought about it. For Casey, it was a magical combination. Troy pulled out of his trance and from the corner of her eye, she could see him staring at her. Nerves fired in her breast, fluttered against her ribs. What was he thinking? Did he find her attractive? Casey made a steel band of her arms around her knees.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a sensitive question?” he asked.

  Startled by the tender quality to his voice, she turned. Looking into his eyes, the eyes of a friend, the eyes of a man she desperately liked, Casey hoped Troy wouldn’t ask about the drugs. It was a mistake. It was stupid. “What?” she replied, preferring he ask her if she liked him, and did she want to go out on a date?

  “Do you know your daddy’s in town?”

  Like a hen’s egg dropped to the cement, Casey’s hopes crashed.

  “Do you know him, Casey?” Troy begged the question, as though it were of vital importance to him. “Have you seen him?”

  She hugged her legs hard and shook her head.

  “Dad gum, hasn’t your momma ever told you?”

  “Told me what?” Casey demanded, suddenly angry. “That some man with the last name of Ladd is my father? That he lives in Atlanta and doesn’t give a whip about me?”

  Thunderclouds entered his gaze, his brown eyes a squall of emotion. The storm eased and he asked calmly, “If your daddy gets Ladd Springs from Delaney, you could get a piece of it, too, right?”

  Casey stared at him, barely able to comprehend what he was saying, so torn was she between her mother’s greedy ploy at getting title to Ladd Springs and the intensity in Troy’s features. He looked as if he had a horse in the ring, as if it were personal.

  “Would you want that?” he asked.

  “Want what—to be a part of the Ladd family? To be related to a woman who hates me, a cousin who—” Casey bit the words from her tongue. She didn’t even want to say Felicity’s name for it might steal Troy’s focus from her.

  Troy looked out over the yard, the cars, and didn’t say another word.

  Why did he care about her father, about Ladd Springs? What did it matter to Troy one way or the other? Why did her mother have to get pregnant by a man who didn’t love her? Sensing Troy was closing down, she wanted to scream, What do you want, Troy? Why do you care? Fighting back a wave of tears, Casey thought, Do you, Troy? Do you care about me?

  Chapter Ten

  Annie Owens sat alone at her dining room table. Her lunch was cold, her iced tea warm, her life was falling apart. In the blink of an eye, her best friendship had shattered before her very eyes. Candi had turned from confidant to traitor. How could she have slept with Jeremiah? Had she done so before Lacy? During?

  Humiliation slithered into Annie’s heart. How could the two women closest to her betray her that way? It was unconscionable. Unacceptable. And to think Candi called Jeremiah back home to fight for Ladd Springs. Why? To help her with her paternity suit Candi had said? Or did she want to see him again for her own gratification... Visions of Jeremiah leaning close to Candi at the salon soured Annie’s stomach. She didn’t look unhappy when Annie walked in. And if she hadn’t walked in on them, would Candi have confessed?

  Annie dumped her gaze to the plate of leftover barbecued pork. The sandwich that had been half-eaten during the picnic today remained so, because she was in no mood to eat. She was in no mood to plot and plan, to hash out or forgive. Annie was in no mood for anything. Jeremiah Ladd was in town, yet had barely said hello, barely acknowledged her presence. Casey deserved better. Her daughter deserved a man who cared about her, a man who cared enough to at least acknowledge her existence.

  But that man wasn’t Jeremiah Ladd. Annie’s heart ached at the thought. It was her fault. Pushing the plate of food aside, Annie slid her elbows forward and dropped her head to rest in her palms. Casey had a louse for a father because her mother had picked him. Maybe not picked him to be the father of her child, but when you slept with a man, that was a possibility. She knew the facts. She’d played the game. And lost.

  How could Annie ever make it up to her daughter? Casey’s father was here in the flesh, traipsing through town and the girl had no clue. Casey wouldn’t know Jeremiah if she saw him walking down the street. Years ago, when she had asked about him, Annie had told her the truth. Your father is Jeremiah Ladd. She had explained his absence with the lie of two adults not getting along, going their separate ways because it wasn’t meant to be. She had neglected to tell Casey that Jeremiah went his way with her Aunt Lacy. It was a fact that would only serve to add to her pain. And Casey was in pain. Her rebellious spouts stemmed from an attitude that went beyond teenage hormones. Casey blamed her mother for her father’s absence and Annie accepted it without recourse. To f
ight would only reveal the uglier side of the truth. Your father dumped your mother, ran off with your aunt and to this day refuses to claim you.

  Suddenly, the years felt like a crushing vise-grip around her heart. They squeezed the life from her. Like a boot to the head, they crushed her. Annie rued the day she’d ever taken up with Jeremiah. Why she had wanted him, she couldn’t remember anymore. Only that she had. For as long as she could remember, Annie had wanted Jeremiah Ladd but he’d been stuck at the hip to Delaney Wilkins.

  And scores of other women.

  The man was low, dirtier than a hog wallowing in the mud. But he hadn’t heard the last from her. Annie would fight for the property. She would fight him and Delaney, and whoever else got in her way. She might not have been able to give Casey a loving father, but she sure as heck could give her what that father wanted for himself. Ladd Springs. If Jeremiah could fight for his share of the property, then Annie could fight for Casey’s. Ernie Ladd would be caught in the middle, no doubt about it, but it was unavoidable. A quick sadness stabbed at her. The man was sick. Terminal. Living out his last days squabbling over land wasn’t the way Annie wanted him to go, but Ernie should have listened to her before he thought about signing over the property to Felicity. Casey was equally as entitled to inherit the land, but he wouldn’t listen. In fact, Ernie shut her down cold in the most offensive of ways.

  Thoughts of Ladd troubles brought to mind Annie’s own family woes. Daddy died of a heart attack when he was much too young, and her Momma moved out right after Lacy. Up and moved on without her daughter, Annie. She claimed Annie was a woman of age and it was high time she started taking care of herself. Didn’t matter that Annie didn’t want her mother to go, that she would have left right along with her had her momma extended the invite. But her mother’s intent had been clear. It was time to move on and start fresh. Tears pricked Annie’s eyes.