Kentucky Heat (22 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Kentucky Heat
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In spite of herself, Nealy laughed. “Just cross your fingers that I don't trip on the dance floor. I think we're going to have a sold-out crowd.”
“Sweetie, we were sold out ten minutes after Smitty sent out the invitations. Checks were hand-delivered within an hour of receipt of the invitation. Smitty clocked it all. She got a kick out of it. A hundred grand
each.
Nothing shabby about that. I can hardly wait. I wish you'd get more excited.” She stopped rocking and sat forward. “Listen, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I don't want you getting all pissed off at the eleventh hour and blowing it, Nealy. Dagmar had this wonderful idea, and her paper is going to go along with it. She wants to run a picture of you in the paper all
duded
out in your slinky, sparkly dress and those diamonds. And right next to it she wants to run that famous picture or should I say
infamous
picture of you crossing the finish line on Flyby. You know the one where you look like you're flying and are covered in mud.”
Nealy's knees started to buckle. “Oh, my God!”
“I think it's a great idea. It's going to make anyone who calls you a Derby-riding granny look like a fool. It's not going to hurt to have
your
picture taken with the vice president and the secretary of state either. Derby-riding granny, my ass,” Ruby exploded. “I bet the vice president asks you to dance. God, it doesn't get any better than that. It isn't going to hurt for Hatch to see you looking like that either. I bet you are going to have the time of your life.”
“Ruby. You make me sound like I'm on the auction block at Keeneland. I sure hope you're right,” Nealy said over the cannonball-sized lump that lodged in her throat.
“Oh, pooh, you just don't know how to have a good time. This is a good thing, Nealy. The ball is raising millions of dollars for your animal causes, women's shelters, children's charities, and hospices. Metaxas said that's the reason the vice prez is coming. He's big on children's causes and the elderly. It isn't going to hurt
him
to have his picture taken with
you
either.”
“Okay, okay. Time to get back to the barn. What are you doing up here at this time of day, Ruby? I thought you were going to sleep in for a change.”
“Came for some of Matilda's coffee, and she made brownies this morning. Metaxas wants some. Sugar high. It's that time of day. Did I thank you for letting us stay in the cottage?”
“You have thanked me five times a day for the last three years. The cottage was just sitting there empty, Ruby. I'm surprised, though, that you lasted as long as you did sleeping in the barn.”
“Two months was a long time.” Ruby giggled. “It was that old devil sex that turned the tables. Metaxas, sweetheart that he is, didn't want to have sex with the horses listening. Even now, sometimes, he gets up in the middle of the night and sleeps in one of the stalls after he checks on Shufly. One other thing, Nealy, a roll in the hay is not romantic.”
Nealy whooped with laughter. “That's pretty funny, Ruby.” She turned serious after a moment. “I envy you two,” she said. “You have the kind of romance Maud and Jess had, the kind I've always wanted.”
“Speaking of what you've always wanted, Hatch is falling in love with you,” Ruby said out of the blue. “I don't think he knows it yet, but this is going to be a momentous week for you both.”
Nealy felt her emotions start to flounder. Was she right? Ruby was a romantic and looked at everything through rose-colored glasses. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her hands in her pockets, she crossed her fingers that Ruby was right about Hatch falling in love with her. Suddenly she felt so happy and giddy she wanted to sing.
“Let's go check out the barbecue pit so I can drool. Hatch should be here soon if he's coming.”
“Speak of the devil,” Ruby said, pointing toward the farm entrance.
Nealy turned around to see Hatch's rental car pulling in the drive as a dizzying current raced through her. “You're late,” she shouted. “I was starting to worry.” He smiled, and she felt warm all over.
“I ran into one hell of a head wind,” he said, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. “I guess I should have called, huh?” Nealy nodded. “Sorry, I wasn't thinking.” He reached into the car for his duffel bag. “You know it just occurred to me that this may not be the best time for me to be here. It is Derby week. You can tell me to go, and it won't hurt my feelings.”
“If I didn't want you here, Hatch, I wouldn't have invited you. I just don't know how much time I'll be able to spend with you. I don't want to hear another word about leaving. Doesn't the barbecue smell wonderful?”
“It sure does. Wait here while I run my stuff up to the apartment. You sure it's okay for me to stay there? Are you sure you won't be having other guests?”
“I'm very sure, and no, there will be no other guests. It's clean as a whistle.” Nealy looked around. “Sometimes I think I should do more for the workers. I do this barbecue, then we do a big Thanksgiving dinner, and we have a Christmas party and give presents to the kids and give generous bonuses to the guys. We pay well, the guys have a good health plan, and we started a pension fund when Smitty suggested it. Back then I didn't know much about stuff like that. Do you think I'm doing enough? How much is enough to show them I appreciate their hard work and loyalty?”
“You're doing plenty. No one has left your employ for years, and they all seem happy.”
“I'm so relieved. I worry about stuff like that. Listen, I have to get down to the barn. You can help if you want. We do ninety-minute shifts so that everyone gets a chance to eat, have a drink or two, and dance. Right now it's my shift. I see you're dressed for work, so let's get to it.” She reached for his arm and smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this happy.
“Wait a minute,” Hatch said, pulling her toward him. “There's something I want to give you.”
“What?” she asked, looking up at him.
“This,” he said, kissing her.
“Hmmmm,” Nealy said, melting into his arms. “Hmmmm.”
“What does hmmmm mean?” Hatch grinned.
“Oh, that . . . well . . . I liked that. A lot. Would you mind doing it again?”
“Ma'am, I wouldn't mind at all,” Hatch chuckled, as he clamped his lips down on hers. He almost fell backward with Nealy's ardor.
“Lady, don't do this to me here in public. Can we pick up later where we're going to leave off right now?”
Nealy, her face pink, felt flustered beyond belief. Her head bobbed up and down. “Name the time and the place.”
“The apartment over the garage. When you get there. I'll be waiting.”
“I'll be there,” Nealy said.
Nealy's feet left the ground as Hatch picked her up and twirled her around.
 
 
Nealy's mind and emotions were on the stellar evening she'd spent with Hatch. It was everything she wanted, everything she expected. She knew now for certain that she was in love. She could still, if she concentrated, feel the tingle running through her body. No, that wasn't what she was feeling. She was
throbbing
with anticipation for it to happen again. She gave herself a mental shake as she started for the stallion barn.
Nealy looked down at the hands on her watch at the same moment all hell broke loose on Blue Diamond Farms. She could hear Smitty's screams, saw clouds of dust, and a caravan of eleven black cars. “What? What's going on?” she bellowed at the top of her lungs as men in dark suits, sunglasses, and handheld two-way radios invaded the barn.
“What's going on? Who the hell are you? Get your asses out of my barn and do it
now!
” Nealy ordered.
“Stand down, ma'am. That's an order!”
“Stand down! What does that mean, stand down? Who are you? You're upsetting my horses. I gave you an order, too. You aren't listening to me—get the hell out of my barn.”
The gun in his hand was gray and deadly looking. “Stand down means don't move.”
The hair on the back of Nealy's neck stood at attention. She grabbed her riding crop out of her back pocket and took a step forward. Behind her, she heard a horse whinny in fright. She glanced over her shoulder to see one of her grooms fighting to keep El Jefe, a million-dollar two-year-old colt, from rearing. Her fear turned to anger. Brandishing the riding crop she made for the man. “Whoever you are, don't take another step. You're scaring my horses.”
“Stand down, ma'am. We're Secret Service agents.”
“What? Your people were here all night securing the farm. How many men does it take to do that? Nothing's changed since last night. You need to be a little more quiet. This isn't good for the horses. There aren't any bombs in here; your people cleared it all early this morning. Where's the vice president?”
“There was a change in plans, ma'am. The vice president is in Washington. The secretary of state is sitting in his car along with the president until we give the all-clear signal. An hour at the most, ma'am.”
“
The
president of
the
United States!” Nealy said in awe, her jaw dropping. “The president of the United States is here, and he's actually sitting in my driveway. How'd that happen?”
“The vice president couldn't make it at the last moment. The president just happened to be free and agreed to stand in for him. The president and the first lady admire you, Ms. Clay.”
“Fancy that,” Nealy said, her eyes full of shock.
“We need to check these stalls, ma'am.”
“I wouldn't do that if I were you. These horses don't know you. They'll stomp you to death. I mean that.” Out of the corner of her eye, Nealy watched dark-clad men moving in all directions, gun in one hand, two-way radio in the other. They looked fierce and deadly. She felt herself grow light-headed.
Nealy's mind raced. “Wait a minute. President or no president, you get on that radio and call your men back here stat, which means on the double. Hear me?”
The agent's eyebrows shot upward. “I beg your pardon.”
“My horses are worth millions of dollars and no one goes near them without someone from my employ going along. You got that, Mr. Secret Service Agent?”
Hatch stood leaning against the paddock fence, chuckling, his eyes bright with amusement and admiration. His girl was giving them what for. He felt like shooting his fist in the air.
From the entrance to the breezeway, Metaxas and Ruby watched the proceedings, their jaws dropping when the agents bowed to Nealy's demands.
“We need to check these stalls,” the agent said again. His eyes looked wary, though.
“If you all clear the barn, we'll lead the horses out to the paddock. Make your search quick. Just for the record, Mr. Secret Service Agent, I did not invite the president here. Technically, that means you are all trespassing. What that means is nothing better happen to one of my horses. Now be quick about it.”
The agent jerked his head to show his fellow agents they should leave the barn.
“That means you, too. I'm not taking these horses out until you are all out of the barn.
You stand down, Mister.
”
 
 
An hour later the horses were back in their stalls, the workers agog at what was transpiring in front of their very eyes.
“You're free to go about your business now, ma'am. This might be a good time to welcome the president and perhaps serve some refreshments,” the steely eyed agent suggested.
Nealy looked down at her hands . . . hands that were covered with hay, and green horse saliva because she had just checked a mare's teeth. She rubbed her hands on her jeans and hoped for the best.
There was no such thing as walking up the path to the house alone. They were a parade—Nealy, Ruby, Metaxas, and Hatch flanked by a bevy of agents whose eyes were everywhere.
“We're good to go here,” the agent said quietly into his handheld radio with the flashing lights. “Escort the president and the secretary into the house. Send a detail into town to sweep the ballroom, and report back to me. The motorcade will leave here at six-fifteen. The police have been alerted. Make sure everyone is inside and seated when we arrive.”
Nealy looked down at her hands again. She rubbed them on her jeans. Again.
“Miz Clay, it's an honor to meet you,” the president said, loping toward her, agents at his side. “My wife sends her regards. She also wants to know if it's possible to get a picture of you, me, and the horse you're riding in the Derby next week. I hope you don't object too much to me taking the vice president's place.”

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