Kentucky Heat (25 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Kentucky Heat
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In the kitchen, the chef looked at her watch. “I have an errand to run. You all have your assignments. Even if I'm late, you know what to do until I get back. How many times do I have to tell you, John, do not cut the ends off the string beans. If I have to tell you again, you'll regret it.”
Her heart beating trip-hammer fast, Willow removed her white chef 's coat, hung it on a hanger, and walked out the kitchen door, where she took great gasping breaths of fresh air. She walked around the building to the entrance, walked into the lobby and over to the registration desk. “Henry, I need some help here. I think there's a guest who might have just registered, a big man, sort of Indian-looking, high cheekbones. I think I know him. If I do, I'd like to surprise him at dinner with something special.”
“Oh, you must mean Mr. Littletree. He's a personal friend of Mr. Yokim. They're in the bar right now.”
“Yes, that's him. Don't let on I asked, okay?”
“Sure, Willow. No problem.”
No problem my ass,
Willow thought as she made her way across the lobby and out into the bright sunshine. She was going to miss this place. Hundreds of times, at the end of the day when all activity on the island paused for a few moments, she had taken the time to look over her balcony, to view the desert-type sunset when the sky was awash with fiery reds and yellows giving way to deep purple, which in turn became pastel pink glowing on the horizon, until the sun finally plunged into the water. Which just proved it didn't pay to get too comfortable, for you never know when it will come to an end.
She climbed into her open-air Jeep. She loved the nightlife here. Loved the surge of energy that rivered through the resorts. She loved to watch the people milling about, shopping, ducking into the funky bars, or sampling the local foods from the great restaurants. She would miss the rhythm that kicked in each and every time she hit the casinos with the live bands and the beat of the discos and nightclubs that were always jammed with dancers until the wee hours of the morning. Most of all, she would miss the divi-divi trees.
She thought about Jack Ryan. She wouldn't miss him at all. Time to move on. On the drive to the house she shared with Jack, she thought about Hatch Littletree, Nick Clay's idol. How had he found her? Well, she wasn't going to hang around long enough to find out. It would take her twenty minutes to pack her jewelry, throw some of her favorite things into a suitcase, clean out Jack's safe, and do a wire transfer out of the local bank to a bank on the mainland. Thirty minutes and she would be on her way to the airport, a far richer woman than when she arrived. Her only regret was this time she would be leaving her pots and pans behind. She had to hurry, or she would miss the last flight of the day.
This was the part of her life that she liked the best. Flight, with its adrenaline-pumping excitement.
12
For the first time in his life, Hatch Littletree was nervous. His shoulders felt heavy with the information he'd gleaned on his trip to Aruba. To compound the problem, when he returned from Aruba and called the office, he was told Nick and Emmie had left for Kentucky. Did Nealy know? Did they go to the farm, or were they just going to show up at Churchill Downs? He wished he knew. He hoped it wasn't the latter; Nealy didn't need any last-minute surprises. She needed to focus all her attention on the race. Now, after a bumpy flight to Kentucky, he was driving to Emmie's old house, hoping against hope that he was right and both young people would be there.
Maybe all this was none of his business. Maybe he needed to keep his snoot out of Nealy's and the kids' private lives. He argued with himself. How could he stay out of it when he loved Nealy? He'd come to love her children as well. Would seeing the kids bring anxiety to Nealy? Would it throw her off her stride and cause problems with the race? He choked up at the thought of her having an accident on the track. God, how he loved her. He wiped at the sweat forming on his forehead. This was not something he could control, and he knew it. Hell, he couldn't even control his emotions when he was around Nealy. All he wanted to do was sweep her up into his arms and carry her off.
How was he going to tell Nick about Willow?
Just pretend you're in the courtroom and you're stating facts,
an inner voice suggested.
No, no, that won't work. The kid has a heart.
He would have to soft-pedal the whole thing somehow. The kid might just decide to take a poke at him. He fingered his jaw, thought about all the pricey dental work he'd had done over the years.
I'll put some distance between us when I tell him,
he thought.
Hatch squared his shoulders as he ran his hand through his hair. It still rankled that Willow had disappeared before he'd had a chance to talk to her. He must be slipping. He'd give anything to know what had tipped her off. The way his luck was running, he'd probably never know.
Hatch parked in front of Emmie's house and made his way up the flower-bordered walkway to the small front porch and pressed his finger to the bell. Inside, Gabby's little dog Cookie yipped. Emmie opened the door, a huge smile on her face. “Hatch! Shhh,” she said, putting her finger to her lips. “Gabby's napping. What are you doing here? Is something wrong?
“Nick, come quick, Hatch is here!” she called over her shoulder in a controlled whisper.
“I'm not sure, Emmie. I need to talk to Nick.” Hatch bent down to pick up the little white dog to cover his nervousness.
“He's out on the patio studying the racing form. Go on out, and I'll bring you some coffee when it's ready.”
“What's up?” Nick jumped to his feet, his hand extended. “I heard you talking, but I didn't hear you answer Emmie's question. You said you weren't sure if something was wrong. What does that mean? Did something happen to Mom or the horses? What? What are you doing here?” His voice was so anxious-sounding, Hatch cringed.
“I've been coming to Kentucky a lot this past year. Your mother and I have become very good friends. Although, I have to admit, we got off to a rocky start. I wasn't sure in the beginning if I should tell you and Emmie about those visits. I didn't want to stir something up for both of you. I went the first time for Emmie's sake, to show Nealy pictures of Gabby. I could have mailed them I suppose. I wanted to see for myself, to understand, why she booted both of you off the farm. Your mother, as I found out, was nothing like what I expected her to be. I have to tell you, kid, no one was more surprised than I that we actually hit it off. Your mother and I both had preconceived notions about each other that proved to be unfounded. It's time for me to tell you a few things. Some things you might like, and other things you aren't going to like. It's time.”
Nick slouched down on a chaise longue. “You've been keeping Mom up to speed on me and Emmie. I'm okay with that, Hatch. Emmie will be okay with it, too. I guess I have to wonder why you didn't keep us up to speed on her.”
“You had enough on your plate, Nick. It's a little more involved than bringing the two of you up to speed. That day when your mother told you and Emmie to leave . . . she did that on purpose. She had a plan in her head. She was waiting for just the right time to . . . to put it into play. Smitty clued me in the first time I came here and swore me to secrecy. I never let on to your mother that I knew. I guess it's something she isn't comfortable talking about. Look, it doesn't matter why or how or any of that stuff. Your mother did what she felt she had to do. It was the only way she could get you both to stand on your own feet. Especially you, Nick, because she knew it was what your father had wanted. She's the first one to admit she didn't make the best choice. She knows now there were probably other, better ways. She seized the moment and ran with it. No one is perfect, Nick. She loves you both so much. She understands the farm isn't the right place for you. Just because she's tough and hard doesn't mean she has no feelings. She does. When she talks about you and Emmie, her face softens and her voice gentles. This is a new day, Nick. The past is prologue. Trust me when I tell you your mother's arms will be open wide.”
Nick was on his feet pacing, the racing form slapping at his leg. He nodded, relief written all over his face. “I thought about . . . driving by later this morning. They're going to erect the statue of Shufly this morning. My dad and the workers gave Mom the one of Flyby for her birthday a long time ago. I thought . . .”
Hatch grinned. “You are so much like your dad you spook me, boy. Your mother is going to bust with pride. I think she is about ready to step down from the saddle. She'll ride her three races, and then I've been hoping she will turn things over to Emmie. She wants to be Gabby's grandmother so bad she can taste it. I'm hoping, if things go right, that Nealy and I . . . can move forward. Become close. Hell, boy, I want to marry your mother. There, I said it out loud. I want to show her the world outside this farm. I don't know if she wants that or not, but I'm prepared to bust my gut trying to get her to see things my way.”
Nick rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I'll be damned. You and Mom. Yeah, yeah, I can see it! I really can. I'm okay with that, too. I'm really okay with it, Hatch. Just be sure you make her happy. Emmie will jump at the chance. She's going to be okay with the you and Mom thing, too. This is where she wants to be. Where she wants Gabby to grow up. There's more, though, isn't there?”
“Yeah. There's no easy way to say this except to just come out and say it. I found Willow. She was in Aruba cooking in a big resort. Somehow she found out I was there and put two and two together. In a matter of hours she was gone. This might explain things a little better,” Hatch said, handing Nick a thick, padded envelope that contained Willow's Aruba wedding album. “While you're looking at that, I'll just sit here. Your mother told Willow she was cutting off your trust fund. You have to deal with that, too.” Hatch placed a comforting hand on Nick's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Ten minutes later, Nick shoved the contents back into the padded envelope. Hatch noticed that his hands were shaking. He looked across the patio at Hatch, his eyes full of questions.
“You asked me to find her, kid, and I did. I used all the firm's resources. I know it wasn't what you wanted to see. I'm sorry as hell about that. It hurts like a son of a bitch when you get your heart broken. It hurts even more when you realize you were a fool and you
still
got your heart broken. My guess would be this, Nick. She latches on to rich men and takes them for what she can get and then she splits. She thought you were rich. She took off when your mother told her she was cutting you off. I know you aren't going to want to believe this either, but your mother saw right through her. My wife used to be able to do that. It's a woman thing, and us men need to pay more attention when they tell us stuff like that.
“Look, I can keep looking for her. Your mother hired all kinds of private dicks to search her out because she knew you loved her. She tried, Nick, she really did. Jesus, look how long it took me to get a bead on her. Then she gave me the slip.”
Nick stared off into the distance, the padded envelope still in his hand. “She must have had a good laugh over this dumb old horse handler. Christ, I poured my heart out to her, and she lapped it all up. I was just some dumb kid she had to teach how to make love.”
“Nick, don't do this to yourself. I'd bet the firm she goes from place to place, sets guys up, marries them, takes what she can get, and splits. You were one of the lucky ones. Real lucky. All you lost was a little piece of your heart.”
Nick nodded. “Emmie's calling you. I think I'd just like to sit here for a little while. I'm okay, Hatch. Don't worry about me.”
“Did you hear, Emmie?” Hatch asked, closing the kitchen door behind him.
Emmie's face wore a mixture of emotions. “Yes. The kitchen window is open. Is it really okay for us to go to the farm? I guess I should be more concerned about Willow and Nick, but I suspected something along those lines myself. I guess I am Mom's daughter after all. If you're sure she won't boot us off the farm, I'm going out there as soon as Gabby wakes up. She was exhausted with the flight and the excitement. She got up, ate, and went back to sleep. I'm so excited, so jittery I can't see straight. My stomach is in knots. It's going to be all right, isn't it, Hatch?”
“Yes, it's going to be all right,” Hatch said, watching Nick through the kitchen window.
“Poor Nick. Of all times for this to happen. No, no, I don't mean that the way it sounds. I just meant he's finished with school now and everything should be coming up roses as they say. We're home, Mom's racing, and now this. He looks . . . so stunned.”
“It's a kick to the gut, that's for sure. At this point, knowing what I know, I'm not even sure their marriage was legal. Yes, they went through a ceremony, but what if this is a pattern with her? If she was already married, then they aren't really married. It makes Willow a bigamist. The firm will intensify the search into her background. He'll be a little rocky for a while, but Nick is tough. I'm counting on that toughness to get him through this. Everything happens for a reason, Emmie.”
“I know but look at him. He looks . . .
whipped.

“Life goes on, Emmie. You moved forward after Buddy. Nick will, too, in his own good time. I'll take that coffee now.”
Emmie smiled, her eyes on her half brother Nick.
Twenty minutes later, Nick entered the kitchen. He handed the thick envelope to Hatch. His eyes miserable, his voice husky, he said, “If I'm married, I want to file for divorce. If I'm not married, I want to know that, too. Can the firm help, Hatch?”
“Absolutely. I'll call the office later and put the wheels in motion.”
“Good. I hear Gabby stirring. I'll get her ready, Emmie, and we can head out to the farm. What about Cookie?”
“Cookie is family. He goes where we go. You know how Mom loves dogs. Take your time, Nick. Hatch hasn't finished his coffee.”
Emmie turned to Hatch. “Are you and Mom . . . you know, seeing each other?”
“Seeing each other is a good way of putting it. We're very good friends. The truth is, I love your mother.”
Emmie smiled. “Mom needs someone. Everyone needs someone, and I hope that someone is you, Hatch. I hope someday I find that special person who will love me and Gabby both. Mom used to tell me when I was little that she would wish on a star at night and say a prayer that someone would find her and love us both. She said she knew it wouldn't happen, but she kept on wishing and praying. When Hunt came along I wasn't little anymore. You know, like Gabby.”
“Today is a new day, Emmie. For you, Gabby, and Nick. I have a good feeling about all of this. It's an old Indian thing,” he said, winking at her.
“That's good enough for me.” Emmie twinkled in return. “Oh, I'm going home. I'm really going home. We're
all
going home. Oh, Hatch,” Emmie said, throwing her arms around the big man, “I'm so happy I can hardly stand it.”

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