Kentucky Heat (27 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Kentucky Heat
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“I'm going to report this. You could be banned from racing for pulling something like this,” Metaxas bellowed.
“For what?” one of the four blustered. “We were just walking around, and she was sleeping under the tree. We were going to wake her up. In case you haven't noticed, it's raining. We were just being thoughtful and concerned about the old lady.”
“My ass you were going to wake me up. I was already awake. You were going to
do
something.”
“Prove it,” a second youth said. “You look okay to me. We didn't come anywhere near you. You probably had a bad dream and spooked yourself. Old people do things like that all the time.”
“Get the hell out of here,” Metaxas warned.
The bad moments were over. Nealy's eyes narrowed as she watched the little group scurry away. “I guess I was asleep, but Hunt warned me to get up. He said
now
like in right now, right this second to
run.
I was doing what he said, but they closed in on me. That's when I whistled for Shufly.”
She slid off Shufly's back. “Good boy,” she said, rubbing him behind the ears.
“Good boy is right,” Metaxas said. “You should have seen him. The big guy heard your whistle and went berserk. He did a real number on his stall door. God Almighty! I never saw anything like it.
“C'mon, baby, not these buttons, too,” Metaxas said. “I only have one more shirt left with buttons. Ruby, you need to buy a case of buttons. He doesn't even eat them, he spits them out. I think he just likes to see my manly, hairy chest.”
“You ready to go back, honey?” Ruby said, putting her arms around Nealy's shoulders. “Tell me what Hunt said,” she whispered.
“It was just a dream, Ruby. Maybe it was that unknown seventh sense that kicked in. I sat down, you know, just to think, to relive the last time I raced here. I guess I closed my eyes and dozed off. Every time I try to catch those forty winks Maud always used to talk about, I dream of Hunt. I was thinking about him when I sat down. He did the walkover with me the last time. Dover is doing it this year. It . . . it won't be the same. He said it was going to rain in about an hour. I already knew that because it was misting when I sat down. Jake's Thunder, according to Hunt, is going to be my big competition because he's as good on a sloppy track as Shufly. Of course it could stop raining, and the track could dry out. Unlikely but still a possibility. Then Hunt said to get up and run. That's when they came up to me. I think, if anything, it was going to be a verbal thing. They wouldn't risk anything physical that would keep them away from this racetrack. At least I don't think they would. Young people are different today. It's over, it's done with. Let's just go back to the barn and try to catch a few hours' sleep.”
“You're shaking, Nealy,” Ruby said, alarm in her voice.
“A little. Come on, we're getting soaked out here.”
The barn was quiet even though grooms and workers scurried about. Nealy looked in on Shufly, satisfied herself that he was none the worse for stomping down the gate to his stall, something she would hear about when it got light out. She shrugged.
“I'm all right, Ruby. A few hours' sleep and I'll be fine. I wonder if my brothers are here yet.”
“Metaxas said they arrived. They're with Hatch and the kids. They'll all be here by sunup.”
“Who's watching Gabby?”
“Emmie's old neighbor. Good thing, too, since it's raining. I was hoping for bright sunshine and a dry track.”
“Me, too, but Shufly will do just fine. You've seen him run in slop and glop. Doesn't change a thing where he's concerned. I'm going out to the truck and curl up for a while. I'll lock the doors. Relax, Ruby, it's okay. I hate that word
old.
I really do. I wanted to jam it down their throats. I will, too, tomorrow.”
“Attagirl,” Ruby said.
“See you in a few hours. Ruby, wait a minute.” Nealy reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “Dagmar Doolittle should be here bright and early with a copy of her paper. Give her this and tell her to bet it on Shufly. She can pay me back with her winnings. If the odds stay as high as they are, and I think they will, she can retire if we win. If I lose, tell her she doesn't owe me a thing.”
“Consider it done.”
Holding one of the horse blankets over her head, Nealy sprinted for the Ford Ranger. She was just too tired to go to the van, too tired to go back to the motel. She could just curl up and sleep stretched out across the front seat. She locked the door and curled into a ball, covering herself with the blanket. She was bone-tired, but she was wide-awake, her adrenaline pumping at an all-time high.
They had rattled her. Not with their words but in the way they surrounded her. She'd never experienced fear like that before. Would they have done something to her? She would probably never know.
“Hunt,” she whispered.
“I'm here, Nealy.”
“Thanks for the warning. Now I'm nervous. This isn't good, Hunt. I should have calmed down by now. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to get over this.”
“Find that inner core where you draw your strength from. Take long, deep breaths. You used to tell me to do that all the time. Practice what you preach, Nealy.”
“Dammit, Hunt, I was scared. I've never been scared like that before, not even when I lit out from SunStar with Emmie. On the other hand, I was young and dumb back then. Four against one. Not good odds.”
“You have good instincts, Nealy. They helped you. By the way, that's some horse you have there. You were kind of busy, so you probably didn't see the expressions on their faces when Shufly thundered to your defense. If I tell you they were scared witless, will you believe me?”
“Yes. I always believed you except there at the end. I don't want to talk about it. Let's talk about Nick. You must be very proud of him.”
“Proud doesn't begin to describe the way I feel. I bawled like a baby when I saw that bronze of Shufly.”
Nealy's mouth drew up in a smile. She rested her head on her arm and sighed. It had been a long day.
“When it's all over, Nealy, what are you going to do?”
“I think I'm going to see the world. It's time. I don't want to end up like Maud. I don't know, something happened to me this last year. I guess it's Hatch. He keeps telling me about the big, wide world and what I'm missing. I think he's right. So, with that thought in mind, I'm toying with the idea of letting Emmie run the farm. That's if she wants to take it over. Gabby will love growing up here.”
“See the world? No kidding.”
“Hard to believe, huh? It's Nealy time now.”
“Nealy, don't read the morning papers.”
“Okay, I won't read the morning papers. Hunt?”
“Yeah?”
“Ride with me.”
“You mean the actual race?”
“Yes. You're weightless, right? I don't know anything about that . . . that spirit stuff. You're here somewhere because you talk to me. I owe you, Hunt.”
“You don't owe me anything, but I accept. Go to sleep now, Nealy. I'll watch over you tomorrow; I'll be right there with you.”
“You always wanted to know what it felt like to cross the finish line and win the roses. Together we can do it. I would be honored, and so will Shufly if you agree. You'll do it, then?”
“I'll do it.”
“You won't spook Shufly, will you?”
“Nope. He won't even know I'm there.”
Nealy laughed and Hunt joined her.
“Sleep tight, Nealy. I'll see you at the gate.”
13
The sun was creeping over the horizon when Nealy woke with a start. Five-thirty. She hadn't slept this late in . . . She couldn't remember the last time.
The Day!
She lay still for a moment trying to decide if it was raining or not. Earlier, the rain pelting the top of the truck had lulled her into a sound sleep. The rain and Hunt. She propped herself up on her elbows to peer out the foggy windows. The rain had stopped but it was going to be a wet, miserable day. She thought about all the times she had raced Shufly on a muddy track. He'd always done well, better than she ever anticipated. His daddy, Flyby, wasn't half as good under the same conditions, even in his prime.
A knock sounded on the truck window. Nealy turned and opened the door. “Nick! What a nice way to wake up. You're here early. Is something wrong?”
Nick's arm reached out to help his mother. “Not a thing, Mom. I wanted to be here, to experience it. If you win today, I'm coming back for the Preakness and the Belmont. I don't know what good I'll be to you, but I want to be with you. Do you have the jitters? Are you okay?”
“If I was nervous, Nick, I wouldn't belong here. To answer your question, no, I'm not nervous. I'm not even anxious. Shufly can fly on a wet track. I have that cup of courage all jockeys need. Let's get some coffee, just me and you.” She closed and locked the door of the truck. “I'm so glad you and Emmie came, Nick. I prayed and wished for it, but I never really allowed myself to believe you would forgive me and come back.” She jammed the keys into the pocket of her jeans and then reached for Nick's arm.
“I love you, Mom. There's nothing to forgive. Coffee sounds good. I got all the papers. I saw that reporter, the one you like, the big Swedish lady. She said to tell you not to read the papers. Except for hers.”
“I know. I promised your dad I wouldn't . . . What I mean is, I had this dream and he said not to look at the papers this morning.”
Nick tilted his head back and looked down his nose at her. “You talk to him, don't you?”
Nealy looked everywhere but at him.
“It's okay to admit it, Mom. It always appears like it's a dream, but then it seems to be real. That's the way it is with me anyway. I think it's real, Mom. I really do. There were days when I wanted to quit, to bail out, and he always convinced me to hang on just a little longer. I told Hatch about it, and he said the same thing. I think Dad is watching over all of us. You aren't laughing at me, are you, Mom?”
Nealy bit down on her lip before she burst out laughing. “If I tell you something will you promise not to laugh at me? I don't want to see you raise your eyebrows or grimace. I need to hear you promise.”
“I promise. What? Come on, Mom, you can trust me. What is it?”
Nealy took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She hesitated another moment before she said, “Your dad is riding with me today. I asked him, and he said yes. Am I crazy, son?”
“God Almighty! No, no, you aren't crazy. He . . . Dad promised to sit in with me when I take the bar. If you're crazy, then so am I. Boy, I feel better already. There were days there when I thought I was starting to lose it. Overload. I know you're in good shape, Mom, but you're older than all those guys riding today. You know it and you are worried and nervous, so don't pretend with me.”
Nealy sighed. “All right. All right. In the past, I didn't give a tinker's damn about what people thought of me. Now that I'm older, I care in a cockamamie kind of way. It's the word
old.
Why do they go after me like this? What do the papers say, Nick? I don't want to read them, I just want to know what they say.”
“It's the same old garbage, Mom. You're too old, you're a grandmother, you inherited the farm, you stepped into the golden pile of dung. That kind of stuff. Your friend wrote a straightforward article. Great pictures, the whole front page is yours. The other stuff is tabloid fodder. There might even be some libel in there if we take a better look. Hatch is checking that out. You have to ignore it. For now. If it goes legal, that's when you pay attention.”
“Okay, Nick, I'll ignore it.” She linked her arm with her son's. “I need to get a quick shower and do a few things. It stopped raining, but it's still going to be a sloppy track. We can live with it,” she said happily.
“Hatch is worried about you, Mom,” Nick blurted.
Nealy stopped in her tracks. “Why on earth is he worried?” Her voice was full of surprise.
“Because he loves you, Mom, that's why. He didn't understand how dangerous racing is until Emmie clued him in. She meant well, but she did make it sound gory. He asked me, and I told him the truth. Do you love him, Mom?”
Nealy dug the heel of her boot into the soft soil until she had a hole that was deep enough to plant a sapling. There didn't seem to be any point in hiding her feelings. “Well . . . I . . . I have . . . feelings for him and I like him a lot but . . . the answer is, yes, I guess I do. Your father approves. At least in my dreams he approves.” Nealy smiled. “We'll see.”
“You and Dad always used to say that to me when I was little. ‘We'll see' wasn't a flat-out no, but it wasn't a confirmed yes either. I think the rain is over. What do you think, Mom?” Nick asked, looking up at the heavy gray clouds.
Nealy shook her head. “The air's too thick. More rain is coming and then the sun will come out around noon or so. I hope it's before post time. Oh-oh, I spoke too soon, here it comes. Listen, Nick, the coffee will have to wait. I'll see you later. I have some things to do right now.”
Nealy drove to the motel where Emmie, Nick, and Hatch were registered. She needed to take a hot shower to work the kinks out of her neck. She also needed to reassure Hatch about the race. Nick had said Hatch was in love with her. Did she love her husband's best friend? The answer was yes. Suddenly she felt like singing.
Her head down, Nealy ran through deep puddles toward the motel entrance. She was soaked to the skin when she heard a familiar voice, “Whoa, Nealy.”
“Hatch!” How joyous her voice sounded. She started to laugh right there in the pouring rain. His “Whoa, Nealy” had sounded a lot like, “Whoa, Nellie.”
“Yep, it's me.”
Nealy looked up at him through the rain. “Nick said you love me? Do you?”
It took Hatch a full twenty seconds to recover from his shock. “Nealy, I was going to . . . you know, take you out on the town after the race and tell you myself. I feel kind of silly standing here answering such a serious question.”
“Imagine how I felt when Nick told me that. Then he asked me if I loved you.”
“What did you say, Nealy?”
“I said yes I loved you. I do, Hatch. That's what I would say if you took me out on the town after the race.”
Rain sluiced downward. Oblivious to the elements, Hatch scooped her up and planted a solid kiss on her lips. “I say we save this for tonight after the race,” she whispered. “Are you of the same opinion, Mr. Littletree?”
“Yeah, yeah. Tonight.” He looked so befuddled, Nealy burst out laughing.
“I have to get moving, Hatch. I need to take a shower to work the kinks out of my neck. I slept in the truck last night,” she volunteered, her gaze locked with Hatch's.
“Nealy . . . about the race. I knew it was dangerous, but Emmie really filled me in. I don't suppose they'll call it off because of the weather, will they?”
“It will never happen, Hatch. I don't want you to worry about me. I'm a good rider, and I don't take stupid risks. Will you feel better if I tell you something?”
“It depends on what you tell me. No, no matter what you tell me, I'm going to be a basket case watching that race. What?”
“Hunt's riding with me.”
Hatch rolled his eyes. “Oh, well, that's different.”
He didn't believe her, but she had no intention of explaining. He would probably worry even more if she told him she had regular conversations with her dead husband. “Damn straight it's different. I have to run now. Bet the poke on me, okay?”
“The whole damn wad, Nealy. Damn, I do love you.”
“Damn, I love you, too.”
“See you in the winner's circle.”
“Yep, that's where I'll be.” Nealy laughed as she blew him a kiss before running off.
Hatch stood in the rain for a good five minutes mumbling over and over, “She loves me. She said she loves me. She really loves me. I heard her say she loves me. I knew I liked that kid for a reason.” Stunned at what had just transpired, he felt like a twenty-year-old as he made his way back to the motel room, where he changed his clothes from the skin out.
Fully dressed, he called room service and asked for a fresh pot of coffee and a package of cigarettes. When they arrived he tackled both with a vengeance as he sat down to contemplate how his life was changing before his very eyes. When his room turned cloudy with cigarette smoke, only then did he move. Outside, he was startled to see the rain had stopped and miracle of miracles, it looked like the sun was struggling to peek through the clouds.
His gaze swept the parking lot. Nealy's truck was gone. Once again his gaze raked the parking lot as he struggled to find the exact place where the two of them had been standing. It seemed to him, at that precise moment in time, that he should mark the spot somehow.
“Hatch! Wait up,” Emmie shouted from the second-floor balcony. “Is something wrong? What are you staring at so intently?” Hatch told her. Emmie clapped her hands in glee as she ran down the steps to wrap her arms around him. “Wait right here, I have just what you need.”
Hatch watched as Emmie ran to her car and popped the trunk. She rummaged for a few minutes before she returned with a small box in her hands. “Indelible markers for Gabby's clothes. They like things marked at the day care. Take your pick,” she said, offering the box of colored markers. “I forgot to tell you, they glow in the dark.” She giggled. Hatch burst out laughing. “I'd go with yellow.”
“Yellow will stand out at night,” Emmie said. “You know, glowing in the dark, if you decide to come back here tonight. You're rich enough to buy this place, Hatch. If you owned it, you could build a fence around the spot and preserve it forever and ever. I am so very happy for you both.”
Hatch laughed, a great booming belly laugh. “I just might take that under consideration, Emmie. I've done stranger things in my life. I'll see you and Smitty at the track.”
 
 
“It's almost time, Nealy.”
Nealy nodded. “I know, Dover. The last time I was here I was so euphoric I didn't know the announcer's name. That's not quite true. I knew it, but I couldn't remember it. I thought it so strange at the time and now I know his name as well as I know my own. Jim McKay.” She smiled. “He's saying the same things he said the last time I was here. Listen, Dover.”
“None of the horses running today have gone a mile and a quarter—and except for those going on to the Belmont—none of these horses will ever go the mile and a quarter again.
“When you handicap a race you usually look backward to see the best performance. Not so with the Derby—you have to anticipate who is going to run their best race today—for that reason Jake's Thunder, Navigator, and Sweet Pete still have their best shot yet to fire.
“Shufly, sired by Dancer's Flyby, a Triple Crown winner, is owned by Metaxas Parish and trained by Cornelia Diamond Clay. Ms. Clay will be in the saddle when he leaves the gate. Shufly is our mystery horse today with staggering odds. Ms. Clay will be the oldest jockey racing today. In fact, Ms. Clay is a grandmother.”
“He had to say that, didn't he?” Nealy snapped.
“They have to say stuff like that to make things interesting,” Dover said, pulling a face that made Nealy laugh.
“April Fool is not the favorite on this first Saturday in May, but he made it here. It will be interesting to see how his jockey handles him. He balks at the gate and has a rough exit.”
“Nealy, twenty minutes to post time. I'm glad those silks still fit you. Shufly looks stupendous. The big fella knows this is his day. Look at him, curious as all hell.”
“He knows, Dover. Trust me on that.”
Metaxas crushed her to him. “I'm going to wish you luck even if you don't need it,” he said. His gaze was intent and shiny bright. “I don't give a rat's ass about the win, Nealy. I just want you to get out there and let the big guy do the rest. Those creeps that keep harping on your age don't know you. I know you. Shufly knows you. That's all you have to remember.”
Nealy nodded. She opened her arms to Emmie and Smitty, resplendent in crisp linen and wide-brimmed hats. Nick gave her a thumbs-up as he, too, hugged her. Ruby stepped into her arms, and whispered, “Listen, Granny, you go out there and kick some ass and don't look back. You're ten times better than any of those upstarts. You can take that to the bank, too.”

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