Sister's Choice (13 page)

“I’m not afraid of horses,” Hannah said.

“Caution’s a good thing, though, wouldn’t you say? They’re definitely larger than you are.”

“You can hold my hand tighter if you need to.”

Once they walked in through the wide entrance that bisected the stable, Jamie stopped for a moment, gently hauling Hannah up beside her to wait until her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.

“Do you ride?” Cash asked.

“I had lessons as a child. My mother went through a Princess Diana period. She was briefly determined I should join the British royal family so she could attend all the best parties. I took deportment lessons, too. Riding went better.”

“I don’t know whether you’re kidding.”

“Sadly, I’m not.” She joined him, shushing Alison and reminding her that Cash had explained she would need to keep her voice down.

There were twelve stalls, six on each side, but one side was completely empty. The other held three horses.

Cash walked to the first occupied stall. “This is Sanction’s Folly. My first mistake. He’s the gentlest of the three.”

Sanction’s Folly was a huge bay, his coat a reddish brown with the traditional black mane and tail. He thrust his head over the stall door and waited for Cash to rub his forehead.

“I’ve always loved horse racing.” Cash stroked the horse’s head, then moved up to his ears as he spoke. “Not the gambling, I’m glad to say, but the horses. So after college I took off for Kentucky and got a job at one of the big racing stables in Lexington. Sanction’s one of the first horses I had the opportunity to work with. Then some years passed, and Sanction’s best season at the track passed, too. He wasn’t winning big enough or fast enough, and he wasn’t accomplished enough to be bred. He also had a reputation as a handful, and nobody wanted anything to do with him.”

He glanced at Jamie. “Let’s just say that by the time the word got to me, his options weren’t good.”

She knew he was protecting the girls from the sad fact that many former racehorses ended up at the slaughterhouse. “I understand.”

“I was his best chance. So I bought him for what he would have brought on the hoof and set about retraining him to be a horse, not a racehorse. Then I was going to sell him to some lucky family who knew their way around and could handle him. Only it took longer than I expected. There was a lot I didn’t know. And by the time he improved enough, I couldn’t seem to part with him.”

She was touched. “Who could blame you? He’s a sweetheart.”

“Now, yes.” He swung Alison around so she was resting on his hip, and he explained how to pat Sanction’s muzzle. Alison was thrilled, and not one bit afraid.

“Hannah…” He set Alison down, holding her hand out to Jamie, and then let Hannah have her turn, lifting her so she could more easily reach the Thoroughbred.

“The other two can’t be petted yet,” he warned the girls. “They’re new here. And I’m just starting to work with them.”

“Same kind of stories?” Jamie asked.

“Czar Bright, that’s the chestnut, sustained an injury, a bowed tendon. I’ve been nursing him through it for about four months. He’s doing better than expected. It’s nearly healed. Pretty soon I’ll be able to pasture him. Then we’ll see an amazing change in his personality. There’s a good horse in there, just waiting for his chance, and he’ll make a good ride for an experienced horseman someday. In the meantime, we’ll stay back from his stall. He’s probably never seen a child up close.”

“He’s a beauty.”

“Let me show you the mare.”

With Cash carrying Hannah—who didn’t protest—they walked toward the last horse, a light bay with a golden-beige coat and dark stockings to match her mane. “This is Lady’s Choice and the reason I was back in Kentucky a couple of weeks ago. Isn’t she a beaut?”

“She is that.” Lady’s Choice was slender, with a long neck and proud head, and her coat gleamed. “Why is she here?”

“She had a good career on the track, then they retired her to be a broodmare, but she has problems now that prohibit her from breeding again. She’s been shunted around ever since, no training at all, no patience from anybody who’s worked with her. It’s nearly ruined her. But when I’m done, she’ll be as gentle as a lamb. I’m thinking about training her as a therapy horse. If she works out the way I think she will, she can be a mount for children. I know some people that work in a good program, and they’re interested in her, if I can just get her in shape. Right now she’s just resting, getting used to the surroundings. Then we’ll see.”

“I’m so impressed.”

He turned to look at her. “Of course, that’s why I brought you here. To show you what a great guy I am.”

“No, you brought me here because this is your real love, and like most of us, that’s what you really enjoy talking about. It’s got to be a big venture. Life here’s a lot different than life on the track, I’m sure.”

“You wouldn’t believe how tough the transition is, and how much they have to learn. They aren’t used to flies or socializing with other horses, or even something as simple as getting their own food and water and not having it served up to them. People think all you have to do to one of these retirees is throw them out in a pasture with some friends for company and make sure food and water’s available, and they’ll adjust. Not so.”

“So they have to learn the basics.”

“They’re fed differently on the track, ridden differently. Most racehorses are only what we call green broke, which means they more or less just accept the saddle, bridle and rider, but aren’t all that excited about it. They have to be trained to see differently, which is why I have that round pen out there and not the usual oval riding ring. They have to learn not take off the moment they feel a rider on their backs. Sometimes it takes months for the hormones and other drugs they’ve been fed to wear out of their systems.”

He turned and smiled. “But don’t get me started.”

“How much time do you spend here with them?”

“I have a good guy who helps and fills in when I’m away. But I spend a couple of hours a day, at the least. Three horses has to be my limit. I probably should have stopped at two, but Lady was too much of a temptation.”

“Do you ride Sanction now? For pleasure? It sounds like he’s all yours.”

“Every chance I can. Raoul, my helper, rides him, too, to make sure he gets enough exercise. He’s
my
therapy horse.”

She felt as if she’d been given a peek into his heart. “Do you ever want to go back to turning Thoroughbreds into racehorses? Or are you content now to turn racehorses back into Thoroughbreds?”

“Content seems to perpetually elude me. I’m never real sure where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing next week.” He set Hannah down. “Girls, if you go out that way, you might be lucky enough to see a new family of kittens. The mama moved in from who knows where and had them under the shed out to the side a couple of weeks ago. Stay back, but if you crouch down on the ground a few feet away, you might get a peek without upsetting her.”

“Remember, walk slowly and be quiet,” Jamie said, holding the girls back until she was finished cautioning them.

They took off, but to their credit, managed to keep their pace to a fast walk.

“They’re good kids,” Cash said.

“We aren’t taking a kitten.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“No, but
they’ll
be asking. You and I need a united front.”

“They’re cute as the dickens. The mother was a scraggly mess until Granny Grace started feeding her.”

“Not just Granny Grace, I bet.”

He didn’t deny it. “We’ll get her spayed once the kittens are weaned. We could use a good barn cat out here. My wife—” He stopped abruptly and didn’t go on.

When he didn’t continue, she touched his arm. “Grace told me you were married. You’ve been divorced a while?”

“Kary died not quite two years after the wedding.” He didn’t look at her. “It was a long time ago. We met in college, got married before we graduated. She was gone before she could ever use her education. We were Cash and Kary, although everyone had always called her Karen until she met me. How’s that for young and foolish?”

“I’m sorry, Cash.”

“Yeah, me, too. But she’s been gone for years.”

“She loved cats?”

“Had a pair of Siamese purebreds. They were spoiled beyond belief. They went to her mother after Kary died and I left for Kentucky, but Siamese darlings or not, she would have taken in that mama cat out there and made sure those kittens got good homes.”

“And so will you, I bet. Used-up racehorses and homeless kittens. Not to mention a fawn named Lucky. There’s a connection.”

“Yeah, there’s a theme going on here.” For the briefest moment he rested the back of his hand against her abdomen. “The pair of us. What did that old commercial say? We bring good things to life?”

He was bringing
her
to life. She could feel blood rushing from every part of her body to the place where he had so gently laid his hand. She was sorry when he lifted it.

“We’d better go check on the girls,” she said. “Or Alison will be running in here to tell us what she saw, and she’ll scare your horses to death.”

“I might have overplayed that a bit, but better safe than sorry. A racehorse in rebellion’s not a pretty sight.”

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

“My pleasure.” He paused. “Thanks for listening.”

“That was
my
pleasure.” She wanted to say more but knew he wouldn’t appreciate it and settled for reaching for his hand instead, giving it a quick squeeze. “Five’ll get you ten that Hannah’s already named the kittens.”

“I wouldn’t take that one even if I was a betting man.” He draped his arm over her shoulders, and they walked out that way together.

J
amie saw Grace standing on the porch, waiting for her to trudge up the steps. It was Wednesday, just four days since she and the girls had come with Cash to eat baked ham, spoon bread and an array of fresh vegetables from Grace’s little kitchen garden. This morning Cissy Claiborne had invited both Alison and Hannah to spend part of the day with Reese in a plastic wading pool, beating a harsh August heat wave, and Jamie had quickly agreed. Time by herself was precious, and she’d had almost none since moving to the cabin.

But no sooner had she dropped the girls off at the old farmhouse where Cissy, her husband, Zeke, and Reese lived, than she abandoned her plans to spend the morning with her feet up and headed to Cashel Orchard instead. She still hadn’t told Grace she was pregnant, and now, without the girls to eavesdrop, she thought she’d take the opportunity.

And while she was here, coming clean about her personal life, she hoped Grace would tell her a bit more about Cash’s, as well.

At the sound of her van, Grace had come out to the porch. Since she hadn’t called ahead, Jamie was relieved that Grace appeared pleased.

“I’m sorry I came without checking,” Jamie called. “But you’re not programmed into my cell phone. I’ll come another time if this is a problem.”

“You’re always welcome. When I was a young woman nobody ever called ahead, so every moment had potential for a surprise. I liked that. Made me keep the house a great deal cleaner. Not an easy feat with three children and orchard chores.”

Jamie joined her, fanning herself with an open hand. “I don’t know how you managed.”

“Where are the girls?”

“They’re playing at a friend’s house. She doesn’t live far away, which is nice for all of us. Just farther down on Fitch Crossing. Cissy Claiborne’s the mom, maybe you know the family?”

“Oh, I know the Claiborne house. I went to school with one of the Claibornes, although not one of their most law-abiding members.”

“Actually, I think Cissy and her family live with a neighbor.” Jamie tried to remember the name of the woman she’d met briefly when she dropped off the girls. “Helen Henry? Old white farmhouse? I think Cissy said her husband’s family owns the next farm down.”

“Oh, my. Yes, Helen Henry. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Helen. We were girls together.”

“Friends?”

“Not by a long shot.” Grace smiled, but she also changed the subject. “It’s good you’re getting a bit of a holiday. I’ve never met more engaging children, but I’m sure a little breathing space appeals to you.”

“Two can be a handful.”

“More than two before long, I think.”

Jamie felt her shoulders sag. “Cash already talked to you.”

“No, dear. No one has to say a thing. I know a pregnant woman when I see one. There’s a certain glow, a certain blooming of the complexion, that has nothing to do with temperatures close to a hundred. A certain refusal to drink a glass of wine or a cup of coffee, too. And usually a snap undone at the waist and a zipper inched down. I’m tired of waiting for you to tell me, so I’ll just take that bull by the horns.”

“That was the big reason I came up today. To explain how it happened.”

Grace had a bubbling chuckle of a laugh, and now it lightened the oppressively hot air. “If you had to explain how it happened, I would be a sorry excuse for a grandmother.”

“Well, believe it or not, this didn’t happen the usual way.”

“Come in, come in. I’m intrigued. Does this mean an even Newer Testament? A miraculous birth in the twenty-first century?” Grace opened the door and ushered Jamie inside. “I would worry it was something too hard to talk about, but you don’t seem upset.”

Jamie stepped in and whistled in relief. “Wow, the air-conditioning feels great.”

“That unit is as old as Cash. I could swear Ben had it installed when he was born so Sandra would bring him up here to see us in the summer. I wait for it to breathe its last, but while it’s still working, I’m making good use of it. Come in the kitchen and have some lemonade.”

Jamie followed her, admiring Grace’s quilts again as they went. “How’s Lucky?”

“Happy in the pen Cash made for her outside, and growing like a weed. We’ll go and see her later, if you’d like. Three mornings ago I looked out the window and saw two does not far beyond it. I don’t know what they thought of each other, but that’ll be her new family, I think, when it’s time for her to be released.”

In the kitchen, Jamie flopped in a chair while Grace filled glasses with ice and lemonade. She added sprigs of mint and brought them to the table, along with a platter of cinnamon rolls, plates and napkins.

“I don’t know why I even turned on the oven for these. I could have put them in the sun and let Mother Nature bake them.” Grace sprawled in her chair and nudged the platter in Jamie’s direction. “Eat. You’re eating for two.”

“Three.” Out of habit, Jamie cut one of the rolls in half and lifted it to a plate. Then, shrugging, she took the other.

“You’re pregnant with
twins?
Oh, my dear. Do they run in your family?”

“No, but they do run in the laboratory. In vitro fertilization is such an inexact science that when you opt for it, the doctors want to give you every opportunity to get pregnant. So we opted to try for two, hoping for at least one. More gets iffy.” She looked up and silently enjoyed the expression on Grace’s face. “Three or more create problems if they all make themselves at home in the womb. Triple pregnancies are harder on everybody, and not as safe for the babies. I don’t think my sister and her husband were ready for three babies at once, either.”

“They’re your sister’s children?”

“In every way.” Jamie gave a short rundown of the situation. “And that’s why I haven’t been forthcoming about it. At first I just wanted to be sure everything was a go. Then I wasn’t sure how to explain. I’m absolutely thrilled to be doing this, but not everybody’s going to understand. And I guess I’m not ready to face criticism.”

“I hope you didn’t think I would be critical.”

“Oh, no, but it’s still hard to explain, especially with the girls around. Cash knows. But I guess the cat’s about to leap out of that bag. I just bought larger jeans. I’ll show a lot quicker with two than I did with one.”

Grace reached over and put a second cinnamon roll on Jamie’s plate. “Eat up. You’re going to need it. And not eating won’t keep you thin.”

“My appetite was flagging for a while, but everything’s settled down. Now the heat makes it hard to eat, but I’m still gaining steadily.”

“You know, I’m just stunned.” Grace sat back and watched Jamie eat. “You’re a levelheaded young woman and a compassionate sister. You must have considered your part in this carefully.”

“I needed to do it.”

“That’s a strong statement.”

“Have you ever been presented with a choice so clear you knew you had to go forward? This was one of those. Kendra and Isaac would never hire a surrogate. I don’t think that idea ever crossed their minds. I wasn’t even sure they would agree to let me do it. They had to think it over and discuss it endlessly.”

“Of course they did.”

Jamie looked up from her rapidly disappearing roll. “When all was said and done, I knew I was their only chance to be parents. And I owe Kendra everything.”

“Why do you think so?”

Jamie couldn’t seem to stop talking. “She more or less raised me, and gave up her own childhood to do it. Then I took off when I was seventeen and didn’t see her for years. I was putting my life together after some serious false starts, and I was afraid if I sought her out, she’d try to put it back together for me. By then I knew it had to be up to me and nobody else. Sink or swim with no life preserver.”

Grace was silent for a moment; then she nodded. “Because she’s your
sister
, not your mother.”

Jamie was grateful Grace understood. “That’s the biggest part of it. I needed to get my life to a place where we could be equals, where we wouldn’t fall back into a situation that was never right or wise to begin with.”

“But you feel guilty about it.”

Jamie smiled. “You’re good at this.”

“I’m not sure it’s a natural talent. I learned to be over the years.”

“Kendra was hurt and worried all those years. When I finally felt ready for a reunion, she wasn’t sure she could trust me. Now I can give her the thing she wants most.”

“And in the process prove yourself?”

“I hope so. And forgive myself for hurting her.”

“The things we do—and don’t do—for love.” Grace reached for her glass and it tipped over, spilling ice cubes but little lemonade on the table.

Jamie grabbed napkins out of the holder in the center and mopped up what had spilled.

“I’m always clumsy when I’m thinking,” Grace said. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Thank you for listening.” Jamie rested her hand on Grace’s for a moment. “But since you brought up the things we do for love…When he was showing me his horses on Saturday, Cash told me about Kary.”

“Two for the price of one. He doesn’t show the horses to just anybody, and he never talks about Kary. For that matter, he never brings anybody here for dinner, so that makes three.”

Before romantic notions got too entrenched, Jamie had to issue a warning. “Surely you can see I’m no bargain. Cash and I are becoming friends. But I’m more or less off the market these days, wouldn’t you say?”

“You young people do have a way of saying things.”

“It must have been terrible to lose somebody he loved so young.”

“They
were
young. Married in college, as he probably told you. Neither of them knew it, of course, but Karen was already living on borrowed time. She had a rare disease, something like multiple sclerosis, only this one takes you quickly. They had two years together, but Karen was very ill for most of them. He stayed by her side, but once she was gone, he was a changed man, our Cash. He doesn’t trust the universe anymore. If something like that can happen once, that’s all he needs to know.”

Jamie didn’t know what to say or whom to feel sorrier for. Cash, who had watched his young wife slip away, or Karen herself.

“You had to know,” Grace said. “It’ll help you understand him.”

“What was she like?”

“Funny, pretty, smart. She hailed from Radford, farther south of here. She wanted to be a teacher. I don’t remember now of what. We were just getting to know her when she got sick, and then everything became about that. I think that was the hardest part for her, that in the end, she was a patient, not a person. Cash tried his best to keep that from happening, and if it hadn’t been for him, those last months would have been terrible. But he wouldn’t let her family or the doctors prolong the inevitable. He made sure Karen had the last word. He listened to her when nobody else would and let her die as peacefully as he knew how. But that took its toll, as well.”

Jamie felt tears sting her eyes. Her voice was husky. “He should be proud.”

“Pride disappears in the face of hardship, Jamie. I can tell you that from experience. But we can’t keep this up. This is all too sad for a hot summer day. I have something a lot more cheerful to show you.”

Jamie got to her feet when Grace did. She needed something to erase the picture of Cash’s all-too-short marriage. “Something to do with Lucky?”

“Nothing so hot as going outside. No, I want you to see my sewing room.”

“Wonderful. Do you have a quilt in progress?”

“Yes, indeed. That’s a question you never have to ask a quilter. There are quilts in our heads, quilts in the way we pile fabric on our shelves, quilts on our design walls, under the needles on our sewing machines. Quilts waiting to be bound. Always quilts. Some of us will die planning the next one. We won’t even notice that final breath.”

They were wending their way through the house now, heading up the stairs. Grace turned right and went to the end of the hallway, then into the last room. It was large and airy, with cross ventilation and good light. One entire wall was crisscrossed by built-in shelves and cubbyholes filled with rolled-up fabric and what looked to Jamie like quilt batting. Pegboard covered another wall, with lots of things Jamie recognized, such as scissors and rulers, and many more she didn’t, hanging from hooks.

“Oh, no wonder you do this.” Jamie was entranced. Grace was clearly in the process of cutting fabric for another quilt. A high table was covered by a large rectangle in a bold floral print. Jamie lifted one edge and counted eight different colors in the nearest flower, a bloom that
had
never and
would
never appear in nature.

“Do you like to work with your hands?” Grace asked.

“I haven’t had much time to. Of course I draw passably.”

“Cash showed me your plans for your sister’s house, and I’ve seen the cabin. You’re very talented, and you have a good eye and imagination. Have you thought about making quilts for the babies?”

Jamie continued to look at the fabric on the table, running her fingers along the edge of one piece. “Isn’t that a little like laying claim to them?”

“I can see you’re being careful, and that’s commendable. But you
are
their aunt, correct? As well as their bed-and-breakfast for the next few months?”

“Yes to both.”

“Then you have a perfect right, and won’t they treasure the quilts in later years, knowing their life story, as they will? I know just the pattern for you, dear. Do you know anything about quilts?”

“My sister collects them. She has some lovely old ones, mostly signature quilts.”

“There’s a pattern, an old traditional pattern, called Sister’s Choice. Doesn’t that seem appropriate for your situation? And it makes lovely baby quilts. Lovely large quilts, as well. Depending on how many colors you use and how you place them, you get completely different effects, which is one of the beauties of the pattern. You could do two quilts, using different fabrics and colors, and the novice won’t even realize they’re the same blocks.”

“I’ve done a little sewing. But very little.”

“Good, then you don’t have much to unlearn, do you?”

“I don’t have a machine, or much room.” Jamie paused, because it sounded as if she was trying to wiggle out of making the quilts, and the idea was already growing on her.