The Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Alice Ward

  We opted for the Great Balloon Race and I managed to snag a couple of seats for us on the Belle of Louisville as she raced for a win. We attended the Derby but stayed in the shade as the day had grown quite warm and the heat made Auggie nauseous. After the Derby, we visited the party that, despite having gone on all day, was still in full swing with a Dixie Land Jazz band and dancing on a raised floor beneath colored lamps and the moon as a spotlight. I held Auggie close to me and it felt good to feel her bare skin, still tanned from the Florida beaches.

  We met with Brandon, who had completed the paperwork and establishment of the foundation. It was now up to us how we wanted to organize it and what its purpose would be.

  Auggie and I sat down one evening after Ford had gone to bed to discuss our plans.

  “Worth, I really don’t want to live here on the estate any longer.” She was blunt.

  “Why, sweetheart?”

  “I can’t put my finger on it, but it seems we’ve had bad things happen to us while we’re here. It’s almost as if we weren’t intended to live here.”

  I nodded, fully open to suggestions. “Well, we have the condo here in town and the one in Florida. Do either of those sound better?”

  “Dad and your mother are already living down there. I think if we moved in full time, we’d probably be on top of one another and there wouldn’t be that much privacy. I think the winter months are fine, but I’d like somewhere here in Kentucky for the rest of the year. I want our next child to be raised here as we all were.”

  “I take it the condo in town won’t do the trick?”

  “It’s fine, but really not enough room. What would you say to this? What if we were to turn over the entire estate, track to house, to the foundation and allow Tyler Peterson to live here and be the director. I think he’s much better suited for that and quite frankly, with this next baby coming, I’m feeling a little selfish and want you to myself. Would that upset you too badly?”

  I gave it some thought. “No, I can understand that. So, where would you like to live?”

  “I’m thinking somewhere that neither of us have any connections to. A place that is brand new and would only have good, healthy memories. Do you still have Beverly Dexter’s number floating about?”

  “I’m sure I can find it. I don’t know if she could whip something together in time for the baby, though. I think that might be pushing it a bit much.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “We can stay at the condo in town until the house is ready. There’s enough room for the three of us. It’s just four might be a bit much, especially if Betsy is with us.”

  I nodded. “Do you want enough land for horses?” I asked and she threw me a look. “Of course, how stupid of me.”

  She said, “I was thinking of ground that’s a bit closer to the river. Maybe in Oldham County. They have the best schools in the state and there’s money there. I think Ford would do better if he socialized with kids of his own financial group. I drove over there one day and I was quite impressed. There’s not much in the way of shopping, naturally, but it’s close to downtown and then there’s the river nearby. I think I would like water for a change.”

  “Auggie, most of that land is already developed. At least the good, level ground.”

  “I found a place,” she began. “It was owned by the Binghams.” I recognized the family who had owned all the media in town for decades. “I thought we could buy it and tear down the house and build our own. What do you think?”

  “Let’s drive there tomorrow and you show me what you’re thinking.” She agreed and went out to the patio where Betsy was frying steaks on the grill.

  We sat on lounge chairs until long after dark, looking at the sky and imagining what it would be like to be able to fly. Ford joined us and although he was quiet, he did chuckle once in a while, particularly when we suggested he might have pink wings and look like a flamingo.

  “You wouldn’t like to be a flamingo?” I suggested to him in a mocking tone.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I want to be a hawk. I want to dive down and kill gophers and mice and small dogs,” he proclaimed as though this was an admirable point of view. I looked at Auggie and we exchanged worried looks.

  “Let’s go look at that property first thing tomorrow,” I suggested and she nodded in agreement.

  *

  The next day began with tremendous humidity. I had never been particularly fond of humidity myself and I knew Auggie must be extra uncomfortable. Nevertheless, we climbed into her convertible, put the top down and drove the back country roads of Oldham County toward the River. We found the Bingham place and there was a for sale sign out front. It appeared to be otherwise vacant. I called the agent’s number on the sign and she agreed to meet us there.

  The house was definitely past its prime and, therefore, was of no real purpose to us. It would be torn down and a brand new structure put in its place. There were also some horse barns, but none of these were state of the art, either. “Auggie, honey, I’m not sure what you want with this place. It would take forever to tear all this down and then we’d have to start all over. Wouldn’t you rather find some open ground and begin fresh? We’d never get this done in time for the birth and probably not for another year, at the earliest. I’m not even sure this area works. There are old houses all around us. I really don’t think this is for us.”

  Auggie pouted a bit but in the spirit of our new commitment to one another, she accepted my judgment and we passed.

  The next day, the same agent called and said she had another property she’d like us to look at. We followed her directions and found ourselves at the northern edge of Oldham County. There were more than a thousand acres and it was completely developed.

  “This was an Arabian horse complex,” she said as she showed us around. “The acreage is broken down into ten-acre plots and gentleman farmers would build a house on each for when they were in town. The central part of the development has new, state-of-the-art barns, breeding facilities, show ring, physical fitness including a pool for the horses. There’s also a hotel where out of town guests could come and stay while choosing to buy a horse or simply come to watch the business of Arabian breeding. There’s nothing like it in this part of the country. The closest would be the facilities in Arizona. It’s sat vacant for a few years — bad management. I was thinking that you could move into one of the farms — the houses really are quite nice — and build yourself a new home using the hotel as a foundation for it. You could have plenty of room for company for the people who work for you. You’re only two miles from the river to the east, you’re in the school system you want for your son and this is a small, quaint town where everyone knows everyone. They’d be quite impressed with you. Best of all, there’s a straight shot to downtown along highway 42 and another using I-71. If you go north, you can cross the Ohio at Madison and be on your way to Indianapolis. I-71 will take you straight to Cincinnati. I know, Dr. LaViere, that you have business interests in those communities so this would give you a very centralized location.”

  I was impressed by this agent; she’d done her homework. “What do you think, Auggie?” I asked and she wanted to check out some of the smaller farms.

  “Worth, this is perfect.” Her eyes sparkled in her excitement. “Remember how I said I liked the size of the condo? We can build a house here that fits our family. We don’t need a huge thing. There are several homes here that we could easily live in while we build. Dad and your mother could have one of the others. There’s one for Betsy and her sister, one for Bernie, and when Ford is old enough, one for him as well. There’s plenty of room to build outward on any of them. Then there’re the facilities for the horses. They’re gorgeous and are as nice, if not nicer than the ones I had built. I would really like this, Worth. And she’s right. You wouldn’t be but an hour or so from several of your clinics.”

  Auggie didn’t need to convince me. I could see the logic in her words and her plans
. I knew, most of all, that this made her heart sing and she would have the room to expand her dreams. She wasn’t cut out for downtown chic, even though she could certainly put on the swagger.

  “So how about the existing estate?” I asked.

  “Let’s do what we said. Let’s donate the whole thing and ask Tyler to be the director. You can stay on as CEO, but it will be a hobby for us; not a full-time job and certainly not a place where we need to live.”

  “I like it,” I agreed, pulling her to my chest. “Consider it done.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Auggie

  We moved into the condo in town for the summer and fall while Worth transferred the holdings of the estate to the foundation. There was a certain amount of relief I felt when it was all done. Dad and Margaret were coming north for a few weeks and I expected Dad to sell his place and take one of the farms at the Arabian development. We’d decided to call it Carlos Acres, for obvious reasons to anyone who knew me. Worth had already contracted with Beverly Dexter to build the house that fit us perfectly.

  Worth and I were scheduled to go to the obstetrician’s. It would be my first visit with an ultrasound and we’d decided we wanted to know the sex of our baby since we were building. At least that’s what we told ourselves. Actually, we were just eager to know.

  We walked into the clinic and were escorted right in to the room with ultrasound. The operator put cold jelly as contact points on my tummy and scooched around the mouse-like transmitter. When she was done, we were escorted to the doctor’s office.

  “You want to know the sex?” he asked and we nodded. “You’re having a little girl,” he said and I laughed, clapping my hands. “And you’re having a little boy,” he added and our mouths dropped open. “Twins?” He nodded and grinned. “Nothing to worry about. Both are in perfect condition and size for this point. We’ll monitor you closely. The only thing I can say is you might end up having a caesarian if they grow too large. In the meantime, take your vitamins, eat healthy, get plenty of rest and you might avoid relations for the time being. There’s no proof of that having any adverse effects, but it does wear down the mother and you’ll need to keep your strength up for the birth. See you next month!” he said cheerfully and left us in the room.

  Worth hugged me and kissed me deeply. “No relations, huh?” he frowned and I play slapped him. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to tide you over?”

  I nuzzled my nose into his chest and said nothing.

  “I wonder what Ford will think,” Worth said, kissing the top of my head. “Although it really doesn’t matter. It’s a done deal,” he said. “Well, c’mon, mama… let’s get you a big salad for lunch. Now you’re eating for three!”

  I telephoned the news to Dad and they were thrilled. Ford, not so much.

  “Why are you having twins?” he asked, as though there was some way to order them in pairs. “Why isn’t just one enough?”

  “Ford! Aren’t you happy? You’ll have a new brother and a sister. You can help me take care of them. We’ll teach them to ride and you can teach them to swim. Think of all the fun it will be!”

  “I don’t want them,” he said in a cold voice. “We don’t need them. The three of us are enough. Tell the doctor you want to give them away when they’re born.”

  Worth was across the room and heard this conversation. My mouth was opened in horror and Worth was scrambling to take it down a notch. “Now, Ford, don’t be silly. We will all be one family and you’ll be glad they’re here. You’ll love them and one day, you won’t even remember what it was like to not have them with us.”

  “I don’t want them!” Ford screamed and ran to his bedroom.

  I was quite shaken by this. Worth’s face deepened into a frown. He didn’t want to say aloud what we were both thinking. Finally, he sighed and said, “I’m going to have him talk to Tyler for a while. In fact, I think I’ll have him work weekends at the foundation, helping to build. He’s old enough now to learn to use a hammer. There are workmen there who will supervise. Don’t worry, Auggie, it’s just a stage.”

  I said a silent prayer that Worth was right. There was no going back at this point. Military school hadn’t worked and even home-schooling didn’t seem to be the right fit for him. I was holding out hope that the school in Oldham County, where he would be among kids like himself, would do the trick. It seemed ironic that the son of a psychologist would be having such problems, but there was no way you could overlook his genetic contribution.

  Dad and Margaret were in town, selling the farm. I asked Dad what he thought about it.

  “Well, Auggie, there’s always been something a bit different about Ford. I used to think it was because he was an only child and that if he had siblings, he would change. That sounds like it’s not such a good idea after all. He’s spoiled, just as you were spoiled, but then you had core values that carried you through. I think Worth is right. I think it would be good for him to work at the Foundation for a while. Let him see the kids who aren’t as lucky as he is and let him learn to use his hands. Nothing will take the fight out of you faster than a hard day’s labor.”

  I had to trust that Worth and Dad knew what they were talking about. The twins were growing daily and I was beginning to feel their weight dragging against my back. I had to sit down more often and had started taking naps every afternoon. My ankles were swelling and the doctor cut down my salt intake and told me to walk more. That was exactly the hardest thing to do.

  I passed the time by driving out to Carlos Acres to check on the progress of the building. I was under orders not to walk around the construction site as I was becoming ungainly with my misshapen body. Beverly would come out and talk to me, pointing out different features and bringing me pictures of the interior on her iPad. It was a virtual tour of my new life and I couldn’t help but want to be more involved.

  Dad’s farm sold quickly and they picked out a farm they wanted at Carlos Acres before heading back to Florida. Dad assured me that as my due date came closer, they would be up and on hand. I waved goodbye to them at the airport and wished they would stay longer. I had a bad feeling that something was going to happen, but had no idea what it would be.

  Worth was extremely busy. He not only had the estate with the foundation to deal with, the new building to supervise and my health to watch over, he still had his clinics. There were now over fifty of them and they’d grown out of his ability to supervise. He put out the word and a buyer approached him. Worth negotiated to sell all but the original clinic in Louisville and the sale went without a hitch. Personally, I was glad he did it. He’d proven himself, the clinics would still carry his name and his brand and now he would have more time for me and our children. I wanted him to spend more time overseeing Ford’s home schooling.

  My due date was rapidly approaching. I had given up travelling and spent most of the time in bed with my feet elevated. Worth was no longer leaving town, staying in Louisville in case I needed him.

  My water broke on a Friday afternoon. Worth wasn’t taking any chances and called for an ambulance. He called Dad and put Ford in Betsy’s capable hands.

  I was in labor for ten hours and it looked as though a Cesarean was imminent but then one of the babies moved and that seemed to clear the canal. Marga and Mark LaViere were born just before midnight and each weighed an identical six pounds. They were healthy and squalling, and I was intensely relieved it was all over.

  Worth brought Ford to the hospital to see them through the nursery window. Worth didn’t tell me until later that Ford spat on the window and walked away. Worth caught up to him and spoke to him sternly. Ford ignored him.

  I told Dad and Margaret not to bother making the trip. They had just gotten back to Florida and as soon as it was safe for the babies to travel, we would all come down and stay at the condo for the winter. Worth would fly back and forth so he could continue to oversee construction as needed.

  I had agreed this once to let Worth design the house’s int
erior and choose the furnishings. I figured I’d had several shots at it and it was only fair to let him have some input for once. I told myself, I could always change it later.

  I didn’t nurse the twins; they were too robust and it wore me down. Worth hired nurses to handle the feedings and their care. It felt so good to be able to sleep again, most especially on my tummy. At six weeks, the doctor gave the green light and we hired a private jet and left for Florida. Ford sat in the tail of the plane, staring out the window the entire time.

  When we arrive, there was a great to-do about the babies, which only threw Ford into a darker mood. He refused to hug Margaret or Dad and quickly went to his room and slammed the door. I looked at Worth, who simply shook his head.

  I spent a great deal of time walking on the beach. I needed the relaxation and the sunshine to recover. Having the babies had been harder than I’d imagined it would be. Perhaps it was Ford who was truly wearing me down, with worry as well as constant arguments. I didn’t know where my happy, loving son had gone. In his place was a brooding, angry young teen. No matter what I said, he argued and actually threw fits to get his way.

  I expressed my concerns to Worth and he took Ford to a variety of psychologists and even a psychiatrist. The last put Ford on a mood stabilizing drug, which had the opposite effect. Ford grew violent and Worth had to actually have him restrained until he calmed down. We constantly feared for the safety of the babies because Ford seemed so intent on harming them.

  We put inside locks on the condo doors, but it didn’t matter. Ford figured out how to open them and took off long before anyone was up in the morning. We were getting phone calls from the police. They had picked him up for vandalism, emptying garbage receptacles along the beach and finally, for shoplifting. He had stolen a candy bar from a small grocery and the owner was threatening to press charges.