Heat Wave (Riders Up)

by Adriana Kraft

  “You can trust them?”

  “I’m wondering these days who I can trust, but I know I can trust them. They have long standing roots in the horse industry, and they’re good people.”

  Maggie looked quizzically at Ben, a question forming in her mind. “Say, do you know any reason why Prater at the bank hated my dad? I thought everyone liked him, or at least tolerated his quirks.”

  Sipping his lemonade, Ben closed his eyes. His skin darkened. He looked like a man in a trance.

  Maggie started to fidget. “Don’t withhold anything from me. I feel like I’m all of a sudden stumbling around in the dark. The man’s intense dislike for me makes no sense. I’ve never done anything to harm him.”

  Ben opened his eyes and put his glass down carefully. “No, it’s not you specifically. Prater is superb at nursing a grudge, always has been. We were all graduating from high school. Prater, your dad, your mom, and me. Your mom had been dating Prater for six months or so.

  Maggie gasped.

  Nodding, Ben continued, “He thought Iris was going to marry him. She thought otherwise. Apparently, she was using Prater to get your dad’s attention.”

  Maggie grinned—how like her mom!

  “Anyway. Prater was bragging to the guys about how he was going to ask Iris to marry him after the graduation party. He never had the chance—your dad and mom eloped to Las Vegas with their diplomas in hand.”

  “Oh, my God!” Maggie gasped, covering her mouth.

  “Prater never spoke to your mom again. Never forgave your dad for taking what he claimed was his.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “So he’s been after the farm ever since.”

  “Ever since. Your mom would have died before letting that land go. Your dad did everything he could to hold onto it through bad years as well as good. Even though the land had been in your mother’s family for generations, it was often used as collateral. That was the case with most family farms. I think Colt paid it off maybe five years before his death.” Ben chuckled softly. “There was a lively celebration that night.”

  “I remember that. I’d never seen my folks so happy. But I didn’t fully understand. I never had the background information. So Prater never married.”

  “Nope.”

  “Not much of a life, living to hate.”

  “You got that right. Everybody needs somebody to love.”

  Maggie knew Ben was thinking about his deceased wife. She leaned over to pat his hand. “Thanks for being honest with me, Ben. I don’t know why my folks never shared that story with me. They weren’t evil—they were just in love.”

  “Don’t know why they didn’t tell you, either. Maybe they felt some shame about it. You can bet Prater would disagree with you, though.”

  “How’s that?”

  “About what’s evil and what’s love.”

  “Suppose you’re right. So what did you want from me, Ben?”

  Ben reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a letter. “I need to talk with you and your brother about this. It just arrived yesterday.”

  Her brother. Why on earth? “What is it? What’s wrong?” She didn’t like the sound of terror coming from her throat.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Maggie.” Ben handed Maggie the letter. “It seems that your folks took out a life insurance policy in Las Vegas the day they got married. They never told me about it. Of course, I wasn’t in the insurance business then. Seems that it was an endowment policy that they lost track of once it was paid up.”

  Maggie stared at the piece of paper. “How could they forget about this?”

  “Happens all the time. People pay up insurance. Never tell anybody. Forget they ever had it. Sometimes the companies don’t spend a lot of time trying to find the policy holder. Your folks dealt with a reputable company. As you can tell from the letter, they contacted me because I sell insurance in this region.”

  “So what now?” She knew the answer. They’d have to contact her brother.

  “It’s not a lot of money, though a hundred thousand sounded like all the money in the world back when your parents married.” Ben reached for his reading glasses. Retrieving the letter, he said, “I guess since I was the executor for your parents’ estate, I have an obligation to let both their children know there are still proceeds to be divided between them.”

  Shivering slightly, Maggie pursed her lips trying to remain calm. The last thing she wanted was another blowup with her brother like they’d had when the will was first read.

  “My recommendation to both of you,” Ben said, “is to simply divide the money equally. There’s little doubt about the court doing that if they got involved, since these monies were not part of the original will. Going to court over this would be a waste of money.”

  Maggie sneered. “Tell Brad that.”

  “I intend to, but I don’t know how to get a hold of him. I need your help with that.”

  Maggie grabbed her purse. She’d just as soon leave her brother lost in his own California world, but she couldn’t do that. He was her kids’ uncle. And they did like him a lot, even if they seldom saw him.

  She scribbled Brad’s address and telephone number on a slip of paper. Handing the note to Ben, she said, “This is no guarantee. He moves a lot. We don’t often hear from him. Maybe there will be a forwarding address.”

  “Thanks, Maggie. I’ll get back to you on this as soon as I can. I’m sure you’re like everyone else: you could use the money as soon as possible.”

  “If it comes about, I won’t turn the money down.” Recalling her brother’s taste for money, Maggie added, “But I won’t count on it either.”

  Wrestling with ghosts of past and present, Maggie drove back to the farm. She replayed recent conversations with Fallon, with Prater, and with Ben. Her folks had eloped to Vegas. Her heart raced. That must have been love without limits. Her parents must have been thrilled with the danger and the abandonment of it all. Wow, she’d never done anything that wild, that unconventional. And these were her folks, not some Hollywood characters playing out a script.

  Yet they had taken time to invest in life insurance. Why then? Maggie swerved into the middle of the road and back again. They must have known that her mother was already pregnant. She’d been an early baby—or so her mom had said. And Maggie had never seriously questioned that information. Now she knew it wasn’t necessarily true. No couple eloping to Vegas would purchase life insurance…unless. Unless they knew their family was enlarging. Goodness. She didn’t want to think about that any longer. She couldn’t.

  Maggie rolled down the pickup window, wishing the truck had air conditioning. Damn, it was hot. And summer only promised to get hotter.

  So, there was more behind Prater trying to get her to sell to Con-Ex Farms than the land. His animosity made more sense now. She’d bet the second party eager to buy the farm was none other than the bank.

  Damn! Prater could have been her father if her mom had not fled to Vegas.

  Now that was sobering.

  He wanted her land—he wanted revenge on her parents.

  “Never!” she screamed to no one.

  She smiled warmly, mulling Ben’s words over and over: Everybody needs somebody to love. Surely, that included the recalcitrant Mr. Harrington.

  Was she being too forward with the man? She’d had no interest in any other man since Mason’s death. Why now, all of a sudden? Life was already complicated enough without a man. Was she really throwing herself at him like some hard up woman?

  No—she just knew what she wanted. And she expected he wanted the same thing, but lacked the courage and self-esteem to acknowledge that fact or act upon it. Obviously, he was attracted to her. She could still feel the promise of his arousal against her bottom.

  Maggie nervously ran her fingers up and down the steering wheel. Dust from the gravel road made it impossible to see anything in the rear view mirror.

  Was she simply trying to rescue him from the bottle? Definitely not. She’d read enough
about co-dependence. She’d left him standing on the crummy sidewalk to make his own choice. And he’d sobered up and come to her. Well, he came for a job. But he came to her, nonetheless. She hadn’t expected or wanted to respond to him as a man, but she had. It was too late to retreat now. She wouldn’t give him up without a good fight. Even if that fight had to be with Ed Harrington, himself.

  - o -

  Ed took a swig of root beer and scratched the lazy tomcat sitting on a bale of hay beside him in the barn walkway. He’d needed a break, but that simply meant more time for thoughts of Maggie Anderson to torture his body and soul.

  Why couldn’t he simply get up off his duff and walk away from the damn woman? He didn’t owe her anything; not anymore. There must be other jobs around he could get now that he was sober. Hell, the Travers would hire him in a heartbeat. He always appreciated what they did for him, but it felt too much like an obligation. He wanted a job that he’d earned.

  And he had indeed made a promise of sorts to help his perky, hardheaded, mush-hearted boss establish a racing stable. They’d never discussed a timeframe. Hell, it could take years. Or he could tell her he’d done enough after the purchase of the broodmares. She’d be minimally set up then.

  Though he doubted she’d ever foaled horses before. He couldn’t just up and leave her, or leave those mares to her mercy. Ed Harrington honored his promises. He might not have much left, but he still had his pride.

  Stroking the cat behind its ears, Ed mumbled, “Your damn mistress has enough pride for all of us, Tom. That’s a large part of the problem. She can’t accept no for an answer once she gets her claws into an idea—or into a man.

  Maybe he’d get lucky and it wouldn’t take so long to make the stables competitive. After all, Cassie was running some horses in Chicago, and she was damn good. If they could set up the foundation of a contending racing stable, then he might be able to reestablish himself in the racing world. Maybe Maggie might even let him buy in on a horse or two after she got to know him better. Like it or not, this was the best game in town for him; it was the only game.

  He shook his head—that wasn’t all of it. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave behind that lavender scent or walk away from the mulberry taste.

  The calico tomcat stretched to his fullest extent before leaping from the hay bale. Ed chuckled. “You wouldn’t have a second thought about what to do, would you, Mr. Tom?” The cat walked on without ever looking back. “Maybe that’s what separates us. She deserves more than just having an itch scratched. And I have nothing more to offer than that. Nothing but pain and heartache. Surely, that woman’s had enough of that to last a lifetime.”

  - o -

  Forty-five more days passed without a drop of moisture, not even early morning dew. The ground cracked like so many broken mirrors. Corn leaves had long since curled. Alfalfa grew to about four inches and then turned brown. Even if a drenching rain occurred now, farmers would be lucky if the land would yield forty percent of a normal crop. Not enough to cover expenses. Not enough to purchase seed for the following year.

  Maggie knelt at the edge of the corn field west of the barn. Parched dirt sifted through her fingers like desert sand. Anxiety furrowed her brow. “Damn this heat wave,” she muttered. It couldn’t have picked a worse year to happen. Her financial reserves were rapidly shriveling up like the corn, which should have been towering over her head this late in July.

  If things got much worse, she might have to consider cutting back her investments in horses in order to make it through to another spring and another season. At least she had that option. Other small farmers would only make it if they could find work in town. When the weather failed to cooperate, there weren’t many jobs available in communities whose economies depended upon the cash crops the land produced.

  At least she had the horses to fall back on. They weren’t making a lot of money by any stretch of the imagination. The Chicago based contingent was showing a modest profit; she expected that was largely because the Travers were not taking out training fees. Still, Cassie was very high on the three-year-old, Capote’s Dream. He’d already won a mid-level allowance race. Cassie had nominated him to run in a modest stakes race at Prairie Meadows over Labor Day weekend.

  A lot could happen by that time. If there was any major calamity, she might need to borrow money. Never from Prater. Maybe her parent’s insurance money would arrive in time—if Ben could ever find Brad. And if her brother didn’t behave like a greedy snake. Hell, it might even rain.

  Maggie stood and squeezed herself tightly. The scorched landscape seemed lush compared to the blistering wasteland her body was becoming. He hadn’t touched her for too long. Had it all been her imagination? They’d been polite enough; too polite. The kids made most of the conversation at mealtime. Ed disappeared most evenings. She imagined he’d found more meetings to attend. Once he’d spoken briefly about working the twelve steps. He was anxious about completing some of them. He had a sponsor; she was thankful for that.

  The last thing she wanted was for Ed to start drinking again. That would be the end of everything, for him and for her.

  Maybe he was seeing another woman. Maybe the meetings were just a ruse. Maggie shivered in the heat. Her loins tightened. Removing her cap, she ran dusty fingers through her hair. No, he couldn’t be involved with another woman. He couldn’t.

  Shaking her head, Maggie hoped and prayed for rain. This heat wave couldn’t go on forever. Much longer and it would drive her batty.

  As Maggie left the field and approached the paddock area, she heard voices coming from the round pen. Heading in that direction, she heard Ed giving instructions to Johnny and Carolyn.

  Leaning against the fence rails, Maggie smiled. Ed was showing her kids how work a yearling filly on a longe line. Things had improved greatly between Ed and Carolyn. He no longer seemed so shy around her, and she wasn’t trying to be sexual in the least. Thank God for small favors. Johnny worshipped the man. Ed Harrington could do no wrong in the boy’s eyes. “He understands horses like that horse whispering guy,” he’d boasted just the other day. Johnny was up early each morning to help with the horses. He certainly spent more time listening to Ed than to his Walkman.

  Just as his connection with the kids was improving, the relationship between him and her was stagnating. And that was being kind. Not that they were ripping each other apart—it just wasn’t going anywhere. At least it wasn’t going where she wanted it to go.

  She’d always hated running in place in gym class. This by far was worse. Ed Harrington might be like that horse whispering guy, but he sure had a lot to learn about romancing a woman before he could challenge Robert Redford.

  Finished with the morning lessons, Ed led the filly over to where Maggie was standing. Her children followed.

  “You’ve got a couple bright kids, Maggie. Hope you know that,” he drawled.

  Maggie wished she had a camera to capture that moment of beaming smiles. Ed was not big on praise, so when it came, it merited a celebration.

  “Hey, Mom,” Johnny piped.

  “Hey, yourself.” Maggie pulled her son’s cap over his eyes.

  “When are we going to the fair? There are only two more days left.”

  “Wondered if you were going to forget this year!”

  “When, Mom?” Johnny pleaded.

  “Tomorrow is Saturday. Why don’t we go in time for lunch? Then we can see some of the animals. And the rides won’t really start until later anyway.”

  “All right!”

  “Mom, can I invite Amy Ramsey?” Carolyn asked.

  “Sure, why not?”

  Johnny dragged his boot, making a deep line in the soft corral dirt. Looking up at Ed, he said, “You’re going to come with us, aren’t you?”

  “Now, boy,” Ed began, “I’ve got things to do. I’m not much of a fair person.”

  “But I want you to come and watch the 4-H kids show their horses. You said you might have time this winter
to teach me how to ride the correct way.”

  Ed frowned at the boy.

  Slumped shoulders, turned down mouth, doleful eyes—Maggie could see Johnny’s entire body arguing his case. What would Ed do? Maggie watched the internal chaos churning inside him. He really didn’t want to go, that was perfectly evident. The fair would probably place him too close to her. But he clearly didn’t want to let Johnny down. In the end, tough Mr. Harrington was a cream puff. There must be much she could learn from how her children handled him. And wasn’t it nice to know that he intended to stay through the winter?

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, Ed grumbled, “Oh, all right. We’ll go see some horses. It’s not like we don’t see horses everyday.”

  Maggie saw him glance at her. She tried not to look too triumphant.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Johnny, Ed and Maggie munched on hot dogs and potato chips while watching the equitation classes. For a change, Maggie welcomed the late July sunshine warming her skin. Today she would forget about the drought. Instead, she relaxed, sitting on backless wooden benches looking watching 4-H kids chasing their dreams. Johnny would most likely be out there in the arena next year. That would be much more nerve-racking; she’d enjoy this mellow day while she could.

  Ed remained quiet, no doubt wishing he was somewhere else, but he did comment to Johnny now and then about a particular horse or rider. Maggie appraised her men and knew that this was as close to being a family as they had experienced since Ed came on board. The only one missing was Carolyn, who was off somewhere with her friend. Fourteen-year-olds didn’t do the fair with their parents, Maggie had been informed.

  “I only want to ride western,” Johnny said to Ed. “No eastern riding for me.”

  “Can’t blame you on that. ‘Course, jockeys can do both.” Ed cleaned his fingernails with a penknife.

  Johnny wrinkled his nose. “Well, maybe I should learn just in case.”

  “Um, we’ll see,” Maggie interjected. One thing she didn’t want to happen with all this racing business was for her son to become a jockey. She couldn’t think of a much more dangerous sport than sitting on top of a twelve hundred pound beast running as fast and often as wildly as it possibly could. Maybe Johnny would grow to six foot tall and two hundred pounds—considering her frame, that seemed unlikely.