Kentucky Woman

by Jan Scarbrough

  He had heard enough. Jack stepped aside and gestured with his hand towards the office door. “Gloria, it’s been a pleasure talking to you. I think we’ve come to an understanding. Will you kindly leave? Or do I have to throw you out?”

  “I can find my own way out, thank you. Enjoy your life, Jack. Just don’t come crawling back to me when she cheats on you and takes you for every cent you have!” The creamy bare shoulders raised and dropped in a huff. Without another word, she sailed out of Jack’s office.

  Damn that felt good. He had been longing to put Gloria Fenton in her place for months. And to think she had been the catalyst to make him admit the truth. Jack wanted to shout for joy. Slap high-fives. Spring back flips. Instead he banged the door behind him and raced for his car.

  * * * *

  Jack rushed home, his mind whirring with plans. He’d quit the bank and concentrate on the farm. Alex would help him. Maybe she’d let him adopt Tyler. Then the boy would officially be a Breckinridge. And he would tell her the truth about sending checks all through the years and of loving her from afar. Yes, he’d clear the air and never lie to Alex again.

  Arriving at Breckinridge Station about four-thirty, he parked his car inside the garage and went through the mud room and into the kitchen.

  A soap opera blared from the television set in the family room. Jack dropped his suit coat across the back of a kitchen chair and loosened his tie. He hurried into the family room, anxious to see Alex. Tyler lay on his stomach in front of the television with his school books opened. Copper stretched out beside him. The dog lifted his head when Jack entered the room. Alex relaxed in the recliner, her left leg outstretched in front of her.

  Her bare foot was bandaged with an ice bag on it.

  “My God, Alex. What happened to you?” He crossed the room to her chair.

  Alex looked up at him with a wary look in her eyes and clicked the mute button on the remote control.

  “Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me?” Words tumbled from his lips so quickly that she didn’t answer any of his questions.

  “Mommy sprained her ankle,” Tyler piped up, eager to tell the story.

  “My God, Alex,” he said again, gazing down at her. Her pitiful foot, all wrapped up, reminded him of how fragile she was. More than ever he wanted to pamper and protect her.

  “The doctor said I’ll be fine in a few days if I take care of myself.” She tilted her head to indicate crutches on the floor. “I have to stay off of my foot.”

  “You have no business working like you do around this farm. You’re not hired help.”

  She glanced away, refusing to meet his eyes. “What do you expect me to do? I can’t sit around this house and twiddle my thumbs.”

  He caught his breath. “Tyler, go up to your room until supper and do your homework. I need to talk to your mother.”

  “Do I hafta?”

  “Tyler, go on,” Alex said. “Jack bought you that nice TV and that Wii console and games. Why don’t you go up and play your new dragon game when you get finished with those vocabulary words?”

  “Okay, Mommy.” Tyler turned to go, then ran back to Jack, giving him a quick hug around the waist. “Thanks again for the Wii.”

  “I’m glad you like it, Buddy.”

  “I’m glad we came here,” Tyler said sheepishly and then fled upstairs followed by the fuzzy red dog.

  Unexpected warmth rushed through Jack. “That’s a good kid.”

  “Yes,” Alex murmured. “So far so good.”

  Jack sat down on the edge of the sofa and reached for Alex’s hand, holding it firmly in his. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I took a wrong step. Turned my ankle on an uneven surface.”

  “Did Ross take you to the doctor?”

  She refused to meet his gaze and stared down at the arm of the chair rubbing the soft fabric with her fingertips. “Uh, yeah.”

  “I’m glad he was around.” Jack hesitated for a moment. “I still wish you had called me.”

  “I figured you were busy.”

  “We need to talk about keeping you productive and out of harm’s way,” he said, trying to soften his words with a grin.

  She looked at him then, her gaze intent, searching his face with a heartrending look. He longed to put his arm around her and pull her close.

  For a split second, he was about to come clean about his brother, get down on his knees and tell her he loved her.

  But the phone rang.

  He climbed to his feet to answer the landline located on a side table. “Hello?”

  “Jack! How’s Alex?”

  “Marsden?” Surprise echoed through Jack’s voice.

  “Yeah. How’s the kid?”

  Jack glanced up. Alex sat immobile, her eyes glued to the flashing, but silent TV screen.

  “She’s resting and comfortable,” he told Marsden.

  “Good. Suspect she’s outta commission for a few days, huh?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “You tell her that it’s no problem. I’ll give Greco a few days off too.”

  And then the phone went dead. Marsden had hung up.

  Shock traveled through his body. Jack walked back to the sofa, trying to control his sudden anger. Alex had lied to him.

  “Turn that thing off,” he snapped.

  Her gaze connected with his. Without comment, she flicked off the TV.

  “Explain to me why Johnny Marsden is interested in your sprained ankle.”

  Her eyes grew wide.

  “Answer me, Alex.”

  “He was there when I hurt it.”

  He barely heard her words. “You were at the track? Working Marsden’s horses?” The pulse point in his throat was ready to explode. “You could have been seriously hurt exercising those green Thoroughbreds.”

  “I only exercised Greco. Johnny really needs my help. The colt is still fractious from those earlier mishaps.”

  He read the guilt on her face. “I thought you agreed to quit exercising horses.” He couldn’t believe what she had done. What else had she lied about?

  She squirmed in the chair. “It was just one horse.” She reached down and pulled the side lever. The footrest dropped with a thunk and the ice bag fell to the floor. “I went in late, did my job, and turned around and came home. Not many people saw me if that’s what you’re worried about. No one will know Mrs. Jackson Breckinridge works on the backside.”

  He glared at her. “That’s not the point. Don’t you care about Tyler?” Anger rolled through him. Didn’t she understand his fear?

  Her eyes sparked and she struggled to her feet. Lifting the crutches, she hopped on her good foot until she’d fitted the pads under her arms. “That’s not fair!”

  “What am I supposed to think?” His jaw clenched. “You’ll jeopardize your life going breakneck speed on a race horse.”

  “Johnny needs my help,” she fired back.

  “Johnny,” he scoffed. How dare she risk her life? “That old trainer has plenty of resources. He doesn’t need you.”

  Alex stood in front of him, hobbled by her bandaged foot and the crutches. Her tangled hair framed the fury written all across her heart-shaped face. Her jaw was as set and as tense as his felt. He should clobber her for what she had done.

  But all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her. Protect her. Make everything right between them.

  Alex lifted her proud chin. “Johnny can’t do what I can do for Greco. He tried other exercise riders before he called me back.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  “What I get,” she spat, “is that Breckinridge Station might be in very real danger of failing if Greco doesn’t do well on the track.”

  Jack rocked back on his heels and then drew himself up. “I don’t care about that.”

  She pulled herself up too—as far as a petite woman could with a gimpy, bandaged foot and crutches. “I thought you wanted to quit banking and make the farm your career. We need Greco
to win big races. I was trying to help you,” she said flatly.

  “I don’t need help from you,” he said with a short, harsh laugh.

  Her full mouth firmed. “I had to beg you to take me to bed and you’ve left me alone ever since. You don’t need my help with Greco. Sounds like you don’t need me period. Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll stay out of your business from now on.”

  “You just do that,” he snapped. Fighting to control the dangerous emotions Alex unleashed within him, Jack did what he’d seen his father do countless times. He left the room and the house, slamming the door behind him.

  Alex sank down onto the sofa. She felt as if she’d fallen from a horse and air had been knocked from her lungs. What had happened? She had argued with Jack over her stupid sprained ankle. It wasn’t a life-threatening injury, but it symbolized so much more.

  Bottom line, she was still the daughter of hired help. She didn’t fit into Jack’s lifestyle. That same anger and disappointment from years ago clogged her throat and her face flushed with shame.

  In her mind she remained the unwed mother of Brandon’s child, the child first Brandon, and then Jack, hid from his upper class family.

  “Are you okay, Mommy?” Tyler crept down the stairs with Copper behind him and ran across the room to her. He dived onto the sofa, threw his arms around her waist and buried his head in her lap. The red dog licked her elbow.

  Alex stroked his blond hair. “Sure, I’m okay, Tiger.”

  “I heard you and Jack yelling.”

  “Did you hear what we said?”

  “No.” His words were muffled in her lap. “I just heard you yelling like you were mad.”

  “We were mad.”

  He looked up. “I got scared.”

  “No need to be scared, Tiger. It’s okay.” She gave him a quick squeeze. “Let me explain something to you about grownups.”

  Tyler sat up and Alex brushed the hair from his eyes. God, she loved this child—this innocent boy who hadn’t asked for any heartache.

  “Sometimes grownups get mad at each other and sometimes they shout.” Alex read fear in his eyes. “You know, like sometimes Mommy and Granny yell at each other.”

  “But you and Granny don’t mean it. Not really.”

  Perception from an eight year old. It blew Alex away. “Jack and I don’t mean it either.”

  “But you sounded like you did.”

  Alex expelled a long breath of self-doubt. “I know we did, but you’re not used to having a daddy around the house. You don’t know how men and women act together.”

  Shock raced through Alex’s veins. She had just equated Jack with father.

  How stupid she had been to think this was a simple monetary arrangement and that she wouldn’t invest her feelings. And not keeping sex out of the marriage had been just as naïve. Where had her head been?

  “If Jack’s really mad, will he want us to leave?” Tyler’s voice was small and sad.

  “No, Tiger, Jack wants us.” God, what had she said? She didn’t know what Jack wanted any more than she knew what she had expected this marriage to solve. She shut her eyes against the pain of her folly.

  The front doorbell rang and Copper sprang to her feet, barking.

  “Tyler, bring that dog here and go answer the door.”

  Tyler dragged Copper over to where Alex sat, and she grabbed the feisty dog’s collar. Then he ran to the front door and opened it.

  Alex’s stomach took a nosedive. Irene Breckinridge stood in the doorway, looking as elegant as always, wearing a brown tweed suit and classic brown pumps, and carrying a brown purse across her arm. Her silver hair was styled in a bouffant hairdo. In her ears and around her neck, she wore expensive, but old-fashioned pearls.

  During a different age, Alex expected the woman would have come calling wearing a pillbox hat and proper white gloves.

  “May I come in?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Come in, Irene.” Alex swallowed her surprise and waved in the general direction of her foot. “I’d get up, but I’ve injured my ankle.”

  “Don’t bother.” Her mother-in-law’s tone was coolly disapproving. She came across the threshold and into the family room, eyeing the barking dog in Alex’s grasp.

  “Tyler, take Copper upstairs.” She knew her son had no idea who this woman was and she wasn’t ready for a formal introduction.

  Tyler closed the door behind Irene and ran to the sofa, grabbing Copper by the collar. “Let’s go, girl.” He dragged the dog up the stairs. Alex heard his bedroom door shut.

  She turned to her mother-in-law. “Jack isn’t here right now.”

  Irene’s eyes narrowed. “I know. He’s at work, but I didn’t come to see him.”

  Alex was too startled to correct her mistake. Irene had evidently not seen Jack’s car and thought he was in Louisville. “Can I help you with something? Would you like to sit down?”

  “I didn’t come for a social visit.” She examined Alex with an expression that was cold and unforgiving. “I came to ask you if you’re pregnant.”

  “What?” This was too much. Alex would laugh in the woman’s face if it wasn’t so ironic.

  “There has to be a reason why Jack would marry you so fast.”

  “Really, Irene, it’s none of your business why Jack and I married.” Alex struggled to her feet. She wasn’t as tall as her mother-in-law, but at least standing, she didn’t feel at such a disadvantage.

  “I’m prepared to offer you fifty thousand dollars to divorce Jack.”

  Alex’s head reeled. Was Irene crazy? Anger and humiliation, as cold as a frigid February morning, gushed through her. “I can’t be bribed,” she stated with anger.

  Irene looked down her aristocratic nose at Alex. “Come now, Miss Marsden, I know you and your mother lived in a two bedroom apartment until moving here, and you made less than forty thousand dollars a year. You’ve bettered yourself considerably by marrying my son.”

  Alex shuddered inwardly at the thought of Irene Breckinridge spying on her. She felt unclean. “How dare you! You have a lot of nerve!”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady.” Irene advanced, towering over her. “You’re an opportunist, and you know it.”

  “I am not! I’m protecting my son.”

  Irene stepped back, speculation sparking in her eyes. “That’s exactly what I thought. You married my son for money so he could take care of yours.”

  A suffocating sensation choked Alex’s throat. She’d said too much already.

  “It’s apparent that this quick marriage is a sham. Take the money, Alex. You can provide for your boy and your mother. You don’t really belong here, do you?”

  Alex stared at the imperious woman. She had done her share of covering up for Brandon and so had Jack. Was it time to tell her the truth?

  “Take the money, Alex. I won’t tell Jack you did,” Irene pulled a sealed envelope from her purse.

  “No!”

  She was not like the Breckinridges. She would not take their money any more. She’d move her family home, back to that two bedroom apartment where at least she was in control of her own destiny. She’d find a way to support her family.

  But if she did that, Tyler would suffer. Alex looked around the butter-soft family room where she felt at home. Her son loved it here. Her mother did too. How could she take all this away from them? How could she hurt them intentionally even to regain her self-respect?

  “Well? Are you going to take the money or aren’t you?”

  Bracing on the crutches, Alex thought about covering her ears with her palms. She didn’t want to hear any more. She blinked back the tears starting in her eyes. She’d be damned if she cried in front of Irene Breckinridge.

  “What’s it going to be, Alex?” Irene persisted and waggled the envelope in her face. “Fifty thousand dollars. It’s a lot of money. All you have to do is divorce my son and it’s yours.”

  “I don’t know!” Her voice was raw, and her whole body
shook with confusion and hopelessness.

  “What in the Sam hill are you doing here, Irene?”

  Alex turned in time to see her mother advance into the family room like an avenging angel, ready to do battle for her only child.

  * * * *

  What was his mother’s car doing in the driveway? Jack broke into a run. If there was one thing he didn’t want was his mother and Alex alone together. God knew what his mother would say to Alex and he needed to tell Alex he loved her before any additional crap hit the fan.

  He took the front stairs two at a time and flung open the front door. He was too late. A drama that rivaled the longest running soap opera was being played out in the family room.

  Evelyn Marsden stood toe-to-toe with his mother using words that would make a sailor blush.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Jack!” His mother fled to his side. “I want you to get rid of these horrible people.”

  “Mother, calm down.” He took her hand. “You know Evelyn. She worked here a long time for Nana and Mr. B.”

  “I know who she is, but she and her daughter have no right to be in this house.”

  “You bitch!” Evelyn shouted, fury making her face purple. “If you hadn’t stolen Jackson Breckinridge right from under my nose, then this might have been my home, not the place I cleaned for thirty years.”

  “Shut up, Evelyn.” Irene’s tone was threatening. She glared at the smaller woman and lifted her proud chin.

  “I won’t shut up,” Evelyn said, stepping nearer. “I’ve been quiet all my life. Jimmy Marsden was a good man and I knew my place. Thing is, honey, you forgot yours a long time ago.”

  “Mom, what are you talking about?” Alex asked.

  Evelyn turned to her daughter. “Irene Dickerson and I were best friends in high school. Her family lived in Versailles, just like mine. Her daddy worked at the lumber store. She’s no better than I am, when you come down to it.” She faced Irene. “And she’s got the morals of a snake. Jack’s father was my blind date the night we double-dated.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Irene declared. “Thirty years is a long time to harbor a grudge.”

  Evelyn took another step forward, wagging her finger. Jack hesitated, torn by conflicting emotions. They were like two alley cats, spitting and hissing, their backs raised.