Kentucky Heat

by Fern Michaels

  “Speaking of what you’ve always wanted, Hatch is falling in love with you,” Ruby said out of the blue. “I don’t think he knows it yet, but this is going to be a momentous week for you both.”

  Nealy felt her emotions start to flounder. Was she right? Ruby was a romantic and looked at everything through rose-colored glasses. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her hands in her pockets, she crossed her fingers that Ruby was right about Hatch falling in love with her. Suddenly she felt so happy and giddy she wanted to sing.

  “Let’s go check out the barbecue pit so I can drool. Hatch should be here soon if he’s coming.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Ruby said, pointing toward the farm entrance.

  Nealy turned around to see Hatch’s rental car pulling in the drive as a dizzying current raced through her. “You’re late,” she shouted. “I was starting to worry.” He smiled, and she felt warm all over.

  “I ran into one hell of a head wind,” he said, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. “I guess I should have called, huh?” Nealy nodded. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He reached into the car for his duffel bag. “You know it just occurred to me that this may not be the best time for me to be here. It is Derby week. You can tell me to go, and it won’t hurt my feelings.”

  “If I didn’t want you here, Hatch, I wouldn’t have invited you. I just don’t know how much time I’ll be able to spend with you. I don’t want to hear another word about leaving. Doesn’t the barbecue smell wonderful?”

  “It sure does. Wait here while I run my stuff up to the apartment. You sure it’s okay for me to stay there? Are you sure you won’t be having other guests?”

  “I’m very sure, and no, there will be no other guests. It’s clean as a whistle.” Nealy looked around. “Sometimes I think I should do more for the workers. I do this barbecue, then we do a big Thanksgiving dinner, and we have a Christmas party and give presents to the kids and give generous bonuses to the guys. We pay well, the guys have a good health plan, and we started a pension fund when Smitty suggested it. Back then I didn’t know much about stuff like that. Do you think I’m doing enough? How much is enough to show them I appreciate their hard work and loyalty?”

  “You’re doing plenty. No one has left your employ for years, and they all seem happy.”

  “I’m so relieved. I worry about stuff like that. Listen, I have to get down to the barn. You can help if you want. We do ninety-minute shifts so that everyone gets a chance to eat, have a drink or two, and dance. Right now it’s my shift. I see you’re dressed for work, so let’s get to it.” She reached for his arm and smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy.

  “Wait a minute,” Hatch said, pulling her toward him. “There’s something I want to give you.”

  “What?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “This,” he said, kissing her.

  “Hmmmm,” Nealy said, melting into his arms. “Hmmmm.”

  “What does hmmmm mean?” Hatch grinned.

  “Oh, that . . . well . . . I liked that. A lot. Would you mind doing it again?”

  “Ma’am, I wouldn’t mind at all,” Hatch chuckled, as he clamped his lips down on hers. He almost fell backward with Nealy’s ardor.

  “Lady, don’t do this to me here in public. Can we pick up later where we’re going to leave off right now?”

  Nealy, her face pink, felt flustered beyond belief. Her head bobbed up and down. “Name the time and the place.”

  “The apartment over the garage. When you get there. I’ll be waiting.”

  “I’ll be there,” Nealy said.

  Nealy’s feet left the ground as Hatch picked her up and twirled her around.

  Nealy’s mind and emotions were on the stellar evening she’d spent with Hatch. It was everything she wanted, everything she expected. She knew now for certain that she was in love. She could still, if she concentrated, feel the tingle running through her body. No, that wasn’t what she was feeling. She was throbbing with anticipation for it to happen again. She gave herself a mental shake as she started for the stallion barn.

  Nealy looked down at the hands on her watch at the same moment all hell broke loose on Blue Diamond Farms. She could hear Smitty’s screams, saw clouds of dust, and a caravan of eleven black cars. “What? What’s going on?” she bellowed at the top of her lungs as men in dark suits, sunglasses, and handheld two-way radios invaded the barn.

  “What’s going on? Who the hell are you? Get your asses out of my barn and do it now!” Nealy ordered.

  “Stand down, ma’am. That’s an order!”

  “Stand down! What does that mean, stand down? Who are you? You’re upsetting my horses. I gave you an order, too. You aren’t listening to me—get the hell out of my barn.”

  The gun in his hand was gray and deadly looking. “Stand down means don’t move.”

  The hair on the back of Nealy’s neck stood at attention. She grabbed her riding crop out of her back pocket and took a step forward. Behind her, she heard a horse whinny in fright. She glanced over her shoulder to see one of her grooms fighting to keep El Jefe, a million-dollar two-year-old colt, from rearing. Her fear turned to anger. Brandishing the riding crop she made for the man. “Whoever you are, don’t take another step. You’re scaring my horses.”

  “Stand down, ma’am. We’re Secret Service agents.”

  “What? Your people were here all night securing the farm. How many men does it take to do that? Nothing’s changed since last night. You need to be a little more quiet. This isn’t good for the horses. There aren’t any bombs in here; your people cleared it all early this morning. Where’s the vice president?”

  “There was a change in plans, ma’am. The vice president is in Washington. The secretary of state is sitting in his car along with the president until we give the all-clear signal. An hour at the most, ma’am.”

  “The president of the United States!” Nealy said in awe, her jaw dropping. “The president of the United States is here, and he’s actually sitting in my driveway. How’d that happen?”

  “The vice president couldn’t make it at the last moment. The president just happened to be free and agreed to stand in for him. The president and the first lady admire you, Ms. Clay.”

  “Fancy that,” Nealy said, her eyes full of shock.

  “We need to check these stalls, ma’am.”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. These horses don’t know you. They’ll stomp you to death. I mean that.” Out of the corner of her eye, Nealy watched dark-clad men moving in all directions, gun in one hand, two-way radio in the other. They looked fierce and deadly. She felt herself grow light-headed.

  Nealy’s mind raced. “Wait a minute. President or no president, you get on that radio and call your men back here stat, which means on the double. Hear me?”

  The agent’s eyebrows shot upward. “I beg your pardon.”

  “My horses are worth millions of dollars and no one goes near them without someone from my employ going along. You got that, Mr. Secret Service Agent?”

  Hatch stood leaning against the paddock fence, chuckling, his eyes bright with amusement and admiration. His girl was giving them what for. He felt like shooting his fist in the air.

  From the entrance to the breezeway, Metaxas and Ruby watched the proceedings, their jaws dropping when the agents bowed to Nealy’s demands.

  “We need to check these stalls,” the agent said again. His eyes looked wary, though.

  “If you all clear the barn, we’ll lead the horses out to the paddock. Make your search quick. Just for the record, Mr. Secret Service Agent, I did not invite the president here. Technically, that means you are all trespassing. What that means is nothing better happen to one of my horses. Now be quick about it.”

  The agent jerked his head to show his fellow agents they should leave the barn.

  “That means you, too. I’m not taking these horses out until you are all ou
t of the barn. You stand down, Mister.”

  An hour later the horses were back in their stalls, the workers agog at what was transpiring in front of their very eyes.

  “You’re free to go about your business now, ma’am. This might be a good time to welcome the president and perhaps serve some refreshments,” the steely eyed agent suggested.

  Nealy looked down at her hands . . . hands that were covered with hay, and green horse saliva because she had just checked a mare’s teeth. She rubbed her hands on her jeans and hoped for the best.

  There was no such thing as walking up the path to the house alone. They were a parade—Nealy, Ruby, Metaxas, and Hatch flanked by a bevy of agents whose eyes were everywhere.

  “We’re good to go here,” the agent said quietly into his handheld radio with the flashing lights. “Escort the president and the secretary into the house. Send a detail into town to sweep the ballroom, and report back to me. The motorcade will leave here at six-fifteen. The police have been alerted. Make sure everyone is inside and seated when we arrive.”

  Nealy looked down at her hands again. She rubbed them on her jeans. Again.

  “Miz Clay, it’s an honor to meet you,” the president said, loping toward her, agents at his side. “My wife sends her regards. She also wants to know if it’s possible to get a picture of you, me, and the horse you’re riding in the Derby next week. I hope you don’t object too much to me taking the vice president’s place.”

  He looked and sounded just like one of her neighbors. He was dressed in denim, but then he came from a ranching family. “No, I don’t object at all. I think we can arrange for the pictures, Mr. President,” Nealy said, extending her hand. “I’d like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Metaxas Parish and my friend Hatch Littletree.”

  “We’ve met,” the president said, extending his hand to Metaxas and then Hatch. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Mrs. Parish. Metaxas has told me a lot about you over the years. Fine man, your husband. He’s helped out the country many times, as Mr. Littletree has.”

  “Call me Ruby. Everyone calls me Ruby.”

  “Can I offer you gentlemen some coffee or perhaps a drink?”

  “What I’d really like is a tour. I’d like to see the horses. I’ve been a Thoroughbred horse enthusiast most of my life even though I ride Western. Not as well as you, Ms. Clay. Why don’t we get that picture business out of the way so you ladies can get ready for this evening. My wife told me not to interfere with what’s going on. It doesn’t make a difference if you’re the president or not, you always listen to your wife.” The president chuckled.

  “You ride Western?” Nealy asked. “Hatch rides Western, too. We can do the pictures first, Mr. President, and please, call me Nealy. There’s a camera in the barn we can use.”

  It was a precision drill all the way, with the Secret Service agents in charge. Nealy led Shufly from the stall as one of the agents positioned the president and Nealy next to the horse.

  “He’s magnificent,” the president said, as Nealy led the horse out to the paddock. Nealy beamed. “Take more than one, Josh,” he ordered. They posed, they smiled, they said cheese. “This big fellow reminds me of some of the pictures I’ve seen of Man O’ War. Is he as good?”

  “We’ll know that for sure on Saturday, Mr. President. Everyone who has met him says the same thing. I agree, though. Like his daddy, he was born to run. Metaxas and Hatch can show you around. Would you like to see Flyby? Maybe you’d like to have your picture taken with a Triple Crown winner.”

  “Flyby? Hell, yes. That would be great.”

  Nealy handed Shufly over to his groom, then led the president out to the number three pasture. “There he is,” she said, feeling so proud she thought she was going to bust wide open. Hatch came up behind her and gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. She knew that life couldn’t get any better than this.

  “Here, Mr. President, give him this. He loves mints,” Nealy said, raising her arm to reach inside her pocket. The agent named Josh had his hand in her pocket in the blink of an eye. He nodded curtly. The president rolled his eyes. Nealy, her hand trembling, held out the mint.

  “I’ll . . . I’ll see you later, Mr. President.”

  “Would you mind if later on we sat on that lovely front porch of yours? Before it’s time to leave for the ball?”

  “I would be honored, Mr. President. The front porch is my favorite part of the house. Make yourself comfortable.”

  “I will. It feels like home around here,” the president said wistfully.

  Back in the house, upstairs in her bedroom, Ruby and Nealy fell into each other’s arms. “The president of the United States is in my house. Well, in my barn. He’s going to sit on my front porch. Ruby, did you hear me?”

  Ruby’s head bobbed up and down. “When we knew the vice president was coming we were in awe, and now we have the man himself. He said he wanted a picture of you and him and the horse. My God, Nealy, it doesn’t get any better than that. Does it?”

  “No. God, no! Did I act all right? You know how stupid I can be sometimes. Tell me the truth.”

  “You were just fine. I can’t wait for tonight. Can you see the faces of all those horse owners when you walk in with the president of the United States? Oh, God, this is just too much. You have to call Dagmar Doolittle and make sure she’s there so she gets the scoop, Nealy. Swear her to secrecy.”

  “Okay, I can do that. I will do that. When people talk about special moments in time . . . This is one of those moments, right, Ruby?”

  “This is definitely one of those moments. Did you see Metaxas and Hatch? They were grinning and talking shop with the president. They just rolled with it. Now aren’t you glad you got that ass-kicking outfit I made you buy?”

  “Yeah,” Nealy said in a jittery voice. “I have to call Dagmar.”

  The moment the reporter picked up the phone, Nealy went into her spiel. “Just be inside the door with your photographer. Be by the first table, and you’ll get the first shot. Have your photographer run to the paper with the picture and I’ll see what I can do about getting you a few words with the big guy. I always pay my debts, Dagmar. No promises now. You’ll beat all those jackals with your story first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll see you tonight. Yes, yes, it is so exciting I can’t stand it. Bye.”

  “I need a drink, Ruby. I mean, I really need a drink. This is all so . . . I need a drink.”

  “Me, too. You go ahead and run your bath. I’ll scoot downstairs the back way and get us something. Just one, right?”

  “Yeah,” Nealy said, remembering her first date with Hatch. “Maybe we should have tea.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t. This calls for a real drink. I’ll put a lot of ice in yours.”

  “I can do this. I really can do this. I can, can’t I, Ruby? I feel like Cinderella going to the ball.”

  “You are!” Ruby giggled. “I’m your lady-in-waiting.”

  “We better get a move on. We only have five hours to get beautiful. I’m allowing for an hour on the front porch. We probably won’t need that much time on the porch, but an hour sounds right. Maybe thirty minutes.”

  “Be right back,” Ruby said.

  Nealy looked at herself in the mirror. It’s me. This ravishing creature is me. She leaned over to peer closer at her reflection in the vanity mirror, Ruby behind her.

  “Nealy, you look fabulous. In a million years I didn’t think you could pull this off but look at you. You look like one of those gorgeous runway models. That dress is pure dynamite. You glisten and sparkle like a rare jewel. You aren’t overdone either. It’s just perfect and you smell heavenly. We made good choices. I think we are going to blow everyone’s socks off tonight.”

  “Ruby, you look beautiful, too. That dress fits you like a glove. I want a picture of you tonight.”

  “Someone’s at the door,” Ruby hissed.

  “It’s probably Matilda. Come in!” Nealy shouted.

  “I’m just checking the rooms,” one of th
e female Secret Service agents said.

  The agent nodded and closed the door. Nealy shrugged. “We’ll go down the kitchen stairs. I haven’t thought about horses all afternoon, Ruby. Or Hatch.”

  “Me either.” Ruby grinned. “The ball starts at six, with dinner and speeches, even though everyone gets there at five-thirty. At least that’s the way it’s been the past two years. We’re leaving here at six-fifteen. That means we will be fashionably late. I don’t know when I’ve ever been this excited. You look so calm, Nealy.”

  “I’m not calm at all. I’m numb. Maybe I’m in shock.”

  The same agent who had poked her head in the bedroom door appeared in the kitchen. “The president asked me to ask if you and your escorts would like to ride to the ball with him and the secretary. The president said he spoke to Mr. Parish earlier this afternoon, but he wanted me to check with you ladies to be absolutely certain.”

  Nealy and Ruby both nodded.

  “Good. The president enjoyed himself this afternoon. May I say you ladies look very grand.”

  “Thank you,” Nealy and Ruby said in unison.

  “Here come our dates. Metaxas always sounds like a herd of cattle. Hatch isn’t a featherweight either.”

  “Ta da!” Ruby said, swirling around for her husband’s benefit.

  “Sweet baby, you’re prettier than a summer day.”

  Nealy smiled at Hatch but stood rooted to the floor.

  “You look pretty, Nealy,” Hatch said. “I want a picture of you to take home with me.”

  “Okay. You look . . . you look, handsome, Hatch. I’m nervous. No, no, I didn’t have a drink . . . Well, I did but . . .”

  “It wore off two hours ago. We’re both fine. Look, this was a shock! It isn’t every day the president of the United States shows up in your barn. What did you guys do this afternoon while we were prettying up?” Ruby asked.

  “We walked the farm. Took some pictures, drank a few beers. The president is a regular guy. He said he’s going to try to come for the Derby with his wife, but he did say it’s one of those things where crowd control has to be taken care of and the Secret Service doesn’t like it when he springs things on them at the last minute. He called his wife and that was about it. Guy stuff. Then they left to get cleaned up and now they’re back. I think it’s safe to say the president enjoyed himself,” Metaxas said.