Kentucky Heat

by Fern Michaels

  “Now we have to work on you,” Smitty said.

  “I’m happy.”

  Smitty snorted. “That’s what your mother always used to say. She lied.”

  Emmie grimaced as she turned to leave the kitchen, coffee cup in hand.

  Smitty watched the young woman lope her way down to the barn. “Honey, you have no idea just how much like your mother you really are. You don’t have a clue.”

  PART III

  15

  Miles away, at Sunbridge Ranch in Texas, Riley Coleman sat staring at his cousin Cole, a stack of ledgers and financial reports in front of him. He stared at them with glee in his eyes. “See this,” he said to Cole. “This is a record of the money we owe Nealy Clay. This,” he said, waving a paper in the air, “is the current bank statement. It’s time we paid her back.”

  Cole bit into a thick roast beef sandwich, then washed it down with a swig from a bottle of Sapporo beer. “Doesn’t it seem a little strange to you, Riley, that we’ll be paying her back with monies we won placing bets on her in Vegas?”

  Riley threw his hands in the air. “Money is money. Hell, half the world probably bet on those three races she ran. However, the payback money is coming from the first gusher we brought in last year. You invested it, Cole. It’s all there. You’ve been investing our winnings from those races these past few months. I know it’s just six months since the last race, but when you invest millions and your return is eighteen percent, I’d say that’s pretty good. We talked about this until we were blue in the face, Cole. We agreed not to touch the principal. It’s there as a reminder to both of us. The day may come when we’re called on to help a member of the family the way Nealy Clay helped us. I hate talking about this because it forces me to remember what assholes we were. We’re on steady ground now. We all bit the bullet and you turned Rising Sun around in a little over two years. We brought in two gushers and a third is on the way. We have a magnificent herd of cattle, the drought is over, and we have a reserve in the bank. We paid off Sawyer and your aunt Maggie. Forget the fact that I no longer know what a night’s sleep means.”

  “So what’s our game plan here?” Cole uncapped a second bottle of Sapporo, his favorite Japanese beer.

  Cole waved Nealy Clay’s wedding invitation in the air. “By the grace of God, and Nealy Clay, we turned it around. It’s not something you or I will ever forget. There was a point there when I just wanted to lie down and die.”

  “I was right there with you, Riley,” Cole said. “Send her a cashier’s check and a handwritten thank-you.” He twirled the beer bottle around and around on the kitchen table. “So,” he said, looking around, “will Ivy and Moss be back for Christmas?”

  “It depends on Ivy’s mother, who isn’t doing as well as they expected after her hip replacement. Ivy feels she has to stay there with her mother. I was going to fly down for Christmas Day and then fly on to Kentucky for the wedding. What about you, Cole?”

  “I’m heading back to Japan tomorrow night. I’ll fly over for the wedding. I’m not sure about Sumi and the kids. She is petrified to fly, so that’s the hang-up. She always insists we take separate flights and I can say for certainty she won’t allow the kids to fly.” He shrugged. “Sawyer and Adam are going and so is Mother. This side of the family will be represented. We can either pay her before the wedding or send the check to her attorney. My own personal opinion is we should do it before. I’d kind of like to thank her face-to-face and shake her hand.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. You must have been stunned when you heard her voice on the phone. How did you handle it?”

  “Very carefully. That plant over the sink needs watering, Riley. Ivy will be pissed if you let it die. Sumi is like that, so I know.”

  Riley got up from the table to rummage under the sink for the watering can his wife always used. He watered the plant. “I really took care of this plant when she left me that first time. It was like it was a sacred trust or something. When Ivy came back her first words were, ‘Good, you didn’t let my plants die.’ ”

  “Women are like that. What do you say we wash up and head for town. I could use some good Japanese food about now.”

  “You’re on, cousin.”

  Hatch Littletree stared around at weary travelers as they waited for their luggage to appear. Almost all of them carried straw hats, colorful shopping bags, and gaudy jewelry attesting to their vacation in the islands. The red dome light above the carousel flashed and beeped as the first bag made its way up the ramp and down onto the conveyor belt. He reached for Nealy’s hand and smiled down at her when he saw one of his bags tumble out of the top opening. Passengers pushed and shoved as they elbowed their way through the crowd of waiting travelers to reach for their bags. He sighed. He couldn’t remember ever being as happy as he was right then.

  Nealy shifted her shoulder bag to her right shoulder, at the same time kicking her travel bag between her feet. “I wish you were coming with me, Hatch.”

  Hatch shoved his baseball cap farther back on his head as he scanned the bags passing before him. “It’s just two days, Nealy. There’s a bunch of stuff I have to sign off on. I’ll be back before you know it. We have to start off clean with no trailing baggage that’s going to make us worry. When we leave on our honeymoon, I want both of us to be as free as the wind. No clocks, no timetables, no telephones except one cell phone for emergencies. Two days, tops.” Nealy nodded.

  “I’m glad we’re home. The last leg of the flight was really frightening with all that turbulence. The weather outside looks . . . ominous. Promise me you’ll call as soon as you set down in Santa Fe. Promise, Hatch.”

  Hatch reached for a large black-leather bag, at the same time nodding to a porter. “I promise. I’ll see you to your cab, and then I have to take off.” He grinned. “We started out with one bag each six months ago and we’re returning with seven, counting our carry-on luggage.”

  “Presents, souvenirs. We covered a lot of territory in the past months. I had to buy presents from each place. Not to mention the stuff we bought for ourselves that we’ll probably never use.” Nealy reached for his arm as they trailed behind the porter to head for the taxi stand. She shivered inside her light windbreaker.

  Hatch draped his arm around her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Nealy?” He followed her gaze as she looked around, a frown building on her face. He, too, shivered in the brisk air.

  Nealy shrugged as she settled the straw hat she’d bought in Hawaii more firmly on her head. “There’s a storm brewing. I can almost taste it. Look at the sky, Hatch.”

  “I’ll be flying above it, Nealy. Or is it the horses you’re worried about? Don’t go spooking me now.”

  “Both, Hatch. The only word I can think of is ominous . Maybe I’m just tired. Go ahead, I’ll be fine. Make sure you call me as soon as you set down.”

  Hatch settled Nealy in the backseat of the taxi. He leaned over to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Five days and you’ll be Mrs. Littletree.” He grinned, and Nealy smiled. For one brief moment she forgot about the strange-looking sky overhead. She watched until Hatch’s long-legged stride took him out of her line of vision.

  Nealy settled herself into the corner seat of the cab, grateful for the humming heater. She was also grateful that the driver wasn’t in a talkative mood.

  A chill washed through her. She felt frightened and she didn’t know why. Was she having a premonition of some kind? She wished the taxi could sprout wings and soar away to drop her by the front porch of Blue Diamond Farms. She wished for so many things of late. Maud had done the same thing in the later years of her life. Damn, where were these strange thoughts taking her?

  She’d been so happy these past months. Almost too happy. Maybe that was the problem. At one time she thought she could never be happy anywhere but at the farm. Now she knew that was a myth. She’d been joyously happy with Hatch. And while she thought about the farm and the horses, she hadn’t been consumed by those thoughts. She had Hatch. Hatch
made all the difference.

  Nealy continued to stare out the taxi window at the scudding clouds overhead. Not only did it still look ominous, but it felt ominous. Damn it, what was it? She’d experienced storms before. Terrible storms, wicked storms, god-awful storms. It was cold enough for snow. Maybe that was it. A white Christmas. A white wedding.

  Her whole body started to shake. She curled into herself, fighting the urge to cry, not understanding where such odd feelings were coming from.

  She saw the entrance then. “This is it,” she told the cab driver as he pulled into the farm’s driveway a long time later. She sighed in relief at the majesty of Flyby and the copper glory of Shufly standing guard over the entrance to Blue Diamond Farms. Such majesty, such glory, such presence. She sighed again, grateful that she was finally home.

  The urge to bolt from the taxi and run the rest of the way to the house was so strong that Nealy found herself clutching at the door handle.

  The moment the taxi came to a full stop her family appeared. She saw it all in one glance—her daughter’s happy face, Gabby’s chubby legs pumping furiously, Smitty’s ear-to-ear grin, and Dover and the grooms waving. But the dark, swirling clouds overhead still bothered her. She held out her arms, her laughter forced, words tumbling from her mouth in short little bursts. Somehow, between hugs and smiles she managed to ask, “What’s with the weather? It looks kind of scary.”

  Emmie and Smitty both shrugged. Gabby hung on for dear life as Nealy pretended to be a horse and galloped up the steps and into the house. “I could use a good cup of coffee. I really missed our coffee,” Nealy said. “I really missed this place. No, that’s not quite true. I thought about it a lot. Actually, I didn’t miss it as much as I thought I would. I just love this kitchen. Kitchens mean home. No matter how nice a hotel or suite is, it isn’t home.”

  “I’ll be down in a minute, Mom. It’s Gabby’s nap time. Actually, it’s past her nap time, but I let her stay up so she could greet you.” Emmie scooped up the squealing toddler and started for the stairs.

  Nealy smiled as she opened her travel bag. “This is for Cookie, so he has a friend,” she said, presenting a small, white, stuffed dog. “And this is for you, Gabby,” she said, holding out a small island-made rag doll. “Her name is Mary Lou. See, her name is stitched on her dress. Sweet dreams, Gabby. I’ll give you the rest of your presents when you wake up.” She ruffled the toddler’s curls as she kissed and hugged her.

  “Did you miss me, Smitty?” Nealy asked as she reached for the cup of coffee Smitty held out to her. She sank down gratefully into her favorite kitchen chair. The same chair Maud always used to sit in. “I feel in some ways like I’ve been gone forever. So, Smitty, did you miss me?” she repeated.

  “Who had time to miss you?” Smitty said, tongue in cheek. “As you can see, nothing has changed. Somehow or other we managed to muddle through without you. Of course we missed you, Nealy. Ruby and Metaxas will be back Christmas Eve. They take possession of the Owens farm on January 2. Damn, I mean the Goldberg farm. Metaxas had some loose ends he said he needed to tie up before he became a farm owner full-time. The Goldbergs moved up North at the end of October. The whole place is just sitting there empty waiting for Ruby and Metaxas.”

  Nealy tried to stay focused, tried to pay attention to what Smitty was saying. “I don’t like this weather, Smitty. It feels . . . deadly. I know that’s a strong word, but that’s how it feels to me. What are they saying on the weather station?”

  Smitty poured more coffee into her cup. “About what you would expect. A bad storm later today. Nothing out of the ordinary. What’s got you so skittish?”

  Nealy got up to stand before the kitchen window. “Maybe it’s just being home again after being gone so long. Maybe I’m tired. In all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never seen a sky that looks like this one does. Summer and fall were so dry everything was brittle. When we landed, it was really cold. By the time I got here, the temperature must have gone up ten or fifteen degrees. When we landed, it felt like snow. Now the air just feels thick. To me that means thunder and lightning but not necessarily rain. I don’t like what I’m feeling right now. Make some more coffee, okay? I want to change and go down to the barn.”

  Emmie bounded down the kitchen stairway. “I’m glad you’re home, Mom. I really missed you. Ah, coffee. I am my mother’s daughter,” Emmie said as she poured coffee into a thermal container. “I gotta get back to the barn. This weather has the horses spooked. Boy are they going to be glad to see you, Mom.”

  “I’ll meet you down in the barn. I want to change,” Nealy said.

  It was almost pitch-black outside when Nealy strode across the kitchen, grabbing her coffee and bolting down to the barn. She looked around; all the sensor lights were blazing. It was even warmer now than it had been when she’d climbed out of the taxi an hour ago. What did it mean? A hurricane? In December? Impossible. Tornado? A definite possibility. A gust of wind slammed into her back, forcing her to run the rest of the way to the barn.

  The horses were uneasy, skittish. She headed straight for Flyby’s stall, where she nuzzled the big horse, her face dreamy as she let her hands caress the animal. “I’m here, baby. I’m here. Nothing is going to happen to you.” She turned at a sound. Shufly. “Hey, big guy, how’s it going? Missed me, huh,” she said, doing the same thing to him she’d done to his daddy. “You’re lookin’ good, baby. Guess Metaxas is taking good care of you. Okay, okay, here we go,” she said, holding out a handful of mints. She filled her other hand and held them out to Flyby.

  Her gaze swept the stallion barn. The grooms and workers were doing double duty trying to calm the skittish horses. Every single light in the barn blazed. Outside it seemed darker—if that was possible. She looked down at her watch—3:25. It was way too early for darkness to fall.

  Nealy ran to the tack room and turned on the portable radio. She couldn’t hear anything but static.

  “Mom?”

  “Emmie, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know, Mom. I feel something. I think I’m starting to get scared. I’ve never seen anything like this. It isn’t even three-thirty, and it’s black as tar outside. I’m so glad you’re home.” Relief rang in her voice.

  “Me, too, honey. We need to keep the horses calm. Are you okay being down here with Gabby sleeping up at the house?”

  “Sure. Smitty dotes on her. She can tell to the second when Gabby wakes up. Then, again, it could have something to do with Cookie barking. She’s fine. Smitty is like a second grandmother to her. It sure did get warm.” To prove her point, Emmie removed her flannel shirt. She yanked at the neck band of the white tee shirt as she stretched her neck. “Is something going to happen, Mom?”

  “I don’t know, Emmie. All we can do is keep the horses calm and wait it out. Whatever it turns out to be.”

  “I can’t believe those cameramen are out there filming. The past few days they’ve been working around the clock. Tomorrow or the day after, you have to sit down with them and do some background stuff. Mitch said they want some insight on you.”

  “Mitch, is it?”

  “We’ve gotten to be good friends. Don’t look at me like that. We’re just friends, Mom. The whole crew has been real good about listening to me. They understand the horses come first. When I say no to something, they back off. Mitch says it’s going to be good enough to be up for an Academy Award. Can you imagine, Mom?”

  “No, Emmie, I can’t imagine it. Right now all I can think about is this storm.”

  Ruby Parish stepped out onto the lanai of her island estate. She felt jittery and out of sorts. She looked down at her bare feet. They seemed wider to her these days. Maybe it had something to do with the hard leather boots she’d been wearing for the past couple of years. She’d always had nice feet when she was younger. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a pedicure or had bought sexy sandals. Not that it mattered. She plucked a vibrant hibiscus bloom from the bush nearest her and stuck it
behind her ear.

  “That flower is almost as pretty as you,” Metaxas said, wrapping his arms around his wife. “You seem pensive. Is something wrong, sweet baby?” The concern in her husband’s voice startled Ruby.

  “I’m not sure, honey. Do you remember that time we took off in the snowstorm to find Sunny and Harry? I called you because the chickens were restless. I had such an awful feeling that night. I knew something was wrong. I don’t know if it was a female thing or not. I just knew something was wrong. I had that same feeling again when Fanny Thornton’s mountain was on fire. That’s the kind of feeling I have right now. I’m thinking it has something to do with Nealy. She and Hatch are due back today. I’m sorry I can’t explain it any better than that, Metaxas.”

  “That’s good enough for me.” Metaxas had the portable phone in his hand and was dialing Blue Diamond Farms before his wife could finish speaking. His face ashen, he said, “The lines are down. Get your shoes on, sweet baby, we’re outta here.”

  Minutes later, Ruby fiddled with the dial of the car radio as Metaxas guided the open-air Jeep up one hill, down another, and around hairpin turns. “They’re saying it’s some kind of unexplained freak storm that was spawned in the Gulf. It already ripped up through Alabama and Tennessee and is now headed straight for Kentucky. The announcer clarified it and said it is headed straight for Kentucky’s horse country. So far there have been nine tornados, but they haven’t been able to calculate the loss of lives yet. This storm just keeps getting stronger and stronger. They say the lightning is the worst that’s ever been documented. They’re calling it the storm of the century, honey. We can’t possibly fly in this kind of weather. They won’t let you off the ground. They won’t even let you file a flight plan.”