Kentucky Rich

by Fern Michaels

“I came here to watch you die, old man,” she said, looking her father straight in the eyes. “And I’m not leaving until I hear you draw your last breath. Only after I’ve danced on your grave will I leave. Do you hear me, old man?” She glared at him, her eyes burning with hate.

  The old man’s face became a glowering mask of rage. “Get out of my house!”

  “Still ordering people around, are you? Well guess what? I don’t have to take your orders anymore. I repeat, I came here to see you die, and I’m not leaving until you go to hell. That’s where you’re going, Pa. Hell!” There, she’d said what she’d come to say, but why didn’t she feel a bigger sense of satisfaction? Why did she feel this strange emptiness?

  “Pyne! Take this devil child away from me. Do you hear me?” the old man gasped as he struggled to raise himself up on his elbow.

  “I’d like to see him try,” Nealy said bitterly. Then she felt her brother’s hand on her shoulder again. “I’d like to see anyone try to make me do something I don’t want to do. Those days are gone forever.”

  The old man gurgled and gasped as he thrashed about in the big bed. Nealy watched him with clinical interest. Her eyes narrowed when she saw drool leak from his mouth. She stood staring at him until he calmed down, then stretched out her leg and, with a booted foot, pulled over a straight-backed chair and sat down facing the bed. For long minutes she stared at him with unblinking intensity until he finally closed his eyes.

  “Okay, he’s asleep now,” Pyne said. “What the hell are you doing here, Nealy? We haven’t heard a word from you in over thirty years, and all of a sudden you show up just as Pa is getting ready to die. How did you know? Can’t you let him die in peace?”

  Nealy removed her Stetson and rubbed her forehead. She didn’t really care all that much for hats, but she’d always longed to wear a pearly white Stetson, just like the Texans wore.

  “No, I can’t let him die in peace,” she said, her voice even now, calm. “He has to pay for what he did to me and Emmie. As to how I knew he was dying, I make it my business to know what goes on here. And you know why I’m here, Pyne. I want my share of this place for Emmie.”

  Pyne chuckled softly. “Your share? You just said you’d made it your business to know what goes on around here. So how come you don’t know that Pa refused to make a will? There hasn’t been any estate planning, Nealy. And neither Rhy nor I have power of attorney. The IRS is going to take almost all of it. Whatever’s left will be a piss in the bucket.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” Nealy said. “Call the lawyers and get them here on the double. Offer to pay them whatever they want. Just get them here. If we work fast, we can still get it all in place. As long as Pa’s still breathing, there’s a chance. Now, get on it and don’t screw up, or you’ll be out on the highway along with your brother.”

  Pyne stammered in bewilderment. “But . . . I can’t. Pa wouldn’t . . .”

  Nealy stood up, took her brother by the shoulders, and shook him. “Don’t tell me what Pa would or wouldn’t do. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dying. There’s nothing he can do to you, to any of us. Don’t you understand that?”

  Pyne Coleman stared down at his fit and expensive-looking younger sister. After all these years she was still pretty, with her dark hair and big brown eyes. Once when they were little he’d told her she looked like an angel. She’d laughed and laughed. Back then they had been close out of necessity. It was all so long ago. And now here she was, over thirty years later, just as defiant as ever and issuing orders like a general.

  Nealy suffered through her brother’s scrutiny, wondering what he was thinking. She was about to ask when Rhy stuck his head in the door. “You better come downstairs, Pyne, there’s a whole gaggle of people outside. They said they were relatives, family. I didn’t know we had a family. Do you know anything about this?”

  Pyne didn’t seem the least bit surprised. “I know a lot about it,” he said, smiling. “Pa told me about them about a month ago, right before he had his stroke.” He took Nealy’s elbow and steered her toward the door. “I’ll make you a deal. You make them welcome while I make that phone call to the lawyers.”

  Nealy jerked her arm free, went back to her father’s bedside and leaned close to him. Only when she was satisfied that he was still breathing did she follow her brothers downstairs.

  “Before I go out there and introduce myself, I want to reintroduce myself to you. In the world of Thoroughbred horse racing I’m known as Cornelia Diamond of Blue Diamond Farms in Kentucky. I own, trained, and rode Flyby, the last Triple Crown winner.”

  “You’re Cornelia Diamond!” Pyne said in awe. “But how? I mean . . .”

  “There’s no time to explain it all now,” Nealy said, heading toward the front door.

  “Wait a minute!” Rhy said. “Pa said he shook your hand after the Derby win, but he didn’t say it was you.”

  “I suspect he couldn’t see me clearly because of his cataracts. More than nine years had gone by. I was the last person he ever expected to see.”

  “You never cashed the check for the two colts you sold us.”

  “I have it right here.” She pulled the check out of her pocket and held it up so they could see it. “It bounced.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rhy said. “What are you doing here? What do you want? Revenge? The past is gone, Nealy. Let it go. Show a little compassion.”

  “The way you all showed me compassion when you told me that I’d be doing you all a favor if I just packed up and left? Do you ever think about that night, Rhy? You and Pyne sent me packing so that you’d be spared Pa’s wrath. Did you ever consider that I had nowhere to go, that I had a baby and very little money and nothing but that broken-down truck? Before that night, I had never even driven on the highway. My God, I didn’t even have a driver’s license.” She took a step toward him, her eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you and Pyne stand up to him on my behalf? Why? Because you’re cowards, that’s why. Yellow-bellied cowards. And now look at you. Look at this place, this hellhole,” she said, glancing around. “If you’d had any balls you could have made something out of yourselves and SunStar Farms.”

  Nealy walked over to the foyer, set her hat down on the telephone table, and checked her hair and makeup in the mirror. With all the skill of a seasoned actress, she put a smile on her face as she moved to open the front door.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Nealy Coleman. And you are?”

  A well-dressed elderly woman stepped forward and introduced herself. “I’m Ruby Thornton Parish. Fanny Thornton asked me to stand in for her today. We’re based in Las Vegas, Nevada. And this is Maggie Coleman Tanaka. She represents Seth, your father’s brother’s family. Their roots are in Texas. I talked to your father on the phone about a month ago and told him we were coming, but it looks like you weren’t expecting us. Is something wrong?”

  “No, it’s just that our father never mentioned any other family. I thought . . . We all thought it was just us. Come in, please, and make yourself at home.” As soon as they stepped inside, Nealy waved to the occupants of the limo. She excused herself. She had a moment of surging pride when her own little family walked toward her. “This is my beautiful daughter Emmie and my son Nick,” she said. “Emmie uses sign language.” She turned to her brothers. “These are your uncles, Pyne and Rhy. And those people you saw go inside are our long-lost relatives.”

  17

  Twenty years ago I would have given up my soul to be sitting around a kitchen table with my real family, Nealy thought. Now that it was actually happening, she didn’t quite know what to make of it all. Family or not, these people were strangers. For the moment, she would let them think she was simply a daughter who had married, moved away, and returned to visit her dying father. Later on, depending on the circumstances and her mood, she would decide whether or not to tell them she was the daughter who had had to flee her home and fend for herself and her child, the daughter who had survived and prospered in spite of everythin
g.

  These relatives of hers, she thought, all seemed quite nice, but there were questions in their eyes. Nealy had questions, too—like why had they come and what did they want?

  She glanced around the kitchen. Everything was neat and clean but aged and pathetically out-of-date. The stove was the same, but the refrigerator had been replaced. There hadn’t been a dishwasher when she lived here, and there wasn’t one now. There had never been any knickknacks or things nestled in corners and no rugs on the floor. The kitchen was as bleak and ugly as her memories of that last horrible evening when her father had come in and caught her sitting down, inhaling medicated steam from a bowl.

  She looked at her watch and saw that it was almost nine o’clock. Time to think about heading to town and the hotel.

  Nealy sat forward. “Let me see if I’ve got this right so far.” She looked across the table at Maggie Coleman Tanaka. “You are my father’s brother Seth’s granddaughter. Your father was Moss Coleman, and your mother was Billie. Sawyer and Cole are your children. You have a sister named Susan who is a concert pianist but no one seems to know where she is. Your brother Riley died in Vietnam, and Riley junior is his son.” She smiled when she said, “How am I doing?” At Maggie’s nod, she continued. “Cole lives in Japan, Riley in Texas, and you’re in Hawaii. Oh, and Sawyer lives in Hong Kong but is moving back to Texas.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Maggie confirmed. “Cary Asante and Thad Kingsley will be here tomorrow. That pretty much covers the Coleman side of the family with the exception of the children, Sawyer’s husband Adam Jarvis, my husband Henry, Cole’s wife Sumi, and Riley’s wife Ivy. Don’t fret over it. We have all the time in the world to get to know one another. My mother was here once with her husband and with Fanny Thornton. That was awhile ago, though,” Maggie said.

  Nealy blinked and looked at her brothers. What were they thinking about all of this? Like her, were they wondering what these people wanted? She wished she hadn’t come, wished she was back in Kentucky on her big front porch sipping a cup of coffee. Of one thing she was certain, her life was going to change. But for the better or the worse? A tired sigh escaped her lips.

  “And you-all are the Thorntons,” she said, looking at the people sitting and standing to her left. “Our father’s sister Sallie’s family.” She pointed to each one as she said their name. “You’re Billie, you’re Birch, and you’re Sage. Sunny is at home because she can’t travel. Fanny is in Europe with her husband number three, Marcus Reed, but is on the way back. You’re Ruby and Metaxas. Sage’s wife is Iris; Birch is divorced. We’re an incredibly large family. How is it we didn’t know about all of you before?”

  Maggie acted as spokesperson. “Why don’t we leave all the questions for tomorrow? It’s been a long day, and we’re all tired. What do you say that we plan on getting back together here tomorrow around noon? Will that be convenient for you and your brothers?”

  “It’s fine with me,” Nealy said as she glanced at her brothers.

  “Yeah, sure,” Pyne agreed.

  Rhy nodded, his action belying his expression of displeasure.

  Chairs scraped backward on the old pine floor as people got up to leave. Everyone spoke in low, respectful tones as they filed out of the kitchen.

  “I’m going upstairs to check on Pa,” Nealy said to Pyne, who was holding the door open for the departing guests. “See everyone to their cars, will you?” She was about to head upstairs when out of the corner of her eye she saw Ruby staring at her. For some unexplained reason she felt compelled to go over to her. “Is there anything I can get for you or do for you, Ruby?”

  Ruby’s mouth was as pale as her cheeks. “Thank you for asking, Nealy, but no. We’ll talk tomorrow. Just so you know though, Maggie was wrong, we don’t have all the time in the world to get to know each other. At least I don’t.” She smiled then, and said, “I do have tomorrow, though.” She squeezed Nealy’s hand before dashing out the door. “Here I am, Metaxas. I’m coming. I just don’t want to be rushed. It isn’t that often I get to meet family. Good night, everyone,” she called, waving. “See you all tomorrow.”

  Nealy stared after Ruby’s retreating back, wondering what she’d meant, hoping it wasn’t what she thought. She was about to go upstairs when she saw Emmie standing on the bottom step looking upward. “Do you want to go up and see your grandfather?” Emmie nodded and headed up the steps. In the second-floor hallway, Nealy reached for her daughter’s arm to stop her. “You remember this place, don’t you?” At Emmie’s nod, she said, “I didn’t think you would. You were so little back then. You don’t have to go into the room if you don’t want to. You can stay out here in the hallway or in the doorway. It’s your choice, Emmie.”

  Is he really going to die? Emmie asked, her fingers signing.

  “Yes. I don’t know exactly when, but soon.”

  Are you sure, Mama? Are you really sure?

  “Yes, honey, I’m sure.” She turned her daughter around and took her back to the top of the stairs. “Go down and stay with Nick. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  Nealy walked into her father’s room and shut the door. The room smelled worse than it had earlier. At eleven o’clock, the night nurse would come and at seven tomorrow morning she would be relieved by the day nurse. The second day-shift nurse had called in sick.

  Nealy could tell her father was awake by the way his gaze ricocheted around the room. He was probably hoping someone else was in the room besides just her. “I thought you’d want to know that your brother’s and sister’s families are here. A woman named Maggie said some of them had been here before and that they brought family photo albums for you to see. You never mentioned us having any family. Why is that?” She paused, waiting for him to answer.

  “None of your business,” he said in a voice so low she had to lean toward him to hear.

  “Actually, I’m thinking it’s because you were afraid we’d hightail it out of here. Pyne and Rhy hate you as much as I do, you know.” She watched the play of emotions in his eyes and on his face. “We’ve got a little business matter to settle, you and me. It’s about those two colts you bought from Blue Diamond Farms. It seems you forgot to pay me for them. But, of course, you didn’t really forget, did you?” She hunkered down next to the side of the bed and looked at him on his own level. “If you thought you were getting away with something, think again. I had my lawyer slap a lien on SunStar Farms.” She found joyous satisfaction in hearing him gasp. “It’s just occurred to me that I was wrong thinking you didn’t recognize me that day at the Derby. You did, and you hid it from me. You are one black-hearted, motherfucking son of a bitch, Pa. But you know what? I outsmarted you, old man. SunStar Farms will come to me and my daughter in the end. After I take the horses, I’ll burn this place down to the ground. Then I’ll rebuild it for Pyne and Rhy.” Nealy saw the fear in her father’s eyes and realized that the threats she had no intention of carrying out were having the desired effect. “You’re drooling again, Pa.” She clucked her tongue to show what she thought of that. “Why, I think you’re afraid of me. That’s good. How does it feel? Awful, huh? You don’t know what’s going to happen next. You almost want to die, but you’re afraid to do that, too. Right now you’re hoping I’ll just disappear. Well, you can forget that unless . . . you tell me what I want to know.” She clamped her mouth shut.

  Nealy sat on the edge of the bed and picked imaginary lint off her pants. “You know I could make all this unpleasantness go away,” she said in a nonchalant tone that belied her inner turmoil. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go downstairs and call my lawyer and tell him to cancel the lien, and then I’ll take my kids and leave . . . if . . . you tell me one thing: why you hated me so much.”

  The silence that followed loomed between them like a heavy fog. She clenched her jaw to kill the sob in her throat. “All I ever did was work my ass off for you. From sunup to sundown. I never whined, and I damn well never cried. I said, ‘yes Pa, no Pa.’ I never asked for a thi
ng. Never once. Then I made a mistake. I looked for somebody to love me. I was young, and I thought sex was love. I want you to go to your grave knowing Dillon Roland is Emmie’s father. I’m going to get that son of a bitch, too. Your good friend, Cyrus Roland’s son, told me he’d blow my head off if I ever told anyone that he had fathered Emmie.” She pressed her hand against the mattress and leaned toward him. “You listening, Pa? This is your chance. Tell me why you hated me. And don’t pretend that you can’t talk because I heard you before, remember?” She waited, but when he didn’t say anything, she got up. “You had your chance, and now the offer is off the table. I’m going downstairs now, and if you’re lucky, you’ll be dead in the morning when I get back here. And if you’re not, I’m going to make your every waking moment a living hell.”

  Out in the hall, with the door closed behind her, Nealy burst into tears. She leaned against the wall, then slid down to her haunches. She cried for the would-haves, could-haves, and should-haves.

  A long time later, outside in the moonlight, Nealy turned to stare at the house she’d been born in. Nick was at her side. “I always thought this house looked like the one in Gone With the Wind. You know, Tara. The Thorntons own a mountain and huge gambling casinos. Isn’t that amazing, Nick? And the Colemans own the biggest cattle ranch in the state of Texas. They’re into electronics, aviation, and all kinds of things. They’re diversified.”

  “Are you trying to compare net worths here, Ma? If you are, I think you have a definite edge. Why didn’t you tell them who you are? You let them think that you’re as pathetic as your brothers. Why didn’t you say anything? I need to understand, Ma.”

  Nealy wasn’t sure how she should respond to her son. “I was . . . I don’t know. For one thing I was overwhelmed, and for another, that’s not the kind of person I am. I’ve never been out to impress anybody with money or things. Maybe I’ll say something to them tomorrow after I find out what they want. Is Emmie okay?”