The First Wife

by Diana Diamond

  William’s jaw tightened. “No, they’ll be eating with us.” He started for the stairs.

  “Bill,” Jane called after him, and went to the bottom step, where he had paused. “Meeting me is probably very awkward for them. Maybe they should pick the time and place.”

  “Don’t be silly! They’re dying to meet you. They probably don’t know that we’ve arrived.”

  She looked after him as he ran up the stairs, wondering how his children could have missed the arrival of a helicopter. In truth, she was the one feeling awkward. The thought of making conversation with two unknown teenagers throughout dinner made her ill.

  As she predicted, the dinner went badly. Cassie and Craig presented themselves with all the propriety and dignity that boarding schools can instill. But their demeanor was bored and their responses surly.

  “Delicious, isn’t it?” Jane said at her first taste of the dinner, giving them an opportunity to comment on something of little importance.

  “It’s a duck,” Craig deadpanned.

  She tried Cassie. “What lovely pearls,” she complimented, looking at the string that hung around the young woman’s neck.

  “They’re fake,” Cassie said. And then she added for her father’s benefit that “all the kids at school can tell they’re not real.”

  William tried to ride to the rescue. “How’s the baseball team shaping up?” he asked his son.

  “I don’t play baseball,” Craig answered in a bored tone.

  Andrews grimaced. “I thought you were hoping to play shortstop?”

  Craig tried to pile his string beans like a cord of wood. “That was last year,” he mumbled.

  Craig and Cassie went at each other when the dessert was served. Cassie demanded a calorie count before she would even taste the custard. “You know I’m trying to lose weight,” she scolded Agnes. Craig commented that she’d have to try harder because she had the figure of a pear. Cassie responded with the charge that Craig was still bald below the belt, and the family bonding went downhill from there.

  After the children left the table, Andrews sat staring into his coffee. Jane stayed at the table, directly across from him but trying desperately to make herself invisible. Agnes removed the dishes without making a sound. The silence was deafening.

  “That wasn’t the meeting that I had in mind,” he finally said without looking up.

  “They’re … at a tough age,” she answered, trying to assure him that he wasn’t entirely to blame for their behavior. “I have nieces and nephews who—”

  “They need a mother,” he interrupted.

  Not me, buddy boy, Jane thought. But she said, “They’ve suffered a terrible shock.”

  She assented when he asked if she would like to take a walk out to the barn to see the horses. Anything would have been an improvement over the grim mood inside the house. “They’re equestrian mounts,” he said as they walked across an open pasture. “Kay loved the animals, and she was very involved in competitive riding.”

  “When did you get into it?” she asked, not remembering anything in her research that would put William Andrews in the saddle.

  “Me? I’m not into horses. I’m a city kid.” He laughed. “Horses were something you bet on when I was growing up.” But then he went on to explain that Kay had had grooms and pasturing arrangements and stud deals. He had kept everything in place, counting on the integrity of Kay’s agents and simply paying the bills. “I go riding once in a while,” he admitted. “I figure an hour in the saddle costs me about a million dollars.”

  Jane had not been prepared for the beauty of the horses, or the effect they had on her. They went to her immediately and nuzzled her hand to get the sugar that William had provided. They seemed to look directly into her eyes as if taking her measure. And they apparently decided that she was no threat.

  “Would you like to go riding in the morning? We ride out to the Delaware River. Burt drives out ahead so that we have breakfast waiting.”

  “I don’t ride,” she said more definitively than she intended.

  “Not at all?”

  “Oh, I’ve been on horses. But just old cart horses that hardly lifted their feet. Nothing as spirited as these.”

  “We’re in no hurry,” he assured her. “If you want, Burt can set up breakfast at the corner of the property and we can take all morning getting there.”

  She tipped her head toward the animals that were licking her hands in the hunt for more treats. “Won’t they mind? Won’t they know that I’m no horsewoman?”

  “Jane, don’t be silly. They don’t even know that they’re horses. And I’ll keep you between me and Cassie so that if the mount tries to get frisky, we’ll be able to quiet him down.”

  She weighed her alternatives. Refuse outright and she might break the budding relationship. Agree to ride a horse and she might break her neck. “Sure,” she said. “Maybe it’s something you remember, like riding a bicycle.”

  It wasn’t. In the morning the horse kept shifting and turning as she tried to mount it. She made three false tries at the stirrup and then let Bill cup his hands to boost her aboard. Once she was up she sat as gingerly as if she were astride a bomb.

  It didn’t help that Cassie and Craig kept exchanging jokes behind the back of their hands. She thought it was her attire—jeans, hiking boots, and a light sweater—topped by a helmet that tipped down over her eyes. But then she decided that it was her posture. She was slouched forward, ready to wrap her arms around the animal’s neck at the first sign of trouble.

  Bill slid open the barn door. Craig nudged his horse out, guiding it easily. Cassie seemed only to flex her knees, and her horse stepped out as if it had a written set of instructions. Jane clicked her tongue and dug in her heels. Her horse ignored her completely. Andrews took the bridle and led her out along with his horse. Then he mounted.

  “Under the big oak,” he said to his children.

  “That’s all,” Craig pouted. “I can get there in two minutes. Then what am I supposed to do?”

  “We’ll just walk over,” William answered. “Jane hasn’t been on a horse in years, and she isn’t up for a race.”

  Jane laughed. “Sorry,” she told Craig. “I’m just hoping that this horse won’t bounce too much. Galloping, or bounding over fences, is out of the question.”

  “My mother won ribbons,” Cassie said, ensuring that Jane knew exactly what they expected in a replacement.

  “I may need them as bandages,” she answered. “Did she win anything I could use as a tourniquet?”

  Cassie sneered. “Let’s go,” she said to her brother. They both jerked forward and spurred their mounts. They were at a gallop within two strides.

  “We’ll just take our time,” Andrews said, noticing the death grip that she had on the reins.

  “Lots of time. I have no plans for beating your kids to breakfast.”

  She was amazed at how pleasant it was. They rode side by side, the horses perfectly content with the slow pace. Andrews struck a few cowboy poses, looking over his land with a sense of mastery, as if he could make the soil sprout. He pointed out trees and rock outcrop-pings that defined the borders of his land.

  “You like this, don’t you?” she said, surprised to see his pastoral side.

  “Now and then,” he answered. “It’s a nice break from business. But I sure as hell couldn’t do this every day.”

  They chatted easily. He had no difficulty in recounting how Kay had found the land and fenced the pastures. He pointed out the corral where the training jumps were still in place. “She was out here every chance she got, usually with her riding friends. But she had a lot of constituencies that kept her traveling. There were yachting friends and partying friends, South American friends and European friends. She didn’t have as much time out here as she would have liked. But she trained most of the horses she rode.”

  The children, he went on, loved to ride with her. “Of course, they weren’t into their hormones yet. They were sti
ll pleasant and polite. They loved it when she showed them how to take the low jumps. I think it would have helped if she had had more time with them. I’ve tried every now and then to get them into activities where I might be able to show them something. I’m a fair skier and a damn good sailor. But they’ve never been interested.”

  Jane tried to be consoling. Their interests were bound to change. “They’ll meet friends who are into skiing, and then you’ll be the family hero. The first time some stud asks Cassie to go sailing, you’ll be the father she’s always adored.” He seemed to be in a better mood when they reached the campsite, where Agnes was cooking eggs.

  They weren’t roughing it. There was a safari table with folding chairs, a brick-walled grill, a plastic jug of water, a Thermos of steaming coffee, plastic plates and tableware. The pickup truck that had carried all the gear out to the campsite, and would take everything back to the house, was parked discreetly behind a stand of trees.

  Cassie and Craig had already finished their breakfast and were arguing about their race from the house. As soon as Jane and their father appeared, they pushed back from the table.

  “About time,” Cassie said. “We’d have starved to death if we waited for you.”

  “I’ll race you back,” Craig challenged.

  “Sit down!” Andrews barked.

  The children seemed stunned that someone should give them a direct order. “We’re finished,” Cassie snapped back.

  “You’re not finished until I’m finished,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. “And I haven’t even started.”

  “So we’re just supposed to sit here and watch you eat,” Craig complained.

  William forced a smile. “No, we’re supposed to chat over breakfast. I have a whole weekend and I’d like for us to make some plans.” He held a chair for Jane and then settled in beside her. “Why don’t you start, Cassie? What would you like to do today?”

  Defeated, the young lady slumped into the chair she had just abandoned. “Jesus …” she mumbled under her breath.

  Jane found the next twenty minutes actually painful. William Andrews nearly contorted himself trying to nurture a bit of conversation with his children. Cassie and Craig contributed only mumbles and an occasional “that sucks” or “big deal” in response to a specific suggestion. There was a momentary flash of light in Craig’s eye when Jane suggested that they might try the whitewater rafting in the Delaware River. But Cassie squelched the idea with “The Delaware isn’t even a puddle compared with the Colorado. It dries up in the summer.”

  “Well,” Jane persisted, “it’s a lot closer! And I’m new at this. It may be all the river I can handle.”

  “Are you better at rafting than you are at riding?” Craig asked.

  “No. I haven’t done either in a long time.”

  “You’d probably drown,” he decided.

  “I suppose,” Jane concluded, and went back to her eggs.

  Craig slouched with his chin in his hands. Cassie drummed her fingers. Andrews ate in silence.

  “We’re all riding back together,” he announced when the children finally bounded from the table and started for their horses.

  Craig wailed in protest, “It will take forever.” Cassie just rolled her eyes. They went over to the fallen tree where all the horses were tethered.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrews said to Jane without looking at her. “This wasn’t a very good idea.” Then he hastened to correct himself. “I don’t mean bringing you. I’m thrilled that you’re here. I mean trying to create a family moment. I guess I’m not used to dealing with people that I can’t fire.”

  “I’m the problem,” she insisted. “Any woman you bring here is a threat to their memory of their mother. They don’t like to think of you with anyone but her.” She stopped there even though her analysis wasn’t nearly finished. She wanted to add that a few years in a public school might do wonders for their humility. They would be amazed to learn that not all their classmates owned horses and that some of them had never been rafting on the Colorado River. At some future moment, she might even suggest that he cut their allowances.

  She did a better job of mounting this time and tried to sit with the casual demeanor of the children. She relaxed her grip on the reins and opened her legs a bit to keep from crushing her horse between her knees. Then she did her best imitation of Bill’s gaze at the far-off reaches of his spread. They moved off slowly, with Jane and Andrews side by side and the sulking children a short distance behind.

  “Maybe you should let them ride ahead,” Jane said. “I hate to be the one slowing them down.”

  He nodded. “In a minute. I’d like to hear at least one civil, polite word from either of them.”

  Jane’s horse suddenly reared up. She had to lean forward and wrap an arm around its neck to keep from falling backwards. Then it bucked, bouncing her into the air so that her feet flew out of the stirrups. She landed hard on the saddle as the animal broke into a gallop. She was moving with frightening speed, struggling to stay on so the thundering hooves wouldn’t slaughter her.

  12

  As the horse raced across the field, Jane could see the house straight ahead. But she knew she would never make it. She was still in the saddle, leaning forward on the horse’s neck like a jockey in the homestretch. Her fingers had found the harness, so she had something to hold on to. But her feet were nowhere near the stirrups, and her legs had no grip on the animal’s flanks. She was tossing about furiously from side to side, threatening to bounce off at any moment. She felt herself slipping to one side. With each stride there was a new jolt, and with each jolt she was bouncing farther to her right. She was no longer atop the saddle but more to one side. Only the grip she had around the neck and a foot hooked under the edge of the saddle were keeping her on the horse.

  Her shifting weight meant that she was tugging harder and harder on one side of the harness. As the horse snapped its head back to the front, the leather strap nearly pulled free. Jane knew that if she lost that grip, she would roll around to the horse’s belly and then under the pounding hooves. Somehow she had to throw herself clear, but that seemed equally dangerous. If she just pushed off, she might still get kicked. And even if she cleared the horse’s legs, she would be left flying through the air toward a headfirst landing.

  Could she stop the horse? She had lost the reins, but she still had a grip on the harness. If she pulled it back, she might also pull back the bit. Wouldn’t that make the horse stop? Or would it just make the animal madder? She didn’t know, but she had to try something. Another few strides and she would fall.

  A hand flashed by her eyes and snatched the harness. She turned her head for an instant and saw that another horse was racing beside her. Another glance identified Craig, who was leaning out of his saddle and holding on to her horse’s harness. Just as important, he was pressing against her, keeping her from sliding any farther.

  “Whoa!” a voice screamed from the other side. Across the flying mane she saw Bill alongside, reaching over to take the other side of the harness. Then she was pinched in from both sides. Strong hands were pulling back on the reins. The three horses came to a dead stop.

  Jane slid directly forward, right over the top of the horse’s head. She held on to the harness with a death grip while her feet flew up over her head. She looped through the air, her feet coming around to take the impact of her fall. But her upper body kept traveling until she saw the ground rushing up toward her. She got her hands up in the fraction of a second it took to complete her flip and skidded on her knees and elbows. She was still fully conscious when she came to a stop. Andrews dove down next to her.

  “Don’t move! Don’t try to move anything.”

  Jane couldn’t answer. Her breath had been knocked out and she was sucking desperately for air.

  He took her hand. “Can you feel my hand?” She still had no air to form words, but she did manage a jerky nod. “How about here?” He was holding her ankle. Again she answered with a nod.
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  He stared into her eyes. “You’re focused,” he told her. Then he added, “That’s great. Everything seems to be all right.” Then he wheeled to his daughter, who was still on horseback. “Ride back to the camp and get Burt here with the truck.”

  Jane tried to pull her knees and elbows under her. “Don’t move,” Andrews snapped. “Lie perfectly still.”

  “I’m okay,” she told him.

  “We’ll get you to a doctor,” he responded.

  Jane pushed herself up on all fours. “I’m all right. Just a bit shaken up. Let me try to walk it off.”

  His expression was skeptical as he helped her to her feet. She stood unsteadily in his embrace. Over his shoulder, she caught sight of Craig, who was holding the three horses. “Thanks,” she said. “I couldn’t have held on for another second.”

  “You did okay,” he allowed. He involved himself with the mounts so that he wouldn’t have to elaborate. Then the pickup came bouncing out into the field.

  Andrews helped her into the master bedroom and began filling the Jacuzzi. He left her with Agnes while he went for a scotch, and knocked politely before entering with her drink. She was in the tub with the water bubbling up around her, seeming none the worse for her ordeal.

  “This should help,” he said, holding the drink at arm’s length so that he wasn’t looking down at her.

  “It’s still morning,” Jane reminded him. “Maybe a couple of aspirin would be better.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” He rushed out the door, leaving the drink on the bathroom sink. Seconds later he was back with a handful of pills and a glass of water. He polished off the scotch while she downed the pills.

  The damage was slight. Her knees and elbows were skinned and there was a dull ache across her shoulders. She was able to dress by herself and emerge from her room in time for lunch. She heard William and his children at the table before she entered the room.

  “We didn’t do anything,” Cassie was insisting.

  “She just doesn’t know how to ride a horse,” Craig added.