by Judith Lucci
“No, that’s about it. Be sure everything it perfect,” Stark warned. “This is our last trip out there. We’re out of time.”
“OK,” Yassar answered as he moved his load of shrapnel behind the tree line. “Everything will be perfect, I promise you, in the name of Allah,” he replied, his voice almost friendly.
Stark was puzzled by Yassar’s change of attitude. I’m going out there and check after him. We’ve come too far to mess this up now.
If Yassar tried to sabotage the mission, Stark would kill him. What was the worst thing the jihadi could do? Kill him? At this point, it really didn’t matter. It would take them a long time to find him and by then, who knew where he might be. Helen's mother would take care of Haley in the event the child lost both of her parents. He also knew his wife’s days were numbered. The medicine he’d sold his soul for couldn’t work much longer. Helen had barely responded to the last round of chemotherapy. He wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to stay warm and continued to plot against the man who had just killed his good friend for no reason.
Hs heart was heavy. Would the day ever end?
Chapter 12
Alex put Belle out of her mind as she trudged through the snow toward the barn. Is that a string of Christmas lights?
There was a string of Christmas lights lying in the snow about 50 yards away. She smiled to herself. Joe must be trying to light up the fields for the party. I’m gonna tease him about this.
She entered the horse barn and was soothed. The smell of hay, leather, sweet feed, and dung calmed her soul. As she combed Dundee’s mane, she gave him a kiss on his muzzle and whispered, “I wish I had followed my childhood dream and become an artist and a horse trainer. I am never happier than when I am in this barn with you.” Dundee replied with a small whinny and nuzzled closer to her.
When Alex’s was a girl, she and the horse were virtually inseparable. Alex’s grandfather had always been afraid that somehow Alex would fit Dundee into her bedroom. Instead, Alex’s childhood bedroom was filled with shelf after shelf of ribbons and trophies she had won in horse competitions. She’d loved horses since she had been able to walk and Adam Lee had given her a Shetland pony when she was less than five years old - a gift to Alex after her mother had been permanently admitted to a psychiatric hospital and her father, Louis Destephano, banished from Virginia.
She exited the barn for several minutes, walking over to a shed where her grandmother stored extra apples from the Shenandoah Valley for the horses. She returned with a ten pound bag she opened with her pocketknife. She mixed the apples with sweet feed and placed the mixture in each of the horse troughs.
Next, she opened the stall doors and let the horses out into the corral for hay before the snow became too deep. When she entered the barn again she looked upwards to the second level living quarters of Wyndley Farm’s famous trainer and groomsmen, Joe Parker. She hollered, “Joe, you up there? I’m down here doing all your work and I’m about done, so come have some coffee with me.”
There was no answer.
“Humph, I wonder where Joe is,” she said aloud to no one. She moved over to the kitchen area of the barn, had some coffee, and ran fresh water for each of the horses.
Wyndley Farm’s horse barn lacked for nothing. It was one of the best known equestrian facilities in Virginia. Her grandmother, Kathryn Lee, rode almost every day. Alex was convinced that was why her grandmother had beaten the odds when she was critically injured last year.
Alex returned to the kitchen area of the barn where she saw Joe through the window. He was out in the field, looking into the cab of an old John Deere tractor. She hollered at him, but she didn’t think he could hear her due to the wind and the snow. He’ll be here in a few minutes, I’ll just sit here and wait for him, she thought as she curled up in an old fabric lined rocking chair with her coffee.
Joe was family. He had worked with the Congressman and Kathryn for over 30 years. Joe and Kathryn had made Wyndley Farm into a nationally known horse installation. Joe’s our horse whisper. Alex smiled as she nodded off to sleep, breathing in the scent of hay, dung, and the good life.
Chapter 13
“Weather out there’s lookin’ pretty bad, Digger. How’r the roads,” Mary Stildove asked as she dried the last breakfast dish and stretched on tiptoes to put it in the cabinet. A small-framed woman with graying long black hair, Mary Stildove was strong in spirit and heart.
Digger stood at the front door, stomping the snow off his boots as he fondly rubbed the ears of his hunting dog, Tracker. “It’s not good, Mary, not good at all. The clouds are thickening. There’s already over 8 or so inches and it’s only been snowing a few hours.”
Mary shook her head as her soft brown eyes looked lovingly at her husband. She reached to take his jacket and gloves. “Humph, sounds like the weatherman got it wrong again,” she said with disgust as she hung his coat on a rack in the kitchen. “Coffee? You look frozen,” she added, examining her husband closely.
Digger nodded. “Sounds good. I thought we’d take the snowmobiles. Roads are rough already, so I figure we may be taking folks home. You think you can fill all those thermoses with coffee,” he added, gesturing toward four tall containers on the cabinet. “It may be a long ride home if we are chauffeuring others. What do you think?”
Mary nodded her head. “Sure. I’ll put them with my kit. I’m sure Kathryn Lee doesn’t want all those people at her house all night. We want to be sure all of them get home,” she said and added, “Safely, of course.”
Digger smiled at his wife of almost 25 years. Mary Stildove was probably not attractive to most men, in fact they probably found her plain, but to Digger she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Mary’s mouth was wide and generous. Her nose was a little snubbed, but her dark eyes were beautiful and expressive, and there wasn’t much she missed when she sized people up. She was uncannily perceptive and intuitive, a spiritual gift from her ancestors.
Digger continued, “Yeah, don’t forget your magic medicine kit. You’ll be handing out headache powder and nausea powder all afternoon. Take everything you got. Never know what’ll happen in weather like this.”
Mary shook her head in protest, “I don’t need all of that. There’s quite a few medical people over at Wyndley already. I’m sure they can handle any emergency.”
“Not everyone trusts people they don’t know, particularly in these parts, so I suggest you take it. We’d best be prepared for this blizzard,” Digger warned, cautious as always.
Mary nodded and shoved her thick braid to one side, “OK, you’re probably right. If the storm is as bad as we think, no telling what can happen.”
Digger kissed the top of her head. “I stopped at the store and picked up extra batteries, rope, chain, some bottled water, extra candles, and a bottle of your favorite sweet red wine, for later of course,” he added, as he winked and accepted the steaming mug of coffee his wife held out to him.
Mary smiled, a blush climbing up her neck past her turtle neck sweater to her cheeks. “That sounds really good to me. I’ll look forward to it,” she promised.
Digger winked at her. “It’s a date,” he said, as he thought back to the evening before. “I wonder how all those Naw’lins folks are recovering from the wedding last night. That was one fine affair.”
Mary laughed. “Yes, it was a wonderful evening,” she agreed. “Fork Church looked beautiful and some of those New Orlunns people sure can drink alcohol. Bet they felt it this morning,” she predicted. “’Course, I bet the Congressman felt rough too.”
Digger laughed and shook his head. “Nah, you know Adam Lee can drink anybody into the grave, ‘though I think he got into the white lighten’ shortly after dinner. I saw Kathryn giving him the evil eye ‘bout 09:30.”
Mary laughed, “For sure she did. I saw her follow him into his study and I’m pretty sure she gave him ‘down the country’.
“Now Mary, were you eavesdropping again?” Digger grinned at his wife.
“No. You know I wasn’t. I just helped Kathryn find him and I knew just where he was,” she replied, her voice indignant.
“He was in the pool house, right?”
“Yep, that’s where he keeps his lightin’ stash. How’d you know? Were you in there with him?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow.
Digger stared at the floor, “You know me, Mary. I keep an eye on the old gent. Finer people than Adam and Kathryn have never been born. I noticed he was getting a little tipsy, so I was keepin’ my eye on him, you know, watching out. We need him in Congress. He’s the only one who’s honest and speaks his mind.”
Mary reached out and hugged her husband. “I know, but you’re the finest person ever born, Digger Stildove. Do you like the Commander and his new wife, Jack and Monique?”
Digger nodded, “They’re top notch. And Monique, she looked so pretty, especially for someone who’d been so ill.” He shook his head as he remembered the story of the brutal experience Monique had suffered less than a year ago.
“Yes, she is beautiful. Her husband dotes on her. He loves her dearly,” Mary added, as though she was seeing into Jack Francoise’s soul.
“Yes, probably as much as Robert Bonnet still loves Alex,” Digger added. “But, that’s too bad for him,” he opined.
Mary raised her eyebrows in surprise. It wasn’t like Digger to ever comment on relationships. “Why? Don’t you think Alex will marry him again? They are a beautiful couple and seem to be devoted to each other.”
Digger’s words were few as he shook his head. “Don’t kid yourself, Mary. Bonnet messed up, and as well as I know Alex, I’m pretty sure she’ll never marry him again.”
Mary frowned and shook her head, “I hope you’re wrong. I like Dr. Bonnet. He walks on water in my book. Besides, I know Kathryn wants them back together.”
Digger shrugged his shoulders and added, “Robert’s lost her trust and Alex has been hurt by men too many times to ever trust him again.”
Mary pursed her lips in disappointment. “Once again, I hope you’re wrong. I like Dr. Bonnet. He’s always asking me about my herbals and plant concoctions. He respects what I’m doing and that means a lot to me. I’m going to show him stuff tomorrow. He’s a really nice man,” she repeated, her voice defiant.
Digger gave her a shrewd look. “Did I say he wasn’t? I like him too. He’s a good man, but he’s never getting Alex back as his wife. Mark my words. Now, go put on your party dress for this shindig and we’ll be shaking a leg in the dancin’ tent in a few hours.”
Mary flashed him her lopsided smile, kissed his cheek, and retreated into their small bedroom to change. I’ve got myself a winner and I love him so much. How’d I get so lucky?
Chapter 14
New Year’s Day at Wyndley Farm was the day locals waited for every year. It was the day of the famous New Year’s Day Bloody Mary brunch hosted by Congressman Adam Lee and his wife Kathryn. Stories of the brunch were legendary, as was the anticipation of great food and libation.
There was a saying that whatever happened at Wyndley Farm on New Year’s Day, stayed at Wyndley Farm. It was a party where locals, blue bloods who were now cash poor farmers, an occasional movie star or two, and politicians hob-knobbed with each other, laughed at each other’s jokes, told stories, danced with each other, and had a wonderful, memorable day. It was a day when no one cared about social class, status, money, what you wore, or what you ate. It was a salute to a new year.
The alcohol flowed freely on New Year’s Day highlighted by Congressman Lee’s famous Bloody Marys, which he purportedly mixed on Thanksgiving Sunday in preparation for the party. Several hundred people, sometimes more, journeyed to the farm to enjoy and celebrate the New Year.
This year there were several micro-breweries from the Charlottesville and Richmond area, along with a couple of local wineries, set up in the dancing tent. Kathryn had baked at least six Virginia hams, three or four enormous beef tenderloins, and prepared every salad known to man, as well as traditional New Year’s foods such as hog jowl, black-eyed peas and stewed tomatoes -- something she had served each year for the 50 years she’d been married to Adam Patrick Lee. In recent years, due to Kathryn advancing age, she’d agreed to get some help from a local catering service in Ashland, but she still roasted all of the meat herself in Wyndley Farm’s commercial kitchen.
“Has anyone seen Alex lately,” Kathryn asked as she made the final touches to her New Year’s Day table. Kathryn’s centerpieces were legendary and were often featured in Southern Living magazine, as well as the Living Today section of the Richmond Times Dispatch and the Washington Post.
All in all, Kathryn Rosseau Lee was a famous hostess and her party menus and designs were emulated by society all over the U.S. and Europe. This year, because they were celebrating the wedding of Commander Jack Françoise of the New Orleans Police Department and Dr. Monique Desmonde, the centerpieces were stunning and commemorated the theme of new beginnings. Several newspaper reporters and a food writer from the Huffington Post had already photographed and interviewed Kathryn about her newest creation.
Dr. Robert Bonnet, one of Katherine Lee’s favorite people and the former husband of her beloved Alex, joined her in the dining room and answered, “No, Grand. I haven’t seen Alex this morning, but Monique told me she saw her walking toward the barn about an hour ago. Do you want me to go look for her?”
Kathryn shook her head. “Oh no, Robert, it’s okay. You know Alex. She’s probably down there brushing Dundee and giving apples to the horses,” Kathryn speculated, as she arranged part of a perfectly arranged bowl of flowers.
“You’re most likely right,” Robert agreed and laughed. “You know, she really misses the horses in New Orleans.”
Kathryn nodded in agreement. “Yes, I know she does. You do know that her veins are one-quarter horse blood, right?” Grand gave Robert her mischievous smile.
Robert laughed a short laugh. “Yeah. I suspect they are since she’s your granddaughter.” He paused for a moment and added, “I would love to move back to Virginia with Alex so that she could be closer to you and of course, the horses.”
Kathryn raised her eyebrows, her eyes shining with pleasure as she gazed up at the dashing surgeon. He was handsome with his startling gray eyes and patrician features that told of his French Creole heritage. “Really, Robert? Do you have any idea how happy that would make me and Alex’s grandfather?” Grand’s blue eyes filled with tears at the possibility of Alex returning to Virginia to live.
Robert gave Grand a sheepish look and said, “You know, Kathryn, there is nothing I would like more than to remarry Alex and live here in Virginia. I would give up everything I have in New Orleans for a chance to start over with her. You know I love her.”
Grand reached out and touched Roberts’s cheek affectionately. “I know you do, dear boy. How is that going? You think it’s a possibility?” Kathryn tried her best not to interfere in her granddaughter’s relationships, although Alex knew her grandmother wanted them back together. She appraised Robert carefully as he struggled for an answer to her question. How could Alex not want this handsome, brilliant young surgeon, once again, as her husband?
Robert sighed and shrugged his shoulders. His forehead wrinkled as he replied, “To be honest, I’m not sure. What I am sure about is that we are best friends. But that is a long way from becoming husband and wife.”
Kathryn nodded her head. “Yes, it is. But it is a start and in my mind, Alex still loves you and you need to be subtle and persistent.” This was not new information for her. She wished she could make her granddaughter fall in love with Robert Bonnet again, but knew she couldn’t. There was a lot of baggage in their relationship that Kathryn hoped they could work through. In her heart, there was no one better for Alexandra than Robert Bonnet, and that was that.
Robert gave her a tight smile and said, “Trust me, Kathryn, it is always on my mind and I hope to have good news for you in this New Year.”
Kathryn gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek as she glanced at her watch. “On second thought, Robert, do go down and see if she is at the horse barn. We only have a couple of hours before people start to arrive and trust me, some of these country folk arrive an hour earlier than they should.”
“All right, Grand, I will. Let me get my coat and boots. It looks like its getting deep out there,” he said as looked out of the dining room window, watching the snow fall heavily. “Maybe you won’t have such a big crowd,” he speculated.
Kathryn laughed, her beautiful silver hair shining in the chandelier light of the dining room. “No chance; they’ll come. They always do, even if they have to drive their tractor. Don’t slip and fall, Robert. I know you’re not used to snow and there’s probably ice forming as well.”
“I will, Kathryn,” he promised just as Commander Jack Françoise entered Kathryn’s well-appointed dining room. Robert smiled, clapped his friend on the back, and announced, “Kathryn, take a look! Here’s the groom, up bright and early from his marital bed! What do you have to say for that?” Robert asked.
Kathryn looked up from her centerpiece and smiled fondly at the New Orleans Police Commander, who was haggard from the festivities last night. She shook her head and said, “Commander, you look like something the cat drug in. Can I offer you some orange juice?”
Jack Françoise was gray and green around the gills. “It was that damn champagne. Kathryn, what in the world did you put in it. I feel like my head is gonna blow off,” Jack replied.
Kathryn gave him a suspicious look. “You sure you didn’t get into the Congressman’s Virginia White Lighting, Jack? I did hear a rumor to that effect. That moonshine will blind you, if it doesn’t kill you first.”
Robert rolled his eyes and looked at Jack. “Oh, man, you didn’t. That stuff is bad, bad, bad. Were you in the pool house with those friends of yours?”