Kentucky Groom

by Jan Scarbrough

  As they approached the city, the traffic grew heavier. Jay took the exit nearest her house. Carrie was relieved. Her ordeal would soon be over, at least this part of it. She wanted to be away from Jay, to have time to think. She wanted to curl into a little ball under the covers and sleep for twenty-four hours, shutting herself off from a world that had suddenly blown up in her face. Not that it would make her problem go away, but maybe it would ease the pressure that thudded behind her eyes. Her faith in him was so shaken that she knew it would take more than mere words to make her believe in him again.

  Jay or any other man.

  * * * *

  Something was wrong. Carrie knew as soon as they turned the corner onto her street. It was not as if she saw or heard anything tangible. She sensed it like a dog senses the coming of a storm.

  They pulled into her driveway. The front door was standing open. Inside she saw a strange glow as if strobe lights were flickering inside her living room.

  “Oh, my God, Jay.”

  Carrie jumped out of the car as it rolled to a stop. She didn’t need his strangled cry of “fire” to know what was in her heart. Together they ran to the porch where an intense heat and a shroud of smoke met them.

  “Jesse!” Carrie screamed and started up the porch steps.

  Jay grabbed her arm and swung her around. “You can’t go in there.”

  She faced him, anger blocking the fear that threatened to override her sanity. “You can’t tell me what to do! My daughter’s in there!”

  “Let’s go around the back. Maybe we can get in that way.”

  They had just left the porch when the babysitter ran around the side of the house, her eyes swollen with tears and her face smudged with dirt.

  Jay caught her in his arms. “Where’s Jesse?”

  “We were making pop corn on the stove and then went back into the living room. We forgot about it until we heard the smoke alarm.” Words tumbled from her lips.

  “Where’s Jesse?” Carrie shouted above the strange roar that was her burning house.

  Jay glanced at Carrie and then back to the girl. “Did Jesse get out with you?”

  “No,” the teenager said strangling back a sob. “She yelled something about getting a ribbon and ran upstairs.”

  “My God.” Carrie jammed a fist into her mouth.

  “I ran around the house, and she’s at her bedroom window. She’s too scared to jump.”

  “Show me.” Jay released the babysitter. Over his shoulder he cried, “Carrie, call 911!”

  They disappeared around the house. 911. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Her heart pounding in her throat, Carrie ran to the car and fumbled through her purse for the cell phone. When she reached the emergency service, a voice on the other end told her the fire department was already on its way.

  Thanking God, Carrie tossed the phone onto the seat and sprinted around the house. She heard the distant wail of a fire truck and prayed they would reach them in time. Red and orange flames darted from the open door and the rancid smell of smoke clogged the night air.

  What she saw when she arrived behind her home halted Carrie in stark terror. The babysitter stood petrified beneath Jesse’s window while Jay slowly scaled the wrought iron trellis of morning glories that was anchored into the wooden shingles. Carrie swallowed hard and clutched her hands. That trellis was old—almost as old as the house. It was not meant to hold the weight of a man.

  “Jay, be careful,” she called out to him.

  He glanced down briefly and smiled—the sweet, sweet smile she had grown to love.

  Carrie’s heart turned over as he began to climb again. She didn’t see Jesse, but the window was wide open. Already a trace of smoke had found its way out the opening.

  Jay reached the window and Jesse’s head popped up. Carrie saw the tears streaming down her daughter’s soot-streaked face and the blue ribbon clutched in her hand. Jesse ducked under the raised window and climbed out to sit on the sill. Carrie watched as Jay braced himself to help Jesse turn around so that she could climb down the trellis. His body shielded hers as they began their descent, covering Jesse so completely that Carrie couldn’t see her beloved little girl.

  She lifted another silent prayer.

  It was as if she were in some horrible trance observing a scene made for a cheap, Grade B movie. A strange detachment overwhelmed her as though her mind couldn’t take any more fear or accept any more heartache. In this strange void, Carrie saw the old rusty trellis give way. Jay held Jesse to his body, cradling her, and then they both toppled from the second story.

  Chapter Eight

  A Louisville hospital

  Her hand outstretched, Mary came across the floor of the intensive care waiting room. “Carrie, I’m so sorry.”

  Carrie experienced a strange passivity as if a warm numbness had seeped through her veins. She looked up and greeted the barn owner. “Thank you for coming.”

  Mary sat down beside Carrie and took one of her hands. “How’s Jesse?” she asked, genuine concern in her eyes

  “She’s okay. Jay cushioned her fall. They treated her for smoke inhalation and plan to keep her overnight. I just checked her. She’s sleeping.” Her nerves stretched taut, Carrie spoke slowly. “It’s Jay I’m worried about. I don’t know how to get in touch with his father. We ran into him in Lexington tonight so he’s in the area.”

  Mary nodded. “I’ve gotten in touch with him. He’s on his way.”

  Carrie let out a slow breath. “Thank you, Mary.”

  “Your house?”

  “I suppose it’s gone. The firefighters were still there when I left for the hospital with EMS.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Being here is enough.”

  Mary squeezed Carrie’s hand, and then released it to settle back in the hard hospital chair.

  Although her body felt like it was operating in neutral, Carrie’s mind was in overdrive. Overwhelmed by a sense of guilt as if she could have stopped what had happened, her mind replayed the events of the night—the disclosure of Jay’s background, their disagreement, the discovery of her house engulfed in flames and her daughter trapped inside. She heard again the snap of the trellis played out against the horrible roar of the fire and the terrifying scream that had rolled from her throat as Jay and Jesse fell.

  In an appalling realization, Carrie knew Jay might have given his life to save her daughter.

  The ultimate sacrifice. The ultimate gift. Her body tingled with the understanding. She tightened her jaw. Jay had claimed he had only wanted to help her because of his love and caring, and that’s why he had purchased Tate’s business. Now he had saved her precious child. She could never repay him.

  Carrie placed her hands on the arms of her chair, clutching them with a firm, white grip. Jay hadn’t wanted her gratitude. He now possessed more than that. She was indebted to him in a way that tied them together forever.

  At the same time, she couldn’t let her thankfulness replace her earlier decision. Nothing changed the fact that he had lied to her. What a bitter irony. She had been forced to trust him with her daughter’s life, but she still chose not to trust him with her love.

  Carrie let out a pent-up breath as the attending physician walked out of ICU. He looked tired and concerned, but smiled reassuringly. “Are you Mr. Preston’s wife?”

  Carrie rose. His wife? Her heart began to ache at the paradoxical question. “No. Jay isn’t married. However, his father is on his way to the hospital.”

  “He has no relatives here?”

  “We’re friends. He works for me,” Mary explained.

  “I see.”

  “Is he going to be okay?” Carrie’s question echoed through the empty, impersonal waiting room.

  “We don’t know yet. He’s just come out of surgery and remains unconscious. I really can’t tell you any more until his father arrives.”

  “We’ll let you know when he gets here,” Mary said.

  The doct
or nodded and disappeared behind the swinging doors. They sat down to wait.

  Carrie’s eyes felt like hot sand. She wiped a weary hand across them while her thoughts tumbled in chaotic disarray. It didn’t sound good. What if Jay died? How could she reconcile her feelings with the rational judgment she had made to terminate their fledgling relationship? Moreover, she knew if Jay died, her heart would break, never to be repaired. She swallowed hard against that certainty.

  Jay’s father arrived a few minutes later. He had aged ten years in the few hours since she had last seen him. His glamorous wife hovered in his shadow, looking out of place in the stark confines of the waiting room. Mary and Carrie stood to greet them.

  “Mary, how’s my son?”

  “He’s just come out of surgery we understand. Let me find the doctor,” Mary offered and stepped to the door leading to ICU.

  Carter turned to Carrie. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “And your daughter?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Carrie told him, knowing her child lived because of his son’s courage.

  “Thank God for that.”

  Mary returned with the young doctor. He introduced himself to Carter, which gave Carrie an opportunity to see the Preston magnetism in action as the two men shook hands. No wonder Jay had charmed the socks off her in such a short time. He came by his talents naturally.

  “When your son fell,” the doctor said, “he hit his head. The injury to it is our greatest concern.”

  Carrie felt dizzy. She sank to her chair trying to follow the doctor’s explanation as she stared fixedly at the two men.

  “When the brain is injured, it begins to swell. Because the brain is in the skull, this swelling causes parts of the brain to compress, and blood flow and oxygen to parts of the brain decreases. Our best neurosurgeon has already removed a large hematoma and repaired several damaged blood vessels. In short, we have tried to break the cycle of bleeding and swelling. We are hoping your son’s body will now repair itself.”

  Carter’s face looked grim. “His chances?”

  The doctor inclined his head. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to wait and see.”

  What kind of answer was that? Carrie choked back an angry retort and leaned against the back of the seat, a pang of fear surging through her heart.

  “I can let two of you see him for a few minutes,” the doctor said as if he knew he needed to soften the blow he had just delivered.

  “Thank you, doctor.” Carter turned to his wife. “Lori, it’s late and you’re tired. You must consider the baby. Have the driver take you to the Brown Hotel and send him back to get me.”

  “You don’t want me to go in with you, Carter, dear?” She clung to his arm.

  “No, I think Mrs. Mercer would like to see Jay.”

  Carrie flinched because of the hostile look Carter’s wife directed at her. It didn’t matter what the woman thought. Jay was all that mattered. Her breath became shallow as she tried to still the nervous twitter in her stomach.

  “I’ll walk out with you, Lori,” Mary said.

  Lori’s uncertain gaze flickered once more toward her husband. “Thank you,” she answered, accepting Mary’s offer.

  Carrie watched them leave and turned with resignation to watch Carter come toward her. In tight-lipped silence, he held out his hand. His unwavering gaze locked with hers. Taking a deep breath for courage, Carrie gave her hand to him and rose to her feet. The doctor was holding the ICU door open for them.

  As they walked through the door, Carrie was struck by an eerie sense of familiarity. Maybe it was Carter’s piercing hazel eyes or the sturdy feel of his once-lanky frame by her side. Whatever it was, she was reminded that Jay had more in common with his father than even he would admit.

  From the moment they entered its doors, the crisp efficiency of the intensive care unit overpowered her. Nurses scurried about their duties amid the pungent smell of antiseptic and the gentle hum of life-saving machinery. Carrie dashed a quick glance at Carter and wondered if he was as steady as he appeared. Calm herself on the outside, she knew on the inside she was slowly falling apart.

  The doctor pushed back a ghost-like drape. “Don’t be frightened by all the equipment or the bandage on his head. He’s holding his own right now.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Carter said with a voice hardly audible.

  “The nurse will ask you to leave in five minutes.”

  Carter nodded and stepped around the bed, giving Carrie the direct path to Jay’s side. Her hand shook as she touched his cool arm, his tender skin splotched purple from IV needles. The man who had evoked such disturbing responses from her now lay perfectly still and vulnerable with a white bandage wrapped turban-like over his head. A nasty looking tube snaked down his open mouth and the harsh, thumping sounds of the respirator droned with monotonous rhythm.

  A sudden wave of nausea engulfed Carrie as she studied Jay’s bruised face, swollen almost beyond recognition from fluids. His copper-colored lashes were dark against the pallor of his cheeks.

  “My God, he’s on life support.”

  Carrie looked up at Carter’s blunt words to find the man staring with wrenching anguish at his only son. He must have felt her gaze, for he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

  “I wasn’t prepared for this,” he admitted.

  “Neither was I.” Carrie’s voice was as thin as a veil of gossamer.

  A stark regret settled in his eyes. “I can’t believe I might lose him.”

  Carrie touched her lips with the tip of her tongue. Dread tightened in her stomach. She didn’t know what to say.

  “What will I do if he dies?” Carter question was a soft groan.

  Carrie lifted her chin. “He won’t die.”

  Carter met her gaze. “How can you be so sure?”

  “How can you be so sure he will die?” Anger flashed through her, and she bit back a harsher comment.

  Despair was written on his face. “I’ve made so many mistakes with Jay. I just want time to make it up to him.”

  As she gave Carter a thoughtful stare, Carrie’s jaw tightened. The man’s selfishness was mindboggling. Yet as her gaze shifted over the rugged plains of his face, she knew instinctively that more lay beneath Carter’s words than simple remorse.

  “When the doctor says he can be moved, I’m taking him back to California.” Carter must have read the question in her look, because he hurried on, “I know the doctors there. He’ll have the best care my money can provide. If or when he recovers, he may need therapy. I can provide the best for him.”

  “Money isn’t the only thing Jay needs,” Carrie said softly.

  Carter had the decency to drop his gaze, but not before Carrie saw the flicker of shame cross his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, a silent testimony to the link between the two men. Carrie had seen Jay make the same gesture many times.

  A certainty settled over Carrie as if she had been touched by the fingers of a guardian angel. She knew what Jay would want.

  When she spoke, it was with calm deliberation. “Leave him here, Carter. Jay has been happy in Kentucky. Don’t tear him away from where he’s been happy.”

  Before Carter could respond, a nurse pushed back the curtain. She looked sympathetic but firm. “You can see him again in another hour. We’ll let you know if there’s any change.”

  “Thank you.” Carter ducked his head and moved past the nurse.

  Carrie let her fingers linger a second longer on Jay’s cool arm. Fighting back tears, she fled from the reality of the room.

  When she rejoined Carter, he sat with his head in his hands. Carrie walked toward him, feeling the agony emanating from him like a tangible thing. She sat down beside him. Again she was at a loss for words.

  “You talk with such assurance about Jay. Do you know my son well?” Carter asked. He lifted his head and his eyes captured hers.

  Carrie’s brow furrowed. “Well enough.”

  “I’ve known him all hi
s life, but I still don’t know him.”

  There it was again. The paralyzing regret. Carter shoved a hand once more through his thinning hair.

  “Jay isn’t hard to get to know,” Carrie ventured, suddenly able to speak with authority. “He wants what most of us want out of life—to love and be loved.”

  Carter’s eyes narrowed. “I can relate to that wish, but I’ve never understood what love is.”

  Carrie leaned toward him and tried to muffle an unbidden wave of anger.

  He studied her face before he went on, “I suppose Jay told you about my many marriages.”

  Carrie’s gaze shifted self-consciously. “Yes, he did speak about them.”

  “He held them against me.” When Carrie didn’t respond, Carter grew silent a moment. She heard him expel a breath. “We argued about it at my wedding reception. I hit him in the jaw.”

  Carrie looked at him, surprised. She knew Jay as little as his father.

  “I disowned him.” Carter’s acrid words dangled between them.

  “He told me that.”

  Sitting forward in his chair, Carter clutched his hands together and glancing sideways, searched her face. “Tell me. You said my son was happy. Was he getting along okay?”

  “He enjoyed his work at the stable.”

  Carter sat back. “That’s another thing I did wrong. I forced him into programming. I had plans for him run my company some day.” He shook his head. “I never realized how much he hated it. But he was so damn good at it. Damn talented.”

  Carrie found it hard to witness the man’s soul-searching. She felt uncomfortable like an unwanted guest. “Maybe it wasn’t the programming he objected to.”

  Carter dropped his gaze as if he knew what she was driving at. “Does he love you?” The unexpected question sounded harsh.

  Carrie shivered in her skimpy black dress. “He said he did.”

  Carter nodded and looked at her once more. “I knew it as soon as I saw the way he looked at you at the horse show. You’re a lucky woman.” His voice caught. “He hated me so much.”