Kentucky Flame

by Jan Scarbrough

  Jake cursed. “What’s more common in a horse barn but straw and liniment?” He stood up and strode to the picture window looking out toward the burned rubble.

  Mel scrutinized Jake’s slumped shoulders. This thing with the fire was getting to him. She wanted to go to him, to drape her arms around him and comfort him. At the same time, she was relieved the arsonist couldn’t have been Lenny. He didn’t have access to anything at Royalty Farm. Anything but her, she thought gravely. He’d gotten to her for sure. Her cozy drowsiness ebbed to be replaced by a nagging fear that pawed at her like a skittish horse.

  “Jake and I have been afraid the perpetrator was someone at the barn,” Mel commented.

  His mouth was rigid when he turned around. “Whoever this guy is, he’s good,” Jake told Vanessa. “I’ve been keeping my eyes open for a few weeks, but haven’t noticed anything strange.”

  Vanessa nodded. “I wanted you both to be aware of this. No one else needs to know.”

  “Good idea,” Jake conceded.

  Thirty minutes later, Jake and Mel said their good-byes and left the main house. Outside, darkness had fallen and the night was black with summer heat. Mel was quiet, her mind a jumble of confused thoughts. Jake caught her hand as they started down the gravel road toward the barn.

  “You don’t mind me seeing you home?” he asked with boyish eagerness.

  “You’re going my way, aren’t you?” Mel’s voice was light and teasing. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how the feel of his warm grasp disarmed her.

  “Yes, and I hope we continue to go the same way.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

  “And what does that mean?”

  “It means...” He stopped and turned to her.

  She lifted her gaze to him, the night air heavy around them. He ruffled his hair with his free hand and looked away from her.

  “I don’t know how to say it without just saying it.” His gaze dropped to hers, his expression tender. “I want to get to know you again. I want us to be like we were.”

  “As if nothing ever happened between us?”

  “I know it can’t be like before.” Jake’s voice was gentle. “We had something special. I’d just like to try and recapture that same feeling, but I’d like to make it work this time.”

  “Yes, we had something special,” Mel avoided a direct answer. She was glumly aware Jake didn’t know her words held another meaning.

  Mel turned from him and dropped his hand. She started once more down the road.

  “I know things came between us.” Catching up he placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked.

  “Yeah, marriage.”

  “You wanted to tell me something last night. Was it about your marriage, Mel?”

  Breathing hard, Mel continued to walk. Anxiety, raw and cutting, severed her concentration. I have to tell him. The feel of his fingers, now absently caressing her skin, spurred her desire to confess. Overhead the stars winked and grinned at her, almost daring her not to yield to her fears.

  “No, not my marriage. Something more. Something more important to both of us.”

  She stopped once more and looked up at him. Unbidden, tears of anguish pooled in her eyes. In the darkness, she didn’t think Jake saw them. He was looking over her head anyway.

  “When I went to college, I failed to tell you about something that had happened to me. I should have told you, but I was scared. I was stubborn too. I thought you didn’t want me, so I wasn’t about to beg you to marry me,” Mel rambled on, trying to find the right words.

  “I’m sorry, Mel.” Jake glanced back at her. “I haven’t been paying attention.” He inclined his head toward the barn. “I turned the lights out before I left for dinner.”

  Mel followed his gaze. “Maybe Pop turned them on,” she suggested, not understanding the sharp edge to Jake’s voice.

  “But Pop would have turned them off before he went home to bed.” Jake dropped her hand.

  The absence of his touch alarmed her. Jake’s logic was plain, and an ugly panic twisted deep inside her stomach.

  “I have a bad feeling about this one.” Jake took off toward the barn at a run.

  Mel ran after him. They entered the bright, but quiet aisle of the barn. “Things look okay,” Mel said out of breath.

  To be sure, she walked quickly between the stalls, searching each one and counting the horses. She turned back to face Jake who stood at the end of the aisle, the garish overhead light emphasizing the concern on his face.

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t know.” He crossed the aisle and pulled open the door to the tack room. “Oh, God.”

  Mel sprinted the length of the corridor and followed him into the tack room.

  “Oh, no,” Mel moaned heartbroken by what she saw.

  Lengths of leather reins were slashed in half and dumped like so much garbage on the floor. Each saddle was ripped from pommel to cantle, its back split wide open.

  “What kind of sick jackal did this?” Jake smashed his fist into the wall.

  She felt like a vulnerable kitten facing a pack of dogs. “We’ve got to have this tack for the show tomorrow. What are we going to do?”

  Jake turned to the door. “Call the sheriff, for starters. Damn it, Mel, why is this happening?”

  He paused beside her, cupping her chin in his hand and raking her face with his gaze. Mel swallowed, her heart in her throat. She wanted to comfort him. To ease his grief, to make things better. She wanted to erase his tormented thoughts.

  “We’ll get through this,” he said to her, offering her the solace she sought to give.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her breath caught in her chest.

  “Together,” he added with a pointed look in his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  Jake lowered his mouth to hers, plundering her lips just as deliberately as someone had ransacked the room. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, but one full of heartsick passion and despair. Mel answered him, shutting her eyes, losing herself in the taste of his lips and the force of his hunger.

  “Oh, Mel,” Jake took her in his arms. “Why is life so tough? Unfair?”

  “I don’t know.” She was breathless.

  It felt good to be wrapped in his arms. The solid strength of his chest, its rise and fall in a steady rhythm, gave Mel a sense of security, false as it may be. He kissed the top of her head, nuzzling a moment in her hair.

  “We’d better make that phone call. Maybe the sheriff can catch this creep.” Jake crushed her to him as they left the tack room.

  The door to the office stood slightly ajar. Jake pushed it open and stood aside for her to enter the air conditioned room. A low, threatening growl greeted them.

  “Major?” She flipped on the light by the door. “No!”

  Major lay loyally beside Pop, who was crumpled on the floor, the cot upended beneath him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Even at midnight, the ER waiting room was hot and crowded. A baby wailed and a man leaned against the admissions desk shaking his fist at the harassed nurse behind it.

  With taut nerves, set jaw, and a permanent scowl on his face, Jake roamed the stuffy room. Hardly able to control his rage, he felt like a nervous horse poised for flight but held in check by the rider.

  Raking a hand through his hair, he glanced at Mel, who sat in one of the dozen impersonal chairs lining the wall. Her beautiful features were punctured by worry and fatigue, her arms crossed defensively in front of her and her eyes cast downward. Jake wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.

  What could he say? Pop will be okay. He’ll make it. Right. Pop was an old man with a heart condition. Based upon the time he’d left Vanessa’s house, he’d been unconscious for at least an hour. We’ll get through this, Mel. Don’t worry. Jake had said those empty and useless words to her in the tack room before discovering Pop.

  Jake didn’t know what had gone awry between Mel and her ex, but being unable to help her endure that time troubled him. He d
rew a deep breath, his heart tightening in his chest.

  Conscious of a deep need to find solace, he sat down beside Mel. She didn’t move. He slipped his arm around her shoulders, drawing what warmth he could from her. She looked up at him and smiled slightly, and then looked away again. A cold knot of anguish settled in Jake’s gut. Silently, he pulled her toward him, hugging her, a gesture that seemed natural and right. He never wanted to release her. He never wanted to let her go through life alone again.

  “Mel! Jake!” Vanessa rushed across the waiting room toward them “What happened?”

  Jake stood up. “We don’t know.” He shook his head. “Mel and I found him unconscious in the office. Someone had vandalized the tack room.”

  “Yes, I saw it before I came over here.” Vanessa nodded. “It took me more than an hour to find a sitter for Cory. How’s Pop?”

  Jake drew her aside. “We don’t know that either. The doctors are working on him.” He tipped his head toward the swinging doors at the end of the corridor.

  “Oh poor Mel,” Vanessa said with a sigh.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Jake couldn’t believe they’d found Pop lying on the hard office floor. The old man’s face had been turned, so that he’d been able to breathe. That had been the only blessing. Pop’s face had looked like bloody pulp. He’d never seen such a mess. Fortunately, Mel had acted like a pro until the paramedics arrived. Sure, she’d been full of anxiety, but she’d known not to move him in case he had a neck injury. That from the same stubborn woman who’d insisted on sitting up after falling from the horse in Lexington.

  Now they waited for word. Jake hated his inactivity and the uncertainty.

  “I know this isn’t the time to talk about it, but what about the show in Shelbyville? It starts tomorrow. Without the tack…” Vanessa didn’t finish her sentence.

  “We’re going,” Mel spoke up. A hard, determined expression in her eyes had replaced her earlier blank stare. “It’s what Pop would do. You know that.”

  “But Mel, we don’t even know how Pop is doing.” Vanessa walked over and sat down.

  “He’d want us to go.”

  Vanessa breathed deeply. “This horse show business seems unimportant in the face of all that’s happened.”

  “That’s just what someone wants you to think.” Mel’s brow furrowed. “The same someone who set the barn on fire may have tried to kill Pop.”

  Vanessa shifted uneasily. “I see your point.”

  “Miss O’Shea?” The ER doctor entered the waiting area. Dressed in green, he looked like someone’s kid brother.

  Mel stood. Uneasiness twisted in Jake’s gut. He crossed the floor to stand beside her, placing a light hand on the back of her neck. With that gentle touch, he tried to link himself to her, hoping he conveyed his concern and caring.

  “Your father is awake,” the doctor said.

  “How is he?”

  “Uh, he suffered not only a concussion, but a fracture of his zygomatic arch, his nose, and possibly his superior orbit. We’re going to do an MRI to be sure on that. Afterwards, the plastic surgeon will evaluate that. Right now, Dr. James is sewing up his scalp laceration.”

  “Laceration? Is that where all the blood came from?” Mel asked.

  “Yes and from his broken nose.”

  Mel paled. Her somber gaze searched the young physician’s face. Jake allowed his hand to caress her shoulders. “Just what do all those fancy words mean, doctor?” he asked.

  “Uh, yes. Let’s see.” The young man rubbed his chin. “The zygomatic arch is the cheekbone. The orbit is the rim around the eye. These bones and nose serve as a cushion to protect the brain from frontal injury. It’s kind of like the impact system in an expensive car.”

  Jake felt sick. “So, all those fractures probably saved his life?”

  The doctor nodded. “Yes.”

  “Will he need surgery?” Mel wanted to know.

  “Uh, we don’t know the answer to that right now. That’s why we’re doing an MRI. It’s more detailed than regular x-rays or CAT scans.”

  Vanessa came forward. “What could have caused those injuries?”

  The doctor looked at her. “I don’t know, ma’am. Had to be a large flat object though, something able to make that kind of severe impact.”

  “Something like a shovel,” Jake suggested.

  “Yes, like a shovel.” The doctor nodded his head once more.

  Mel took a deep breath. “When can I see him?”

  “Uh, you can see him just a moment before we take him up for the MRI.”

  “I’ll wait here,” Vanessa said.

  As the doctor led the way into the examination room, he turned to Mel and Jake. “There may be some retrograde amnesia. He seems pretty foggy about what happened to him.”

  Mel approached the bed cautiously, like a horse approached a place where he had once been frightened. Against the sterile surroundings of the ER, Pop was a shrunken shadow of the great trainer he’d once been. Several tubes protruded from his body leading to various bags and monitors.

  Horror engulfed Jake as he glanced at the old man’s face. One of his eyes was swollen shut, the other one closed. Pop’s face looked like a deflating basketball, his cheek mushy and big, and his nose caked with dried blood. Clutching his hands into fists, he vowed to find the monster that had done this.

  Mel stroked Pop’s forehead, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Hey, Pop.”

  The trainer cracked open an eye. “Hi, darlin’.”

  “Jake is here, too, and Vanessa is waiting for you outside. We’re all worried about you.”

  “Yeah, this damn dizziness,” he complained. “If it would just go away,”

  “The doctor said you were to have more tests. They’ll fix you up.”

  “What happened to me anyway?”

  “We hoped you could tell us,” Jake said, gazing over her shoulder at Pop’s pale face. “I’m sure the police are going to ask you.”

  “Don’t remember a thing. Are the horses okay? The horses weren’t hurt, were they?”

  “No, Pop. The horses are fine. Nobody touched them,” Mel whispered and glanced uncertainly at Jake.

  The old man really didn’t know what hit him, quite literally. Jake found it gut-wrenching.

  “Don’t worry ’bout me. As long as them horses are okay, I’ll be okay. Did you say someone hit me? Why aren’t you at Shelbyville? We got to show them two young uns.”

  “We’re going tomorrow,” Jake said, hoping to allay some of Pop’s fears.

  A nurse motioned for them to leave. An unsure looked crossed Mel’s face. “Can’t I stay?”

  The nurse nodded. “As long as he doesn’t talk.”

  “Do you hear that, Pop?” Mel bent near him. “You’re not supposed to talk.”

  “Damn hard thing to expect from me, ain’t it darlin’?”

  Jake had to grin. “I’ll step out.” He placed his hand against the small of Mel’s back. “Will you be all right?”

  She turned to him and raised her eyes. The sadness that etched her features rubbed his heart. Jake lifted a fingertip and stroked the softness of her cheek. When she nodded, yes, he placed his finger lightly on her lips and made a kissing motion with his. Her eyes brightened a moment. Jake smiled encouragement and walked out of the room.

  Vanessa waited for him at the door. Jake shook his head. “He looks bad.”

  His boss touched his sleeve. “Oh poor Pop.”

  “Will you stay with her, Vanessa? I want to go back to the barn and take a look around.” Jake fought down an urgency that was like a sudden storm within his mind.

  “The sheriff has already checked the place over.”

  “Right,” Jake acknowledged, “but he wasn’t looking for anything particular. I’m looking for a shovel.”

  “Suppose there would be fingerprints?”

  “If the guy who attacked Pop is one of your employees, I doubt if the sheriff will find strange fingerprints on the
shovel,” Jake speculated. “I just thought it might help if I located it. There may be other clues on it. Besides, I’m doing no good here. I really need to get out of this place awhile.”

  “I see. Well, you take care.”

  “Will do,” Jake agreed. He made it to the door before Vanessa called him back.

  “Oh, Jake! I forgot to give you this.” She hurried toward him. “This letter was delivered to my house by mistake, I guess. I forgot to give it to you at dinner.”

  “Thanks.” Jake took the white business envelope and turned it over. It had been mailed from Lexington, but there was no return address.

  Shrugging, he tucked it into his shirt pocket, tossed a farewell wave at Vanessa, and escaped the chaos of the emergency room.

  * * * *

  Pop had been taken into surgery. Now Mel and Vanessa sat in another waiting room. Yet she still couldn’t relax.

  With a great weariness, Mel rested her head on the back of a cushioned chair, slouched down in the seat, and closed her eyes. Her insides were doing double-time to some obscene, demanding drill sergeant. Her head throbbed to the relentless cadence of her troubled thoughts. Somehow, Lenny’s hand had written this scenario. He was involved with the barn fire and Pop’s attack.

  But how? He was nowhere near the barn. The only way into the property was past Vanessa’s house. The gravel drive made a passing car very obvious. If a vehicle had somehow slipped by in the darkness, it certainly would have been heard by someone. The only other way into the farm was through the fields, past the Neelys’ property. Lenny wouldn’t have known how to come that way. Walking wasn’t part of her ex-husband’s repertoire, and he didn’t know how to ride a horse.

  Just the same, Mel knew he was implicated. A nagging voice inside her head told her so. Lenny had a habit of getting what he wanted. Just like the insurance scam of which she had no proof.

  Mel took a deep breath, remembering. Jake’s work-worn hand upon the back of her neck had been like a caress of rough velvet. Amidst the chaos of her emotions, he’d been like a steady rock—her support, her friend, and now, she thought with a smile, her lover. Yet there would be no future for them if Lenny had his way. To prevent it, she had to speak up. She had remained silent long enough.