“I knew you would react this way, so I came prepared.” He reached his hand into his pocket, then handed her a neat roll of bills. “Tessie, Rhy and me . . . We scraped together all we could. It's almost $200. I wish it was more but . . . Wait a minute! I know where there's some more. Don't move till I get back,” he said, excitement ringing in his voice. He was back within minutes holding a fat envelope. “There's four hundred dollars here. Tax money. I saw Pa counting it the other day. Don't say anything, Nealy. I'll deal with it later. Here's the keys to the truck. Tessie is packing up Emmie's things right now. There's not much time. Pa went to the barn with the vet, so if you're leaving, you best do it now. He made the call to the county orphanage last night, and they said they'd come for Emmie in the morning. I don't expect they'll go after you, but I covered the license plates with mud just in case.” He reached into his other pocket and took out a napkin. “Doc Cooper left you some pills and gave me instructions to give them to you every four hours.”
Nealy took the napkin from her brother's hands and opened it up. Staring up at her were five huge pills. “These are horse pills,” she said, looking up at Pyne.
“Doc says what's good for horses is good for folks, too. He told me to cut them up in quarters. Just bite off a chunk.”
Nealy stood up and tucked the napkin into her jeans pocket. “Thanks for the money and the pills.” She used up another five minutes stuffing essentials into an old carpetbag that Tessie said had once belonged to her mother.
“You're welcome. It's cold out, but the heater in the truck is working, and it's gassed up. I'm sorry about all this, Nealy. I wish there was some other way to . . .”
“Forget it, Pyne,” she said, cutting him short as she struggled to even out her breathing. “Pa is Pa, and that's it. Wherever I go and whatever I do . . . it's gotta be better than this.” She gave the room a last look. “I love this place, Pyne. Maybe because I don't know any better or maybe because Mama is buried here. Then again . . .” She shook her head, unwilling to voice her thoughts. “Am I going to get a chance to say good-bye to Rhy and Tessie?”
“No. Rhy's in the barn with Pa and Doc, and Tessie is standing guard at the back door. She made up a food basket for you and Emmie.” He took the carpetbag from her hand and opened the bedroom door. “When you drive out, coast down the hill and don't put your lights on till you get to the main road. Don't stop till you're far away from here. When you get where you're going, call Bill Yates and let him know how you are. He'll get a message to me. Can you remember to do that, Nealy? Jesus, I wish it didn't have to be like this. Make sure you remember to call now.”
“I'll remember, Pyne. But I don't know where I'm going. Where should I go, Pyne?”
“Head for Lexington, Kentucky. Stop at the first breeding farm you come to. They'll take you in. You're good with horses, better than Rhy or I will ever be. Hell, you're better with them than Pa is. That's why he worked you so hard. He knew how good you were. You have grit, Nealy. Use it now.”
“Good-bye, Pyne. And thanks . . . for everything,” Nealy said, her voice ringing with tears.
“Go on, git now before Pa comes back from the barn,” Pyne said gruffly. Then he did something that she would remember forever. He bent over and kissed Emmie on the cheek. “You take care of your mama, little one.” He pressed a bright, shiny penny into her hand. Emmie looked at it and smiled.
Nealy held Emmie close as she negotiated the front stairs. “Pyne?”
“Yeah?”
“Emmie is not a half-wit.”
“I know that, Nealy. Hurry up now.”
Perspiration dotted Nealy's face and neck as she quietly opened the front door and headed for the truck parked in the gravel drive. After settling Emmie into a nest of blankets on the passenger side, Nealy climbed in and adjusted the seat. She saw Pyne toss her carpetbag into the back with some buckets and a shovel. Then she put the key in the ignition, but didn't turn it. The fact that she didn't have a driver's license suddenly occurred to her. She'd driven on the ranch and a few country roads, but she'd never driven on a major highway. If the state police caught her, would they send her back? Would her father tell them she stole the truck? Tessie would say she was borrowing trouble with such thoughts, and since she had all the trouble she could handle at the moment, she concentrated on the problem at hand, steering the coasting truck.
Nealy was almost to the main road when she stopped the truck to take one last look at the only home she'd ever known. SunStar Farms. Her shoulders slumped. Would she ever see SunStar's lush grassy pastures again? Or its miles of white board fence? Or April Fantasy, the stallion she'd raised and trained herself? Something told her she'd miss pasture grass, fencing, and a horse more than her own father and brothers.
Hot tears burned her eyes as she climbed out of the truck. She reached in the back for one of the empty oat buckets and the shovel. Moving off to the side of the road, she sank the shovel deep into the rain-softened ground, then filled the bucket with rich, dark soil. SunStar soil. That much she could take with her. She lugged the bucket back to the truck and hefted it into the truck bed. Her chest screamed with pain as she clamped a bigger bucket over the top to secure the dirt.
Gasping for breath, she leaned against the back fender and stared into the darkness. “They may think they're rid of me, but they aren't. I'll come back someday, and when I do, things will be different.”
Nealy drove for hours, her body alternating between burning up and freezing. She stopped once to fill a cup with milk for Emmie and once to get gas. She took Emmie into the bathroom with her, careful to keep the wool cap pulled low over her face just in case anyone was looking for them. Satisfied that they had not attracted any attention, she climbed back into the truck. She gave Emmie some baby aspirin that she'd found packed among her things and broke off a quarter of one of the horse pills Pyne had given her.
Two hours later Nealy crossed the state line into Kentucky. She drove for another two hours before she left the main highway and headed down a secondary road with a sign pointing to Blue Diamond Farms. Maybe she could find work there, though why anyone would hire a sick teenager with a sick toddler was beyond her. On second thought, maybe she would be better off to find a cheap motel and stay there until they were both better.
Emmie tugged at her arm just as the truck bucked, sputtered, and died. Nealy steered it to the side of the road. She lifted the little girl into her arms and hugged her. The aspirin hadn't helped at all. Emmie was so hot she was listless. Fear, unlike anything she'd experienced in her short life, overcame Nealy. Emmie needed helpâa doctorâa people doctor, not a horse doctor. She stared out the window and debated whether to take Emmie and walk down the road or cut across the field. If she cut across the field and couldn't make it, it might be days before anyone found them. With Emmie in her arms, she started down the road, only to turn around to get her bucket of dirt out of the truck bed. She could always come back for the rest of her belongings.
Twice she stumbled and almost fell but managed to right herself both times. She trudged on, the whimpering child clinging to her neck. “I can do this,” she told herself. “I know I can do this.” Like a litany, she said the words over and over.
The third time she fell she couldn't get up. Holding Emmie close to her she curled into the fetal position and cried. Then she prayed. And when she opened her eyes, she saw denim-clad legs and muddy boots. Through fevered eyes she looked up and saw the biggest, ugliest man she'd ever seen in her life. “Please, can you help me and my little girl?”
Nealy felt herself and Emmie being lifted, and somehow knew they were in good hands. “My bucket. Please, I can't go without my bucket,” she said, when the giant took his first step. “I can't leave it. It's all I've got left.” She felt him bend down, heard the
click-clack
of the handle, and closed her eyes.
Nealy went in and out of consciousness. She knew people were helping her, knew the hands were gentle. She could hear them talking about her and her daughter. Someone named Maud and someone else named Jess. She felt them take Emmie from her arms and didn't protest because the hands were good hands, gentle hands. “Please God,” she prayed aloud, her voice scratchy. “Let this be a good place.”
“This is a good place, child,” the woman, Maud, said. Her voice had a lilting Southern drawl. “Jess and I are gonna take care of you and your li'l girl. Is there anyone you want us to call? Do you have a family, child?”
Until now Nealy hadn't considered what she would tell people who questioned where she'd come from. She couldn't think about it now because she was in too much misery to concentrate. “No, ma'am. It's just me and my little girl,” she said for lack of a better explanation. Later she would give them their names and tell them something about herself, something that was close to the truth. Later, when she could think more clearly.
“All right then. Don't you worry about a thing. Jess and me will take care of everything. You just close your eyes and go to sleep. The doctor is on his way.”
“I need my . . .” Nealy's voice gave out.
“Jess is on his way now to tow your truck into the barn. As soon as he's through, he'll bring your things inside.”
Nealy had to make the woman understand that it wasn't her belongings that were important to her. It was the bucket of SunStar soil. “No!” She struggled to rise up, but Maud held her down.
“What is it, child?”
“I need . . .”
“Shhhh,” Maud hushed her. “It's right here.” She lifted the bucket for Nealy to see.
“Thank you, ma'am.” And then she was asleep.
2
Nealy's eyes snapped open. She struggled to move. Where was Emmie? More to the point, where was she? Then she remembered. She let out a small hoarse cry as she felt a wet tongue on her cheek. “You're not Emmie, you're a dog!” she said, her eyes wide with awe.
Nealy stroked the dog's silky fur as she looked around. It was a pretty room, with flowered wallpaper and sheer curtains at the window. It looked like a girl's room. The bed she was lying on was narrow and comfortable, almost like the small bed she'd had back home. She looked down at the black dog lying on top of a double-ring wedding quilt. He licked her hand. “Are you my guardian?” she whispered as she scratched him gently behind the ears.
She saw her then, in the shadows of the room. The lady with the gentle hands, the one who'd reached out for Emmie. She was holding Emmie, rocking her on the rocker, and it sounded like she was singing.
The dog barked.
“Shhh, Molly, you'll wake the little one. How are you feeling, Nealy?”
“I'm not sure, ma'am. How long have I been here? Am I going to die? Is Emmie all right?”
“Mercy, child, so many questions. I guess you must be feeling better. You've been with us for eleven days. No, you aren't going to die, but it was touch-and-go there for a little while. You had pneumonia. Emmie is fine. Jess and I have been taking care of her. Molly stayed with you the whole time. She'd come and fetch us those first few days when you couldn't breathe.”
Nealy continued to stroke the silky dog as she digested the information. “Emmie has never been away from me before. Did she cry? Did she miss me?”
“Of course she missed you. She whimpered from time to time, but Jess could always make her smile. We'd bring her in here so she could see you. I'd rock her to sleep. She's a beautiful little girl. She looks like her mama. Right now you look a tad bony and hollow-eyed, but we'll fix that as soon as you can get up.”
“I can pay you for my keep, ma'am. I can't be beholden to you. When I'm well, I can work. I'm good with horses. Do you think you might have some work for me? I can cook and clean, too. I can do most anything if you give me the chance.”
“We can talk about all that later. First we have to get you on your feet.”
“Ma'am, I need to know. I need to know there's a place for me and Emmie. I can't be having that hanging over our heads. It's going to be getting cold soon. I have to take care of her. There's no one but me to do that. I need to hear the words, ma'am.”
“Honey, you and this sweet baby have a home here for as long as you want. If you want to work for me, I'll hire you. I'll pay you a decent wage. This can be your room if you want it. We have a room right next door for Emmie. Jess fetched a crib from town, but the tyke doesn't care for it. Likes to crawl in and out, so we set her up a real bed and got her some toys. Molly plays ball with her. She's happy. I'm going to put her in her bed now and get you something to eat. It's been a long time since you had real food. What would you like?”
“I'd like to see my daughter so I can kiss her good night. She was sick when we got here. Did you tend to her, too?”
“We did. The doctor came by twice a day. This little one did well on the medicine. She's fine now.”
Tears blurred Nealy's eyes when she reached out to stroke her daughter's tangled curls. “She's not a half-wit, ma'am, she's not!” she said fiercely.
“Now why would you be saying such a thing? No one said this baby was a half-wit. Did someone say that to you?” Maud Diamond's voice quivered in outrage.
“Ma'am, I'd know if that was true, wouldn't I? I'm her mother. I never had a mother, so I couldn't ask the right questions. She doesn't cry much. I used to have a hard time trying to keep her quiet so . . . I think she understands. She should be saying words now, but she doesn't.”
“When she's ready, she'll talk a blue streak. If she doesn't want to talk, she won't. Jess now, he never says three words if one will do. He grunts a lot. That doesn't mean he's a half-wit. As long as you stay in my house I never want to hear you say that word again. Do you understand me, Nealy? What's your last name? I'm going to need a name and a social security number for your work papers. And your birth date. Not right now but when you're better. Now what would you like to eat?”
“I think I might like an egg and some toast. My name is . . . Cole. Nealy Cole. I'm almost eighteen. My birthday is November 1. I promise never to use that word again. Did Emmie really miss me, ma'am?”
“Yes, honey, she did. I think she knew you were sick. As long as she could see you she was just as good as gold. I don't know if this is important or not, but she had this penny in her hand and wouldn't give it up nohow. I made her a little velvet bag with a drawstring, and she wears it on her wrist. She's about worn out the string opening it to make sure that penny is still there.”
Nealy bit down on her lip. “Some . . . someone gave it to her. It was bright and shiny. She never saw a penny before. Thank you for making the bag for her. And thank you for taking care of us. I'll work hard for you, ma'am, so that you're never sorry you took us in. Do you still have my bucket? That bucket is important to me and Emmie.”
Maud Diamond felt a lump start to grow in her throat. Tears burned her eyes as she turned to hobble from the room, her arthritic legs and back clearly visible to Nealy. “Everything is safe, honey. Don't you be fretting about anything now. All you need to do is get well and strong.”
In the kitchen, Maud sat down at the table to stare at her longtime friend, companion, and farm foreman. “She's awake, Jess. She's going to be just fine. I think we got us a fine young filly here. That girl about broke this old heart of mine. We're keeping her. I don't much care if someone is looking for her or not. It's clear to me she lit out with that little one because things got out of hand. I want you to hide that truck of hers, and if anyone ever comes around here looking for her, you run them off, you hear me, Jess. Wherever you hide that truck, you hide that bucket of dirt of hers, too. We'll tell her where it is if she wants to know. What we have here, Jess, is a conspiracy.”
The old man nodded. “You're in pain, Maud. Do you want me to fix you something to ease it?”
“I can stand it. You could make some eggs for Nealy, and toast. Tea would be good. I'll just sit here and watch you. Do you think she'll like it here, Jess? It'll be like us having a daughter and granddaughter to look after.”
Jess Wooley grunted as he cracked eggs into a bowl. He was as tall as the sycamore sapling he'd planted outside the kitchen door to shade the steps because Maud liked to sit on them. A big man, Maud called him, with hands almost as big as fry pans. Gentle hands. Good hands. Some people, Maud included, said he was an ugly man. Maud always clarified that by saying he was so ugly he was beautiful, with twinkling blue eyes, snow-white hair, and dimples so deep you could stick a spoon in them. When he laughed, which wasn't often, the ground shook beneath his 260-pound frame.
“Jess, what do you think would have happened to Blue Diamond Farms if you hadn't rode onto my spread fifty years ago? I need to thank you again for stopping by that day. There I was with two stud horses, three mares, a run-down house, ramshackle barns, and only enough food to see me through a week at best. Didn't make one bit of difference that Pa had had a Derby winner years before. I'd just buried him that very morning. As I recall, I'd tipped the moonshine crock a few too many times. I was just about to lie down and die and there you were, big as life, jerking me to my feet and telling me to stop blubbering. You said nothing was so bad it couldn't be fixed. You fixed it all. I want to know, and I damn well want to know right now, this very minute, why you didn't move into this house with me. I want to know, Jess.”
“ 'Cause we weren't married. That's why. We've been over this a hundred times, maybe a thousand, Maud.”
“I don't care. I want to hear it again. You slept in my bed. You never asked me to marry you.”
“Did so.”
“You did not.”
“Said we should make it legal.”
“That's not a proposal, you horse's patoot.”
“Is to me.”
“I wanted fancy words. Pretty words.”
“Actions speak louder than words.”
Maud watched as Jess slid the eggs onto a plate, then settled everything on a tray. “A posy would look nice on here. Before you know it the frost will kill all those flowers, so it's best to pick them now.”
“She's got
the touch,
Maud.”
“I know. I could feel it in her. If the little one has it, then it's a good bet her mama has it, too. I appreciate you taking the tray up. When you come down maybe I will take some of that elixir if you don't mind.”
“Don't mind at all. I made a fire. Wrap up on the sofa, and I'll bring it in when I get done.”
“Jess.”
Jess turned, his eyes questioning.
“This is a good thing we're doing, isn't it?”
“Yep.”
“Good. That makes me feel a lot better knowing you agree.”
“Always do, Maud.”
Maud made her way into the comfortable living room. She did love a fire on cold nights. Who was she fooling, she loved a good fire any time of the day or night. She sank down gratefully on her favorite chintz-covered sofa. She wished she could swing her legs up and stretch out, but those days were gone forever. Until now, all she'd had to look forward to were more days of pain and misery. Even the first sight of a new foal couldn't erase the pain these days. Now it was going to be different. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and waited for Jess. Jess always made things better.
The dream came quickly because it was always there, hovering inside her brain, just waiting for the moment she closed her eyes.
“Don't get on that horse, Maud. He's not ready.”
“Maybe he isn't, but I am. That's all that counts. He's just skittish because it's getting ready to rain. I can handle him, Jess.”
“Maud, you aren't twenty-five years old. You're damn well sixty-five, and you don't belong on a horse anymore.”
“If that was true, Jess, I'd lay down and die. I was ready to do that the day you came riding onto Diamond property. Don't be saying that to me, or you'll jinx me.”
The moment the words sailed past her lips, Stardancer reared up on his hind legs and lunged forward, snorting his disdain for the woman on his back. He tossed his head backward, his mane flying into Maud's face. She gripped the reins tighter just as he reared up a second time. This time she grabbed for his mane and hung on for dear life. Unable to shake the load on his back, the horse snorted again and took off at a full gallop. Maud blinked as she saw the split-rail fencing come into view. Stardancer flew over the fencing, tossing his rider into the air. She landed hard on the post dividing the fence sections. She heard her bones snap at the same moment she heard Jess's wild shout, and then her world turned black.
“You sleeping, Maud?”
“Not anymore, Jess. How is she?”
“She's fine. She ate a little, wobbled to the bathroom, and now she's sleeping. She did look in on Emmie for a second. Molly's sleeping on the bed with her. It's all gonna work out, Maud. Here's your elixir.”
Maud smiled. Four ounces of Kentucky bourbon with a dash of lemon was Jess's idea of an elixir. She had one in the morning, one at noon, and one in the evening. On more than one occasion she had some in between times. Sometimes it dulled the pain, and sometimes it didn't.
“How bad is it tonight, Maud?”
“It's bad, Jess. A broken back isn't something you recover from. If it wasn't for this blasted arthritis settling in my joints and between the vertebrae in my back, I'd be fine. Maybe I should look into some of those newfangled surgeries they say work for joints.”
“Maybe you shouldn't,” Jess said curtly. “Let's just sit here and watch the fire. That game show you like is on tonight. It's your turn to spend the money this evening.” It was a game they played every Monday night. They took turns pretending they were the winning contestants, and then discussed how they would spend their winnings.
“I think maybe I'd do some decorating now that we have young people living with us. You know, bright colors, fresh carpets, new draperies. A pony and a cart for Emmie. Maybe we should think about putting in a swimming pool. I always liked the water.”
Jess clucked his tongue. “Let's take it a little slow. There's nothing wrong with this house or the furnishings. It's old, and it's comfortable. I don't think that girl upstairs has had much comfort along the way. I'd bet my last dollar she'll say she likes it just the way it is.”