Authors: Fern Michaels

Kentucky Sunrise (34 page)

BOOK: Kentucky Sunrise

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Emmie's head bobbed up and down. “Yeah, yeah, Cordell, that sounds good. Do that. Don't let him anywhere near this barn, and keep a sharp lookout that he doesn't sneak past you. I need to work up to seeing him. I had this . . . this crush on him when he was doing all that filming.”

Cordell scratched his head. “Figured it was something like that. Don't go stewing and fretting, little lady. I'll take care of the moviemaker. You sure you don't want me popping that ex-husband of yours?”

“I'm sure. Thanks, Cordell.”

“I'm glad you're with me, Dad. Our first meeting didn't go that well. Then again, maybe it's my imagination. He's still as cocky as ever. All I want is his name on these papers. What if he changes his mind?”

“Then we fall back and regroup,” Dillon said.

“He's going to be watching the race, Dad. For some reason that unnerves me. It shouldn't, but it does.”

“Honey, that man isn't worth your little finger. Any man that turns his back on his child isn't worth anything. I know all about that because I lived it. We're here, the Starlite Motel. The guy doesn't exactly go first class now, does he?”

“No, he doesn't. He's secure though. His parents left him a small fortune, and he does work. He was always on the frugal side. Look, Dad, there's Mitch Cunningham. I told you about him. He's the one who made the family movie. Cordell said he was here to make a documentary of the Derby.”

“Emmie! Imagine seeing you here!” Mitch picked her up and twirled her around. On the half-swing, she saw Buddy and a slim young woman staring at her. She forced a laugh she was far from feeling. She turned her back to her ex-husband when Mitch settled her on her feet.

“It's good to see you. It's what . . . well over a year, more like two. How are you?”

“Good. The big question is, how are you? I tried calling that place where you went when you got sick, but they would never put my calls through. I called your mother and she said they had rules, and she gave me a list of your telephone times but every time I thought about calling, it was the wrong time. I'm sorry, Emmie. You're looking real good. You must be feeling good if you're racing in the Derby tomorrow.”

Emmie nodded. He'd tried to call her. She smiled. “Have you had dinner yet? Oh, Lord, where are my manners? Dad, this is Mitch Cunningham. Mitch, this is my dad, Dillon Roland.”

“I was just going to hunt down someplace to eat. Will you join me?”

“We'd love to if you'll just give me a minute,” she said, squeezing his hand for Buddy's benefit. “Just wait for us by the door.”

“What do you think, Dad? Do you like him?” Dillon smiled. “He seems nice. I assume he's the man you talked to me about when you were in rehab.”

“He's the one. He tried to call. I wish I had known that back then. Oh, well, that was then, this is now. All I want to do now is get this over with.”

Buddy stood up, a strange look on his face.

“Dad, this is Buddy Owens. Buddy, this is my father, Dillon Roland.”

They shook hands briskly. Buddy motioned for his companion to get to her feet.

“This is Debra London, my fiancÃ©e.” They all shook hands again. Buddy voiced a question with his fingers. “Who was that man?”

Emmie looked into Buddy's eyes. “The man I'm going to marry. I told you that down in the barn. Didn't you believe me? My father is going to give me away and Gabby is going to be our flower girl,” she lied with a straight face. “Mitch made the movie, Buddy, the one you didn't like. All right, here are the papers. Just sign by the X.”

Buddy sat down, a scowl on his face as he scanned the papers he was about to sign. He finally shrugged and scrawled his signature.

“Dad, you witnessed his signature, so you have to sign on the first line. Buddy, your fiancÃ©e can sign on the second line. Otherwise, we have to get a total stranger to be a witness and you'll have to sign all over again. She won't mind, will she?”

Debra London smiled and reached for the pen. She wrote her name neatly.

Emmie felt like dancing a jig. “It was nice to see you again, Buddy. I hope you have a wonderful life. I mean that sincerely. It was nice meeting you, Debra.” She clutched at her father's hand and literally dragged him to the door, where Mitch Cunningham waited.

“My God, he signed the papers. He actually signed the papers,” Emmie said when they were outside and walking across the parking lot. “I feel like ten years and a hundred pounds just came off me. He signed them, Dad. He really signed them.”

Dillon nodded as he cupped her elbow in his hand. “He did. He can't take it back now. Gabby is all yours.”

Emmie turned when she heard her name called. She strained to see in the darkness. She thought she recognized the voice. “Doctor Hunter! What in the world are you doing here?”

“I had to come after you gave me that crash course in Thoroughbred racing. I wanted to see my star patient do what I never thought she would ever be able to do. Mr. Roland, it's nice to see you again. Or should I call you Dwight Holcum?” He burst out laughing at the sound of the name.

Emmie grinned as she reached for the doctor's hand. “Doctor Hunter, this is Mitch Cunningham. Mitch, Doctor Hunter is the man who got me to this place in time.”

More manly handshakes.

“We were on our way to a rib house, would you like to join us?”

“Sure. I checked in a while ago. I was just meandering around. God, it's good to see you both. Is everything okay, Emmie?”

“We'll tell you all about it over dinner.”

Derby Day!

“It's going to be a beautiful day!” Hatch said, pointing to the sun creeping over the horizon. “The last time we were here it rained buckets. When you crossed that finish line, you and Shufly were covered in mud from head to toe. As I recall, you took three showers. That was a day I don't think I will ever forget.”

Nealy sighed. It all seemed so long ago. She sipped at the coffee in the Styrofoam cup Hatch had brought her earlier. It was cold now, but she was used to swilling cold coffee. Sometimes she thought coffee and not blood ran in her veins.

Her eyes on the horizon and the new sun creeping higher and higher brought back so many memories. The first time she'd been there, Hunt had been at her side. He'd been such a rock that trip. He'd been with her the second time, too, but only in spirit. Today, she wasn't riding. Today she was alone. Even though her entire family was there, along with her husband, she felt terribly alone. Maybe it was because she wasn't racing. Maybe it was because she couldn't bring the past back into the present. Maybe she wasn't ready to let go of the past, but one couldn't live on memories. It was a new day, a new time. She had to let it go, she had no other choice.

“What do you think we'd have to do to get some
hot
coffee?”

“Not much. A kiss on the cheek will do it. They set up a stand over there,” Hatch said, pointing to his left. “And it's free. It doesn't get any better than free.”

“If you don't mind, honey, fetch some for everyone. I can't believe what a beautiful day it's going to be. Even the weatherman said it's going to be in the mid-seventies, and no humidity. Perfect, just perfect.”

“Don't get in any trouble while I'm gone,” Hatch called over his shoulder.

Nealy's gaze raked the milling people, some moving almost at the speed of light, others dawdling. She stopped in midstride when a strange, alien feeling overcame her. She shook her head and rolled her shoulders back and forth to ease any tenseness, but the feeling stayed with her. The feeling was similar to the time when a pack of youngsters tried to attack her and Flyby came to her rescue. A warning of some sort. What? Why? Finding no answers to her questions, she walked down the breezeway to Gadfly's stall.

Nealy reached out to stroke the horse's head. She talked softly as she handed him a mint. He tossed his head in approval. “This is your day. I hope you can run like your daddy. I don't know if you can beat that little pygmy next to you because he's real good. Real good, Gadfly. I almost wish I was riding you. I think you and I could eat up that track. You like Lee, and that's a good thing. Just do what he wants and head for that finish line.” She handed over another mint and moved on to Hifly's stall. The little horse poked his head out of the stall and nuzzled her neck. Flyby used to do the same thing. Her eyes filled with tears. She brought his head down close to her own. “I know you can do it. I know as sure as I'm standing here that you can win this race. I'm not sure you can beat your buddy or vice versa, but I know you're going to give it your all just the way Gadfly is going to give his all. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, sweet boy.”

“Are you telling
my
horse secrets, Mom?” Emmie said, coming up behind her.

Nealy turned around to stare at her daughter. “No. I was just wishing him luck.” She frowned at the dark circles under her daughter's eyes. Her movements were less than fluid when she stretched out shaking hands to caress the horse's head. Even her speech sounded jerky to Nealy.

“Did you have a bad night, Emmie? For some reason our internal body machinery knows how important Derby Day is and it goes on the fritz. It happens to all of us. Go off by yourself to some quiet place and try to relax even if it's just for ten minutes or so. The pressure will start to build soon, so you need to be grounded.”

“I know all that, Mom. You don't need to pep talk me. I'll be fine.”

“You don't look fine, Emmie,” Nealy said bluntly.

“Your voice is jerky-sounding, and your hands are shaking. Hifly is already picking up on it. That alone is enough to throw him off his stride. If you don't believe me, watch how he acts.”

“You don't know everything, Mom. Why do you always try to beat me down? I'm okay.”

“The way you were okay before you got sick? Emmie, you ignore what is right in front of your face. If you want to be a martyr, be my guest, but think about this horse. He deserves your best. I'm not seeing your best right now. It's dangerous on the track. If you aren't one hundred percent, you could get killed or even kill someone else. You need to listen to me, Emmie.”

“I'm sick and tired of listening to you, Mom. Go pep talk Lee, who I've yet to see by the way, and you sure as hell don't seem too concerned about him. I know what I have to do, and I'll do it. A lot of people have faith in me, Mom. Doctor Hunter came to see me race. Buddy is here, and so is Mitch Cunningham, not to mention Dad.”

Nealy gritted her teeth. “Is that what this is all about? Performing for other people so they can see how wonderful you are? I can't believe I'm hearing right. Furthermore, Emmie, Lee is a professional. He's raced before. You haven't. He was here a minute ago because I saw him. I'm talking to you as a professional, not your mother. Emmie, you need to look deep inside yourself. Ask yourself if you're riding this race for the right or wrong reasons. That's the mother in me asking that question. If you're doing it for the wrong reasons, then you don't belong here.”

“And you do!” Emmie said, stalking off.

Nealy kicked a stall door in frustration.

“Ooohhh, I felt that,” Dillon Roland said, coming up behind her. “I'm looking for Emmie.”

“She went that way,” Nealy said, pointing down the breezeway. “Dillon, I'm worried about her. Her hands are shaking, and she has dark circles under her eyes. She can get killed out there. If you can, calm her down, okay?”

Dillon rubbed at his temples. “She's stubborn, Nealy. I'm sure it's just the jitters. She's ready for this, but of course I'll talk to her. And, you don't have to tell me how dangerous it is out there. Are you okay, Nealy?”

“No, Dillon, I'm not okay. I'm worried about Emmie. I think she has it in her head that she has to show off for certain people who came here today just to see her ride. If that is her attitude, it's all wrong. Look, I tried, now it's your turn. She sees me as a jealous mother who doesn't want her to succeed. I don't want her getting killed out there. Sometimes, like just now, she's
spacey.
When she's out there on that track, there are no buffers, no one to help her the way we've all helped her. It's just her and Hifly. If she's off her stride, if she isn't one with him, it's all over.”

“You make it sound ominous, Nealy.”

“That's because it
is
ominous, Dillon. I know what I'm talking about. Will you please do what you can?”

Seventy-five minutes before post time, Hatch arrived with a black, shiny garment bagâhis wife's Derby attire. He found her pacing the breezeway, her eyes on an ambulance at the entrance to Churchill Downs. It was always in readiness. The moment she saw her husband approaching, she ran to him.

“What's wrong?”

“I'll tell you what's wrong. I have two horses here scheduled to run in the Kentucky Derby and I have no jockeys. No jockeys, Hatch.” The wail of the siren went unnoticed as her eyes raked the barn for a sign of Lee and Emmie.

“Calm down, honey, they're probably getting dressed. You used to wait till the last minute to put on your silks. Where's Jake?”

“Maybe with his mother. I haven't seen him either.”

“They're right over there, and there's Jake. Uh-oh, something's wrong.”

Jake skidded to a stop in front of Nealy. He struggled to get the words out of his mouth. For the first time, Nealy saw the silks he was holding in his hands. Her eyes widened in alarm.

Jake's arm shot out, pointing to the ambulance leaving the grounds. “It's Lee. He doubled over. The EMS guys said they think his appendix ruptured.”

“Oh, my God! Hatch, we have to scratch Gadfly.”

“No! No, don't do that, Aunt Nealy. I'll ride him.”

“Jake, no. He's way too much horse for you at this point in your career. We have to scratch him.”

“Please, Aunt Nealy, I can do it. I'm not scared. I've ridden him before. He knows me. Not as well as Lee, but he does know me. I can do it. Please. I don't know if I can win, but I'd like to try.”

“Your mother . . .”

“She's right over there, Aunt Nealy. Talk to her.”

“Mom?”

Nealy whirled around to see Emmie and her father standing behind her. “What is it, Emmie? I kind of have my hands full right now. What?” she said, her eyes going from her daughter to her father.

“I can't do it,” Emmie said, bursting into tears.

“What?” Nealy all but screamed.

Emmie held out her shaking hands. “I thought . . . I can't . . . Dad . . .”

“She can't do it, Nealy.”

“Damn it, Emmie, you waited till one hour till post time to tell me. See, this is what I mean about you and how irresponsible you are. We talked after dawn. It's now almost post time. You said you could do it. You swore you could do it. You told me to mind my own damn business when I questioned you. What is it with you, Emmie?”

Emmie drew herself up tall. “I don't want all of them to see me fail. I'd rather not ride than go through that.”

Nealy threw her hands high in the air. Sixty minutes. She had sixty minutes to make decisions. She ran over to Sunny and dropped to her knees. “Listen to me, Sunny, Emmie isn't going to race. Lee Liu has been taken to the hospital. They think his appendix ruptured. I can scratch both horses or I can let Jake ride Hifly. Tell me what to do, Sunny. I need to hear you tell me it's okay.”

Sunny strained to see her son over the heads of the people milling about her. She smiled when he waved at her. She looked Nealy directly in the eyes. “Is he good enough to ride, to come out
whole?
I'm not talking about winning.”

Nealy reached for Sunny's hands. “He's way better than good, Sunny. He's damn near perfect.”

“Then tell him I said to go for it.”

Nealy smiled. “I'll tell him.”

Nealy sprinted back to the barn. “Get ready, Jake. You're riding Hifly. There's no time for modesty here, strip down,” she said, as she grabbed the silks from Dillon Roland's hands. “We only have fifty minutes. What did you do with Lee's silks?” she asked, peeling off her blouse.

“Nealy, what the hell are you doing?” Hatch thundered.

“What's it look like I'm doing? I'm changing my clothes. Everybody, turn around, I'm bashful.”

“Mom . . .”

“Be quiet, Emmie. I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth. Know this, young woman, it's going to be a cold day in hell before I ever believe anything you tell me again.”

“Mom . . .”

Nealy turned around, one leg in and one out of her jeans. “Yes, Nick?”

He blinked. “I guess this isn't a good time to introduce Annabel Lee. Kick some ass, Mom. We'll meet you in the winner's circle.”

Nealy paused to stare at her son for a few precious seconds. “I'll meet you later, but that's the guy who will be in the winner's circle,” she said, pointing to Jake.

“Hatch, quick, go make the changes. Cordell, get your butt over here!” Nealy shouted. She could hear Emmie sobbing in the background. She turned to look at her daughter just in time to see Dillon Roland take a step away from her. Later, she would think about what that meant, if anything.

She was finally dressed. She looked over at Jake, who gave her a thumbs-up. All she could do was nod.
I'm not doing this. This is somebody else in my body. Some stupid person who keeps forgetting how old she is.
Her adrenaline kicked in when she heard her name over the loudspeaker and the roar from the crowd. It kicked in a second time when the announcer called Jake's name. An ear-piercing whistle sounded over the roar from the crowd when the announcer shouted that both horses were from Blue Diamond Farms and sired by Triple Crown winner Shufly.

“That was me!” Sunny shouted. “I can still do that!” Nealy threw back her head and laughed.
Age is a number. You can overcome anything and everything if you try hard enough. Just look at Sunny!
She pep talked herself.

“Hurry, everyone. Get to the box. They're going to call for Riders Up, and I want you to see Jake ride out into the sunshine.”

“Nealy.”

BOOK: Kentucky Sunrise

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