The Charity (20 page)

Magnus’ unreadable eyes gave no flicker of emotion. “That’s impossible. I heard that she died in a tragic fire. You must be mistaken.” His voice was smooth and conveyed the same lack of emotion as his eyes.

“We all know that wasn’t handled well.”

“I heard it was handled perfectly,” growled Magnus.

Rowdy fumbled with a newspaper stuffed into the breast pocket of his slightly malodorous jacket. “Nope. Notta chance. Look here.” He waived a copy of the Louisville Sunday News under the nose of his superior. Prominently displayed in a large color photo was a foursome of weary but smiling equestrians holding a wealth of trophies. Rowdy shoved his stubby finger into the face of one of the riders.

The old man betrayed nothing but impatience. “It says that the name of the woman is ‘Tess White, formerly of Utah.’ Why do you bother me so much with this?”

“Yeah, the paper might say she’s Tess White, but I think she’s someone you know.” Rowdy was beginning to be frustrated. This was not going as he had planned. By this point, he thought that he would have been offered the coveted glass of brandy that was the traditional drink of celebration with the Chairman. He forced the point further.

“I had heard about this young thang training a friend’s horse that had a bad attitude and makin’ some progress. I found out that, before then, she was working on some dude ranch in Utah and doin’ some skiing. No one had heard of her before she got there to that ranch or since she left. That place she worked at was no college university for learnin’ how to train. So, she musta learned ‘er stuff from somewhere else.” The old man shifted in his seat showing a growing feeling of impatience.

Rowdy understood and rushed on. “Look at that story about how that team won the Pace. No one just learns how to ride a horse like that let alone train one outta thin air. So, I was curious about her and made a point a’ introducin’ mahself at the celebration ball. I thought she might have known some ol’ friends that would explain how she came to be such an expert. She just looked familiar to me, too. And when I asked her to tell me about herself, she just about shook herself apart with nerves. I ain’t never seen anything like it. And when I said her name with my twang, Why-iet, Why-iet, she just about jumped outta her skin! Why that made me start thinkin’ too, an’ I got out my old racing books. That’s when it hit me for sure. That there
is
Jessica Wyeth and no one can tell me otherwise!” Another torrent of spittle escaped from his mouth and rained down onto the wrinkled newspaper.

The old man looked at the panting Rowdy Howe through a boiling cloud of pipe smoke. His velvety smooth voice was coached into a soothing tone for the rattled southerner. “I certainly appreciate your coming to me with this most unusual piece of information. But I do know that a young woman died seven years ago in a tragic and unexplainable explosion and that young woman was conclusively identified as Jessica Wyeth. I think the stresses of your service are beginning to wear on you, Mr. Howe. Perhaps you should take some time to yourself.”

“Damnation! I know that this girl is Jim Wyeth’s daughter. The way she coaxed that snotty beast of Bleauvelt’s over that ravine and the way she knew that hack could jump
back over
the ravine just smacks of Wyeth and Gus Adams. And I’ll prove it to you!” The last words were yelled in desperation and as a challenge.

Three soft knocks were heard on the mahogany doors. Reflexively, the men forced smiles on to their faces and began to laugh at some unspoken joke. The door opened, and an attractive woman in her mid-fifties entered the room carrying a tray. Her face had the fine lines of her Irish heritage etched carefully upon it. Her auburn hair was softly streaked with white, and her nicely rounded figure showed years of living a fine life. She wore a simple but expensively made dress in a soft heather color. She smiled shyly at her husband and bowed slightly to his guest.

Magnus looked at his wife with love as she set a tray down with a fresh pot of tea and removed the old service. He never thought he could ever take another wife after his first wife died. But Catherine was so earnest in her desire to take care of him. He looked at her approvingly as she exchanged another round of pleasantries with Rowdy. He granted her requested permission to leave.

A burst of sparks snapped loudly and drifted up the chimney. The soft hiss of the fire was all that could be heard in the darkly lit room. Another cold chill sliced into the back of Rowdy’s neck.

The old man lifted his head and spoke in the direction of the dark shadows in the back of the room. “It seems that Mr. Howe has an idea in his head that won’t die.” The shadows shifted imperceptibly. “I think we need to reassure Mr. Howe that he is indeed in need of a long rest. I believe you know the questions that need to be answered.” His pipe glowed adding brush strokes of red to his bushy white eyebrows and hair. His eyes were still safely draped in their thick lids.

The shadows began to pour themselves into a human form. Rowdy felt his bowels drop as the shadows ran up from their deep pool forming legs, then body, then head. The figure gradually stepped into the hated light of the fire. He was dressed completely in black and materialized out of the recesses of the room.

The figure stood easily in the presence of the old man. His strong body was relaxed and uncoiled. He stared coldly at Rowdy. “So, you think we ought to pay a visit on an old acquaintance, do ya” The words sounded odd to Rowdy’s ears. ‘So, ye tink we ought ‘a pay uh visit on en uld akquaintance do ye?’ Flames seemed to flicker along the smooth line of the scarred cheek.

Rowdy looked back and forth from the figure to the old man in barely concealed panic. “What! No! I’ll bring back the proof by myself. I don’t need any help.”

Magnus ignored the plea. “This article says that Miss Tess White has purchased a farm. I think that sounds like a woman who would welcome a visitor or two, especially ones that share such an interest in horses. One settled person is a greater threat to us than an army of soldiers running in fear. They have time to reflect, to put their affairs in order. To us, they become a talking target, wouldn’t you agree?” Sparks screamed from their red nooks and raced up the chimney to escape the prodding of the hot metal rod. The hiss of the fire grew louder, and the flames began to gnaw on more of the logs. “It’s a pity at how dangerous life in the country can be. Why there are any number of unfortunate accidents I hear of each year. Every man knows that living alone invites nothing but trouble to a beautiful girl.” The words were spoken as if he was thinking out loud. “But, enough of my concerns. Mr. Howe, I’m sure you’ll be most happy to escort my friend on a visit to your Miss White. We can put those misplaced ideas of her being an acquaintance of mine to rest once and for all.”

Electra looked at Jessica with a mixture of amusement and concern. Jessica was busy hosing down a horse after a workout. Dressed in jeans, a pair of leather chaps, cowboy boots and a short jacket, Jessica had slipped in the mud and was covered head-to-toe with black muck.

“So, this is the Cinderella who came to my ball?” Electra teased.

Jessica looked at her with mock anger and threatened to turn the hose on her. “You know, you have caused me more trouble than I can think of by twisting my arm to go to your party. I should have just gone home like I wanted to! My phone hasn’t stopped ringing with people who want me to train or are inviting me to some event or another!”

“You ungrateful wench!” Electra threw her head back with laughter. “How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice. You should show your elders some respect or I shall be forced to write about your rude behavior in my column!”

Jessica leaned forward and summoned all the playful menace she could and glowered. “If you do that, then I shall be forced to take that extraordinary bay stallion of yours, geld him and turn him into a trail hack.”

Both women smiled warmly at one another. Electra had grown very fond of Jessica in a short period of time. Electra’s stature in town and society made it difficult for people to feel quite at home with her. Heiress to a large publishing fortune, people were wholly intimidated by her stature or tried to get close because of it. Therefore, Electra and her husband were on constant guard against any person with less than honest motives in getting to know her. That never stopped her from throwing lavishly huge parties and inviting nearly everyone of consequence, but it was only a chosen few that she would invite to her home for intimate dinners and talks. Jessica kept a maddening distance from Electra and surprised her by respectfully declining any assistance of her power. It was also Jessica’s irreverent way of talking to Electra that she found so gleefully refreshing.

Electra leaned her crossed arms along the top rail of the fence and adopted her formal inquisitive tone. “May I ask if one of those phone calls came from a Mr. Michael Conant?”

Jessica led the dripping mare over to the older woman and paused. “Yes,” she replied with a hint of coyness, “He called me the other day to inquire about a space for a friend’s horse that is going to have a foal soon. He said his friend needed a better facility for the birth. All very business-like.”

Electra was not fooled by her muddy friend’s cool manner. “I’ve run into him several times. He asks about you and I have it on good authority that he has more than a casual interest in you. My chauffeur dutifully reported back about the kiss the night of my ball.” She was pleased when she saw the color rush into Jessica’s cheeks. “How would you like to come to my home for dinner tonight?” Electra said trying to sound offhand. She had been trying to get the two of them to her home for dinner on several occasions, and she was frustrated that her young friend always fended her off.

“Tonight? Oh, um, no. I couldn’t possibly. I’m expecting two more horses to be delivered tonight, and I’m interviewing a few people to help out with the basic care of the barn while I focus my efforts on training. Now that word has gotten around about my success at the hunter pace, people are eager to place their most troublesome horses with me. My barn is nearly full, and I’ve become too busy to do everything myself.”

Jessica paused and looked down at her mud-encrusted clothes. “Besides, it’s going to take me forever to get cleaned up. Thanks anyway for inviting me. Please don’t be offended but you always write about your dinner parties in your column for your daddy’s newspaper, too.”

Electra gasped then laughed at Jessica’s irreverence. “You disrespectful girl!”

“I’ve just had enough attention lately,” Jessica continued warmly. “Why don’t you come here after dinner tomorrow for a cup of coffee? I’ve bought some outrageous chocolate thing from the bakery in town.”

Electra sighed. “You are impossible! You turn each of my invitations to my house into a dessert at yours! Look at me! I’m getting pudgy!” She patted her ample waist. “I had hoped to surprise you, but now my plans are foiled. I think Michael was going to stop by.”

Jessica gave a sideways glance. “I had that feeling.”

“Tess! You are maddening! If you keep refusing the invitations you are getting, the well will dry up!”

“Electra, I appreciate all that you are trying to do for me. I’m just not comfortable around a lot of people right now. I’m sure I’ll be ready to be more social later, but right now I need to prove myself to the owners of these horses that I am a serious trainer, not just some lucky twit.”

Electra smiled in admiration at her new friend. Tess White was someone who wanted to make a name for herself on her own merits, not the coattails of a wealthy socialite like herself. Everything about her intrigued Electra. Her knowledge of horses and her looks were both certainly eye-catching, but she had a noticeable well-bred quality about herself. Electra loved a good puzzle and frequently won a gentlewomen’s wager on the lineage of one newcomer or another, but this one had her duly stumped. Each time she began to probe for background information, her young friend would head her off down another stream of conversation. Always laughing, always bright and pleasant, but never answering the question. The inquiries she made to Utah brought up dead ends. She toyed with the idea of pursing a more investigative approach.

Electra gave a throaty laugh. “I dare say, child, that you are considered to be far from a twit. Although if someone had only seen you in that sheath of a dress you were almost wearing at my ball, without my expert guidance as to your character, they might think ‘twit’ was too easy a word for you.”

“Electra!” Jessica squealed with a flash of embarrassment. “You have no idea how self-conscious I felt in that dress. Lainely was right when she said I wouldn’t fit in it.”

Electra gave Jessica a cat-like grin. “Well, judging from the way even she was looking at you that night, I would wager that she’s going to buy all of her gowns a size too small.”

Their banter was interrupted by the sound of a motor laboring up the last part of the road to Jessica’s farm. A Ford F150 pickup truck pulling a Kingston two-horse trailer turned up Jessica’s drive. The other occupants to the barn began to whinny excitedly at the arrival of yet another horse.