A Little Bit of Charm (41 page)

Jake clicked his cell phone shut, and for a long time he simply stared out the hotel room window. A steady rain beat against the glass, matching his dismal mood. His sister's compassion and willingness to love him unconditionally only further underscored his shortcomings. Yet at the same time, Jessie had also given him a glimmer of hope. Rachel still loved him. She regretted breaking up and wanted to get back together. If only he could fix the mess he'd created with this horse.

He no longer wanted to be the proud owner of a Kentucky Derby winner.

He no longer wanted to be a member of horse racing's elite inner circle, throwing money around wherever necessary to put on a good show.

He only wanted to be Jake Brady, son of Ken and Taylor, boyfriend of Rachel King, just an average-joe trainer of average-joe horses. But was he ready to go back to Casey County and face the music for his lies and duplicity? He had little choice. But first he needed to talk to a friend—call a lifeline, as they say on TV.

Jake drove back to the racetrack, parked in the guest lot, and hiked to the trackside chapel. Ed Bonner would be able to give him advice. He'd already straightened out a boatload of misconceptions Jake had about being a Christian. But when Jake entered the chapel-on-wheels, he was greeted by a scribbled note, not a two-hundred-pound, shaved-head former felon with a heart of gold.
Be back later, called away on an emergency. Ed
. Without any other place to go, Jake lowered himself onto a folding chair. First, he studied things hanging on the wall: framed scenes from the
Bible, including Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane and Moses parting the Red Sea; several standard prayer plaques, including the Serenity Prayer used by Alcoholics Anonymous; and various hand-lettered signs instructing visitors not to eat or drink here or conduct any business that wasn't the Lord's. He had a difficult time picturing someone pulling out an Avon catalog or advertising flyers for their farrier service, but one could never predict human behavior.

With his perusal of the surroundings complete, Jake bowed his head in prayer. He prayed for forgiveness for an ongoing pattern of selfishness and arrogance. Once he finally exhausted that minefield, he prayed for a way out of this mess for his family's sake. He might deserve to live under the freeway overpass in a cardboard box, but his family did not. Tears started anew as they did each time he revisited his shame.

Suddenly, the jangle of his phone nearly knocked him off his chair. “Jake Brady,” he said with a voice dry and raspy.

“Hello, Mr. Brady? This is Alfred Terry. Do you remember me? We talked a few weeks ago.”

Jake's mind whirred, landing on the possible connection.
No, it couldn't be
. He squeezed his eyes shut, barely able to breathe. “I think so,” he stammered, sounding much like an adolescent.

“I represent the Terry Point Investment Consortium that's interested in Eager to Please. A few snowbird members have been attending the juvenile races and continue to be impressed with your colt. That horse keeps improving, almost on a daily basis.” He paused to give Jake a chance to speak.

He could barely string three words together. “We've been lucky so far.”

“Yes, you have. When the consortium got together today for lunch, your horse's name came up. We're prepared to up our original offer by twenty percent, hoping you'll change your mind about selling him. I know you've had your heart set on seeing your name
as owner on the Derby program someday, but what if we list you as breeder—Eager to Please, bred by Jake Brady, Twelve Elms Stables. Will that and the increased bid sweeten the pot sufficiently?”

Jake opened his eyes and focused on a picture hanging on the wall. Jumping up from his chair and screaming, “That would be awesome!” wouldn't be acceptable behavior in a house of the Lord, so he rose shakily to his feet and began pacing the room. This time his delayed response wasn't a sales maneuver but an attempt to regain composure. “Yes, Mr. Terry, I believe you have a deal. But I must clarify something—Twelve Elms owns Eager to Please, not just me. My parents also must sign off on the bill of sale, but I foresee no resistance to your offer. I can have our Kentucky attorney start drawing up the paperwork if you like.”

“Yes, I would, the sooner the better. I'm authorized to speak for the consortium. Will Tuesday of next week be enough time for your lawyer to prepare documents? I can fly up with my attorney and sign that afternoon if it would be convenient for your family.”

“I'll speak to my parents tonight, sir, but I'm fairly certain Tuesday will work out with their schedules. I'll get back to you tomorrow if there's a problem.”

“Splendid! I'll start making arrangements to move Eager to Please to our facilities, pending Tuesday's executed contract. Say, do you think your trainer, Mr. Hitchcock, might be interested in working for us to continue his program with Eager? Whatever he's doing seems to be effective. Of course, we would expect him to renegotiate his contract. And I don't wish to overstep any boundary if you wish to keep Mr. Hitchcock for another horse in your stable.”

Jake cleared his throat, hoping to sound professional and less like a man at the end of the plank on a pirate ship. “I can't speak for Mr. Hitchcock, but I will pass along your interest in his services. At this point, we own no other colts with Eager's potential.”

“Great news! Let me get the wheels turning on my end, Mr.
Brady, and pass the good news on to my partners. You've made me a very happy man.”

Alfred Terry hung up without hearing Jake's reply, which was just as well. The only words that came to mind were
Thank You, Lord
. When Ed returned from his errand twenty minutes later, Jake's head was bowed, his eyes still wet with his tears.

“Hey, what's wrong, man? What happened?” Ed put a meaty hand on his shoulder.

Scrambling to his feet, Jake embraced his friend in a bear hug. “You go first. Tell me about your emergency. Is there something I can do to help?”

“Everything is fine. My ma called all upset because her cat climbed high up a tree and refused to come down. She didn't want to bother the fire department. By the time I got there with an extension ladder, the cat had come down all by itself. Crisis averted.” Ed sat down and stretched out his muscular legs. “What's up with you?”

“Remember how I told you I got my family in over their heads because I wanted to become a big shot?” Jake slicked a hand through his hair.

Ed's mouth pulled into a grin. “Well, you had a few better reasons than that, but go on.”

“That man who earlier offered to buy our horse just called back. He's still interested and even upped the price.”

“What will you do? Hold out for the highest bidder?” Ed scratched his stubbly chin, smirking.

“I'm selling him as fast as our lawyer can draw up the papers. I can't wait to crawl out from under this pressure. But first I'm going home to tell my parents everything. They need to know what a jerk I turned into.”

“Nah. You just went through a temporary period of jerkiness. It happens to the best of us, but you seem to be recovering.”

“I used to think only the corrupt ever get ahead in this world, especially in the horse-racing business. Whether or not that's true, I don't want to live that way. At the time I asked God for help, He sent Alfred Terry back to me.”

“The Lord listens to prayer, Jake, but He usually doesn't answer quite so soon. Don't go getting spoiled, man. You can't expect immediacy every time.”

Jake shrugged. “I can't promise I won't goof up again. Is there any chance of moving this mobile trailer to Charm, Kentucky?”

Ed laughed. “There are churches all over the world. Pick one. But I'm staying down here where it's warm. You need to keep lines of communication open with
the Man
wherever you are.” He pointed toward the ceiling and then extended his hand. “If you do that, you'll be fine.”

Jake shook with more energy than necessary. “Thanks, Ed. I owe you.”

“Don't mention it. The next time I need a good talking-to, the roads that brought you south can take me north just as easily.” His expression softened. “What about that horse of yours? Can you bear to part with him after raising him from the moment he stood up on spindly legs?”

Jake pondered that for a moment. “I'll miss him, that's for sure. But Alfred Terry has a better chance of taking him all the way than Twelve Elms Stable. Deep pockets make a huge difference in the racing world. Wherever Eager to Please goes and whatever happens, a bit of him will always be mine, right here where it counts.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “No bill of sale in the world will ever change that.”

NINETEEN

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me

Kentucky

O
nce back in familiar territory, Jake went the long way around to reach Twelve Elms Stables. He wanted to drive through downtown Charm, all eight blocks of it. As though he'd been gone for a period of years rather than a month, he gazed at the historic town hall with its restored clock tower, the police station, county courthouse, furniture store, pizza shop, and the Tastee Freez, shuttered for the season. He admired the soaring steeples of three churches, one of them his—First Baptist. Like a tourist on a bus trip, he craned his neck with new appreciation.

A person never knows what he has until it's gone
. He'd almost lost everything he held dear trading his future on a long shot. Tired and stiff from fourteen hours on the road with only short caffeine and restroom breaks, Jake drove up his driveway with a surge of adrenaline. An energy drink couldn't match the jolt he received when the two-hundred-year-old house loomed into view.

It was late on a Saturday night. Rachel would have gone home to the Stolls by now. Jessie would be back on campus or out on a date. Keeley and Virgil should be in bed, but Keeley was probably reading or updating Facebook under her covers. And his parents? Mom either had to work or was preparing for tomorrow's adult Sunday school class. Dad, no doubt, had fallen asleep in his recliner watching college basketball. No matter how intense the action, Dad drifted off as soon as he put his feet up in a warm room. Jake sighed happily. It felt good to be home with the comfortable routines and people he loved.

Parking behind the house, Jake spotted his father exiting the family barn. Ken walked with his head down, as though deep in thought. “Everything okay with the horses?” Jake asked, stepping away from his truck.

Ken nearly jumped out of his work boots. “Good grief, Jake, don't sneak up on a man like that. You almost gave me a heart attack!” He pressed a palm against his chest.

“Sorry, Pops.” Jake ducked his head. “I thought you heard me coming. I'm not exactly the quiet type.”

Ken's arm slipped around his son's shoulder. “I've had a lot on my mind. Welcome home, son. It's good to see you.”

They embraced like typical men—brief and awkward, but a lump rose up Jake's throat just the same. “It's great to be back, Dad.”

Ken cocked his head to one side. “Jessie said you were upset about something but didn't say what. Are you ready to talk now?” Concern deepened his crow's-feet into creases.

“Sure, but let's go inside and warm up first. Jessie doesn't know my woes. That's why she couldn't spill the beans.” Jake retrieved his suitcase from his truck, along with empty fast-food wrappers and coffee cups, and followed his father up the steps. “Where is everybody?” he asked. The house was unnaturally dark and silent. Not even the TV droned in the living room.

“Your mom is working the late shift. She'll be home within the hour. Jessie took Keeley back to campus for a sleepover—some kind of a little sister thing. Keeley wore out her shoes shadowing Jessie this past week. Now she's dead set on attending U of K too.”

“Hasn't she figured out Jessie will have graduated by the time she gets there?”

“I don't think so, so don't point that out. We'll let the idea ride for a while. It's helping to improve her grades.” Ken pulled two soft drinks from the refrigerator and handed one to Jake, but he only switched on the light above the stove. Maybe he thought a dim atmosphere would make their heart-to-heart less intimidating. Both men sat down at the table.