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Authors: Fern Michaels

Kentucky Heat

BOOK: Kentucky Heat
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FERN MICHAELS
 
 
 
KENTUCKY HEAT
 
 
 
 
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
For my friend Douglas Charles Girton
Prologue
Mitch Cunningham stood at the entrance to Blue Diamond Farms, his legs spread apart, his hands on his hips. He squared off his hands into a box to stare at the luscious Kentucky landscape in front of him. He adjusted his dark glasses, then took them off. The baseball cap, which said NY Yankees, was pushed farther back on his head so as not to obstruct his view. And what a view it was. Thick velvety bluegrass, miles of white board fencing, rolling hills, a colony of barns, and the main house, which looked like something out of a Thomas Kincaid painting. Perfect for an opening shot in a movie. Just perfect.
Cinematographer by profession, he could see the opening scene in the movie he hoped to film, thanks to his bosses at Triple-Star Pictures. He didn't have a doubt in the world that he could turn the film into another
Gone With the Wind.
What he did have doubts about, however, was getting Nealy Coleman Diamond Clay to okay the project and allow the film to be made there on Blue Diamond Farms.
NCDC, as his bosses called Nealy Coleman Diamond Clay, was going to be a hard nut to crack. A very private person, they said. The promise of big money wouldn't mean a thing to her. Find her Achilles' heel and home in on it, they suggested. Think major box office, think movie of the century had been their litany when they presented the idea to him. The head honcho, carried away with a possible Academy Awards sweep, had fixed his steely eyes on Mitch, and said, “I don't want to see your face in these offices until you have a signed deal. We're giving you six months to lock in the deal and another seven months to make the film. With full pay and your usual percentage.”
Then the honcho with the steely eyes pointed to two cardboard cartons. “Those boxes contain background files on NCDC from the day she was born. And”—he'd wagged his finger—“background files on everyone who is, or ever was, involved in her life right up to the present. If NCDC takes home a second Triple Crown, we have a home run in the making.”
He'd taken the job because he would have been a fool not to.
He was here now to scout it out and make his pitch to NCDC. He chuckled as he made his way back to his car. He'd never been up close and personal with a horse before. In fact, the only real live horses he'd ever seen were on studio lots and from a distance.
Mitch settled himself in the driver's seat of the customized Jag. He reached for the folder on the passenger seat. The previous night in his hotel room, he'd separated the wheat from the chaff, and what he had before him were his notes, which he knew by heart.
Three families intertwined. The Colemans of Texas, the Thorntons of Las Vegas, and this branch of the family, whose matriarch was Nealy Coleman Diamond Clay. His index finger went down the long list.
Texas. Seth Coleman, deceased. He, like his sister Sallie and his brother Josh, had come from humble beginnings. Struck it rich in oil, branched out to aeronautics, raised cattle. Home base, Sunbridge. They could shoot some scenes there, too, if this was going to be the epic he planned.
For many years it was thought old Seth only had two children, Moss and Amelia. Later in the movie, he would prove that wrong. Seth had disowned Amelia, and she went off to England. Later she married Cary Asante and died, never having reconciled with her father. Moss had married a girl named Billie from Philadelphia, who gave him three children, Maggie, Susan, and young Riley, who was killed in the war. Moss was a bounder. Mitch knew just the actor to play that part. Billie and Moss were estranged long before he died, but she took care of him at the end. That would tie in to a wonderful tear-jerking scene. He closed his eyes to picture a young Moss in his Navy whites standing next to one of the planes he flew during the war. Yeah, yeah, the actor he had in mind could really pull that off. The trials and tribulations of the family might eat into his time, but he could do it. A spin-off from the movie was not out of the question.
Somehow he was going to have to fit in the Japanese Hasegawas. He blinked at the net worth of that particular branch of the family. Production costs could get dicey if he had to shoot on location in Japan. He'd work that out, too.
Then came the Thorntons. Sallie Coleman Thornton, married to a schoolteacher from Boston. Saloon singer and lady of the night to a prospector named Cotton Easter, who died and left her everything he owned. He blinked again at the Thorntons' net worth. The casinos they owned would juice up the movie. Two sons born to that union, Ash and Simon. Navy whites again. Tomcats or whatever planes they flew in those days. He'd have to get some Navy approval along the way. He wondered where the USS
Enterprise
was these days. To be dealt with. Fanny Thornton, married to both brothers. On his deathbed, first husband shoots brother—and second husband—dead. Talk about drama!
Mitch's eyes rolled back in his head. Four children to that union, twins, Birch and Sage, Billie, and Sunny, who suffered from some debilitating disease. Another tearjerker. They lived on and owned a goddamn mountain that burned to the ground and was then replanted by one of the richest men in the world, Metaxas Parish. Metaxas Parish was married to Ruby Thornton, who had recently undergone a double mastectomy. If he did that right, he might be able to further the breast-cancer cause among women. Her mother was a lady of the evening like Sallie Thornton. Metaxas Parish would be bigger than life in the movie since he had the ear of presidents and queens. The scriptwriter was going to have a ball with the screenplay, which would probably go to four hundred pages or more. All the family interaction could be shown in the spin-off. Yeah, yeah, definitely a spin-off. He was clicking, his adrenaline flowing.
Nealy Coleman Diamond Clay booted out of her family home, SunStar Farms, in Virginia. Booted out with a baby born out of wedlock. Suspected father is Dillon Roland but not confirmed. Gentleman farmer and horse owner. Land fight over SunStar, with Colemans of Texas battling NCDC. Two brothers, Rhy and Pyne, retained SunStar in the end, thanks to NCDC. Great character parts for the brothers.
Nealy Coleman Diamond Clay. The little seventeen-year-old unwed mother who stepped into a fortune and rode to a Triple Crown. Adopted by Maud and Jess Wooley, she kept the name Diamond at Maud's request. Married to Hunter Clay, who died too early in his life. A son Nick born to the marriage. Nealy had raised another horse who was a serious contender for a second Triple Crown, with Nealy up. A grandmother jockey! Women were going to love it. He could see her face splashed across the world. Disney would probably make Nealy Coleman Diamond Clay dolls.
Then there were the horses. Flyby and Shufly. Father and son. Thoroughbreds worth millions of dollars. Sleek, racing machines who lived to cross the finish line.
Mitch slapped the folder back onto the seat. All he needed was a solid gold sales pitch and Nealy Coleman Diamond Clay to sign on the dotted line. He settled his sunglasses and baseball cap more firmly on his head, started the engine, and headed down the road that would take him to Blue Diamond Farms.
P
ART
I
1
Nealy staggered to the corner of Misty Blue's birthing stall, where she leaned against the slatted wall, then slid to the ground. She wrapped her arms around her knees to stop the trembling in her arms and legs. She'd had no sleep at all for the past forty-eight hours and was operating on pure adrenaline. She wanted to sleep, needed to sleep, but she didn't dare close her eyes in case the fragile newborn colt needed her. A wan smile tugged at the corners of her mouth when she heard Flyby nicker softly. “I hear you, big guy. Your son is doing just fine, and so is his mama. It was touch-and-go there for a while, but then I guess you know that. I don't want you worrying one little bit.” A second nicker, this one softer, echoed in Nealy's ears. “All's right with your world, eh, Flyby?”
As if in answer, Flyby whinnied.
“Everything is all right with his world, but it sure isn't right with mine right now. I think this straw has bugs in it.”
“Ruby! Are you awake? Are you okay?”
“I'm as okay as I can be for going without sleep for forty-eight hours,” Ruby said in a hoarse voice as she peeked through the slats into Misty Blue's stall. “Ah, look at him, Nealy, he's so gorgeous he takes my breath away.” She gazed at the colt adoringly. “Metaxas is going to go over the moon when he gets here later today.”
Nealy smiled at Ruby. Ruby Thornton Parish, married to one of the richest men in the world, and here she was, virtually living in Nealy's barn, helping with the horses and having the time of her life. Metaxas Parish, Ruby's husband, had planted an entire mountain for Fanny Thornton years ago when it had burned to the ground. As Ruby said, all Metaxas did was good things for other people.
According to Ruby, Metaxas knew everyone in the world, and everyone knew who Metaxas Parish was because of his philanthropies. Nealy knew it was all true one day when the phone rang and the call was for Metaxas from the president of the United States asking him for help in some third world country.
Metaxas had scoured the world to get Ruby the best of the best when she was diagnosed with cancer. It made no difference to him that she'd had both breasts removed. He just held her and cried and cried because he loved her so much.
The new foal was for Metaxas, a birthday present to the man who had everything in the world.
Nealy looked at Ruby. She was so alive, so healthy. Her hair had grown in curly red and was about two inches long. She looked like a middle-aged cherub with twinkling green eyes.
Nealy rolled her eyes. Ruby, one of the richest women in the world, mucked the stalls, brushed the horses, and pitched hay. And she loved every minute of it.
Nealy yawned. “I hope we're both awake to see his reaction,” she said as she struggled to her feet. Every muscle in her body ached with the exertions of the last two days. She was getting too old to wrestle an eleven-hundred-pound mare to lie down or hold still. Even though she was still in good physical condition, it was too much. Still, it was the bed she'd chosen to lie in so to speak, so lie in it she would, straw and all, for as long as she could.
Nealy raised her arm toward the light so she could read her watch. “When I get my hands on my two kids, I am going to strangle them,” she said, stretching her aching back. “They know the first rule of this farm is someone is always here. I let them convince me that a week's vacation for everyone wasn't going to make the world come to an end. Yes, we have good help, yes, we left everything in capable hands, but there are always the what-ifs. What if I had decided to stay an extra few days with Ken? It's a damn good thing I didn't. I had this really weird feeling I should come home early. Don't ask me why because I can't explain it. Am I the only responsible family member around here? If I hadn't come back when I did, God only knows what would have happened. I'm so angry I could chew nails and spit rust. Not even a phone call from either of them. Two weeks, Ruby. They each took an extra week and didn't say boo to me. No calls, no nothing. It's unconscionable.”
“I'm sure there's a good reason,” Ruby said wearily. “Why don't you go up to the house and take a shower. I'll call you if anything goes wrong. Will you trust me with the colt, Nealy?”
“Of course I trust you. I would trust you with my life for God's sake.” Nealy picked up her Stetson out of the straw and hit it against her leg to shake off the straw cleaving to the soft felt. Ruby was right. A shower was just what she needed. A long, hot, wonderful shower. She'd always thought she did some of her best thinking in the shower, and right now there were some hard decisions she had to make.
“The vet will be back in about an hour. Just talk to them, Ruby. Try not to fall asleep till I get back, then I'll spell you. This is the most crucial time for this little guy. God, we almost lost this beautiful baby.” She straightened her hat. “Look at him, curious as all get-out. Okay, I'm outta here for some clean clothes and fresh coffee.”
A voice boomed from the far end of the barn. “Ma! We're home!”
Nealy froze.
Not now,
she thought.
Not now. I need to think things through a little more to know what I need to do.
Ruby dashed out into the breezeway and caught Nealy just as she was leaving Misty Blue's stall. “Ask questions before you say anything,” she said, wiggling her finger in warning. “You might be surprised at the answers. That means take it easy, Nealy.”
Nealy took a deep breath, exhaling it in an angry
swoosh.
She jammed her hands into her pockets so they would stop shaking.
“Ma . . .” His eyes took in the blood on Nealy's shirt. “What happened? Oh, my God, the colt came early. Jeez, Ma, I'm sorry I wasn't here.” He was tall, his lanky form casting a shadow in the breezeway, Willow at his side. Nealy saw him squeeze Willow's hand and knew he realized he was in deep trouble.
Good,
she thought. His eyes took on a wary look as he shuffled his feet on the concrete.
“It's pretty obvious, isn't it, Nick? The colt came early, and we damn near lost him.” She paused to let her words sink in before asking, “Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be here a week ago. Wipe that sappy look off your face. This is a working farm in case you didn't know that. You have responsibilities like the rest of us. I let you talk me into a week, Nick. A week is seven days, not fourteen days. You knew the deal. The workers who spelled us got their time off the day after New Year's. That left us shorthanded. Did you know and do you care? Bradley broke a leg on New Year's Eve. Donald is in the hospital undergoing an emergency gallbladder operation, and we have six men out with the flu as of yesterday. Everyone has been pulling double shifts, and they're tired. We all did your work while you frolicked in the snow and your sister is on some luxury ocean liner God only knows where. If it wasn't for me and Ruby, this colt would be dead. Neither one of us has had any sleep for two days, and for days before that an hour here or there when we were able to snatch one. Why didn't you call me? This would be a very good time to offer up an explanation, Nick.”
“I thought Emmie . . .”
“You thought Emmie would cover for you, I know. And she might have if she wasn't off sunning herself on God only knows what ocean.” Her son's look of surprise told her he thought Emmie was at the farm. It was no excuse.
Ruby reached out to touch Nealy's shaking shoulder. Nealy shrugged it off as she stalked toward her son. Willow, the household cook and Nick's skiing companion, cowered behind him as Nealy jabbed a finger into her son's chest, forcing him backward. Flyby snorted his displeasure. Ruby cringed against the stall. “Is there a reason why you didn't call, Nick?” She sounded angry even to her own ears. Angry, hurt, and disappointed. He wasn't the young man she thought he was. Maybe someday he would be, but not now.
“I got married, Ma. Willow and I went to Vegas and tied the knot after our ski trip. That's why I'm late.”
“You
what
?”
“We got married,” Nick said, his eyes wary at the expression on his mother's face. Willow still cowered behind him.
Nealy closed her eyes to let his words sink in. If she'd been angry, hurt, and disappointed before, she was doubly so now. Stung to the quick by her son's words, she retaliated. “Pack your bags and get out. Now!”
Nick's gaze ricocheted first to Willow and then to his mother. “Ma! What the hell? Ruby, do something? Say something.”
“You heard me. What part of ‘pack your bags and get out' don't you understand?” Her voice belied her inner turmoil. The only thing that could save her from breaking down was to walk away.
“You're fired, Willow,” Nealy shot over her shoulder as she stalked out of the barn.
“Ruby . . .”
Ruby stared helplessly at the young man and his frightened bride. She shook her head as she tried to soothe Flyby, who was pawing the gate to his stall. She was only a few feet from his stall when he kicked the stall door so hard that splinters of wood flew in every direction. A second kick sent the door flying off its hinges. The big horse charged out into the breezeway, ears back, nostrils flaring.
Ruby screamed when she saw him heading for Nick. She'd learned enough about horses since coming here to Blue Diamond Farms to know that stallions could be extremely dangerous.
“Flyby!” Nick shouted in an attempt to control the horse, but Flyby wasn't listening. Snorting and tossing his head, the stallion pushed Nick into the tack room opposite his stall, pushed him so hard that Nick lost his balance and fell.
Willow screamed.
Ruby gasped.
Satisfied that he'd had his say, Flyby whinnied before he ran after Nealy.
“Son of a bitch!” Nick groaned as he struggled to pick himself up off the floor. “I think that damn horse broke my ribs.”
“Then you better see a doctor,” Ruby said, not unkindly. “The vet is due any minute. He can look you over and maybe strap up your chest.”
“Ruby . . .”
“No, Nick, I can't intervene. Nealy told me the first time I met her that this farm, these horses, take precedence over everything. Maud and Jess instilled that creed in her, and she abides by it. Otherwise, it doesn't work. She was always so proud of the way you and Emmie adapted to it. Your mother was right, there are telephones. If I were you, I'd do what she says until she cools down.”
Nick's eyes almost popped from their sockets. “Are you saying I should leave here? This is my home. Where am I supposed to go?”
“It
was
your home,” Ruby said quietly.
“I . . . I . . . have a contract,” Willow whispered.
Ruby guffawed as she offered up a withering look. “I would imagine, knowing Nealy, that when you go up to the house, there will be a check waiting and your pots and pans will be on the porch. I don't think this is a good time to try to negotiate. What were you thinking, Nick? You don't get married and
not
tell your mother.”
“I guess I . . . Come on, Willow, let's get your stuff and get out of here. Thanks for nothing, Ruby.”
“Just a damn minute, Nick. You're the one at fault here, not me. Don't take your anger out on me. Like everyone else on this farm, I covered for you and Emmie. In case you haven't noticed, your mother and I both look like death warmed over, as does every other person working here. I haven't had any sleep either. Your mother and I did what the four of us should have done because that's what you do when a crisis arises. Look to yourself before you start blaming others.”
“Bullshit!” Nick snapped.
“Wrong animal,” Ruby snapped in return. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the bright morning sun invading the breezeway to see Nealy trying to soothe Flyby as he gently pushed her toward the back porch steps that would allow her the height to heft herself onto his back. Ruby could only imagine what she was saying to her prize stallion.
She continued to watch as a Dodge Durango, Emmie and Buddy's 4-by-4, skidded to a stop in the courtyard next to the back porch. She continued to watch as Nick wrapped his arms around his middle and hobbled over to Emmie's SUV, Willow close behind. And then all hell broke loose. Flyby reared up as Nealy grabbed his mane to secure her seat on his back. Ruby could hear angry sounds but couldn't distinguish the words.
“I hope your excuse is a lot better than your brother's, Emmie. You're a week late. Misty Blue birthed early.” Nealy took a deep, sobering breath so she could say what she needed to say. “Make it good, girl, because you aren't going to get up to bat again. I can't believe how irresponsible the two of you are. I'm waiting, Emmie.”
“Buddy left me. He went back to Ohio. He left me stranded at the ship. Stranded, Mom.”
Nealy clenched her teeth. “I gave you a week because you and your brother convinced me it would be okay. One week, not two. There are telephones. If you think so little of this farm and me, so be it. We have rules here, and you and your brother know what they are. You both broke those rules. If your husband left you, it is something you have to deal with. I have a farm to run here.”
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