- Book info
- Sample
- Media
- Author updates
- Lists
Synopsis
Josh Coleman left SunStar, the thoroughbred horse farm he'd built from nothing, unfinished when he took to his deathbed. But his family's unfinished business cannot be ignored now that his long-lost daughter has come back to settle an old score. No longer resembling the teenage waif who slipped away in the middle of the night with her illegitimate child thirty years ago, Nealy is rich, sophisticated, and renowned in the racing world-a woman to be reckoned with-and her shocking return changes everything for her two brothers, her daughter, and all the Thorntons and Colemans connected to SunStar. Surpassing herself once again, Fern Michaels ushers in an extraordinary new trilogy with this stunning novel that is as rich and lush as Kentucky bluegrass country itself.
Release date: April 7, 2011
Publisher: Zebra Books
Print pages: 336
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
Reader buzz
![](/img/default_avatar.png)
Author updates
Kentucky Rich
Fern Michaels
“Let me hold her while you stick your head under that steam tent I made for you. Land sakes, child, if you don’t take care of yourself, you’re going to end up in the hospital or the cemetery.” The housekeeper reached for the toddler, who was barely two years old.
“All right, Tessie, but you keep an eye out for Pa. I’ve still got three horses to groom, and you know how he is. He doesn’t like it when any of us get sick and can’t do our chores.” Nealy gave Emmie over to the housekeeper and sat down. “If you sing to Emmie, she’ll stop crying.”
Tessie walked around the kitchen with Emmie in her arms, crooning as she tried to calm the fretful child.
“Whatever you do,” Nealy added, “make sure supper isn’t late. Pa will take it out on me if it is.” Nealy stuck her head under the towel and struggled to take deep breaths from the bowl of steaming mentholated water. She could hear the old woman singing off-key to Emmie. Something about a blackbird baked in a pie. If she wasn’t so sick, she might have laughed.
Moments later Nealy heard the swinging door slam against the wall and ripped the towel away from her head. Her face dripping wet from the steam, she jerked around to face her father. In that one instant she saw everything in the huge kitchen: the coal stove and bucket, the stewpot on the stove, the old refrigerator, the clean crisp curtains hanging on the windows, her brothers Pyne and Rhy, and her hateful, angry father. So much for Tessie keeping an eye out.
The sound of rain hitting the back porch beat like a drum inside her head. Chills racked her body as she struggled to her feet. Afraid of what her father might do, she started to inch closer to Tessie and her daughter when his hand snaked out and pulled her back.
“What are you doin’ lollygaggin’ around in here when you have horses to tend, girl?”
Nealy threw her head back, lifted her chin, and met his angry gaze. “I wasn’t lollygagging, Pa. I was waiting for the rain to let up.”
Her father snickered in disgust. “Like hell you were,” he said, looking at the bowl of water. “You got a slicker, girl. Now git to it.”
Pyne stepped forward. “I can do her chores, Pa. Nealy’s sick.” Without warning, Josh Coleman swung his arm backward. Pyne took the blow full in the face. He reeled sideways, his hand going to his nose. Blood spurted out between his fingers. Rhy handed him a dish towel.
Tears filled Nealy’s eyes. She staggered over to the coatrack by the kitchen door. Her hands were trembling so badly she could barely take the slicker from the peg. She turned around as she put on her slicker and looked straight at Tessie, begging her with her eyes to take care of Emmie a little while longer. The old woman nodded in understanding. Nealy cringed when she heard her father say, “Put that drooling half-wit in her bed and get our supper on the table, woman.”
Outside in the pouring rain, Nealy trudged to the barn. Once inside, she collapsed on a bale of hay and fought to catch her breath. She turned fear-filled eyes on the barn door, and whispered, “Just this once, God, help me. Please.”
Help arrived minutes later in the form of her brother Pyne. He touched his lips to her forehead. “Jesus God, Nealy, you’re burning up. Lie down and rest, and I’ll do what needs doing. Pa will never know. He went into his office with a bottle, and you know what that means.”
Nealy curled up in a nest of loosened hay and put a horse blanket under her head. “I don’t understand you, Pyne. Why do you let Pa treat you like he does? Why don’t you stand up to him and show him what you’re made of?”
Pyne looked up from cleaning April Fantasy’s rear hoof. “You keep thinking I’m something I’m not. I don’t have your grit, Nealy. I never have, and I never will. And Pa knows it.”
Nealy sighed in resignation. It was sad but true. Pyne had no backbone whatsoever.
“He doesn’t pick on Rhy, just you and me. I hate him. I hate him so much . . .” She broke into a fit of coughing. She felt like she’d swallowed a pack of razor blades. “I never felt like this before, Pyne. I think I must be dying. I see two of you. Who’s going to take care of Emmie if I die?”
“Shhhh,” Pyne said as he picked up the currycomb. “I’m not going to let you die, Nealy. As soon as I finish up here, I’ll take you into the house and put you to bed. Tessie told me she’s going to fix you a couple of mustard plasters and that you’ll be right as rain in no time.”
Right as rain, Nealy thought as her eyes started to close. What’s right about rain? she wondered as she drifted off.
The barn door opened and banged against the inside wall. Nealy struggled to a sitting position and was relieved to see it was Rhy, not her father.
Pyne looked over the horse’s back. “Rhy!”
Rhy looked at Nealy, then at Pyne, his expression full of disgust. “Pa’s in rare form tonight,” he said, picking up a hoof pick and a currycomb as he walked past Nealy toward the second stall.
Nealy didn’t know what to think. Was Rhy going to help Pyne do her chores? Maybe he wasn’t such a bad brother after all. Or maybe he wanted something. With Rhy, you just never knew.
“Hey, Rhy, you ever been horsewhipped?” Pyne asked.
Nealy knew that it wasn’t so much a question as it was a prediction of what was going to happen if their father found out what they were doing.
“You know I haven’t. If you’re trying to scare me, don’t bother. Pa isn’t going to find out unless one of you tell him.” He bent to pick up the horse’s hoof. “I can tell you this, Pa’s worse now than he ever was, and it’s all her fault,” Rhy said, pointing the hoof pick at Nealy. “Her and that illegitimate half-wit of hers have been the talk of the town for the last two years. Christ Almighty, we can’t go anywhere anymore without folks whispering behind their hands.”
Nealy bristled. “Just because Emmie hasn’t talked yet doesn’t mean she’s a half-wit. Stop calling her that, Rhy. Please.”
“Wake up, Nealy. For Christ’s sake, Emmie’s two years old, and she hasn’t done anything but cry and grunt. Like it or not, sis, you spawned a half-wit, but worse than that you brought shame to this family and this farm. It’s pretty damn hard for us to hold up our heads. Guess you didn’t think about that when you opened up your legs.” He tossed the hoof pick into the bucket. “You’d be doing us all a favor if you’d just pack up and leave.”
“Rhy!” Pyne shouted. “You said you wouldn’t say . . .”
“I know what I said,” Rhy interrupted, his face transformed with rage. “But that was then, and this is now. I’m tired of living this way. Tired of the gossip, the whispers, the smirks. I’m tired of it all, ya hear? I’ve had enough.”
Nealy bit down on her lower lip. So now she knew why Rhy had come out to the barn—not to help, but to tell her to leave. And since Pyne always wanted everything Rhy wanted, that probably meant he wanted her to go, too. But where could she go? What would she do? Even if she was almost eighteen, how would she take care of herself? How would she take care of Emmie? She tried to think, but her head was too fuzzy. Tomorrow she would think about it. Tomorrow, when she was feeling better.
A long time later, Nealy felt herself picked up and carried. She heard the familiar squeak of the barn door, then rain beat down on her face. It was cold against her hot skin. She heard her brother whisper something close to her ear but couldn’t make out what he said.
A warm blast of air hit her when the kitchen door opened. She was on her feet a second later, the slicker sliding off her shoulders into a large wet puddle at her feet.
“Take her up to her bed,” Tessie ordered. “As soon as I’m finished with the dishes I’ll go up and tend to her.” She handed Emmie to Rhy. Her shoulders slumped as she faced the mountain of dishes that waited for her in the soapy water.
The moment they reached her room, Rhy dumped Emmie on the bed and left. Pyne set Nealy down on the edge of the bed, his face worried. His gaze raked the room as he looked for her flannel nightgown. He finally found it on the hook behind the closet door.
“Do you think you can get undressed by yourself or do you need me to help you?” His voice was not unkind; nor was it kind. It was cool and flat.
Nealy looked up at her brother. His demeanor had changed since Rhy had asked her to leave. “No, I don’t need your help. I can do it myself,” she said. When Pyne started for the door she added, “Thanks for doing my chores. I owe you one.”
Pyne glanced at her over his shoulder. “No you don’t. You would have done the same for me. But what Rhy said, Nealy . . . I hate to say it, but he’s right. You might as well get it through your head Pa is never going to forgive you unless . . .”
“Unless I give Emmie up and put her in an orphanage,” she finished for him. “I can’t do that, Pyne. She’s my baby, my child. Maybe she came into this world the wrong way, but it’s my fault, not hers. I’ve done everything else Pa’s asked. I quit school. I quit going to church though I haven’t quit praying. I always pray. When I’m not sick, I work as hard as you and Rhy. Tessie says I work harder than most men. I keep up my studies here at home. And I take care of Emmie. I don’t know what else I can do that I’m not already doing.”
“You can go away,” he said, then closed the door behind him.
Tears streamed down Nealy’s face. She’d deluded herself into thinking Pyne loved her in spite of everything. The truth was he was just like Rhy, who was just like Pa—cold and heartless.
They’d always been that way, she realized with startling clarity. Emmie’s birth had only magnified things.
The lack of love between her and her father and brothers was what had brought her to this point. Because she couldn’t get any love or attention at home, she’d gone looking for it elsewhere. It was so easy to find. Too easy. He’d said the words, words she’d needed to hear, words that had lulled her into letting him make love to her. He’d offered her everything her father and brothers hadn’t . . . love, comfort, joy, and promises for the future.
Lies. All lies, she realized now as she picked up Emmie and held her close to her breast.
Late the next afternoon, Nealy struggled to open her eyes and when she did she closed them instantly. Why were so many people in her room? She tried again and slowly opened one eye, thinking she must have imagined seeing the crowd of people. Maybe she was dreaming or delirious. But there they were—Pa, Rhy and Pyne. They were standing at the foot of the bed staring at her. The white-haired man with glasses was Dr. Cooper. What was a horse doctor doing in her room? And where was Emmie?
“Emmie? Emmie?” When there was no answer, she tried to crawl out of bed. It was Pyne who forced her back onto the pillows.
“Tessie has Emmie. She’s got a low-grade fever and a cough,” he whispered. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as the others left the room.
Nealy eyed him warily. After what he’d said last night, she didn’t trust him anymore. But what could she do? She was too weak to move. “Am I dying, Pyne?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Doc gave you a shot and said you’ll be fine in a little while. Listen, Nealy. You have to get better real fast. Pa’s planning on sending Emmie to the orphanage in the morning. Once he does that, I don’t know if you can get her back.”
Nealy pushed the covers away and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her face felt hot, her skin stretched to the breaking point. And yet her body was cold.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Pyne asked.
“Taking your advice. I’m going to leave.”
“But . . . You’re too sick, and Emmie’s coming down with the same thing.”
Nealy ignored him. Chills racked her body as she gathered her warmest clothes and took them into the closet. Minutes later she emerged completely dressed. She sat down on the edge of the bed and was pulling on her boots when the door opened and Emmie ran in. Tears streamed down Nealy’s face as she hugged her. “I’ll never let Pa take you away from me. Never.” The toddler burrowed her head against her mother’s chest. Nealy rocked her feverish daughter in her arms. She looked up when her brother came to stand in front of her.
“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 help—a doctor—a 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.
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 jus. . .
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
![Kentucky Rich](https://bingebooks.com/files/books/photo/5f06e85975bf4/thumb2_9781420123135.webp?ext=jpg)