Kentucky Sunrise

Book 3: Kentucky

by Fern Michaels

Genres: Romance

Synopsis

When it comes to men, Nealy is very content with her new husband, lawyer Hatch Littletree. When it comes to horses, she is never satisfied. Nobody can measure up to her standards as a trainer, not even her daughter, Emmie, who now runs the family's famous stables, Blue Diamond Farms. But returning to Blue Diamond Farms for a family reunion sends Nealy reeling. Emmie has let the farm slide, and she has picked a small, gutsy colt to send to the Derby-a nice horse but clearly the wrong one. Suddenly, Nealy finds herself back in the game, ready to prove she's not too old to back a winner-even if it means damaging her relationship with the daughter she doesn't know is battling both a crippling illness and fears of losing custody of her own child...

Release date: April 7, 2011

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

Fanny Thornton Reed watched the young dawn creep over her beloved Sunrise Mountain. A sadness, unlike anything she’d ever experienced, washed over her. One small part of her wished she hadn’t turned the mountain over to her son Sage. Yet it would have been selfish of her to keep it with just herself and Marcus to enjoy. The mountain was intended for a family, for children to run and play, to hope and dream.

She’d raised her four children there, and it was always the place where she’d come to lick her wounds, to cry in private and bury those close to her.

She looked across the road to the little valley where Chue’s family lived. Chue was the young Chinese immigrant Sallie Coleman had befriended and brought to the mountain eons ago. She’d given him a large plot of land and built him a house so he could get married and raise a family. His loyalty and love had served Sallie and Fanny’s own family over the years. Chue and his wife were gone now, buried in the family cemetery, but their children remained to care for the mountain and for the new generation of Thorntons.

Twelve children on the mountain. She smiled. Sage’s three children and her daughter Sunny’s two children plus Chue’s seven grandchildren romped the mountain from morning till night.

Fanny reflected on her life on the mountain, where she’d been happy as well as miserable at times. Those other times, the times when she’d been less than happy—they weren’t worth thinking about. She was in the winter of her life now, her hair as white as the snow on the tips of the trees in the winter. She was also older, and Marcus was even older. She closed her eyes, wondering what it would be like when it was her time to join those who had gone before her. Tears blurred her eyes. Then she smiled again as she thought about her first husband, Ash, and how much she’d loved him. It was true, what they said, about only having one true love. Yes, she loved her husband Marcus, but it was a different kind of love. Ash was the bells and whistles and the kids’ father. Marcus was the steady rock she clung to.

“Fanny, Fanny, you’re doing it again. You’re stewing and fretting instead of taking action.”

“Ash! Oh, Ash, it’s good to talk to you again. It’s been years and years. I don’t even want to think about how many. Yes, I was just standing here thinking about how old I am. If I close my eyes, I can see us here on the mountain with the kids running around. I’ve been all over the world, Ash, and this is still the prettiest spot on earth.”

“Why so sad, Fanny?”

“It’s Jake, Ash. If you’re so all-knowing, you must realize the young man is suffering. He can’t seem to find his direction. I know how much you loved him, and he returned that love. I don’t think he ever forgave you for dying and leaving him behind. All he ever talked about was being a navy pilot like you. Those gold wings you gave him are his most treasured possession. I think he still sleeps with them pinned to his pajamas. You know he will never be a pilot. It’s that damn disease, where he didn’t grow the way he should have. We took him everywhere, to every clinic, to every specialist, and there was nothing they could do for him. Right now, he’s looking at his eighteenth birthday and doesn’t know what to do. He absolutely refuses to go to college. Sunny said he has to accept his condition and work it out, the way she did when she found out she had multiple sclerosis. I think she’s right, but it hurts me to watch him.”

“I know, Fanny, but there are other ways to fly. I don’t mean literally. I’m talking about the same dedication, the same exhilaration. Think about it.”

“Ash, I hate it when you talk in riddles. If you have an idea, tell me. I’ll do anything for the boy. Anything. Help me out here, okay?”

“That’s your problem, Fanny. You always wanted me to do your thinking for you. Use your head. Go inside and turn the VCR on.”

“Why would I want to do that? It’s only six o’clock in the morning. What kind of tape should I watch?” Fanny asked curiously.

“The one that’s in the machine. Come on, old girl, you’ve been thinking about it but were afraid to say the words out loud. You were always so damn cautious.”

“And you were always going off on one tangent or another. I was the one who had to remain grounded for all our sakes.”

“Don’t be afraid to take chances, Fanny. Get Jake off the mountain before it’s too late. If you don’t, he’s going to turn into another Simon. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Ashhhh.”

Fanny whirled around when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, Jake, what are you doing up so early? Couldn’t you sleep?” She reached up to tousle his blond curls, the same kind of hair as his grandfather had had.

“I like to watch the sun come up. It’s a new day, and I always hope that maybe some miracle will happen.”

“Jake, I’ve lived a long time, and over the years I found that each of us has to make our own miracles along the way. I want you to come with me into the family room and watch a tape. Let’s get some fresh coffee first, though.”

“What’s on the tape, Grandma?”

Yes, what was on the tape? Ash had sounded as if he knew what he was talking about. “You’ll see,” she said.

Jake sat down next to her on the sofa, weighing only 105 pounds, his legs barely reaching the floor. Even though he was approaching his eighteenth birthday, he looked like a child of twelve. She was thankful the disease hadn’t eaten into his mind. He was brilliant, in the top one percentile of his class, and had a photographic memory just like his grandfather Ash, who had always been his idol.

“You have to turn it on, Grandma,” Jake said.

“Yes, yes, I do have to turn it on. Marcus always handles the remote. Get ready now.” This better be good, Ash.

Fanny sat back, wondering what it was she was going to see. “Oh, look, Jake, it’s Nealy Clay! I think this is her first Kentucky Derby race. She won two Triple Crowns, and she’s your aunt. She was in her fifties when she ran her last race. We didn’t know about Nealy for a long time.” She looked sideways at Jake. “She’s just your size, and she’s a jockey. She was very young, not as young as you are, but still young, when she ran her first race. She doesn’t look big enough to handle a Thoroughbred, does she?”

“Size has nothing to do with a person’s ability to control a horse,” Jake said as if he knew what he was talking about. The camera switched to the jockey room and panned the jockeys as they finished dressing. “Look how muscular those guys are,” he said, an enthusiasm in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“That was the preliminaries. Now, they’re going to show the race. Before it starts, I want you to know one thing. Ash, your grandfather, always said there are other ways to fly than in an airplane. Keep that in mind as you watch the race.”

Fanny and Jake watched as the crowd rose to the playing of “My Old Kentucky Home,” then fell silent as the gates clanged open.

“And they’re off in the Kentucky Derby!” the announcer blared.

“Flyby got away cleanly and moved to the left right at the start. Serendipity takes the early lead and Crusader is on the inside as he challenges early. Celebration is third on the inside with Nightstar fourth. Finders Keepers is fifth, Dark Sire is in the sixth position. Here comes Phil’s Choice in seventh. On the outside is Texas Rich at eighth. Leisure Boy is between horses as they round the clubhouse turn and MacInerny takes Crusader to the front three-quarters of a length. Serendipity on the outside is second. Saturday’s Warrior in blue and yellow moves to the outside. Finders Keepers is fifth on the outside with Phil’s Choice tucked in at the rail and sixth at this point. Dark Sire is seventh, Celebration is eighth, Nightstar is ninth. After that, Saturday’s Warrior racing in the tenth position.”

Fanny beamed when her grandson leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Look, Grandma, she’s trying to move to the inside. Look how low she’s riding. She looks like she’s on the horse’s head. She’s about eight lengths behind. Wow! Look at that horse! I can’t believe we’re related to her.” Fanny thought her heart would burst at the boy’s excitement.

The announcer’s voice rose an octave. “Here comes Crusader, his colors showing the way and in the lead by a head. On the outside, Serendipity is coming off the middle and here comes Phil’s Choice, and he’s sailing. Celebration swings to the middle of the racetrack. Flyby is fifth and running at the rail. Celebration takes command by a neck. Down the stretch they come. Finders Keepers is on the inside. Here comes Dancer’s Flyby, and that horse is flying!”

“She’s gonna do it, Grandma. Look at her go! The announcer is right, that horse is flying. Look at his legs. They’re like wings!”

Jake was on his feet, his closed fists shooting in the air when the announcer blasted, “What a punch that horse has! And the winner of the Kentucky Derby is Dancer’s Flyby! We’re talking absolute power here, ladies and gentlemen. Absolute! Cornelia Diamond, owner, trainer, and jockey, takes home the roses to Blue Diamond Farms!”

Fanny leaned back into the softness of the sofa. “Thanks, Ash,” she whispered.

“Anytime, Fanny my love. Anytime at all.”

“Did you say something, Grandma?” Jake asked, excitement ringing in his voice.

“I said, great race. Flyby looked like he was really flying, didn’t he?”

“Grandma, that horse was flying. He won by four lengths. Four lengths! He had wings on his feet. I wonder what it felt like—riding that fast.”

Fanny smiled. “I bet it was a lot like flying a fighter plane,” she said nonchalantly. She shook her head when Sage appeared in the doorway, a sign that he should leave. He obliged.

“But she’s a girl!” Jake said, shaking his head in disbelief. He ran to the VCR and rewound the tape to the middle of the race and studied it.

“Now that’s a brilliant deduction if I ever heard one,” Fanny said.

“Is that what you meant about another way to fly?” Jake asked, his eyes glued to the wide screen in front of him.

“I just repeated the words. Your grandfather is the one who came up with the saying. You know what I think, honey? I think it’s not the actual act of flying that you crave, it’s the feeling, the high that comes with doing something you love. For me it was building this mountain. For your aunt Nealy, it’s breeding, training, and racing her horses. I think you could be a jockey, Jake. It’s not easy, the training is hard and rigorous. I can almost say with certainty that Nealy would take you on at the farm. If Nealy isn’t at the farm, Emmie, then. Who knows, they might have a wonder horse you could ride. Once you learn, that is.”

“Grandma, I’ve never been on a horse in my life. Where did you come up with this idea?”

“You know, Jake, I had a dream, and your grandfather told me about it. I don’t dream of him as often as I used to, but last night I did,” Fanny fibbed. “Over the years he’s come to me in many dreams, usually in a time of crisis. He always seemed to have the right answer.”

“And Pop-Pop,” Jake said, referring to the name he’d given his grandfather in his early childhood years, “said I should be a jockey?”

“It was a dream, honey. I’m not saying you should or should not be a jockey. It is something to think about. I always pay attention to my dreams because Ash was never wrong. I never figured out how that could be,” Fanny said thoughtfully. “I’m going to make breakfast this morning so your aunt Iris can sleep in. What would you like?”

“Anything you make will be fine. I think I’ll watch that race again if you don’t mind.”

“Why don’t you watch the others, too? Nealy ran seven Triple Crown races. We’re all going to Kentucky the first of May so you can see those magnificent horses in the flesh. And we’re all going to take in the Kentucky Derby. I remember Sage saying he taped all six races. I’ve seen them, and they’re very exciting. I imagine they’re on the shelf over there with the other tapes. I’ll call you when breakfast is ready.”

“Okay, Grandma.”

In the kitchen, Sage poured coffee, his eyes full of questions.

“I think I might have found the answer to Jake’s dilemma. I had this dream last night about your father, and he’s the one who came up with the idea. In the dream,” she said hastily. “Jake would make a perfect jockey. What do you think?”

“Think! I think that’s a great idea. The question is, what does Jake think? I don’t think he’s ever been on a horse. We could never get him on a pony, much less a horse.”

“He can learn. I think Nealy will take him on. If she’s off traveling, Emmie will do the honors. Do you really think it’s a good idea, Sage?”

“Mom, it’s the best. I think it’s Jake’s answer. Do you think he’ll go for it?”

“He looked interested. I played the first race for him. He’s going to watch the other six races now. Let’s not overplay it. Let him come to his own decision. In fact, I don’t think we should say another word. When we get to Kentucky, he can see for himself. What do you think?”

“As usual, Mom, you’re right again. I can’t tell you how worried I’ve been about that kid. Sunny is beside herself. I’ll call and tell her when I get to the casino. Iris said blueberry waffles would be nice.” He winked at his mother.

“She’s right, blueberry waffles would be nice. I’ll see you this evening, Sage.”

Sage hugged his mother and was out the door a second later.

Nealy Clay Littletree reached for the phone and picked it up on the first ring. “Fanny! How nice to hear from you. Yes, it’s been way too long. Hatch and I just got back from some of our travels. Actually, I was just sitting here thinking about the family and missing everyone. How are you, Fanny?”

“Getting older by the day, Nealy. I have a very large favor to ask of you. If you can’t see your way clear to helping me, that’s okay, too. I’ve never been one too proud to ask for help.”

“Ask away, Fanny. If it’s in my power to help you, I will. Your sons came to my rescue, and I didn’t even have to ask. Family is such a wonderful thing. Now, tell me what I can do for you.”

Nealy looked up and smiled at her husband. Hatch winked at her as he tossed the “Lifetime” section of the morning paper. She caught it deftly as she mouthed the words, “It’s Fanny Thornton.”

“Do you remember me telling you about my grandson Jake?” Fanny asked.

“Yes, I remember. Is he in some kind of trouble?”

“No. However, he refuses to go to college. He won’t leave the mountain. I’m sure a lot of it has to do with his size and weight. Even though he’s going to turn eighteen in a few weeks, he looks like he’s only twelve years old. I understand his mind-set where that is concerned. I was wondering if you or Emmie would take him under your wing and train him to be a jockey. It’s a large commitment on your part, but I don’t know what else to do. I had this dream . . . No, no, I can’t lie to you, Nealy. It wasn’t a dream. Sometimes I talk to Ash. He answers me. No, I’m not crazy. I’m just careful who I tell things like this to. Ruby talks to him, too.”

“Yes, I do know, and I really do understand. There for a while I was talking to Hunt. What did he tell you?”

“He’s the one who suggested all of this. Can you see yourself helping us, Nealy?”

“Of course. I’ll do anything I can. I’m sure Hatch won’t mind. You are coming to the reunion, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I thought it would be a good time for Jake to get his feet wet so to speak. He’s a wonderful boy, Nealy, and he got a bad deal like his mother did. Something like this just might be what he needs, to prove to himself he can and will amount to something. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Would you do it for me, Fanny?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Then you have your answer. I’ll talk to Hatch and get a plan under way. It was nice talking to you, Fanny. Say hello to everyone for me.”

Nealy clicked off the portable phone and looked up at Hatch. “How do you feel about us staying on at Blue Diamond Farms after the reunion? I don’t know how long, Hatch. It could be two years, a little less, a little more. We could come back here to Santa Fe on long weekends. Fanny Thornton needs my help.”

“Then let’s do it,” Hatch said.

Nealy looked up and stared off into space. God had certainly smiled on her when He brought Hatch Littletree into her life. “Don’t you want to know why we’re going back?”

Hatch looked over the top of his spectacles. “You said Fanny needs your help.”

“Well, yes, she does but it’s actually her grandson who needs the help. She wants me to train him to be a jockey. He has a severe medical problem. He never grew normally. He’s healthy as all get-out and graduated at the top of his class, but he refuses to go to college. I’m sure image and peer pressure played a big part in his decision. I think he might be able to do it. Train to be a jockey, I mean.

“It’s really very sad because the boy wanted to be a naval aviator like his grandfather, but with his condition it isn’t possible. He’s just the right age, and he’s the perfect weight, too. I’d like to work with him. That give-back thing we always talk about when God is good to you. Are you sure you’re okay with going back for that long a time?”

“I’m okay with it, Nealy. Metaxas Parish ran his business out of your farm for three whole years while you and Shufly trained. I can do the same thing. Semiretirement allows for a lot of things. Don’t look so worried, honey. I think it’s a great idea. Maybe he’ll let me act like a dad. I’m all for it.”

Nealy grinned. “Good, because I told her I would do it.”

Hatch laughed, the chair shaking under his weight. “I know. I was listening.”

Emmie Coleman leaned back against the board fencing, hooking the heel of her boot onto one of the rails. Hands jammed into the pockets of her jeans, she surveyed Blue Diamond Farms. It had to be the prettiest place on earth. Her home, her sanctuary. She was never, ever going to leave again. She dug the heel of her left boot into the rich soil and wished she could take root. She sighed with happiness.

Thick gray clouds scudded overhead, a sign that it would rain in the next hour or so. If it did, the camera crew would have to wind up for the day. Mitch Cunningham had been true to his word, the crew hadn’t interfered, hadn’t gotten in the way, but they were always there, always within eyesight. She was so used to Mitch and the crew that when they weren’t around she missed them.

The seven-month time frame to complete the movie had gone the way of all deadlines, thanks to the fire and her mother’s trip to Thailand for reconstructive surgery to repair her burned face. Now, though, the film was almost near the wrap stage. The thought left her with a feeling of sadness. She’d become very fond of Mitch Cunningham. Perhaps too fond. In the morning she couldn’t wait to run to the barn, hoping to see him before she started her day. It was foolish because he never showed up before nine in the morning, and by that time she usually had five hours of work under her belt.

More than ever, she realized that she was just like her mother. She wasn’t worldly, didn’t know how to play the games men and women played with each other. Her social skills were as pitiful as those of her mother. She could hardly wait to see the film on the wide screen, to see how the young actress played her part. The woman and Mitch had both picked her brain clean. How her life would translate on the screen was still a mystery. She’d heard Mitch call it a modern-day Gone With the Wind. God knows he had done as much research on Thoroughbreds and racing as Margaret Mitchell had done on the South and the Civil War. The cast was practically as large, with actors and actresses portraying almost every member of her mother’s family, including the Texas Colemans and the Thorntons of Las Vegas. He had even hired actors and actresses to portray some of the office staff and farmhands. Only the horses had played themselves.

He was heading her way now, his long-legged stride unmistakable. The nerves in her stomach did a crazy little dance as she struggled to appear nonchalant. She could see him studying her for a moment. What was he seeing? Obviously something that didn’t appeal to him. It bothered her. She tipped her Stetson lower to shield her eyes. He in turn flipped his baseball cap around so that the brim was in the back. All the better to see her with.

“Nice day,” he said.

“Summer days are always nice,” Emmie said coolly.

“This certainly is a beautiful place. I hope someday I can have something half as grand. I’d like a little ranch out West somewhere. That’s so far into the future it doesn’t bear thinking about. It’s easy to understand why you love it so much.”

Emmie nodded but said nothing.

“I need to thank you again for being so gracious and for allowing us to film here. I hope you’ll come to the premiere as my guest. Your mother, too. Actually, the whole family. I know it’s going to be a huge success. I’m hoping it’s Academy Award material. My gut tells me those racing scenes will really put it over the top.”

Emmie nodded again. “What’s your next project?”

Mitch shrugged. “Don’t know. I still have a lot to do on this one. We’re going to film your family reunion. That’s not to say it will go into the movie, but I would like the footage just in case. The final editing is going to be a nightmare. A definite challenge, but still a nightmare. I’m going to miss this place.”

What about me? Are you going to miss me? “You’ll forget us soon enough,” Emmie said.

“You’re like your mother, you know that, Emmie? What is it about me that you don’t like? You’re always polite, but you’re always so damn busy. Do you ever stop to take a deep breath, to smell the roses, to dream? I finally figured out your mother halfway through the film. Do you feel you have to be like her? I guess my next question is, if the answer is yes, then why? And I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t allow mention of your daughter or let her be in the film. If this is going to be the epic I think it will be, she might be a little offended when she gets older and sees that she wasn’t even mentioned. I don’t think it’s fair to her. Your mother made it abundantly clear that the deal was off if we so much as mentioned Gabby. Now that we’re almost finished, do you want to tell me why?”

“I suppose I am like Mom in some ways. In other ways, I’m not like her at all. It’s not easy running a farm this size. From the time I learned to walk, I knew the horses always had to come first. Hard work never hurt anyone. Is that what you have trouble with? My daughter is not part of this conversation, so let’s just leave it at that.”

Mitch took off his baseball cap and fiddled with it before he plopped it back on his head. “Okay, we’ll leave it at that. I don’t know if this is the time to tell you or not, but I wanted to ask you out to dinner or just to a movie so many times I lost count. You fix those blue eyes on me and I stop thinking about asking you because those blue eyes tell me ‘don’t cross that line.’ So, I didn’t. Before I pack up to leave, I’d like to know if I had asked, would you have accepted?”

Emmie’s brain whirled and twirled. “Yes. I wondered why you never asked. I almost asked you once, but instead I took Gabby to town and went to lunch and a matinee.”

Mitch jammed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I thought you didn’t like me, that you were just being polite because of your mother. I guess I thought you were just tolerating us, me in particular. So, do you want to go to dinner tonight?”

Emmie smiled. “I’d love to go to dinner with you, Mitch.”

He seemed stunned at her response. “You know what, that’s great. That’s really great. That’s just great. I said that, didn’t I? Is seven too early or too late?”

“Seven is just fine. I’ll see you at seven. I have to get back to the barn.”

The camera he was never without came off his shoulder and into his hands. “Say cheese,” he said, snapping her picture. He already had hundreds of pictures of Emmie, but he could always use one more. She mugged for him before sprinting off to the barn.

He adjusted the focus and zoomed in on her face. She was a pretty girl, but she didn’t have the sparkle her mother had. Nealy Clay Littletree was unlike any woman he’d ever known, and after all this time of popping in and out of her life, he figured he knew her just about as well as anyone could. From the beginning he had pegged her as being a hard nut to crack. It wasn’t that she was uncooperative; she was by nature a very private person.

He had taken every care to find an actress who could portray Nealy properly. Actually, he had two actresses. First, a teenager to portray Nealy as the seventeen-year-old unwed mother who ran away from her Virginia home and her abusive father and literally stumbled onto Blue Diamond Farms and into a fortune. Second, a thirty-plus actress to portray Nealy into her fifties with the help of a makeup artist. Both of them had had to be exceptional horsewomen, which had made finding them more difficult, but ultimately worth the effort.

For the racing scenes, he had used actual footage of Nealy winning the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, and the Belmont Stakes—footage he hoped would make him a legend in his own time. A filmmaker extraordinaire!

Emmie spent forty minutes checking on things before she was satisfied she could go up to the house and take a bubble bath. She was aching from head to toe. It seemed of late that either one or the other of her joints acted up, causing her to limp, gasp with sudden pain, or just plain old slow down. Her fingers were puffy, too. One of these days she was going to make an appointment to have a physical, something she’d been putting off way too long. She could take a day or so off now that she had a well-oiled machine going full tilt, sterling workers, and a farm manager named Cordell Lancer, who ran the farm with an iron fist. Because of Cordell, and the new workers she’d hired, she was able to spend more time with Gabby, be involved in community affairs, and have some semblance of a life outside of the horses. She didn’t do half the things her mother had done, and yet the farm ran smoothly.

She hungered for a man to care about and to love. A man who would be good to Gabby. A man who would want to make his home here on the farm. She didn’t think Mitch Cunningham would ever give up the bright lights of Hollywood or the fast-paced life he led, but maybe Mitch would be a stand-in until the real love of her life made an appearance.

She thought about her husband, the man she’d divorced before Gabby was born. Once she’d thought she loved him, and she supposed she had, in a limited kind of way. Buddy was deaf and used sign language the way she had until her speech came back to her. Resentful of his wife’s ability to speak, Buddy moved out of her life and went back to Ohio, where he’d been born. She’d never told him about Gabby. Her reasoning was, if Buddy didn’t love or want her any longer, he certainly wouldn’t want a baby.

Sometimes she had nightmares about Buddy coming back into her life and demanding she turn Gabby over to him. Lately, for some reason, she was having the dreams more and more frequently, a sure sign that she was worried about the reality of it happening at some not-too-distant time. She shivered at the thought.

Emmie gave her head a mental shake to drive away the thought of Buddy Owens. A trip over to the stallion barn to see the two newest colts was in order. She sucked in her breath when she imagined her mother’s reaction when she arrived the foll. . .