Page 43 of Brother In Arms

“Moved Starry to the monitoring barn this morning. Stables are all getting a thorough cleaning. Horses have all been fed ‘n watered. I’m off to check the mend on that fence in the north pasture and to fill those holes from the old fence posts.”

“Okay, grab a radio.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He tipped an imaginary hat and went back out the front door. I turned to Mrs. Cranston and smiled brightly, “My apologies for keeping you waiting. I’m not usually so late to rise.”

Mrs. Cranston was in her mid-sixties her blonde hair perfectly styled. She wore tasteful makeup and her green eyes were quick and shrewd as she considered me, tapping a perfectly polished, long nude nail against her perfectly painted rose petal lipstick. She was likewise dressed to kill in a pair of nude pumps that matched the nails, cream slacks, and a lighter cream silk blouse. She practically dripped with gold and pearls. From rings, sometimes stacked two to a finger, to her gold necklace set with a natural pearl. I knew the look, my mother tended to dress the same way when she went somewhere to remind people just who they were dealing with.

Marion Cranston waved one of her hands as if shooing away a fly and said, “It’s not like I called ahead. I wanted to talk to you, not your brother and not that pompous windbag Caleb.”

I blinked and said, “Me? What about?” I took a sip of lemonade to try and wet my suddenly dry mouth.

“You know those idiot men had the nerve to turn me down when I asked about boarding my baby, Holy Grail, here?”

I promptly choked on my lemonade, spewing some across the table, some of it most definitely coming out of my nose.

“My word! I should have waited until you were done drinking, I do apologize…” she pulled one of the napkins from the place settings that were always out on the table and helped me try to mop up, even pounded me on the back as I tried to get some air.

“Why would they say that!? Not only that, but what makes them think they are in any position to make business decisions about this place? This is my farm! I’m in charge of the day to day operations here.”

“I thought it was fishy when they said you were in the midst of closing, which is why I’m here to get it from the horse’s mouth!”

I stared at her, horrified.

“Wait, Philip I understand, but Caleb told you the farm was closing?” That son of a bitch.

“You need a new trustee, honey child.”

I blinked, “My father’s will specifically appointed him.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to keep him, I’d get myself a lawyer if I were you.”

I sat there shocked, dismayed, but not at all surprised. It was way past time to face the writing on the wall. Philip was actively trying to tank my dream to further his own greedy agenda. Caleb had been fair and impartial to an extent, but that was clearly right out the window and what was worse? They’d been intercepting clients and turning them away. I mean, how long had that been going on?

“So I take it you aren’t closing?”

“No, no we most certainly are not…” I said and Marion Cranston smiled the most devious smile I had ever seen in my life. Oh shit, she’s a steel magnolia if I ever saw one. An iron southern lady. I recognized the look, I’d seen it on my mother’s face a time or two.

“My mother put you up to this, didn’t she?” I asked, everything clicking into place.

Mrs. Cranston winked at me and patted me on the arm, asking in her best southern belle voice, “Why now, whatever do you mean?”

Right.

“You’re sure you want to board Holy Grail here at Blue Hills?” I squeaked. We were talking the frontrunner for the next Kentucky Derby here. As in, Holy Grail got his name for being the holy grail of race horses. His form, stride, power, all of it…

“Why yes, I do, but you seem to have had a bit of a shock now, why don’t you come to my home, say this Thursday and we can discuss it at length.” She passed me a business card with her address written on the back and I nodded numbly.

“I can do that.”

“Excellent! I’m looking forward to it.”

She got up, pulling her purse off the back of my dining room chair, a Coach bag in creams and golds that perfectly matched her outfit. She patted me on the arm again before I could get up and stood, “I’ll just see myself out,” she said and went to the front door. She opened up the screen and called over her shoulder, “And do bring that delicious young man of yours. Mm, he’s positively scrumptious.”

For the second time that morning I choked on my lemonade, but honestly didn’t have a clue on how to handle this. I needed to call my mom…