narrowed her eyes. “You may have to. If that horse doesn’t have it in
him to win, you would just be throwing good money at him. I will have to talk to him
and see what is up.”
Shaneika shot a curious look at Mike.
“Of course, you can beat him with a crop until he does what you want,” said Velvet.
The jockey brought Comanche to where we were gathered. Comanche reached over to nuzzle
Shaneika for peppermints, which she always kept in her pocket.
“I’m not going to beat an animal to make him perform. You just better come up with
something,” demanded Shaneika.
The jockey and Mike exchanged comments until the jockey started the horse towards
the stable.
“I’ve got tomatoes to can so I’ll be off,” announced Miss Velvet. “I’ll be back tomorrow
morning. No training, you hear.”
“Yes ma’am,” replied Mike.
Shaneika started to object but thought better of it. She didn’t seem to want to take
Miss Velvet on. She waited until the tiny woman had hopped into her huge pickup truck
and blazed down the gravel road.
“I swear that old bat is crazy,” she said turning on Mike. “She is gonna ‘talk’ to
Comanche?”
“Okay. Do things your way but that old woman understands things that ordinary people
just don’t. I’ve seen her work wonders with horses.”
“Any horses that won a race?” Shaneika stumped off muttering, “Crazy old white woman.
Crazy Irishman.”
I started to laugh until I saw Mike’s fallen face. Uh oh. Mike had the look of a puppy
that had been denied a juicy bone. I bade my goodbye to Mike, who barely took notice
of me as he watched Shaneika storm away. I hurried away in my golf cart, not wanting
to witness Mike’s humiliation. I sure hoped Velvet Maddox made good with the horse
– or Mike would never make good with Shaneika.
10
Asa sat in the parked SUV and checked her makeup. It was perfect. Instead of the usual
kohl rimming her eyes, there was minimal of mascara and just a hint of lipstick. Her
face was scrubbed free of makeup into a fresh hue, allowing the freckles on her nose
to show. A brown curly wig, giving her a soft feminine look, concealed her dark long
hair.
Instead of the usual black that she wore, Asa had chosen carefully. She was wearing
beige slacks, a white silk blouse and a cardigan sweater with horses on it. Her jewelry
was demure – gold post earrings, an emerald-cut engagement ring and a gold bracelet.
Her bag and shoes were expensive but not over the top. She looked like the perfect
up and coming Junior League wife.
Her companion commented, “You look just like the girl next door.”
Asa blew him a kiss.
They both got out of the SUV and, acting like a loving couple, entered a popular Lexington
restaurant in the Lansdowne Center.
The hostess, having been generously tipped previously, placed the couple in the middle
of the room, where everyone could see them.
Even Ellen Boudreaux, who was having her usual Thursday lunch with her girlfriends.
Ellen caught sight of her as soon as Asa entered the room. “I can’t believe she would
show her face in this town after what she did to me,” growled Ellen, staring in partial
disbelief.
“Who?” asked a girlfriend.
“Asa Reynolds!”
The entire table rubbernecked to where Ellen was pointing.
“That doesn’t look like Asa Reynolds. You must be mistaken,” declared another girlfriend.
“I’m telling you that is Asa Reynolds over there,” spit Ellen, her face contorting
into a Feliniesque mask. “I should know what my stepdaughter looks like.”
Several of the women glanced at each other, knowing that Ellen never actually married
Brannon Reynolds.
One of her girlfriends placed a hand on Ellen’s arm. “Now, you have no proof that
she broke into your house,” she warned. “Just ignore her. We’ll finish our lunch and
then leave.”
Worried, another woman commented, “Don’t look, Ellen. People are starting to
him to win, you would just be throwing good money at him. I will have to talk to him
and see what is up.”
Shaneika shot a curious look at Mike.
“Of course, you can beat him with a crop until he does what you want,” said Velvet.
The jockey brought Comanche to where we were gathered. Comanche reached over to nuzzle
Shaneika for peppermints, which she always kept in her pocket.
“I’m not going to beat an animal to make him perform. You just better come up with
something,” demanded Shaneika.
The jockey and Mike exchanged comments until the jockey started the horse towards
the stable.
“I’ve got tomatoes to can so I’ll be off,” announced Miss Velvet. “I’ll be back tomorrow
morning. No training, you hear.”
“Yes ma’am,” replied Mike.
Shaneika started to object but thought better of it. She didn’t seem to want to take
Miss Velvet on. She waited until the tiny woman had hopped into her huge pickup truck
and blazed down the gravel road.
“I swear that old bat is crazy,” she said turning on Mike. “She is gonna ‘talk’ to
Comanche?”
“Okay. Do things your way but that old woman understands things that ordinary people
just don’t. I’ve seen her work wonders with horses.”
“Any horses that won a race?” Shaneika stumped off muttering, “Crazy old white woman.
Crazy Irishman.”
I started to laugh until I saw Mike’s fallen face. Uh oh. Mike had the look of a puppy
that had been denied a juicy bone. I bade my goodbye to Mike, who barely took notice
of me as he watched Shaneika storm away. I hurried away in my golf cart, not wanting
to witness Mike’s humiliation. I sure hoped Velvet Maddox made good with the horse
– or Mike would never make good with Shaneika.
10
Asa sat in the parked SUV and checked her makeup. It was perfect. Instead of the usual
kohl rimming her eyes, there was minimal of mascara and just a hint of lipstick. Her
face was scrubbed free of makeup into a fresh hue, allowing the freckles on her nose
to show. A brown curly wig, giving her a soft feminine look, concealed her dark long
hair.
Instead of the usual black that she wore, Asa had chosen carefully. She was wearing
beige slacks, a white silk blouse and a cardigan sweater with horses on it. Her jewelry
was demure – gold post earrings, an emerald-cut engagement ring and a gold bracelet.
Her bag and shoes were expensive but not over the top. She looked like the perfect
up and coming Junior League wife.
Her companion commented, “You look just like the girl next door.”
Asa blew him a kiss.
They both got out of the SUV and, acting like a loving couple, entered a popular Lexington
restaurant in the Lansdowne Center.
The hostess, having been generously tipped previously, placed the couple in the middle
of the room, where everyone could see them.
Even Ellen Boudreaux, who was having her usual Thursday lunch with her girlfriends.
Ellen caught sight of her as soon as Asa entered the room. “I can’t believe she would
show her face in this town after what she did to me,” growled Ellen, staring in partial
disbelief.
“Who?” asked a girlfriend.
“Asa Reynolds!”
The entire table rubbernecked to where Ellen was pointing.
“That doesn’t look like Asa Reynolds. You must be mistaken,” declared another girlfriend.
“I’m telling you that is Asa Reynolds over there,” spit Ellen, her face contorting
into a Feliniesque mask. “I should know what my stepdaughter looks like.”
Several of the women glanced at each other, knowing that Ellen never actually married
Brannon Reynolds.
One of her girlfriends placed a hand on Ellen’s arm. “Now, you have no proof that
she broke into your house,” she warned. “Just ignore her. We’ll finish our lunch and
then leave.”
Worried, another woman commented, “Don’t look, Ellen. People are starting to
Similar Books
