Outfoxed by Rita Mae Brown Page A

amount of the stuff myself.” He poured more maple syrup on his waffles, which were so light they might have flown away.
    She leaned closer. “Maybe it’s a deep anger because he’ll never be the man his grandfather was. People say Nathaniel Buruss crushed people underfoot.”
    â€œIt’s hard to become rich in business without crushing others. I thought that was a good sermon. Thigpin is quite good. When Tom Farley retired I worried for Saint Luke’s but I think Thigpin is tough, good tough.”
    â€œMe, too. Back to Fontaine. I mean it. Don’t run him into another jump. He’s a pretty good rider. You were lucky this time but I’d stay behind him in the hunt field if I were you.”
    â€œI hate that you work for him.”
    â€œI’m learning a lot and much as you dislike him, he’s been very good to me. Only good to me and a gentleman . . . and I’d like to open my own landscaping business someday. I really love it.”
    â€œThe only reason he’s a gentleman to you is I’d kill him if he weren’t.”
    â€œCraw, in the beginning you didn’t care. You were happy to be rid of me and he truly helped me through that awful first year. It was awful. If I learned nothing else, I learned that divorce lawyers have everything to gain by fanning the flames. They don’t want to settle. They don’t want people to work it out. My lawyer was as reprehensible as your lawyer, except he preyed on my being a woman. He was ‘taking care’ of me and I fell for it.”
    â€œA plague on both their houses. I should have given you all the money I paid that bastard. Well, it’s over. We’re going to go on. I’m a different man, Martha. I truly am.”
    â€œParts of the old one were quite wonderful, you know.” She smiled flirtatiously and suddenly looked like the beautiful Kappa Kappa Gamma he’d met at Indiana University all those years ago.
    He smiled magnanimously. “I owe you a great deal. You believed in me when I was young, and I wouldn’t be foxhunting had it not been for you. You got me up on a horse and I will always be grateful for that.”
    â€œAt first I didn’t know if you’d stick it out. If you’d learn to ride. When you did, well, I think it made me love you more than I could ever imagine. You did it for me.”
    â€œYes.” He folded his hands together. “Now I can’t imagine not hunting. I’ve put a lot of myself into the club, you know. I hope it pays off.”
    Crawford couldn’t give to give. There had to be a payback.
    â€œSister visited Fontaine. . . .” Realizing she might be betraying a confidence, she quickly shut up.
    Crawford tensed. “There’s no reason for her to visit him unless it’s about the mastership.”
    Fumbling, Martha finally squealed, “Maybe not. He has to fix the coop he smashed.”
    â€œHe didn’t say?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHow long was she there?”
    â€œOh, twenty minutes.”
    He cracked his knuckles. “Damn! Fontaine is such a lightweight.”
    â€œWell, we were kind of talking about that. There’s this part of Fontaine that wants to prove he’s not. He’s been cooking up some business deal he won’t discuss. I only know it because I see the name Gordon Smith penciled in on his daybook occasionally.” Gordon Smith was a commercial contractor building large office buildings in northern Virginia, especially around Dulles airport. Wealthy, highly intelligent, and driven, he lived in Upperville. “I also saw Peter Wheeler’s name penciled in last week.”
    â€œFontaine doesn’t know the first thing about commercial real estate.” He thought a moment. “Why would Gordon Smith waste his time with Fontaine? Peter Wheeler, though, that is bad news. I’d better get over there to see him.”
    â€œDon’t underestimate