by Lozi Hart
Graham McCullough never forgot his first Kentucky Derby or the dark-haired beauty who had stolen his heart that weekend twenty-five years ago. He’d gone home to Scotland after the Derby with the intention of returning to Louisville to ask the woman to be his wife. But a family crises sent him to the wilds of the Amazon Rain Forest for the next six months and when he finally did make it back, she had vanished without a trace.
Mary Claire Beaumont lived each day with a reminder of the weekend she’d spent with Graham McCullough, oh so long ago, before he’d disappeared from the face of the earth. She’d gone home to her mother and father prepared to face life as a single parent with an illegitimate child -- until her mother forced her marriage to old boyfriend, John Beaumont. Now twenty-five years later, her daughter grown, a widowed Mary Claire is ready to live her own life, until fate throws Graham McCullough straight into her path again.
Chapter One
Louisville, Kentucky
The First Saturday in May
Late 1970s
“Damn it! I still can’t see the track.” Mary Claire Rutherford stomped her bare foot on the folded beach towel then held her breath as her wobbly perch threatened to collapse.
The last strains of My Old Kentucky Home faded from the speakers that pointed away from the infield. Mary Claire looked around trying to decide what else she could use to add height to the viewing stand she’d constructed—an old metal cooler stacked on top of multiple six-packs. She needed to hurry. The post parade was nearly over.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually here to see the race?”
The timbre of the voice sent a sensual caress rippling down Mary Claire’s spine. She turned to see who had spoken.
Ah. The guy with the muscles and no shirt. She'd seen him. The tall one with the sun streaked brown hair and the Scottish sounding name. He’d caught her attention when he’d shucked his clothes to reveal those ugly baggy swimming trunks just before he dived headlong onto the Slip-n-Slide a group of frat boys had set up.
“Yeah.” She jumped off the cooler. “I watch it every year, but this is my first time in the infield. I didn’t realize I wouldn’t be able to see from here.”
“Tell you what.” He stooped down. “Climb on my shoulders. That should give you a proper view.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Really, come on. They’re almost to the gate.”
She glanced toward the track and then down at him. She did want to see this race. Had to see this race! “Oh, what the hell.” She hitched her very short-shorts up to the crease of her legs and placed one bare limb across his shoulder.
He held his hands up. She grasped hold to steady herself as she draped the other leg around his neck. He raised straight up as if she weighed nothing at all.
“How’s that? Can you see now?”
She wiggled, settling herself into the curve of his neck and shoulders. “Yes.” She locked her legs under his arms and around his back.
He placed his hands on top of her thighs to hold her secure.
Mary Claire put a hand above her eyes to shade them from the sun. The starter’s bell sounded and the gate burst open spewing a frenzy of horse flesh onto the track.
Bluegrass Bountiful broke from the number nine position and stayed just behind the leaders until they reached the quarter pole. Mary Claire held her breath, her heart pounding as she watched the horse make his move.
“Come on Bountiful. You can do it!” She watched the blur of the Rutherford Red Silks zoom into the lead like the jockey had ignited rocket boosters behind the big three-year-old.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Mary Claire bounced up and down on her shoulder seat. She threw her arms into the air still cheering as the chestnut stallion crossed the finish line three lengths ahead of his nearest competitor. She laughed, elated with the horse’s success. Bountiful had gone off at fourteen-to-one which meant that as soon as she cashed in her ticket, she’d be twenty-eight hundred dollars richer. That would give her at least another eight months of living expenses. Besides, even if she wasn’t speaking to her parents, she still wanted their Derby entry to win.
She had always felt a special connection to this horse. She’d been in the barn the night Bountiful Bonny had foaled the much anticipated colt by Bluegrass King. Over the next two years, Mary Claire had helped exercise and groom him and even slept in his stall on occasion. Her only regret was that she wouldn’t be in the winner’s circle today to congratulate Bluegrass Bountiful and slip him a sugar cube.
0 comments:
Post a Comment