Nicolette raised her hands and stepped forward. “I apologize,” she said. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
Adley’s brows furrowed. Nicolette thought he might be afraid of her, though he was the one holding the gun. Was it because of what she had done? Perhaps could do? She felt so far away from the girl she had once been.
“I apologize for everything,” she said again. “I should never have come here.”
“Get off my property,” he said, lowering the gun slightly.
Nicolette nodded and picked up the plank.
“So long as you stay clear out of my way,” he said, “I won’t mess with you.” Now a smug twinkle came through in his eyes. “Or your girlfriend.”
As Nicolette made her way past him, he snickered. “Remember Monmouth?” It was barely a whisper, but she caught it.
When she grasped his meaning a wave of anger washed over her. He grinned and took a step back, seemingly scorched by the look in her eyes.
“You don’t want to go there, Adley,” Nicolette said, her voice like charred meat searing and sizzling on a hot fire.
“Stay away from me then.” He gritted his teeth.
Nicolette allowed her temper to cool. She had broken into his house before. She had trespassed tonight.
“This is where we end it.” She held his gaze as she said this, knowing all the base and vile things humans were capable of. Knowing what she was capable of if she allowed it, if she were pushed to the brink of having to protect Lydia, the only thing she had left. “Everything.”
“This is where we end it,” he said.
The porch had long been finished, and each immaculate ply of varnished wood soaked up the afternoon sunlight. Eight months had passed since Nicolette had first began the repair work, but it felt like longer. It also felt like the time had gone by quickly. She wondered how that could be. There was Renatus, and Lydia, and then the races that she never wanted any part of. She had bought a horse, won big, and then she lost him. She still had the ranch and she still had Lydia. Perhaps that was all she needed.
From the front steps where she sat, Nicolette’s eyes traveled across the nearly two acre property. Gordita raised her head and looked toward the house, the monotonous crunch of her jawbone the only sign of movement for quite some time, until she lowered her head to pull at the grass again.
As Nicolette got up and headed inside, she heard Lydia’s Jeep pull up, and just then another voice calling out. Nicolette went back out to see Detective Michelson climbing out of her black Crown Victoria. Lydia met Nicolette on the porch and slipped her hand into hers, a force of habit now. They waited together for Michelson as she took a manila envelope from her bag and strode over to them.
“We found your boy,” she said, and pulled out several photographs of the horse. “We found Renatus and he looks pretty damn good.”
The police had recovered Renatus in an abandoned barn, three hours away. By the time they brought him home to the ranch Nicolette had called the vet. Hyatt and two grooms from Frisch came over and everyone fawned and fidgeted over him. He was fine by all accounts, and so their attention once again turned to Adelmo and the investigation. Nicolette was relieved, but she wanted answers.
Answers came five months later in April. Adelmo was tracked to a farm in Kentucky, where he’d been working as a hired hand. When the authorities brought him back to Virginia, his bushy curls had been shaved off. He had also gained weight, an indication he’d fallen off his jockey diet.
The women sipped lemon tea as Detective Michelson laid out the case before them. George Bradford of Bradford Stables had spearheaded the theft, and who according to Adelmo, had pressed him to steal Renatus ever since the win at Monmouth.
“But why?” Nicolette asked, dumbfounded. “He can afford ten Renatuses.”
“Well.” Michelson put down her tea cup and opened a folder with her reports. “The same day you won at Monmouth, Bradford lost under…” she paused and looked at Lydia, “nearly catastrophic circumstances.”
“He did,” Nicolette said. “But that had nothing to do with us.”
“While that’s true, he wasn’t in the most logical emotional state after the events of that day. He suffered a devastating loss and not only did you win big, you did it with the same jockey. Meanwhile, his case is still listed as inconclusive.”
Nicolette considered revealing that it was Adley who had tampered with the saddle. He wanted to get back at Lydia for taunting him, but it was a stunt that could have had terrible consequences. She weighed the options in her mind. She had trespassed on his property when she thought he might have snatched Renatus. She was a repeat offender…
“I wasn’t in the best emotional state after what happened with Sweet Star,” Lydia was saying. “I could have been killed, and yet I didn’t go around stealing other people’s property.”
Nicolette put her arm around Lydia’s shoulder. “That was Bradford in the shadows outside our hotel, wasn’t it?” She recalled how the boy’s neck had been chafed. “I don’t understand why Adelmo didn’t just go to the police and report Bradford for harassment.”
“What did I tell you about that little critter?” Lydia said, getting worked up.
“Bradford’s motives I understand somewhat,” Michelson said. “He thought he’d been conspired against. He lost a lot of money and he was angry.” She looked at her watch and began to gather her things. “The kid was only given ten thousand dollars. He could have easily earned a good living in his career…”
“You’re assuming he’s any good.” Lydia smirked.
Michelson laughed and got up. The women walked her out, but when she reached the door she turned around and winked. “Actually, I can see how the kid could find a motive.”
Nicolette gasped at the detective’s cheekiness, but she couldn’t help grinning at Lydia, whose face had instantly pinched up into a frown.
The Albemarle stables were strangely serene. Each race up to that point had gone on without notable incident, and the usual routines of pre-race and post-race activity flowed throughout the day.
Nicolette approached Lydia, who stood alone with their new filly, Greenfield. She was almost afraid to disturb her, since she had now slipped into that contemplative bubble that enveloped her before a race.
“Ready?” Nicolette squeezed her shoulder to pull her from her thoughts.
“I’m ready.” Lydia smiled softly. “How do you think she’ll do?”
The young filly kept her head down. She had a more withdrawn nature than Renatus, but deep down she was fueled by a competitive fire.
Nicolette patted the horse’s head. “She’ll tear up the field,” she said as she craned her neck to kiss Lydia’s cheek. “And you are the best jockey in this race.”
She turned to head back out, but Lydia held onto her arm.
“I love you,” Lydia said, though it wasn’t the first time. Nicolette had said it once, a few months ago, and now she thought about saying it again. Lydia waited patiently, her brown eyes searching her girlfriend’s for affirmation. Nicolette wrapped her arms around her and drew her lips to hers. “I love you,” she whispered. “So much more every day.”
A deep blush infused Lydia’s cheeks.
“Now don’t get too worked up.” Nicolette laughed. “Bring this baby home.”
She went back out into the sunshine and climbed the stairs to join Mulder and Hyatt. Together they watched the post parade of horses. Greenfield strutted along and lifted her head proudly to the cheering crowd.
“Our girl is awake now,” Hyatt said, almost to himself as he studied the horse eagerly. “She’s coming alive.”
Nicolette kissed the crest on her forest green blazer and took in a deep breath. When she turned her head to follow them to the start, she made eye contact with Dracus Adley. A smile formed in his eyes and he tipped his hat as if a signal to their agreed upon truce. Nicolette tipped her imaginary hat and smiled.
She turned back to the track and the gates flew open.
Acknowledgement
The seed that would evolve into REBIRTH was planted three years ago, on a drive up the East Coast as I was coming back from Georgia with my sisters. Across the green fields from the narrow country road, I saw a willow tree and a beat up Chevy, alone on an open land. That image stuck with me and converged with the idea of a newly released jailbird, which had been brewing in my mind for a while.
Among the early readers, I must thank my friends Rachel Mansour and Andy Peters, as well as my writers group. My gratitude to author Anne Laughlin for her mentorship, and for her insight on developing my characters. Thanks to the Golden Crown Literary Society for their mentorship program, and for giving me the opportunity to work with Anne. My sincere thanks to proofreader Steven Ure for helping me polish this story, and to Littera Designs for another fitting cover.
I am forever grateful to my mother, Merle, for her gentle encouragement.
About the Author
C.A. Clemmings grew up in Kingston, Jamaica. She writes general fiction about ordinary characters with an enigmatic and enduring spirit. Her short stories, Placencia and Rebirth were published in eBook format and are available where eBooks are sold. Her debut novel, The Outlaw’s Enigma, will be published winter 2015. C.A. Clemmings lives in New Jersey. Visit her online at www.caclemmings.com.
REBIRTH
Copyright © 2014 C.A. Clemmings
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