Summer on Kendall Farm(43)

The woman smiled, handed her a card and said, “If you change your mind, I’m interested.”

Kelly slipped the card in a pocket, said good day and went off to the next emergency. By noon, the place was crowded, but the college students she’d hired seemed to be handling the traffic with skill. Kelly had to rush out to the ticket counter and provide more money to make change for entry fees. By one o’clock they were running low on pastries.

Kelly didn’t see Jace and Ari return. She was too busy. As she came down the stairs with an armload of flyers, she stumbled at seeing Jace. His arms came out and quickly caught her.

“Where do you want these?” he asked, taking the flyers from her hands.

“Gift shop, by the exit,” she said.

He left her, heading for the door with Exit written over it. Stunned for only a moment, before someone called for her attention, she wondered what had brought him back early. And where was Ari?

Jace turned and looked at her from the doorway. She silently thanked him with a smile and a nod. Surprisingly, several of the people she used to work with at the PR firm in New York, including her ex, Perry Streeter, showed up. “Your big debut! We’ve been anticipating this for some time now,” Perry said.

“Oh, have you?” Kelly asked flatly. The small group of six were standing in the front parlor as crowds milled around them.

“Certainly,” Perry said.

Kelly’s frustration was growing. She had no wish to encourage Perry on any level.

“I noticed a brochure in the Maryland House as I was traveling several weeks ago,” Cass Martin said. She was good at what she did. And Kelly had called her a friend while they’d worked together. But since Kelly had bought the Kendall, Cass hadn’t so much as called her cell phone. “You’ll have to excuse me,” Kelly said. “I have a lot to do.”

“No problem, we’ll talk after the tour,” Perry said.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Kelly called as she left them. What could they want? They didn’t travel all the way from New York to see the Kendall. Did they expect her to fall on her face? And wanted to bear witness to the deed?

“Who are they?” Jace asked indicating the group from New York.

“My former colleagues from the advertising firm where I used to work.”

“What do they want?”

“I haven’t any idea,” she said. “I’m more surprised than you that they showed up here. I can’t imagine there’s anything to gain.”

“Maybe they’re here to see you fail,” Jace suggested.

Kelly’s head came up quickly. She’d had the same thought.

“Don’t worry. We won’t let that happen.” He winked at her and left to go see to whatever was needed.

We, Kelly thought. Are we a we?

She didn’t have time to ponder that. One of the guests came up to her, a very tall statuesque woman with dark hair. She wore long pants, a short-sleeve blouse and a man’s vest. On her feet were expensive leather boots.She looked every bit the horsewoman.

“You’re the new owner, right?”

“Kelly Ashton.” She offered her hand and the woman shook it.

“I knew your father. He’d be so proud of what you’ve done with the Kendall.”

“I’m sorry. Your name?” Kelly asked.

“Oh, Susan Johnson. I used to work at the same farm where he worked.” Susan’s smile was warm and affectionate. “I was one of the people who exercised the horses. Of course, they never let me race one, but I always wanted to.”

“I know what you mean,” Kelly confided. “I love the feel of the wind when I ride.”

“One night just as the sun was setting, your dad came to me and said one of the horses needed exercising. I thought it was strange, since I usually did this in the morning. But he led me to the track. There was a horse already there. It was Silver, a golden palomino. I’ll never forget it. He told me to get in the saddle and to ride it as fast as I could all the way around the track three times.”

Kelly was smiling and tears collected in the corners of her eyes.

“Do you still ride?”

“I own a horse farm in Kentucky, but when I heard the Kendall was opening and an Ashton was responsible, I couldn’t stay away.”

“Thank you,” Kelly said.

“No, thank you. And thanks to your father. I’ll never forget him.” She patted Kelly’s hand, kissed her on the cheek. “I signed the guest book. You’re ever in Kentucky, please come and see me.”

She sounded sincere. “I will,” Kelly told her. With a smile, she went back to her tour.

The crowd began to thin around five. Kelly was dead tired, but she was also exhilarated. She didn’t know if they’d broken even according to her budget for day one, but she’d made at least five trips to the ticket counters to provide change for the entry fees. People left smiling and carrying boxes of the baked pastries to their cars.