Best Kept Secrets(90)



overseeing the activity. As she approached, she tried

not to let her apprehension show. She wasn't certain how she

would be received.

"You're right on time," he said.

So, he knew she was expected. "Hello, Angus."

"Punctuality is a virtue. So's having guts. You've got 'em,

little lady." He nodded his approval. "It took guts for you



show your face around here today." He appraised her

squinted eyes. "In that respect, you're a lot like your

'mama. She was no shrinking violet."

? "No?"

He chuckled. "I saw her hold her own with those two

hellions--Reede and Junior--many a time."

His chuckles faded into silent smiles of fond remembrance

as he contemplated the horizon. "If she'd lived, she'd've

become quite a woman." His eyes came back to Alex.

; "She'd've been like you, I guess. If I'd ever had a daughter,

I'd have wanted her to be like you."

Discomfited by the unexpected statement, she said, "I

apologize for being even remotely connected to this, Angus."

She made a sweeping gesture that encompassed all the damage.

"I hope Reede finds whoever did it. I hope they're

prosecuted and convicted."

"Yeah, so do I. Most of it I can overlook." He glanced

down at the broken window glass on the porch.' 'But that was

a terrible waste of good horseflesh. I hate like hell that Reede

I lost him. He took pride in saving up enough to buy him.''

"He seemed extremely upset," Alex said, turning to watch

as Reede went to his truck and spoke into the radio transmitter.

"More like enraged. He's as jealous as a mama bear when

it comes to anything that belongs to him. It's understandable,

I guess, considering how he grew up. Didn't have a pot to

piss in, not even anybody to look out for him. Lived on hand

;

me-downs and handouts. Once you've been a scavenger in

aider to survive, I reckon it's a tough habit to break. He's

mean and testy 'cause at times his life depended on it."

Junior breezed through the front door then, beaming his famous

smile. He was in an inappropriately jovial mood. Unlike

~ Reede and Angus, his clothes were spotless. If he'd ever broken a sweat, one couldn't tell it by looking at him now.

After greeting Alex warmly, he said, "Y'all wouldn't be?

lieve the telephone conversation I just had. One of the owners

called to check on her mare mat's in foal. Bad news travels

fast in racehorse circles," he informed Alex.



"Anyway, she had this high, falsetto voice and was saying,

'My poor baby must have been scared out of her wits.' I

reassured her that the mare was in another barn, but she kept

me on the phone for half an hour, making me swear that her

baby and her baby's baby were okay."

He had imitated the woman's warbling, soprano voice.

Angus and Alex were laughing. Suddenly, from the corner

of her eye, Alex caught Reede watching them. He was standing

perfectly still, and, though it was too far away to tell,

she was certain he didn't like what he saw. His resentment

seemed to ride the airwaves until they struck her with near-palpable

force.

"I'd better go inside or I'll be late for tea," she told the

men.

Junior laid a hand on her shoulder. "Mother wants to make

amends for her outburst last night. She was tickled pink when

you accepted her invitation. She's looking forward to seeing

you."

1





Twenty-five



Lupe took her coat and led her upstairs. The maid paused

outside a door and gave it a soft tap.

"Come in."

Lupe swung the door open, but didn't go in. Taking that

as her cue, Alex stepped across the threshold into a room

that could have been a movie set. Her remark was spontaneous

and genuine. "What a beautiful room!"

"Thank you. I like it." Sarah Jo looked beyond Alex's

shoulder. "Close the door, please, Lupe. You know I can't



that draft, and the racket those workers are making is

deplorable. Bring up the tea tray right away."

"Yes, ma'am." The housekeeper withdrew, leaving them



Alex stood near the door, feeling self-conscious in her low-suede

boots and long wool skirt. There was nothing

; wrong with her totally black ensemble, but it seemed glaringly

modern and out of place in this ultrafeminine Victorian room,

which smelled like a perfumery.

Her hostess looked as right in the setting as a whirling

ballerina in a musical jewelry box. The ruffles along the

neckline of her white blouse were duplicated around her slender

wrists. She was wearing a soft beige skirt that fanned out

around her where she sat on a robin's egg-blue damask divan

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