A Family Affair: Winter: Truth in Lies, Book 1 (23 page)

Jenny’s Promise was big and white like one of those horses with a horn in the middle of its head. She wanted to touch her, feel the soft fur under her fingers. Christine had told her not to make any quick moves; horses didn’t like that and they didn’t like it if a person was scared. She said they could tell if somebody was scared from the way they smelled. Lily wasn’t scared, she was excited. Jenny’s Promise was watching her. She smiled, waved at the white horse.

The man said she was next, just five more minutes. She straightened her hat, looked behind her. Mom, Christine, and Nate were right there waiting, too. Mom had the camera ready for when she got on Jenny’s Promise. She was going to take Lily’s picture, and it would be just like the one of Christine and Lady Annabelle.

Happy, happy, happy! She looked up at the sky, smiled. 
Watch me, Daddy. Watch me ride just like Christine did. Me and Christine, we’re your girls, Daddy.

“Should we go over everything one more time?”

Lily turned to Christine, shook her head. “I’m ready.” She giggled, straightened her hat again. “How do I look?”

“Like a rider,” Nate said.
“A real rider.”

“Press your knees against the horse’s belly,” Christine said. “Toes up in the stirrups, remember?”

“Yup. And don’t make any loud noises.”

“That’s right. And what do you do if she starts to go faster than you want her to?”

“Pull back on the reins.”

Christine smiled.
“Very good.”

Lily beamed. “What do I do if she takes off for that fence and tries to jump like Lady Annabelle used to?”

“She won’t, and besides Lady Annabelle was trained to jump.”

“But what do I do?”

“Well, if she heads for the fence, you lower your head, grab her neck, and hold on tight.”

“Okay.” Lily smiled, pushed up her glasses. “Maybe we can learn how to jump like you and Lady Annabelle.”

“How about one thing at a time?” Nate said. “Right now, why don’t you get on so Mom can take a picture of you?”

“Okay.”

The trainer, a man everyone called Mr. Lipton, came up to her. “Lily, we’re ready.”

“Okay.” She rubbed her hands together, let out a tiny squeal. “It’s time. I love you, Mom. I love you, Nate. I love you, Christine.”

“We love you, too, sweetheart,” Mom said.

She turned to go, remembered one more thing. “Christine, you got my watch, right?”

Her sister held up the gold pocket watch. “Right here, waiting for you.”

Jenny’s Promise was furry, not soft like a bunny, but kind of woolly like the neighbor’s dog, Jasper, in the winter. She thought she’d like to press her face to the animal’s side, feel her coat. Mr. Lipton helped her into the saddle and took hold of the reins.

She was so tall now, taller than Nate! Lily grinned at them, wanting to wave but not wanting to let go of the knob on the saddle. Her mother snapped her picture as she smiled down at them, happy, and excited to finally, finally be on a real horse. Mr. Lipton gave her the rules, but she knew them already, Christine had been teaching her for three days. It was hard to listen, hard to think about anything but riding the beautiful white horse.

“I’ll walk twice around the ring holding the reins, and then I’ll let you try by yourself.” Mr. Lipton patted the horse’s shoulder and they were off, walking and then bumpity-bumping along in what he called a trot. Jenny’s Promise was so big, her ears so pointy. Once, twice around with Lily holding the knob on the saddle, toes pointed up,
knees pressed into the horse’s sides. She looked up at the sky, grinned. 
Are you watching me, Daddy? Can you see me now?

“Okay, Lily.” Mr. Lipton handed her the reins. “Now you go twice around by yourself and I’ll watch. Just remember what we went over. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good luck. You can do it.”

She eased the horse into the ring, talking to her as they walked. “Isn’t this so much fun, Jenny? What do you think? Huh? I think it’s fun.” They moved along the path, the sun beating down on them. “Do you like the sun, Jenny? Do you get too hot?” She giggled. “Do you ever get a bath?” They made the first round and started on the second. “Does that thing hurt your mouth? I won’t pull too hard, okay? Is that better?” She leaned forward a little, whispered. “You know, my sister, Christine, had a horse that looked like you. Her name was Lady Annabelle and she won ribbons. Lots of them. Did you ever win a ribbon, Jenny? Huh?” She patted a patch of fur. “We could win ribbons, I bet. Me and you. What do you think?” 
Pat, pat, pat
. She glanced at the white fence in front of her. “Maybe if Mr. Lipton saw you jump, he’d let you be my horse and we could win ribbons together. Blue’s first place.” They were almost halfway around; the stretch of field past the white fence was green and soft-looking. “We could win lots of ribbons. Do you want to win a ribbon, Jenny? Do you want to be my horse?”

They
 
could
 win lots of ribbons just like Christine and Lady Annabelle. They could be just like them. Mr. Lipton just had to see that Jenny could jump.

“Let’s jump, Jenny. Let’s jump!” Lily kicked the animal’s sides hard like she’d seen cowboys do in the movies when they wanted to get their horses to run. Jenny’s Promise let out a yelp and took off, straight for the fence, fast, faster. “Go, girl!” Lily leaned in low, clutched her arms around the horse’s neck, just like Christine had told her to do.

She didn’t hear the screams behind her; there was nothing but the sound of hooves beating against the ground, the feel of the wind on her face, the rhythmic speed of Jenny’s Promise’s body, moving and rising, high, higher, lifting them over the fence in one perfect jump.

We did it! We did it!

Lily’s eyes were squeezed shut, a smile on her face when the horse stumbled and threw her to the ground. Jenny’s Promise recovered, tore across the field, stopping several hundred feet away, where she lowered her head and began grazing. Mr. Lipton was the first to reach Lily, the first to notice the unnatural bend to her leg as she lay face down in the moss-green pasture. He swore under his breath and made the sign of the cross, then knelt down and gently eased her onto her back. Lily’s eyes fluttered open and she whispered, “I did it. Just like Christine.”

***

Harry flipped through a client file and made a few notes. He’d done a little preventative maintenance, that was it. It was Christine’s client but she hadn’t been around much lately, so he’d handled it.

He could see why she liked Magdalena so much. He’d made the trip after Christine called him half-hysterical about the girl. It was just a broken leg; the kid was smiling and digging into a box of cherry cordials when he visited her at the hospital. She even called him Uncle Harry. What the hell, why not?

The instant he looked into Miriam Desantro’s hazel eyes, heard her soft voice, he knew why Charlie had fallen for her. She was a genuine piece of humanity, sincere, gracious, kind of like Greta in a way, and not bad to look at either. The son wasn’t the son of a bitch Harry thought he’d be. Chrissie hardly left his side and he was glued pretty tight to her, too. If Harry’s mother had been shacking up with a married man for fourteen years and had a kid with her, he doubted he’d be rolling out the red carpet when the guy died. Either way, Harry liked the guy. He wasn’t a Connor Pendleton, thank God. Actually, he was quite civilized, quiet, but that was better than running at the mouth all night. Chrissie said he’d had a full beard but shaved it the morning after the girl broke her leg because she’d never liked it, said it was too scratchy.

The knock on the door yanked him from his thoughts. “Come in.”

It was Chrissie, arms loaded with a stack of files. She looked pale, thinner. In the two weeks since they’d been back, he’d hardly seen her; she’d been holed up at home doing paperwork or God knew what or buried in her office. “Hi, Uncle Harry, can I come in?”

“Hey, Chrissie girl.
You and the cleaning lady are the only ones brave enough to step foot in here. Come on in.”

She closed the door behind her, set the files on one of the chairs next to his desk, and sat in the other.

“What’s this?” He pointed to the files.

“Client files.” She fidgeted in her chair. “Some things I need to go over with you.”

“Oh?”

“It isn’t working, Uncle Harry. I can’t do this anymore.”

He didn’t have to ask what, he knew. She couldn’t live the life anymore, not since she’d found another one, a real one. “I know.”

“You do?”

“Give me a little credit for having at least a tiny bit of gray matter up here,” he said, pointing to his head. “And I’m not talking about the hair, either.”

“I do give you credit, Uncle Harry. You don’t give yourself enough.”

“You’re probably right, but you didn’t come here to talk about me, did you?”

“No.”

“You’re coming to dump these files on me, hoping that because I’ve been sneaking around helping you out, that maybe now I’ll start taking an interest in the company and handle some of your clients?”

“Well, kind of.”

He held up a hand. “I’m not finished yet. You’re doing all of this so you can clear your conscience and head back to that damn boyfriend of yours.”

“I thought you liked Nate.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I want him stealing you away.”

“He isn’t—”

“He already has, that whole damn town has. His mother, him, the girl, even that old geezer, Jack what’s his name, they’re all in love with you.”

She smiled. “Finnegan, Jack Finnegan.”

“Whatever.”

“I have to give something back, Uncle Harry. I’m going to teach the people of Magdalena how to protect their money and make it grow through investment strategies, savings,
debt reduction. Maybe I can even help them apply for small business loans, analyze mortgage rates, and things like that.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Those people need me and I need them.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She was slipping away, he could feel it.

“Nate said he might even consider starting a custom furniture-making business. I could help him with that, get all the financing in order, maybe even make a small investment, if he’d let me. And Miriam and Lily need me. I want to be there for them.”

“Okay, enough. I get the picture.”

“I’ll be back to see you, and you’ll come see me, it’s not that far.”

“Sure.” He twirled his pen between his fingers. “You tell your mother yet?”

“No.”

“Are you planning to or are you going to just let her find out when you don’t show up for Christmas dinner?”

“I don’t know. It’s not something you slip into casual conversation.”

“Are you ever going to forgive her?”
 
Are you ever going to forgive me?

“Some day.
I can’t deal with that whole issue right now. Uncle Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, kiddo.”

“And whether or not you’re my biological father, you did more for me these last months than any father would do for his daughter.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Thank you, Uncle Harry, for being a father to me when I really needed one.”

He opened his mouth to speak but damn it, he couldn’t get the words out. He coughed, cleared his throat, once, twice. “Charlie—”

“Was a good father, too.” She reached across the desk and squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to know which one of you was my biological father. I’ve been lucky enough to have two fathers in my life and that’s how I want to leave it.”

He nodded. “If I’d known you’d be looking at me like a father, hell, I would have watched my mouth around you.”

She laughed. “If you did, Uncle Harry, you wouldn’t be you.”

“You’ve got a point there.”

“I’ve got something for you.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a shiny, gold object. It was his father’s pocket watch.

“What the hell, where’d you get that?”

“Lily gave it to me.” She laid it on the desk, eased it toward him. “She said since you were the baby in the family you should have it, at least until she graduates.”

“No.” He gripped the armrests on his chair, pushed himself away. He’d spent half his life hating that damn watch, secretly wishing his father would consider giving it to him, knowing he wouldn’t. “I don’t want it.”

“Listen to me, please. Dad gave this watch to Lily because he wanted to break the horrible significance associated with owning it. When Lily looks at it, she sees beauty and she sees Dad. She wants you to have it now. Take it.”

“I…” He eyed the watch, still keeping a respectable distance from it.

“Take it, Uncle Harry. Don’t let your father have that hold over you. Take it; think of Lily, the little girl who changed all of our lives.”

He reached out, touched the watch’s face.

“It’s yours now, Uncle Harry.”