Flying Backwards (17 page)

“That is tragic,” Ashley rasped as she rolled over.

“I know! My parents are crazy.” Bree sounded dejected.

“Yes, they are crazy, but that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s tragic that you have to work on your American holiday. Aren’t there barbeques and fireworks? I love fireworks,” Ashley remarked. Bree rolled her eyes and laughed.

Ashley came up on one elbow. “By the way, we have to leave here in an hour. I booked us hair appointments at the Gloria McPhee salon.”

“Ash, that’s perfect! I’ll get dressed. Then let’s get some coffee.” Bree climbed over Ashley and grabbed some clothes on her way to the bathroom.

“If you’re hungry, my mum always puts out a big spread of food for the service people and the staff on event mornings. Happy people, better service.” She shrugged. “The raspberry scones are my favorite.”

Nora thought Ashley looked like a little kid with her freckled face and cartoon pajamas. “Ash, I’m glad we are getting to know each other. I hope you know I really appreciate everything. I’m glad I came.” Nora placed the invitation back on the nightstand.

Ashley sat up and swung her feet to the floor. “Aw, anytime, Nora. I’m glad you are here.”

* * *

It was time to make their entrance to the grand gala. Nora and Ashley sat chatting in Bree’s bedroom while they waited for Bree to finish with her makeup. “Okay, how do I look?”

“Gorgeous.” Nora admired her.

“Wow, Bree. You look fan-
tas
-tic!” Ashley applauded. Bree’s golden hair was swept to one side and tied in an intricate knot. Her strapless cocktail dress was snug on her size-two frame. The dress was a radiant blue that complemented her azure eyes.

“Thanks. So do you.” Bree admired Ashley’s little black dress with its matching shrug. Her kinky hair was smoothed out and braided in a ring around her head, courtesy of the Gloria McPhee salon, which employed a team of girls who could do amazing things with braids.

“Nora, every time I see that dress on you I love it even more. It was made for your body.”

Nora was flattered by Bree’s blatant praise. She smoothed her hand over her flat stomach. She was a couple sizes bigger than Bree. Nora’s hips were fuller, and she had two cup sizes on Bree’s slender boyish figure. She felt pretty good about herself. Nora reached up to touch her hair. It was parted in the center with an intricate maze of braids that interconnected down her back. The girl at the salon had done a stunning job. Her indecisiveness over getting her hair cut last month had paid off. It had grown back down to her elbows, giving the girl plenty of hair to work with. Everyone in the salon had ooohed and ahhhed.

Nora had been peeking out the window for the past hour at the steady line of limousines pulling up to the grand front entrance. Attendants opened doors and ushered in regally dressed guests laden with expensive jewels and watches. A hired photographer discreetly took photos.

The trio walked carefully down the stairs, each in five-inch heels. Nora noticed a guy standing at the bottom of the grand staircase with his elbow propped on the thick newel post. He was tall, his auburn hair the same shade as Ashley’s. He was watching with a smirk on his freckled face.

“Hey, Evan,” Bree called to him. “That’s Ashley’s brother,” she said in a rush to Nora as she hurried down the remaining steps to give him a big hug. “I’m glad you made it.”

Evan held Bree at arm’s length and said, “You look lovely, as always.”

“You look pretty good yourself.” Bree paused a moment and turned to Nora, who stood next to her on the step. “Evan, I want you to meet my good friend and roommate, Nora.”

They shook hands and made some small talk. The group worked its way through the crowd in the corridor toward the dining room. The two sets of double doors were swung open; the ornate formal dining room doubled as the ballroom where guests mingled. All the furniture had been removed. Drinks were served in crystal glasses, and staff members wearing white suits and white gloves offered hors d’oeuvres to guests on silver trays.

Nora sipped champagne, her eyes scanning the crowd. She recognized a few faces from the evening at the bridge, although those people were almost unrecognizable in their finery. She was introduced to a variety of polite strangers. Nora was relieved to see the familiar faces of Derek and Judy Westborough and their daughter Corrine. Her chest tightened in disappointment; she did not see Ben with them.
He told Ashley he would come
.

“Where is Ben?” Evan asked. “Don’t tell me he was excused from this event,” he joked.

“He’ll be here soon,” Judy reassured everyone.

Corrine explained, “His mare is probably going into labor tonight. We’ll be lucky if he stops by. He was still in the stables when we left.” Judy shot her stepdaughter a look.

There was the briefest lull before a tall man sauntered over to them with a drink in his hand. “Son.” He looked at Even. “I’m glad to see you made it.” The deep voice preceded the man as he approached. Evan shook his head, smiling.

“Hello, Father. I’m glad to see you made it as well.” Even though the two men didn’t look alike, Nora noticed that they shared the same mirthful sparkle in their eyes. Ashley had told Nora both men had arrived late that afternoon, much to her mother’s irritation, because after all her mother was responsible for everything, and she felt the least her son and husband could do was arrive on time.

“Hi, Daddy.” Ashley popped up, competing with her brother for her father’s attention. Ashley was receiving a peck on the cheek from her father when Mrs. Andrews caught up with her husband. She gave him a smile, but her eyes clearly said, “You have finally arrived!” She then turned her attention to her guests, greeting them graciously. Nora was introduced, charmed by Mr. Andrews. His laugh was loud and infectious. He spoke to them for the appropriate period of time and then excused himself to continue working the room alongside his wife.

A small stage had been set up at one end of the ballroom to accommodate a podium and microphone. At the other end of the room, a seven-piece band played soft classical numbers. At seven o’clock, Mrs. Andrews announced the first guest speaker. The room quieted, and Nora listened respectfully. As the speaker droned on, all Nora could think about was how much her five-inch heels were hurting her feet. She excused herself and headed for the ladies room.

On her way back, she paused outside the ballroom. The hallway was much quieter and cooler. It was thrilling that she had met some celebrities, though somewhat anticlimactic since she hadn’t heard of those particular British personalities. She had met some musicians and politicians too. But she wished Ben were here. Just then she turned and looked over her shoulder–and there he was.
My wish came true!

He was listening from the hall. He looked amazing in his black tuxedo and bow tie. His hair was combed neatly. His green eyes never left her. Nora abandoned the ballroom and snuck off toward him.

“Hi. You made it. How’s the mare? Corrine said she could go into labor tonight,” Nora said in hushed tones.

“Hi. Yeah, I can’t stay long, but I had to see…‌umm.” His eyes lingered on her face.

See you?
Nora wondered if that was what he had been going to say.

He cleared his throat and glanced away before he said, “I had to make an appearance. I would never want to disappoint Mrs. Andrews.”

Right, an appearance,
Nora sighed as she noticed his mouth and teeth. He had nice, even teeth, kind of flat across the front, the eye teeth more prominent.

He added softly, “You look beautiful, and your hair is stunning.” Her gaze lifted to his, and he seemed momentarily lost. A strange longing filled her awareness. She thought anyone nearby would sense the crackle of electricity in the air around them.

“Thanks.” She smiled self-consciously, her fingers grazing her braids.

Ben glanced away, the din of the party apparently pulling him back to the present. He shifted and took a breath, visibly collected himself, and smirked, “Maybe you could braid some manes. You’ve quite a talent.” His joke broke the spell and lightened the mood. “For the horses?”

He got the result he wanted. Nora burst out laughing but quickly stifled it with her fist. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping she hadn’t drawn attention. “I didn’t braid it! I went to the Gloria McPhee salon.” Ben laughed quietly, his shoulders pumping, but she knew he’d meant his compliment. She caught him still admiring her under his lowered lashes. They heard applause, and then guests spilled out into the hall. Nora and Ben worked their way against the crowd toward their friends.

They found the others snatching more champagne from the unending stream of silver trays. Evan and Ben greeting each other like old friends, slapping each other on the back. The group stood together gossiping about who was who until the dinner announcement. Dinner was being served outside in tents, and everyone funneled in that direction. The tables were beautifully adorned with white linens and bouquets of flowers, with specialty chocolates at each place setting. Dinner was served efficiently. Later, guests migrated to the island of curved tables laden with desserts and ice sculptures in the adjacent garden.

Nora and her friends were walking away from the dessert island when another guest speaker was announced. Just beyond the garden was an outdoor theater. Ben hung back, looking at his watch. Nora paused to wait for him.

“I’ve got to go. It’s time I get back,” he said apologetically.

“Oh.” Nora was disappointed.

Ben quietly offered, “You could come with me.”

“Oh.” Now she was surprised.

“Sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to leave all this to hang out in the stables.” Ben sniffed, as if he’d made a foolish suggestion.

“Ben, I’d love to go with you,” she replied.

“Really?” He sounded doubtful.

“One second.” She turned and called to Bree, who was starting to follow the crowd that was channeling down the lawn to the theater. “Do you mind if I leave with Ben? He wants to get back to the mare, and he asked me to join him. I might get to see her give birth.”

“Okay. Sure. I don’t mind. Birth sounds dirty and gross, but since you’re excited about it…‌have fun, I guess.” Bree’s eyes strayed to Ben, who glanced everywhere but in their direction. Then she cocked her head at Nora, raising her eyebrows.

“Okay, bye.” Nora walked as fast as her five-inch heals could take her back to Ben, and together they made their way to the house.

They slipped inside, and he directed her down a darkened hallway to the back staircase. When Nora looked at him, puzzled, he said, “You might want to change into something you don’t mind getting dirty.”

“Right! Give me five minutes.” Her foot paused on the first step at his voice.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? You can change your mind.” When she shook her head he replied, “Nora, you are an interesting girl.”

She didn’t want him to see her grin at his words, so she turned and clacked up the stairs, feeling his eyes on her backside.

Chapter Thirteen

Nora returned in jeans and a tank top, a sweater tucked under her arm. Ben gestured for her to walk in front of him. When they approached the gilt mirror, Nora checked to make sure her braids were intact. That was when she observed that his inconspicuous glances were repeatedly returning to her. They proceeded out the back door; he’d parked his Land Rover in the service lot. He opened the passenger door for her and then got behind the wheel. He drove around on the grass, avoiding the limousines parked everywhere.

“So what made you decide to come? Have you ever seen an animal give birth before?” Nora could not quite see his face in the darkness of the vehicle, but she could see the outline of his profile.

“Actually, I have seen a live birth. The annual county fair in Pennsylvania had a birthing tent. I saw a cow give birth when I was nine. Even at that age I thought it was pretty cool. The fair runs for a week. It’s a big hit with the local kids. The schools in my hometown close for one day, appropriately named Fair Day, so local families can attend and support the community.”

“It sounds pretty rural where you grew up. So you’re a country girl?”

“Yeah, lots of farms. My parents still live there. It was a great place to grow up.”

They pulled down the tree-lined lane; he stopped in the gravel lot. “Come on in. I’m going to change.” He was already tugging at his bowtie.

He came back, his feet in socks, dressed in a white T-shirt, a flannel shirt over it. He wore the same kind of tan cargo pants he’d had on the other day. She followed him to a mudroom, where he slipped into work boots. “Okay, it’s show time.” He smiled up at her as he tied his boots.

“Tell me about the mare.”

Ben told her the horse’s breed and where she came from; she was a valuable show horse, and her name was Duchess. Inside the stable, Ben stopped at the stall and looked at the mare, apparently in an advanced stage of labor.

Ben entered the stall. “How is she? Stats?” he asked the guy who was bent down, pressing his palms around the horse’s belly. The honey-colored mare was lying in the hay, her breathing labored.

The other man stood, reached for a clipboard, and discussed the information with Ben. “Okay, good.” Ben nodded in satisfaction. “Ah, Keegan, this is Nora. Nora, this is Keegan, the assistant veterinarian.” He noticed Keegan smiling at Nora.

“Hello,” Keegan said in a heavy Irish brogue, eyeing wide-eyed Nora, who hung back out of the way. “I can see why you attended the gala even with Duchess so near her time,” he remarked to Ben. “Did you kidnap this lovely lass from that fancy party?” He flashed Nora a smile framed in whiskers.

“Something like that.” Ben grinned. He stepped over the mare’s front legs and squatted down beside her. “All right, Duchess,” he cooed. “I’m sure you are excited to meet your new foal. Take it easy.” He pressing around her distended belly like Keegan had been doing. “Good Duchess. Good girl.”

Nora laid her sweater, unnecessary in the warm stable, on a nearby bench and stood watching Ben. “Nora, come here,” Ben encouraged. “Come feel.” Nora stepped into the thick straw lining the stall. Ben dropped a knee to the floor, leaning back so Nora could fit in the space before him. He circled his arms around her, clasped his hand over hers, and guided it over the soft coat of Duchess’s belly.