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Authors: Fern Michaels

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BOOK: Vegas Heat
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A prickle of fear rippled up Simon’s back. Would Fanny leave her children and move away? Now that Sunny was about to deliver, would Fanny walk away from her first grandchild? Did he have the right to expect her to say good-bye to her family? She would be giving up her businesses, too. It wasn’t going to be simple after all. Why couldn’t two people just fall in love and live happily ever after? Because life gets in the way, he answered himself.

He drove on, Fanny’s head on his shoulder. She didn’t wake until he pulled into Babylon’s underground garage. “Are we here already, Simon? I fell asleep. I’m so sorry. I think it was all that anxiety and then the outcome. Simon, I played your message over a hundred times. What should we do first?”

“Fanny, I don’t want to get married until this is over and done with. When we drive away from here I don’t want to have to worry about Ash’s enemies. Make no mistake, they are his enemies. No man is a law unto himself in this town even if his wife can turn switches and valves.”

“You’re scaring me, Simon.”

“That’s good, Fanny, because I don’t want you thinking those hoodlums in their three-piece suits were telling you the truth when they said they were legitimate businessmen. They aren’t. They caved in because you had them by the short hairs. They aren’t going to forget it. They won’t mess with you, but they will mess with Ash. Perhaps not right now. They’ll wait until things quiet down, and it’s business as usual. That’s when they’ll do something. Just be aware. I think we both need to talk to Ash. He won’t listen to either one of us, but I want to know I did everything I could to warn him. First it was the poker tournament. He aced them out on that. There was this little episode. That makes two. Three will not be Ash’s lucky number. I don’t know, maybe we can get through to him.”

“Don’t count on it, Simon. Ash doesn’t listen to anyone. I don’t want him to spoil this for us. Are we going to tell anyone, or are we just going to
do it?

“I say we just go off and do it. We’ll call when it’s a done deed.”

“Okay, Mr. Thornton. We have time to go upstairs to the office and tell everyone what’s going on before we walk to the attorney’s office. I’m sure the kids are worried.”

“Lead the way, Mrs. Thornton.”

 

“Talk about red letter days,” Ash’s voice boomed when Fanny and Simon walked through the door, his anger at his brother forgotten. His mood was expansive as he waved his arms about, his smile affable.

His eyes were so glassy Fanny could see herself in their depths. She could feel her insides start to churn. “Relax, Ash. Everything isn’t over yet. I’m on my way to the lawyer’s office to finalize everything. At that time I’ll have the water and power restored. I made a deal, Ash. Me. Not you. And you damn well better live up to it. You have bank rates on your loan. I suggest any monies above the norm last night and today go toward an up-front payment of your loan. Your riverboats in Mississippi are going to be leased to those people at an appropriate rate of interest. You’re ahead of the game, Ash. You’re alive. If you want, give them the riverboats and we’ll make it a wash and you won’t have that tremendous debt staring you in the face every day. I think I can make a deal on that. It’s your decision.”

“Fanny, Fanny, Fanny, you brought them to their knees. You cut deals like a pro. They have to respect that. I told you I wanted the power and water off for two more days. You don’t listen to me. Now, why is that, Fanny?”

“Because, Ash, you never say anything that makes sense. It’s always me, me, me. You never think about anyone else. Did you for one minute think about all those people who aren’t working because I shut the town down? Everything has its own ripple effect. I did what I did for you because I believed you would be killed. That’s what you told me. I will not do it again. This advice is free, Ash. Stay where there are people and don’t go anywhere alone. I have just enough time to get to the lawyer’s and then I’m leaving town for an indefinite period of time. I’ll say good-bye to the kids on the way out.”

“Wait just a damn minute, Fanny. What do you mean you’re going out of town? What if I need you?”

“What part didn’t you understand, Ash? I did what you wanted. You’re alive and well. You have the business to occupy you night and day.”

“You gave away my damn riverboats. You just up and gave them away That’s just like you, Fanny. Your way or no way. Go ahead, take your lover and get out of my casino. Who needs you anyway?”

Fanny’s shoulders sagged. “Have a nice day, Ash.”
I will not cry. I absolutely will not cry. I refuse to cry. He cannot make me cry. He’s to be pitied.

“If crying makes you feel better then cry, honey,” Simon said. “Ash was always a greedy horse’s patoot. Come on, it’s getting on toward ninety minutes. Are you comfortable with all your decisions?”

“Yes.”

“Then, say your good-byes so we can take care of business and get married.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything that sounds more wonderful. Do you think the dogs are okay in the car?”

“They’re sleeping like babies curled up together. They know we’re coming back. The windows are partially open and the garage is cool, not to mention the fact that the attendant is keeping his eye on them.”

Fanny’s children hugged her and Simon both. “You’re getting married, aren’t you?” Sunny whispered.

“Uh-huh.
I’ll call every day,
” Fanny promised. “Take care of yourself, Sunny, and keep those boys in line.”

“Be happy, Mom,” Birch said, a catch in his voice. “We’ll all miss you.

“Call Lily Bell and invite her for the weekend.”

“He already did that,” Sage said. “Have a good trip wherever it is you’re going.”

Fanny waved good-bye. “Why do I feel like I’m deserting them?” “Because you’ve never gone away from them before, and the trip to Hong Kong doesn’t count. They know you aren’t coming back, and you know it, too. They have their lives and you have yours. I’ve waited all my life for this day, Fanny, and I want to get on with it before it’s over. I’m giving you fifteen minutes in that lawyer’s office and that’s it.”

“Okay, Mr. Thornton.”

 

“Wait, Mrs. Thornton, I don’t understand. What you’re saying brings things to a wash. What about the... ?”

“You’re Jeb’s son, aren’t you?” At the man’s slight nod, Fanny said, “I thought so. The power and water are being turned on as we speak.” She eyed the metal suitcases on top of the desk. She knew they were full of money. Money they thought she wanted. “I hope I never have to do this again. I want you to know I meant every word I said back on the mountain. What’s it going to be?”

“We’ll lease the boats. We’ll pay three points above the bank rate. Is that satisfactory?”

“Yes.” To the lawyer she said, “Whatever those three points amount to moneywise, give it to the Thornton Medical Center and the Thornton Pediatric Unit every month.” Fanny scribbled her signature in six different places. She dusted her hands dramatically “Done.”

The man from the diner extended his hand. Fanny looked at it for a long moment before she held out her own hand. “I think Sallie and Jeb would approve,” she said quietly. Fanny raised her eyes to see a smile tug at the corners of the man’s mouth.

Fanny had to strain to hear the words, “You have nothing to fear from my people, Mrs. Thornton.”

Fanny smiled. “I can’t say the same thing ... sir. Stay on your toes and you’ll probably never see or hear from me again. There is every possibility that sometime in the future you might... need my help. I’m going to give you a number to call if that should happen. We’ll use the name Sallie as a reference.” The man nodded slightly.

Outside in the fresh air, Fanny took several deep breaths. “I’m ready, Simon.”

“Where are we going to do it?”

“At the first wedding chapel we come to. They sell rings and flowers and everything. I want a veil. I can’t get married without a veil. Oh, Simon, I forgot about you. What are you going to wear? Simon, Sage whispered something in my ear I want to share with you. He said, and this is a direct quote, ‘Mom,
I think
Uncle Simon is the wind beneath your sails.’ You are, my darling, Simon.”

Simon’s throat closed tight. In the whole of his life no one had ever said anything to him as wonderful-sounding as those few words. He smiled from ear to ear. He finally managed to say, “I don’t care what I wear. Does it matter to you?”

“No, Simon, it doesn’t matter in the least. I love you just the way you are and I’d marry you in your skivvies.”

P
ART
T
WO

1983-1984

7

Fanny stood on the front porch doing what she did every day at this hour: she surveyed her domain. She looked at the lush green grass in front of the house. At the straggly shrubbery, at the wilted pots of flowers. In the early morning, just as the sun was coming up, the lawn looked like a carpet of emeralds sprinkled with diamonds, thanks to the morning dew. She loved sitting on the front steps with her cup of coffee when the weather permitted. Simon preferred to sit at the kitchen table in his bathrobe.

A frown built between her brows. Once, in the early days of her marriage, she’d thought they were alike, preferring the same things. She’d been so wrong then. They didn’t even like the same food. Every day, seven days a week, she prepared two separate dinners, one for Simon and one for her. In the beginning it was fun, a challenge. Now, with the business going full steam, it was work. Everything was work. What she needed was a housekeeper, but Simon didn’t want anyone living in the house with them. She’d given in on that point. The truth was, she always gave in.

Fanny finished her coffee. Today was their anniversary. She’d washed her fine china, polished the candlesticks, had Ash send her a magnificent bottle of fine wine that was supposed to be a surprise, ironed her best linen tablecloth. Tonight she would make only one meal, Simon’s favorite, rare prime rib. She liked her meat well done. She would eat the ends.

Fanny set her empty cup on the steps. Her shoulders felt tense. A walk around the small yard might ease the tightness a little. She walked slowly, aware of the silence. It was so quiet here in Stallion Springs. She had no neighbors, no friends. Simon said they didn’t need any, they had each other and the dogs. Days were spent with the dogs they bred and her evenings were spent sewing, since Simon monopolized the television set.

I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy for a long time. She knew Simon was aware that something was wrong. So many times she tried to
talk to him, to explain that she wanted to go to town, back to Nevada for a visit. His excuse was always the same: When you have your own business, you’re married to that business. This business, he would go on to say, deals with flesh-and-blood animals. When we take a vacation, we’ll take it together. In three years they hadn’t had a vacation. This morning for the first time she realized she was a
prisoner
. She wasn’t under lock and key, but she was a prisoner nonetheless. Getting permission from Simon to go into town was a major ordeal. There’s no gas, I can’t find the keys, there’s something wrong with the tires. The list of excuses was endless.

The first months had been idyllic as the house and barns were being finished. Decorating had been such fun. And when the first batch of dogs arrived she had been ecstatic. She loved the tiny Yorkies they bred, and she hated giving them up. She was the one who cleaned the pens, fed them, and assigned them to the different buyers. Simon took care of the paperwork.

She longed for people, for her friends. During the second year she spent a great deal of time on the phone with Billie and Bess until Simon said the bills were too high. He’d sulked for seven straight days when she said she would pay the bill with her own money. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he listened in on her phone conversations. He’d sulked for two straight weeks the day Bess showed up unexpectedly yelling “SURPRISE!” at the top of her lungs. He’d been cold but civil. Bess had never come back to visit, nor had Billie.

Fanny stood back to look at the spacious log cabin that was her home. At best it was Spartan. Simon didn’t like what he called clutter while she loved knickknacks, family pictures, collectibles. All her treasures were still in the packing boxes. She shaded her eyes from the late-afternoon sun to look around the eleven acres that was now her home.

It was a far cry from Sunrise. Trees were trees, but somehow the trees at Sunrise seemed like they belonged while these trees just stood there, straggly, ugly, barren-looking in the winter. She’d made an effort in the beginning to prune the bushes, to plant flowers, to clear away the brush, but Simon had ridiculed her efforts. Rather than see that cold, blank look in her husband’s eyes, she’d given up her gardening efforts. Everything now was overgrown and straggly-looking. The urge to cry was so strong, Fanny bit down on her lower lip.

“Fanny! Fanny!” Fanny looked at the cabin, then at the barn. If she went to the barn, there was every chance her roast would be overdone and her anniversary dinner would be spoiled. “Just a minute, Simon.”

“Now, Fanny.”

Fanny ran to the barn. “Cissie’s ahead of schedule. You need to calm her. Where were you? Don’t tell me. You were talking on the phone to Sunny again. How the hell many times did she call today? I thought you were going to tell her to stop calling so much.”

“I wasn’t talking to Sunny. I was cooking dinner. Just to keep the record clear, my daughter didn’t call today”

“It’s still early, she will. With a kid and a new baby to take care of, you have to wonder where she gets the time to call you six times a day.”

“She never calls more than twice a day I’m her mother, Simon. I like talking to my daughter. Especially when you don’t listen to our conversations,” Fanny snapped. She dropped to her knees to stroke Cissie’s head. “There are times, Simon, when I think you are trying to drive a wedge between me and my family.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Really. Then why did you object to me putting pictures of my family in the living room?”

“Because they’re your family, not our family. We have our own life now. If you weren’t so tight-assed about things, we could have a wonderful life.”

Fanny tried to keep her voice on a conversational level so Cissie wouldn’t get excited. “You knew I had a family when I married you. My children are your nieces and nephews, so they are your family, too.”

“They’re Ash’s kids, not mine.”

“What do you want me to say, Simon?”

“I’d like it if you wouldn’t let them infringe on our life. It was fine in the beginning, then that daughter of yours started calling every two minutes because she misses her mommy. For God’s sake, Fanny, they’re grown men and women.”

“I wonder why you married me, Simon. I never pretended to be anything but what I am. What I am is what you said you loved about me. You really should go see about the roast if you want me to stay here.”

“I have to get Flossie and Flicker ready and their paperwork done because the Albertsons are coming to pick them up at six o’clock. That’s a thousand dollars, Fanny, and I think it’s a little more important than your roast.”

“Simon, did you forget, it’s our anniversary? I was making a special dinner.”

“Did you whine like this with Ash?”

“Why is it everything I do has to tie in with Ash in your mind? I hate it when you do this, Simon. I really hate it. Another thing, the Albertsons called to say they told you yesterday they wouldn’t be picking up the dogs till nine tomorrow morning. Mrs. Albertson said she spoke to you. She was just calling today to remind us. So, are you going to look at the roast or not? Personally, I don’t care one way or the other.”

“If you don’t care, then why should I do it?”

Fanny could feel her eyes start to burn. “Suit yourself.”

“You aren’t happy, are you, Fanny?”

Fanny was tempted to lie. “No, Simon, I’m not happy.”

“You compare this marriage to the one you had with Ash, right?”

“Wrong.” Fanny felt herself flush with the lie.

“Maybe we should invite him for the weekend.”

“Maybe we should,” Fanny said through clenched teeth.

“You’ll see him at the christening. It’s a one-day thing, Fanny. I’m not staying.”

“Suit yourself. I’m staying longer. I want to see Billie and Thad. I want to do some shopping with Bess, and I want to visit with my children. I want to get to know my grandchildren.”

Simon’s steely gaze pierced her. “When were you going to tell me your plans?”

“When it was time to leave. I hate fighting with you. Why should I make myself miserable two days in advance? Simon, what has happened to us? It’s all going wrong.”

“If you would spend a little more time with me and a little less with your kids, we wouldn’t squabble so much.”

“I’m really sorry you feel like this. I’ve given one hundred percent to this marriage to the exclusion of all else. When I go up to the house, since there’s no point in trying to save dinner, I’m going to unpack my boxes and I’m going to put out my pictures. I’m going to town tomorrow and buy frames for Jake’s pictures. I think you might have given maybe 10 percent. Those aren’t very good numbers, Simon.” Fanny continued stroking Cissie’s head.

“Fanny, what are you talking about? You’re making me sound like some kind of ... an ogre. I just don’t see why we need pictures everywhere. I don’t like clutter. You knew that when you married me.”

“Maybe you don’t need pictures, but I do, and I don’t think my family should be considered as clutter. I’m sorry I didn’t bring this up a long time ago. I hate fighting with you, Simon.”

“We aren’t fighting. We’re having a discussion. Fighting is what you used to do with Ash. I think you have us mixed up.”

“You see, Simon, that’s where you’re wrong. I know exactly who it is that’s mixed up, and it isn’t me. I’ve had it. I’m sick and tired of your attitude. I’m sick and tired of hearing Ash’s name in every conversation we have. Three’s a crowd, Simon, in case you haven’t noticed. I was hoping today, because it’s our anniversary, that we could have a nice dinner and try to get back to where we were. Our marriage is in trouble, Simon.”

“If you’d stop seeing problems where there are no problems, if you’d do as I ask you to do, you wouldn’t be causing yourself so many problems.”

“For three years, Simon, you’ve been trying to make me into someone I’m not. I allowed it because I loved you so much. I desperately wanted this marriage to work. I would have stood on my head if that’s what you wanted. Nothing I do is good enough for you. I’m sorry. This simply is not working for me.”

“What the hell does that mean, Fanny?”

“It’s not working. I’m not happy. I’m tired of trying. The only thing I want right now is to pack for my trip back home. I’m counting the hours. Actually, Simon, I’m counting the minutes. Now, be quiet. The pups are coming.”

Two hours later, mother and six pups were resting comfortably. Fanny washed her hands, dried them, and left the barn. In the kitchen she removed the overdone roast from the oven and dumped it in the sink along with the pared vegetables and salad. The garbage disposal struggled to grind the voluminous amount of food. She returned the candlesticks and candles to the china cabinet. The last thing she did was to fold her linen tablecloth and put away her good china. The wine bottle stood on the counter in full view. Retail it would have cost close to $200. Ash had told her to consider it an anniversary present even though she’d asked him to send it to her.

Fanny saw Simon’s shadow in the doorway before he opened the screen door. She sucked in her breath. Where had it all gone awry? What did she do that was so wrong? How much more could she do? Her eyes sparked as she reached for the wine bottle.

“Where did that come from?”

“Nevada. Surely you realize the liquor stores around here don’t stock this kind of wine. I wanted it to be special because I mistakenly thought today was a special day. In a way it was, Cissie had six beautiful pups.”

“Did Ash send this wine?”

“Yes, he did. At my request. You can either join me or you can drink your orange, grapefruit, lemon juice. I really don’t care, Simon.”

Simon snatched the wine from her hands and poured it down the drain.

Fanny stared at her husband for a full five minutes before she got up from her chair. She walked upstairs, tossed her makeup into a small bag along with a nightshirt. She looked around for her purse. She reached for it along with her jacket.

“What are you doing, Fanny? Where are you going?”

“Back where I belong. Get out of my way, Simon.” His arm stretched across the open doorway. Fanny ducked under it and ran down the steps. Simon followed her, taking the steps two at a time.

Simon’s voice was outraged when he shouted, “You’re walking out on me on our anniversary? Isn’t that what Ash used to do to you?”

“Shut the hell up, Simon.” Fanny turned the key in the ignition. “I’m going to Sunrise. We were both invited. If you want to join me on Sunday, do so. If you don’t, that’s okay, too. Now get the hell out of my way before I run over you. Oh, yes, happy anniversary.”

Simon stared at the back of the Jeep Cherokee as it roared down the driveway. His eyes were cold and calculating when he returned to the fragrant kitchen to pour himself a glass of juice. “This is all your fault, Ash,” he muttered as he downed the juice. “Everything that’s ever gone wrong in my life is your fault, you son of a bitch.”

 

Sunny Thornton Ford rocked quietly in the comfortable rocking chair, her eyes on the toddler playing with a basket of colorful blocks, her arms warm and full with seven-week-old Polly. She leaned her head back into the softness of the rocker to allow the fear she always felt to take over her body. Fear she always felt when things were too quiet, too serene. She had to do something. Very soon.

Her gaze dropped to the basket of mail at the side of the rocker. She could pull it off if she really tried. Tyler would never stop her from going to her college reunion and she knew for a fact he wouldn’t be able to go with her. She had capable household help and her sister Billie said she’d stop by twice a day to play with little Jake and Polly. She could do it. She’d attend the reunion, get her picture taken, take a roll of film herself, sign all the old yearbooks, get hers signed, gather up all the handout materials and stuff everything in one envelope to show Tyler on her return. The moment she was free she would head for Boston and the Leahy Clinic. Three days of intensive testing would tell her what was wrong and if it was possible to correct her condition. She would pay for the tests with cash, so nothing would show up on her health insurance.

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