Son of a Preacher Man

Epilogue


“I’m really nervous.” Nadya paced the tiny outer office, wearing a hole in the carpet with her Jimmy Choos. She was dressed in full lawyer battle gear, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from doing acrobatics in her stomach. “What if they don’t want to see me?”

“Then I’ll go in and beat them up.”

“Like you did to Mr. Taylor?” She gave him the look, but before she could say anything more the secretary returned.

“They’ll see you now. Right this way.”

J.T. held her hand as they followed the secretary down the hall. Pictures of horses lined both walls. A trophy case held gold plates and trophies of various sizes and more pictures of horses. A brochure on a bulletin board advertised riding lessons and trail rides coming soon. An idea began to form in her head, but before she could pursue it, the secretary opened the door and showed them into the office.

“Miss Sarov and Mr. McBride to see you,” the woman said before backing out of the room and closing the door.

Nadya looked at the two men facing her. One stood behind a desk, the other against a bookshelf nearby. The one behind the desk looked a bit older. He had thinning brown hair and blue eyes, and his stomach hung out over his jeans in a bit of a beer gut.

The second one was closer to her age. He had the same blue eyes as his brother, but he had laugh lines around his. His hair was darker and thicker, and he looked more bookish than outdoorsy. He stepped forward first.

“Hi. I’m Lloyd and this is Winston.”

“I’m J.T. McBride and this is my fiancée, Nadya.” He shook their hands. When Nadya just stood there frozen, he gave her a little nudge.

She didn’t know what to say. Oh God, she couldn’t think of anything. Her mind was blank. Finally, she blurted out the first thing that came to her head. “Do you two look like your father? My father? Our father?”

They exchanged a startled glance, then Winston took a picture off the desk. “This is our dad with our first Kentucky Derby contender. It’s an old picture, but he looked pretty much the same when he died.”

Nadya took the glass-framed picture and tried to find something of herself in the man standing next to the horse. His sons did indeed resemble him, but he’d passed very little genetic material along to her.

“I remember your mother. You favor her,” Winston said.

“You knew her?” Nadya was shocked.

“I was ten and loved hanging around the barn listening to the stable hands. Your grandfather and uncles worked with the colts and fillies. Your mama would bring lunch every day. I still remember the way she’d pet the newborn foals. They loved her, came right up to her. Your grandfather said she had the gift and it was too bad it was wasted on a girl.”

“That sounds about right.” Bastard.

“I don’t mean to sound crass, but what exactly can we do for you?” Lloyd asked.

“Two things. First, I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to contest the will. I can understand how you’d be upset about a portion of your inheritance going to someone you never knew existed.”

“We knew about you,” Winston said, shocking her.

“Excuse me?”

“After Daddy had his first heart attack, he told us what he’d done and how he regretted treating your mother that way. Said when he died he didn’t want us finding out about you from someone else.”

“And it didn’t bother you?” She had to sit down.

The brothers exchanged another look. “You didn’t know our mother. She had a very delicate constitution. It didn’t surprise us at all that Daddy found greener pastures, so to speak.”

“I see.” What did you say to something like that?

“We’ve had five years to process your existence. We have no interest in contesting your right to the hunting cabin or the land.”

“Thank you.” That was one worry off her mind. J.T. smiled at her reassuringly. They weren’t exactly killing the fatted calf, but neither were they throwing her out.

“You said two things. What’s the other?”

“On the way in, I noticed in addition to training thoroughbreds, you also offer riding lessons and trail rides.”

“That’s more of a side project. With the economy being as bad as it’s been, a lot of folks around these parts can’t keep horses anymore. When we can, we try to take horses in so they don’t have to be destroyed. Lloyd here had the idea that we should use them to offer riding lessons. It’s been a big hit. We even have an equine therapy program for disabled children.”

“That’s wonderful. Where do you do the trail rides, if I may ask?”

“Are you a rider?” Lloyd asked.

“I have no idea. I’ve never been around horses.”

“That’s a shame. You’re a horsewoman on both sides of your family tree. Maybe one day when you’re not dressed so nice you can come back and visit the barn.”

“I’d like that.”

“You asked about the trail rides. We haven’t worked out all the logistics of that yet. It’s one thing to have lessons on site. Getting a trailer of horses and enough personnel to lead a group is a whole different problem. There’s also the problem of where to ride. We’ve had a lot of folks interested, but we just don’t have the time or personnel to devote to finding a suitable location.”

“I think I know a mutually beneficial solution, gentlemen.” She could feel J.T.’s eyes on her. This wasn’t something they’d talked about before coming here. “As you may or may not know, the town of Dale has been hit hard by the recession. When the building market collapsed, so did the mill and many of the men who worked there have been unemployed ever since. The woods around Dale are rife with trails from all the hunting that was done in years past. I don’t have all the details figured out yet, but if you have the business, I bet I could not only come up with hard-working employees for you, I could find you a place to stable the trail horses so you wouldn’t have to trailer them back and forth, and guides who know the area.”

Nadya leaned back in her chair and tried not to show how nervous she was to hear their answer. The idea had holes big enough to drive a truck through, but it could quite possibly work. If people had to drive up to Dale to go on the trail rides, they’d stop in the general store for lunch and buy gas at Al’s and get ice cream at the Tasty Treat. Maybe other businesses would want to make a go of it in Dale because there’d be a rotating customer base.

It might not save Dale, but it couldn’t hurt.

“It’s an interesting concept. Send us a proposal and we’ll toss it around.” Winston handed her a business card with both of their email addresses on it.

“Thanks, I will.” She stood and offered her hand. “I won’t take up any more of your time. Thank you for meeting with me, and I’ll send you that proposal as soon as I can.”

“I’m…we’re glad you came,” Winston said. “And if you ever want to see if you have a knack for horses, we’d love to show you around the stables. It’d be a shame to waste the gift if you have it.”

Nadya recognized it for the olive branch it was and grasped it. “Thanks, I’ll take you up on that soon. I’m looking for office space in Canton, so I’m in the area a lot.”

“We’ll look forward to it.” Lloyd opened the door for her. “When’s the wedding, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“November. We have to wait for the matron of honor to have her baby.”

“That’s coming up soon. So you’re planning a wedding, renting office space and coming up with a business plan too? You’re one busy lady.”

“It keeps her out of trouble,” J.T. said.

“Oh, Miss Sarov, Nadya,” Winston stopped her as she was about to walk down the hall.

“Yes?”

“Your middle name is Grace, right?”

“Yes, it is. Why?”

“That was our grandmother’s name. Daddy always said she had a way with horses too. I guess your mama knew that and named you after her.”

Her throat clogged with tears. “Thank you.”

J.T. kept quiet on the ride home, and she appreciated the opportunity to collect herself. Finally, she said, “I guess my mama wanted me to have a little bit of my father, after all.”

“That was pretty thoughtful of her considering how he treated her.”

“I know. I always thought she picked Grace because it went with the meaning of my name.”

“What does Nadya mean?”

“Nadezhda is Russian for hope. Get it, hope and grace?”

“It fits. You’ve brought grace into my life and hope into Dale.”

“Who knows, maybe if this works they’ll even reopen the secondary school.”

“Then we’d better go make out behind the bleachers while we still can.” J.T. kissed her hand as they crossed the town line.

Sometimes you really could come home.



About the Author

Arianna Hart lives on the east coast with her husband, three daughters and two Siberian Huskies. She loves to read, write, and listen to live music. She can be reached on Facebook, Twitter, and loves to hear from readers at [email protected].