Harnessed Passions (4 page)

Daniel smiled at the peaceful contentment
that surrounded him, unaware of what the future held in store. He
knew only a portion of what Victor Turner had planned, yet it was
far more than he felt he deserved, and regardless of his constant
arguing with the old man, he just wouldn't listen to reason. Daniel
knew Victor's children would be furious when they learned their
father had left him half the stables. He was certain there would be
a fight on his hands, but it had been Victor’s wishes and he would
never go against a dying man’s last request.

Sighing deeply, he leaned back in the saddle
and tipped his face toward the sun. He loved the dry warmer climate
of Kentucky compared to his home country of England. Though it
rained, it was never as wet or cold as London. It was an inviting
land and he had spent five years building a strong relationship
with the property owner. He thought of him more as a father than a
friend or client; a thought even Louise felt content with. Though
he knew the will had already drawn up, he couldn’t seem to get his
mind off the heirs to the fortune or what their reactions would be
when they learned they would be sharing the stables with a complete
stranger.

Victor often spoke of his
two children, Julia and Jeremy. Julia, he said, was pampered beyond
the point of reason, yet she would always be his angel. He
described her briefly as being
ornery
and
hot
headed
saying she had a bite as deadly as a
scorpion and a tongue as sharp as a whip. There was a definite
gentleness about the way he spoke of his daughter; a sparkle in his
eye when his thoughts drifted over the years of happy
memories.

He said she moved to Boston to be nanny to
his sister-in-law's three children, but he never really went beyond
that. He mentioned once a tragedy that had driven Julia from
Kentucky, making her swear never to return. Daniel assumed it must
have had something to do with an undesirable man; an unsuitable or
unfortunate love affair, perhaps.

Daniel snickered to himself, remembering the
many young debutants he knew back in London, who fell into the same
category; innocent by day and hotter than hades by night. No matter
how much Victor pleaded or plotted, Julia refused to return home.
The sorrow in the man's weak voice made Daniel suspect, being part
owner of Turner Stables really wouldn't matter much to her. Her
intentions - according to Victor - was to live the life she made
for herself; which meant she would want to return to Boston as soon
as he was dead and buried.

Jeremy wasn't described in quite as loving a
way as his older sister. Victor stated that his only son had been
reckless and somewhat of a playboy, in his earlier days. He hated
everything his father offered to him, even to the point of using an
inheritance from his grandmother to put him through school rather
than the money his parents offered him. Victor said he was just as
stubborn as sister and never agreed with anyone about anything,
least of all his own father. The only good thing he said about his
youngest child was how much he loved and respected his mother.

Of Julia, Victor's tone always seemed to be
more admiring than the one he used when speaking of Jeremy. He
spoke often of a little girl growing up, who would ride with her
daddy when he would go to round up the horses. He said if it wasn't
for her bull-headed attitude, she would have had no faults
whatsoever and blaimed his wife's Italian blood for her
determination.

Louise Turner on the other hand spoke
lovingly of both her children, as Daniel knew only a mother could.
Good or bad, her children were her pride and soul. She agreed that
both were stubborn and independent and even admitted that they were
somewhat spoiled, yet there was nothing unfavorable that she could
- or perhaps would - mention of either one of them.

She bragged her son Jeremy up, mentioning
time and again how he would soon be graduating college and how she
wished he would move back to Kentucky when he did. She loved her
youngest child, and even went so far as to mention several
prospective and desirable young girls whom she felt would make a
proper wife for him. Daniel would never tell the woman that he knew
most of the young ladies she mentioned. He would never admit to her
that they were less than respectable, or tell her how many had
shared his own bed, along with half the men in Mayfield.

Louise spoke often of Julia, as well. She
told him how beautiful her daughter was and how she would make a
wonderful wife and mother to some lucky, deserving young man - as
if he had never heard that line before. She admitted she really
couldn't describe her daughter in perfect detail for him, since she
had seen her only twice in the past five years. A tragedy involving
her best friend had torn Julia’s life a part; driving her from her
home and family. Daniel began to wonder if the event Victor had
mentioned was more of a love triangle, then an unwanted or
unreturned liaison.

The woman went on to say she had asked her
younger sister if she might take Julia in for a while. She had
intended for Julia to remain in Boston long enough to finish out
her senior year of school and then return home. But much to her
mother’s disappointment, Julia refused to come back to Kentucky.
She accepted a position her Aunt Lena offered her and became the
family's nanny.

Apart from the few differences, both Victor
and Louise described the same traits in their children; it sounded
as though Daniel would soon be meeting a set of Siamese twins. He
didn't know whether they would be receptive, or resentful toward
him. He wasn't even sure what they looked like, although he could
imagine both had dark hair, a trait shared between their parents.
He imagined both were stubborn, conceited, arrogant and vain due to
their lavish upbringing and money. He only hoped they didn't remain
in Kentucky long enough to cause trouble.

The noise of hooves brought Daniel out of
his stupor in time to witness Rally Overton - the stable's foreman
- hurrying his stallion in his direction. Daniel estimated the man
to be at least twenty years his senior, making him close to fifty
years old, if not more. Overton’s skin was dark brown from the many
years in the sun, skinny and short in stature, as well as being an
illiterate who never desired to alter his circumstances. He may not
have been able to read or write, but he was damned good at reading
the land and animals around him. He could tell when a mare was
going to give birth and when the ground was too cold to let the
horses out to graze, even if it felt warm to the rider.

“
Mr. Brownin’," the man
shouted, pulling his horse to a halt next to Daniel's. "We've got a
problem." That was nearly how every sentence the man began started.
There was always a
problem
, even if it was nothing more
than a cat having a litter of kittens behind the
woodpile.

"What is it Mr. Overton?" Daniel asked with
a sigh

"One a the mare's is real sick. I think its
colic, but I ain't fer certain sure. We found some moldy feed in
the back o’ one o’ the stalls, but I ain't for certain sure, how it
got there."

"Have you told Mr. Turner about this?"
Daniel had been overseeing the stables for Victor since he helped
the man draw up his first will four years ago. They had developed
an instant liking for each other, as well as a deep respect for the
other's intellect concerning well-bread horseflesh. Victor offered
to sell Daniel his prize stallion, Roustabout at an almost
obscenely low price. Daniel had been so pleased with his horse - a
hopeful for next year's Beaumont Stakes – he had been willing to
help the old man at the ranch, which he had done nearly every day
for the past three years.

"No sir, I ain't. Do ya think I’s outta?"
Daniel shook his head, aware more than anyone - with the exception
of Louise - just how sick the land's owner really was. To keep the
ranch hands respect and loyalty, he had to help with the charade
that all was normal at the main house.

"I think we can take care of it ourselves.
I'll tell him after supper. By then we'll have it all under
control." Daniel and Overton hurried back to the stables, plotting
the cure and cause of the moldy feed.

Several strange things had occurred lately,
but there were too many contradictory reports to point a finger at
just one person. The only thing everyone agreed on, was the dark
haired woman seen riding off the day they found three dead horses.
Nobody knew who she was or where she came from and she rode too
fast and knew the terrain too well to find. Even with Roustabout,
they couldn't catch her.

Hopefully they would be able to discourage
anything more serious from happening in the future, or from causing
trouble at the annual fall sales. Daniel feared for Victor's health
and feared too that he would demand helping them find the culprit
behind the accidents. He not only had to protect the old man from
an early grave, but he had to make certain the stables didn't
suffer from these strange events. A little bad publicity could
cause a huge ripple in the gossip chain and the stables would
suffer the consequences.

Until Julia and Jeremy Turner returned home,
it was Daniel's responsibility to keep things under control, and
out of respect for the old man, he vowed to do just that. He didn't
give a damn what the Turner brats had to say about it. If it was a
fight they wanted, he would be prepared for it!

The peak of the dark brown roof rose above
the towering trees, as the hack pulled up the dirt road leading
home. The ranch style windows with their diamond framed panes,
shined like rare gems in the setting sun. A warm breeze blew across
the fields and stables, bringing with it the familiar odors of a
horse ranch. The coachman continued on his journey with a snort of
disapproval. It was a scent Julia had once thought she'd never be
able to wash off her skin; the scent was pure home and she found
herself inhaling deeply. Strange how someone could come to miss
something so repugnant as the smell of horse dung and drying
hay.

The door to the large ranch house swung open
and the aging butler - long overdue for retirement - stepped out on
the large wooden veranda as the team of horses pulled to a halt.
His tight curly hair was sparse and silver and showed of a recent
trim; his face seemed a little darker and held several wrinkles
Julia hadn't remembered him having a few years back; yet he was
just as welcoming and friendly as always.

Thompson had been with the Turner family
since before she was born. He had been a bought and paid for slave,
now free and working for a weekly salary. He had the chance to
leave years ago and start a life as a free man, but chose instead
to stay on at the ranch. He was a loyal employee and a good friend.
Never in all the time Julia had known him, did he miss a day’s
work; much to her father's constant complaints. It was odd how two
people, who never appeared to get along, became as dependent on
each other as Thompson and Victor Turner were.

Julia watched the old man accept her luggage
from the driver, who quickly unloaded her belongings from the top
of the coach. He was anxious to leave the smells of the farm behind
as the haste in his actions revealed. Julia paid him promptly,
included a generous tip and then turned towards the woman walking
down the steps behind her.

Her dark hair, though streaked with strands
of silver, matched Julia's in length and texture. The midnight blue
of her eyes shined her pleasure, yet her features were pale and
drawn making her appear much older than her fifty-two years. It was
obvious there was more behind Julia's urgent homecoming than she
had been led to believe.

The return home to Turner Stables was
prompted by a telegram from Louise who had pleaded with her
daughter to return to Kentucky, telling her only that her father
was very ill and she was needed. The facts were hard to accept,
since her father had been sick only twice in his life as she
recalled. That with the fact that her mother was prone to
exaggerate, led Julia to believe all was fine. Now, as she stood
watching the older woman, seeing the fatigue and exhaustion etched
on her delicate features, she realized there was much more here
than what had been revealed in the brief explanation.

"Julia, darling, welcome home. How was your
trip?" Louise hugged her daughter's slender frame against her,
wrapping her arms around her so tightly Julia was certain she'd
choke the breath from her.

"It was fine, long but good. How's father?"
she asked, pulling away.

"He's resting right now, but you can see him
in a little while. Let's get you settled in, and get some dinner
into you. You look as though you haven't had a square meal in well
over a year. Hasn't your Aunt Lena been feeding you?"

Julia and her mother followed close behind
Thompson who walked up the steps and into the spacious, well cared
for mansion. She looked around the entry as she removed her dark
red and black hat and gloves.

The front hall was just as impeccable as
always, etched in varnished oak with a matching light brown carpet.
The stairs that faced the door wound around to the top floor,
encircled in an oak banister that brought back many memories of
little children sliding and racing down them. It had been five
years since Julia was last here, yet everything remained exactly as
when she left, making her homecoming feel stale; it was as if she
had never left.

"I want to know about father's condition,"
she insisted, receiving an urgent look from her mother, as she
glanced towards the dark man who stood by the stairs with the
luggage. It didn't seem unlikely that Thompson wasn't aware of the
situation or her father's illness, yet Louise acted as though she
really couldn't speak freely in front of him.