Willow Smoke (54 page)

Daisy
laughed
softly.
“He’s
older,
but
he’s
a
gentle
man.
He’s...”
Daisy
caught
herself.
She
wasn’t
about
to
share
much information
about
Nick
with
her
sister.

She
might
have
shared
a
few
tears
with
her
on
the couch, but that didn’t mean she
could
trust
Maxine
not
to
blab
everything
to Reggie.
“He’s
a
nice
man
for
the
time
being, but I don’t expect it to last much
longer.”

“I’m
not
surprised,”
Maxine
replied, placing
a
comforting
hand
on
Daisy’s.
“He
doesn’t
look
like
he’d
have
much
in
common
with
us.”

Stiffening, Daisy tried
to calm her
irritation.
“We have
horses in common, that’s
enough.”

“Yes,
I
suppose.
I
still
don’t
know
how
you’re
able
to
work
with
those
beasts,
but
that’s
not
news.”
Maxine
hesitated.
“Well,
if
you’ll
write
that check, I’d best be
going.
Reggie
gets
antsy
if
I’m
gone
too
long.”

“What
would
it
ever
take
for
you
to
call
the
cops
on
him?”

Maxine
moved
gingerly
to
stand
and
laughed.
“You
got
to
be
kidding,
baby.
You
don’t
turn
on
the
man
you
love.
Not
for
nothin’.”

Daisy
wrote
the
check
at
her
makeshift
dining
room
desk.
She
clinched
her
upper
body
to
slow
the
shivering.
How
would
Nick
ever
understand
this
world?
She’d
been
raised
in
it
and
still
couldn’t
fathom
how
her mother
had accepted her lot in
life,
or
how
her
sister
was
managing
hers.

She
stared
at
the
check.
Their
grandmother
had
been
so
emphatic
about
blood
being
thicker
than
water,
but
did
that
mean
Daisy
had
to
allow
her
sister
and
brother-in-law
to
suck
her
dry?

- o -

Tom
Harrison
clapped
his
hands.
“So
you
got
her
working
with
wood?
That’s
good.”
He
admired
the
diamond
willow
stick
Daisy
was
carving.

She
sat
on
a
straight-back
chair
in
the
mold
room
with
the
willow
stick
in
her
hands.
She’d
already
peeled
half
its
bark
and was
digging
at
the
grooves
of
a
troublesome
knot.
Several
shades
of
reddish
brown
were
already
evident.

Daisy
smiled
at
the
tall
black
man.
“I
think
your job is safe. This is a lot of
painstaking
work.”

“It
takes
getting
used
to.
But
I
can
tell
you
have
a
good
ear
for
wood.”

She
looked
up,
inquiring.

“You
don’t
hack
at
the
wood.
You’re
letting
the
wood
guide
you.
How
far
or
how
deep
to
peel
or
dig.
Which
grain
to
highlight
and
which
to
let
be.
It’s
all
in
the
manner
of
listening.
Some
people
have
a
good
ear
for
music.
Some
have
a
good
ear
for
animals.
Some
have
a
good
ear
for
wood.”

“Daisy’s got a good ear
for horses, that’s
for
sure,” Nick
interjected, stepping over
from
where
he’d
been
examining
work
on
the
frame
for
a
new
canoe.
“And
you
may
be
right.
It
looks
like
she
can
listen
to
wood
pretty
good,
too.”

“So
how
do
you
like
mosquitoes,
Daisy?
Do
you
understand
why
they’re
Minnesota’s
state
bird?”

“I
could
do
without
another
mosquito
for
a
few
weeks,”
Daisy
said,
idly
rubbing
old
bites on her arm. “Though sometimes I
think the worst part about them is the bug spray.”

“What
you
gonna
do
with
the
stick
when
you’re
done
with
it?”
Tom
asked,
rubbing
a
finger
over
a
carved
section.
“This
will
sand
out
real
nice.
Some
folks
don’t
want
to sand—they think it looks better rough.
I’m
partial
to
sanding.
How
about
you?”

A
smile
tugged
at
Daisy’s
lips.
“I’ll
try sanding
this
one
and
then
I’ll
have
something
to
compare
a
rough-carved
one
to.
I
sure
do
like
how
your
sanded
canoe
strips
turn
out.
The
one
we
took
to
the
Boundary
Waters
was
even
more
beautiful
in
the
water than sitting here. The first time I
sat in
it I felt the kind of awe I
feel when I sit in a church pew. Not that I’ve sat in one of those often.”

“Maybe
that’s
why
it’s
still
awe
inspiring.
You
didn’t
say
what
you
plan
on
doing
with
it?”
Tom
pointed.
“The
stick.”

Daisy
shrugged.
“Probably
put
it
in
the
corner
of my living room for
decoration.
Don’t
think
I
need
a
walking
stick
yet.”

Tom
sneaked
a
peek
at
Nick.

“Don’t
even
think
about
going
there,”
Nick
growled.

“How’s
MrShowman
coming
along?
Haven’t
had
time
to get out to the track this
week
to
see
him.”

“I
know.”
Daisy
curled
her
toes
in
the
Lake
Michigan
beach
sand
where
she
and
Nick
had
shared
their
picnic
lunch.
Their recent
claiming
horse
had
looked
quite
good
in
his
early
morning
workouts.

She
didn’t
plan
to
tell
Nick
she’d
appreciated
the
breather
his
business
trip
had
provided.
While
she
liked
Nick
a
lot,
she
valued
her
space
and
her
privacy.

Sometimes
he
could
be
too
overpowering
and,
well, just too
present. “MrShowman
is
training
quite
nicely.
We’ll
try
him
in
a
Starter’s
Allowance
or
an
Optional
Claimer
in
the
next
week
or
two.
Preferably
on
the
grass.”

“At a route, right?”

“That’s
the
plan.”
Daisy
sucked
in
a
deep
breath
of cool air. “I like it here
by the
lake,”
she
said,
staring
off
across
the
expansive
body
of
water.
The
sand
dune
point
on
which
they
sat
was
protected
from
the westerly breeze. Remnants
of their
lunch
still
lay
scattered
on
the
blanket.
A
few
late
hanging-on
ants
were
having
a
feast.

“Clint
called
last
night.
About
Keeneland.”

Daisy
leaned
back
on
her
hands
and
looked
up
at
Nick
sitting
cross-legged
beside
her;
his
attention
seemed
concentrated
on
a
speck
out
on
the
horizon,
but
she
wasn’t
fooled.
His
sensors
were
monitoring her
reactions
very
closely.
“So
are
you
going
to
the
sale?”
she
asked.

“We
all
are.
Cassie,
Clint,
you,
me.”

Sitting
up
straight,
Daisy
busied
herself
scraping
sand
from
between
her
toes.
“What
do
you
mean?
Sam
needs
me
here.
I
can’t
keep
taking
time
off
and
traipsing across the country after you.”

“You’ll
be
earning
your
pay.
Sam
wants
you
to
help
represent
his
interests.
He’ll
pick
up
ten
percent
of
whatever
I
buy,
and
you’ll
get
twenty.”

Daisy
jerked
to
her
knees
and
yelled,
“Why
do
you
keep
doing
this
to
me?”
She
dropped
her
voice.
“Making
decisions
on
my
behalf.
Giving
me
parts
of
horses
that
are
far
too
expensive
for
me.
How
do
you
know
I
want
all
that
responsibility?
That
I’d
even
want
to
go
to
Keeneland?
That
can
be a snooty crowd, from what I hear.”

“Actually,
the
fall
sale
is
more
like
a
fair
atmosphere,
not
nearly
like
the
dress
up
ball
of
the
spring
and
summer
sales.
At
least
that’s
what
Cassie
said.
She
seems
to
think
it
would
do
you
good
to
see
first
h
and
the
next
level
of
the
business.”

“Am
I
being
ganged
up
on?
Why
does
everyone
think
they
know
what
is
good
for
me?”

“No
one
wants
you
to
do
anything
you
don’t
want
to
do.”
Nick
sighed
and
picked
up
a
handful
of
sand
and
sifted
it
through
his
fingers.
“If
you
don’t
want
to
go,
you
don’t
have
to.
I
thought
you’d
enjoy
being
away
and
spending
time
with
me
and
Clint
and
Cassie.”

Daisy
flopped
back
down
on
the
blanket
and
squeezed
her
eyes
shut.
“It’s
not
that
I
don’t
want
to
go.
I
just
wish
someone
had
asked
me
before
deciding
I
would
of
course
tag
along.”

“I’m
sorry.”
Nick
ran
his
fingers
along
her
bare leg. “Sometimes I presume
too
much
and
act
too
quickly.
You’re
right,
I
should
have
asked
first.”

She
groaned
at
his
downcast
look
of
contrition.
Would he ever learn to treat
her as
an
equal?
She
couldn’t
escape,
however,
the
pure
adoration
on
his
face,
nor
the
vibrations
caused
by
his
fingers
moving
lazily
along
her
thigh.

“So,
will
you
consent
to
come
with
me
to
Keeneland,
young
lady?
I’m
afraid
it
would
be
quite
boring
without
you.
And
I
might
wind
up
buying
a
three-legged
horse.”

Was
she
becoming
addicted
to
his
mesmerizing
ways?
She
laced
her
fingers
through his and drew them upward,
resetting
them
where
she
desired
them
most.
Could
he
feel
her
heat
through
the
fabric of
her
shorts?
“I
think
Cassie
and
Clint
would
make
sure
the
horse
had
four
good
legs.”
She
wiggled
her
fingers
and
in
doing
so
also
his;
a
soft
moan
emitted
from
her
pursed
lips.
“But
I
would
miss
you.
And
I
wouldn’t
want
you
casting
about
for
my
replacement.
How
long
will
we
be
gone?”

“No
need
to
worry
about
replacements.
I’ll wear
out
before
you
do.”
He
cocked
his
head.