Читать книгу The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers - Cynthia Thomason, Cynthia Thomason - Страница 13
ОглавлениеLIFE WAS FILLED with too many bittersweet moments. That was how Jude felt almost every day. Those moments happened when she visited her mother and remembered when Maggie Foster was vibrant and brilliant and loving. Or when she waved her sister Alexis off in a limousine to begin her honeymoon. Or when she thought of Paul, as she so often did, in so many ways. The freshest of the bittersweets occurred Monday morning as she shared a last cup of coffee with her sister Carrie before the airport shuttle came to get her.
“Don’t forget to take your meds,” Jude said. “I saw Dad stuffing your duffel with them this morning.”
“I won’t forget.” Carrie smiled over the rim of her mug. “Does everyone in my family think I enjoy having asthma?”
Jude chuckled. “Point taken.”
“Now, let’s get back to the subject of Liam Manning.”
“What do you want to say about Liam?”
“He’s gorgeous. How’s that for a start?”
“He’s decent looking, I’ll agree with that. But I’m not interested in him, gorgeous or otherwise.”
“So why are you so upset that he might not show up at the barn today?”
“Upset? I’m not upset.” Jude had confided in her sister this morning about the possibility of Liam coming out to the farm. Jude didn’t believe he would and had admitted this to Carrie. Since leaving the reception on Saturday night, she’d tried to put the entire incident out of her mind. Meeting someone on a starstruck night of love and having it actually materialize into something was not Jude O’Leary luck.
“Besides,” Jude said. “He was just being polite at the wedding. Dad coerced him into asking me to dance, and I guess small talk was a part of the deal.”
“But he said he was interested in your charities,” Carrie reminded her.
“I can’t believe that’s true. Oh, here, Liam. Here are my goats. Aren’t they adorable?” Jude mimicked her own voice. “Come on, Carrie, any interest he may have shown was just small talk.”
“All right. Maybe he’s not interested in your charities,” Carrie said, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe his interest has everything to do with you.”
Jude snorted, one of her unladylike habits. “Care Bear, be reasonable. If Liam wanted to date a Foster girl, he’d sure as heck pick you. Cute, petite, soft-spoken and smart. You’d be Liam’s dream girl.”
“According to who?” Carrie said. “He never even spoke to me at the wedding.”
“Because, unlike me, you were never lacking a dance partner! The poor man never had a chance to whisk you onto the floor.”
“I’ll bet he shows up,” Carrie said. “And just in case, I think you should put on a bit of makeup...” She held up her hand as if she believed Jude were going to protest the notion. “Not a lot, just a touch. A little blush, some eye shadow.”
Jude leaned back in her chair and threw her hands up. “Will you look at me for once, Carrie? I mean really look! I wear makeup. I have some on now, and you can’t even tell.”
Carrie tried to appear guilty. As usual, the expression came across as Care Bear cute. “Oh. Now I see it. Maybe a little more blush...”
“I am not going to any fuss for a man who’s not going to show,” Jude said.
“Okay, have it your way. Be stubborn and negative and don’t take advantage of this opportunity if it should happen today.”
“I’m not stupid, Carrie. Even I recognize that Liam is a good-looking guy with a lot going for him. If he comes by, I’ll try to be all girly and sweet.”
“And phony.”
Jude rolled her eyes. Pleasing Carrie was not easy.
“Just be yourself, Jude. That’s the person he talked to at the wedding.” Carrie got up and looked out the kitchen window. “The shuttle is coming up the drive, so I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight. Let me know if you hear from the honeymooners.”
Carrie slung her duffel over one shoulder, her purse over the other, and picked up her suitcase.
“Let me carry those things for you,” Jude said.
“Stop it! I can manage my own things. Quit babying me, Jude. And get a life, will you? I worry about you. Try some positive thinking for a change, and good things will happen.”
“I suppose you know of a magic potion for that, don’t you, Carrie, or a crystal I can wear around my neck?”
Carrie fingered her own good luck talisman around her neck. “You’re impossible. Why do I even try?”
Jude hugged her sister over all her gear. “Don’t worry about me, sis. I’ve got everything I want out at that barn with my cozy apartment above just right for me and Wes.”
“You live with horses and noise, and...”
“You’re wrong, Carrie. I live in peace and solitude. Remember when we had a full-time groom in that apartment? We had six horses. Now we have three and taking care of them is a piece of cake. My life is full. The only thing that would make it more perfect is if I’d have you here for more than a few days at a time.”
Carrie leaned back and stared into her sister’s eyes. “And Liam Manning. He might make it more perfect.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not where you’re concerned.” Carrie gave her sister one last smile. “Take care of yourself. Talk to you tonight.”
The shuttle taking Carrie to the Cleveland airport was soon just a cloud of dust. Jude missed her already. Less than two years apart in age, they’d always been close. Jude couldn’t imagine her life if Carrie weren’t in it. So, yes, of course she worried.
She took the mugs to the sink, rinsed them out and decided she’d go up and visit her mother for a few minutes. Then she’d head back to the barn where she was comfortable.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers and the familiar smells of hay and leather and the tasks and nonhuman company would surround her whether Liam Manning showed up or not. Most days, that was all the positive thinking she needed to get her through.
* * *
JUDE KNEW RIGHT away that the BMW coming up the drive had to belong to Liam. It was a corporate-looking car and it only made sense that it was owned by a corporate-looking guy. She wondered if he would park next to her pickup or leave some space so his shiny sedan wouldn’t be inflicted with old Dodge Ram barnyard dust.
She leaned on the rake she’d been using to spread chicken feed and waited for him to get out of the car. He’d actually shown up. If Carrie were still here, she’d be gloating big-time. And he’d even remembered her fashion advice and had on a pair of jeans. Despite the denims having a “just pressed” look, at least they were barn appropriate. His close-fitting, long-sleeved T-shirt was a common Pittsburgh Steelers variety, faded from washing. His sandy hair, unencumbered by a ball cap like hers was, was neatly combed, proving that the executive still existed alongside the cowboy.
She took off her cap and squinted into the sun. “Well, well, look who’s here. Did you bring a hammer?”
He came toward her. “In the trunk. You’ll have to show me how to use it.”
She harrumphed before tossing her cap to a nearby bench and flicking her braid over her shoulder to stream down her back. Untamed wisps of curls swept around her face as usual. Jude figured she looked okay. She wasn’t a complete fashion dolt. She bought denims that fit, shirts that hugged in the right places and tucked into her twenty-four-inch waistband without a struggle. And from the way Liam was looking at her, maybe he thought she looked okay, too.
“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” she asked.
His answer was lost in a riot of barking as Mutt, the family dog, raced from the barn and ran directly toward Liam. Jude expected her guest to run back to the safety of his Beemer. Mutt was a large, furry, Bernese mountain dog, a rescue who was so grateful for two squares a day and a comfy spot at the foot of Jude’s bed that he loved everyone. But Liam wouldn’t know that.
“He won’t hurt...” Jude started to explain. But Liam was down on one knee, his fingers scrunched into the layers of fur around Mutt’s face. Mutt lapped his chin with his scratchy tongue.
“Friendly dog,” Liam said, standing again and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Almost too friendly,” Jude said. “Sorry about that.”
“I like dogs. It’s okay.”
Jude wasn’t sure that Liam liked big, sloppy, licking dogs, but to his credit, he was handling the situation. “How do you feel about goats?” she asked.
“Goats? Can’t say that I’ve ever sorted through my feelings about goats.”
Jude snapped her fingers and pointed to the side of the barn. “Mutt...goats! Goats!”
The Bernese trotted off gleefully around the corner of the barn. A minute later the Dancing Falls goat herd appeared in all its braying, furry splendor. Two dozen of them. At least half tried to get a curious sniff of the newcomer.
“I trained Mutt to open the latch that releases the goats.”
Liam frowned. “Did you also train him to put them back again?”
She laughed. “No. That’s my son Wesley’s job.” She handed Liam a bucket filled with feed and carried two buckets herself to a pair of troughs. “Feeding time. Most of these guys will walk around the yard and nibble at leaves and grass, but my vet concocts this pellet food to add bulk. Just dump your feed into the bin.”
He did and seemed grateful that lunch distracted the beasts from making a meal of a guy in creased jeans. She had to give the man credit. He was trying to fit in, though his heart wasn’t in it.
“Are the goats a permanent fixture at Dancing Falls?” he asked.
“Nope. They are temporary. This is just a stopover until they reach their new destinations.”
“Which is where?”
“Central America, most likely. The goats are part of the foundation. I got the entire herd about three months ago from a farmer out in Bees Creek Township. He’d been raising the goats for their milk and to use in petting zoos, but he hadn’t figured that a few goats would cost so much to maintain. He couldn’t pay the feed bills to keep the herd healthy, so he applied to the foundation for assistance.”
“And the goats all ended up here?”
“They did. Actually I didn’t trust the farmer to keep them healthy, and I figured I was much better equipped to deal with them. Dancing Falls was a good choice. We have pasture land here for them to roam.”
“You haven’t found someone else to care for them?” Liam asked.
“I haven’t tried. I did some research and discovered a charitable organization in Central America that provides goats to families in need. Most of these goats are milk goats. Just one can keep a family in dairy products for a long time. With my plan, I’m helping the goats as well as people who need it.”
“So, why have the goats been here three months? Shouldn’t they be on their way to Central America where they’ll do some good?”
“I’m fattening them up. Some of them were in bad shape when they came here. Hoof disease, ribs showing. But they’re healthy now. A good dairy goat gives sixteen cups of milk a day, and as soon as they’re completely healthy I’m shipping them to Costa Rica probably.”
“But in the meantime, you’re paying the bills to feed and care for them.”
She squinted her eyes at him. “Somebody has to, and the foundation is willing. By the way, you’re out here because you said you might want to donate to one of the foundation’s causes.” She gazed over her herd of hungry goats. “How about this cause? Right now we’re somewhat strapped for cash. As you might imagine, being a whiz kid and all, it costs a lot to keep two dozen goats fat and happy.”
He picked up his feed bucket. “I’ll think about it. Where does this bucket go?”
“In the barn. Why don’t we go inside? You can meet more of the family.”
* * *
TRY AS HE MIGHT, Liam couldn’t manage to feel more than a passing interest in Jude’s goats. They were odd-looking creatures with their sloping foreheads, awkward gait and continuously moving jaws.
Ruminate. He recalled the word from his high school biology class. These animals pulled up roots and plants from the soil, chewed it, swallowed, brought it back up and chewed again. Hardly Liam’s idea of fine dining. At least he’d never eaten goat, and didn’t have to hide any guilt in case Jude asked him if he had.
“We have three horses in here,” Jude said, leading the way down the central aisle of the barn. “They are all offtrack thoroughbreds.”
“You mean racehorses?” Liam said.
“That’s right. My husband loved horses. He was an expert rider, quarter horses mostly, and when I learned of these horses being at risk, I immediately brought them to Dancing Falls. That’s what Paul would have wanted. You can’t imagine their condition when they were brought here.”
She stopped to rub the nose of one large beast. “These horses gave so much when they were in training. It’s a shame that they aren’t rewarded with a nice retirement when they are no longer financially important to their owners.”
Liam didn’t know much about horses. His mother had made him take riding lessons when he was a kid, since so much of this part of northern Ohio was horse country. He’d learned what he’d had to, mastered a few dressage techniques on multi-thousand-dollar animals and considered his education complete. He was surprised by what Jude had just said. He always thought racehorses were put out to pasture and allowed to fill their last days with peace, contentment and a diet of rich green grass and hay.
He walked down the aisle, stopping to look into stalls. “These guys don’t look so bad,” he said.
“Not now. I have a vet tech come out once a week to check their vitals and adjust their feed.”
“That must be expensive.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “Knowing we’re a charity, the tech at least gives me a reduced price.” Jude took a carrot from her pocket and gave it to a horse that had to top sixteen hands. “This guy is twenty-one years old. He probably doesn’t have too long, and he deserves to live out his life in comfort.”
Liam continued to the end of the barn, where a stall was occupied by a large bay. When he approached the horse, the animal reared up on its hind legs and pawed the stall gate. Liam jumped back.
“Don’t go near Titan,” Jude said. “He doesn’t like strangers. Actually he doesn’t like anyone.” She went to the gate and spoke softly to the agitated animal. Slowly the horse calmed but still pawed the ground and whinnied in some sort of equine frustration.
“This animal had suffered the worst case of abuse I’ve come across,” she said. “He was skin and bones when he got here. He’d been whipped and beaten, drugged and hit with electrical charges while he was on the race circuit.”
Jude took another carrot from her pocket and held it for Titan. “Is it any wonder he’s a bit cranky?”
Liam tried to feel for these animals something of the sympathy Jude obviously did. Yes, it was a shame that animals could be treated so cruelly, but the bills for caring for these creatures had to be enormous. Liam thought of Dr. Foster and was reminded that he was here to find ways to cut some of these expenses. “I can’t even imagine what it costs to take care of these animals, Jude,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes again. “That’s the third time you’ve mentioned the cost. You really are a money guy.”
He shrugged.
“But again, to respond to your comment, it’s not cheap. Thank goodness my dad supports my efforts to fund the foundation. He’s our biggest contributor, and he knows how important these causes are to me, how important they would have been to my husband.”
Liam shook his head. If she only knew. Dr. Foster was no doubt a patient, kind man, a good and loving father, but no one who wasn’t a multimillionaire could carry this burden forever.
She turned away from the stall and started back down to the barn opening. She stopped along the way, adjusted tack on the walls, hung a water bucket on a hook for a horse. Each movement was smooth and natural, and not wasted. Jude O’Leary was in her element in this barn. Her plaid shirt was dusted with hay. Her jeans were coated with feed and goat spit. Liam felt out of place, like the quintessential rhinestone cowboy, a phony in clean jeans.
“So, what do you think, Liam?” she asked as they came into the barnyard.
He wanted to say, “I think you’re amazing,” because a big part of him truly believed it. Liam would be reluctant to even take in a stray cat, and here this woman devoted her life to creatures who needed help. He wondered how many hours of her days were spent taking care of these needy animals and how many hours she spent helping other causes. She might not be the most practical woman he’d ever met, but she had to be one of the kindest.
But he was here at her father’s request so Jude’s good works didn’t send the poor doctor into bankruptcy. It shouldn’t matter that Jude’s hair was the color of summer wheat in the sunshine, or that her slim body was muscled and toned from hard work. Liam liked looking at Jude. She had hard angles and soft curves, and she was nothing like the starvation-diet women he saw in the offices in Cleveland or that his mother introduced him to. She might come from money, she might have been raised on Dancing Falls, but there was nothing debutant about Jude. She was pure, unspoiled, raw, in an unembellished-beauty sort of way.
“Do you want to contribute to any of the causes you’ve seen so far?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“I might,” he evaded.
“What do you do, anyway?” she asked. “Are you an accountant?”
“Partly,” he said, knowing she was understating his expertise. “I have a master’s degree in economics, and I currently work for the firm of Baird and Picard, financial planners. I basically monitor trends, study performance graphs, try to separate sound investments from riskier ones.” He paused before her eyes completely glazed over.
“Oh. Maybe you can help me cut some expenses. I’m not much with a pencil and calculator.”
She couldn’t have given him a better opening. “I’d be glad to try,” he said.
“I can’t pay you,” she added.
“No problem. If I can help you, consider that a donation to one of the causes.”
“Sounds fair. I actually do a lot of bartering to keep the foundation going. Thanks.”
A dated Toyota pulled up to the barn and a kid got out. Liam recognized him as Jude’s son, Wesley. Jude gave him a quick hug and waved to the woman driving the car. “Thanks for picking him up at the bus stop, Rosie,” she said.
The Toyota left and Jude gave her son the typical mom attention. “How was school? Did you eat all your lunch?”
“Okay. Yes.” Wesley stared at Liam. “Hey, you were at the wedding, weren’t you?”
“I was. It was quite a party.”
“Yeah, it was cool. What’s your name?”
Liam told him.
They actually chatted about the wedding and some of the guests as if they were old friends. The kid was easy to talk to.
Jude postponed any further conversation when she reminded her son of his chores, “Hey, Wes, you want to round up the goats and put them back in their pen?”
“Can I do it in a minute, Mom? I’d like to show Liam my science project.” He flashed Liam a hopeful grin. “It’s in the house upstairs. Do you want to see it?”
Liam looked to Jude for approval. She shrugged. “Sure. Okay with me.”
They both followed Wesley up the stairs to the family’s living quarters. Liam wondered if the faint smells of the barn would follow them into the house. He was surprised to enter a small but neat home with no earthy odors. He smiled. Of course the windows were closed.