KENTUCKY RICH Lexington, Virgina The two brothers watched from the window, their eyes wide and curious as a stretch limousine glided to a stop in the middle of the gravel driveway. Their jaws dropped in awe when the driver opened the door for the passenger. A slender woman dressed in boots, well cut jeans and white shirt emerged and looked around. A sun darkened hand adjusted the dark glasses before she tipped the brim of a pearly white Stetson riding on top of a mound of thick blonde hair. Finally, after thirty long years, she was home, standing on Coleman land. "Who the hell is it?" Rhy Coleman demanded of his brother Pyne. "How the hell should I know? She's coming up to the porch. I think you should open the door, Rhy." When his older brother made no move to open the door, Pyne walked toward the door just as it opened. She blew in like a gust of wind, ignoring both men as she strode toward the wide stairway leading to the second floor. "Just a damn minute," Rhy shouted. "Who the hell are you to walk in here like you own the place?" "I do own it, Rhy. At least a third of it. Don't you recognize me, big brother?" "Nealy! Is it really you?" Pyne said, his eyes wide with shock. "In the flesh, little brother. Where is he?" Pyne's head jerked upwards. Nealy nodded. "Stay here. This is between me and him. I don't want either one of you interfering. Do you understand me?" When there was no response, Nealy repeated her question. Both men nodded. She'd climbed these steps a hundred times, maybe a thousand, when she was a chid. Usually to run and hide so she could whimper in safety. At the top she stopped, turned around and looked down at her brothers. "Go about your business while I take care of mine." She hurled the words at them remembering another day when they'd stood in the same spot watching her. She waited until they walked away before she made her way down the hall to her father's room. The room was large and Spartan with ineffective lighting. It was gray and dim and smelled of sickness and mold. Still, she could see him under the mound of blankets. Her father. The man who had banished her from this very house thirty years ago. She tried to compute her father's age but gave up because she simply didn't care. Nealy Coleman felt her back stiffen when she sensed rather than heard the door open behind her. One of her brothers. Damn, didn't they know how to obey an order. She clenched her teeth when a frail voice demanded to know who was there. She took a step closer and heard a step follow her. Which one of her brothers had come into the room? Rye? More likely Pyne. Pyne was the one who cared about things, about people. Rye was a bitter, angry man like her father. "It's Nealy, Pa." The voice was stronger when he spoke a second time. "There ain't nothin' here for you, girl. Go back where you came from and take that drooling dimwit with you. You don't belong here." "I don't want anything, Pa," Nealy said looking down at the load of quilts on the bed. They looked dirty. Maybe they were clean and it was the lighting. She pushed the pearly, white Stetson further back on her head. She wanted to be able to clearly see the dying man in the bed and she didn't want any shadows over her eyes. "Then what are you here for?" Nealy felt a hand on her shoulder. So it was Pyne who had come into the room. The hand on her shoulder meant she was to take it easy. Like hell. She'd waited thirty years for this moment and neither Pyne nor Rye were going to take it away from her. She shrugged off her brother's hand. "I came here to watch you die, old man. I'm not leaving until I hear you draw your last breath. I want to see them dump you in the ground and cover you up. I want to make sure you're gone forever. After I dance on your grave and only then, will I leave. Do you hear me, old man?" "Get out of my house!" "I told you, old man, I came here to see you die. I'm not leaving until you go to hell. That's where you're going, Pa." "Rye! Pyne! Come in here. Take this devil child away from me. Do you hear me?" the old man gasped, his voice barely audible. Nealy felt her brother's hand on her shoulder again. She shrugged it off a second time. "I'd like to see them try," Nealy said bitterly. The old man continued to gurgle and gasp as he thrashed about in the big bed. Nealy watched him with clinical interest. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the drool leaking from his mouth. God did work in mysterious ways, she thought as she remembered the day her father told her to take her drooling dimwitted child and never darken his door again. Spawn of the devil was what he'd called Emma. She waited as she inched closer to the bed. He was quiet now but his watery eyes were fixed on her as he, too, waited for whatever was coming next. She pulled over a straight back chair with her booted foot and sat down next to the bed. She stared with unblinking intensity at the man in the bed who finally closed his eyes in resignation. "Okay, he's asleep now. What the hell are you doing here, Nealy? We didn't hear from you for thirty years and all of a sudden you show up just as Pa is getting ready to die. How did you know? Why are you here? Can't you let him die in peace?" "No, I can't let him die in peace. He has to pay for what he did to me and Emmie. I made it my business to know everything that has gone on here for the last thirty years. A day didn't go by that I didn't think about that old man or this place. You know why I'm here. And, I want Emmie's share of this place. Is there anything else you want to know, Pyne?" "What share are you talking about, Nealy? Pa refused to make a will. There is no estate planning in place. Neither Rye nor I have Power of Attorney. The government is going to take it all. Whatever is left will be a piss in the bucket. You know how Pa was." "We'll just see about that. I will never understand why the two of you are so gutless where he's concerned. Get your lawyers here, now today. Pay them whatever it takes. We can get it all into place. As long as he's still breathing, you have a chance. It's not for me, Pyne. My daughter has a right to expect her share. Now, get on it! That's an order, Pyne. Don't screw up now or you'll be out on the highway along with your brother. Bring me some paper and some pens. Do it, Pyne. There's nothing he can do to you now. Don't you understand that?" Pyne Coleman stared down at his younger sister. After all these years she was still pretty with all her golden curls and bright blue eyes. Still a take charge person. She also looked fit and expensive. Once when they were little he'd told her she looked like an angel. She'd laughed and laughed. Back then they had been close out of necessity. It was all so long ago. Yet, here she was, thirty years later, issuing orders like a general. Nealy suffered through her brother's scrutiny wondering what he was thinking. She was about to ask when Rye stuck his head in the door and hissed, "You better come downstairs, Pyne, there's a whole gaggle of people outside. They said they were relatives. Family they said. I didn't know we had a family. Do you know anything about this, Pyne?" "I know a lot about it. We got us a rip-roaring family, Rye. Pa told me about them about a month ago, right before he had his stroke. They've been here before but Pa didn't tell us. Said the one named Fanny came twice. Come welcome them, Nealy, while I follow your instructions. Nealy leaned over the side of the bed so she could hear her father's ragged breathing. Satisfied he was still alive, she followed her brothers down the stairs, uncertain what to expect. A family. How could that be? The people on the right are Pa's brother Seth's family from Texas. The ones on the left are Pa's sister Sallie's family. They're from Las Vegas, Nevada. We got us a big family now, Nealy. Now, what do you have to say . . . ." Back to Chapter One Main Page newsflash / biography / bookshelf / contest my latest / complete list / my favorites / my suggestions chapter one / series list / my publisher / my blog / site map / contact Copyright ©1997-2008 by First Draft, Inc. All rights reserved.