however, she’d rather spend the morning tweaking her business plan and schmoozing with potential clients, not escorting Grace on a random tour of the area with the uneasy feeling that there was more to her visit than she’d let on so far. Her grandmother’s stern profile provided no hints, even after she stared at Belinda’s mismatched socks before she could stuff her feet into the boots.
Belinda led Grace to the golf cart that she drove to get around the property quickly. “Hold on,” she said. It was an unnecessary warning, since her grandmother had death grips on her arm and the side of the golf cart. She drove slowly down the road that led from the barn to the larger area dedicated to the riding rings and stable.
“Have you ever considered selling off some of the property?”
“No!” Belinda uttered a shaky, apologetic laugh and repeated the negative in a softened tone.
“It’s not an outrageous question.”
They’d stopped at the stable. Belinda rounded the cart to assist Grace.
“I’m asking because you have ambitions that don’t match your pocket.” Grace stopped short at the large wooden doors that led into the stables. Her nose twitched as the signature ammonia smell of horse and hay hit them.
Through these doors was magic, the place that brought Belinda peace and joy. She headed over to the stall that was home to her American quarter horse. From the start, Lucky Ducky, her own personal mount, had held a special place in her heart. When she was first looking for horses for the program, her network of business owners with similar equine-therapy services advised her that the retired show horse was up for sale. While she’d need therapy horses for now, she wanted her own horse. It was this gelding’s gentle nature and agility that convinced her that she was on the right path with her decision to acquire a member of this breed.
Grace joined her at Lucky Ducky’s stall. “Are you a bit over your head with this monster-size project?”
“I can manage. I’ve been managing.” Belinda hoped that she’d retained a knack for reading her grandmother’s trains of thought. Although, sometimes, she wasn’t sure that she ever had the ability and only had mastered feeling defensive.
From her pocket, Grace withdrew sugar cubes, which she fed to the grateful horse. Despite her grandmother’s reaction to the stable, she was a wet noodle around the chestnut gelding. Belinda wished she could take a secret photo of her grandmother making kissing noises. Lucky Ducky certainly loved Grace’s attention. His head bumped against her hand to make her continue scratching his muzzle.
“Why are we here...in the barn?” Belinda walked over to a new horse that she’d bought two weeks ago. She’d rather have waited on buying another horse, but, by acquiring him, she had rescued a pet that the owner could no longer afford to keep. She grabbed a brush and stroked Black Pearl’s powerful side with it. His head bobbed as he pranced in place.
“We needed to talk. And since you don’t have a proper office...” Grace pointedly looked over at her. “We must stand out here for privacy.”
No matter how much Grace worked Belinda’s nerves, being disrespectful was never an option. “No, we don’t have to, Grandma. Let’s go up to the house. I have tea.”
“Okay, for the house. No, on the tea.”
“It’s not the regular supermarket tea.” Belinda offered Grace a hint of a smile. “Herbal. Rooibos from South Africa.”
Grace clapped her hands. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.” She bid farewell to Lucky Ducky with an extra sugar cube and accompanied Belinda out of the stable.
Her grandmother resumed her death grip as they rode the golf cart eastward across the property.
On a small hill, the farmhouse stood out, its exterior painted in sunshine yellow accented with winter-white shutters. The morning sunrise was an amazing sight that climbed above the mountains in the distance.
Belinda gazed on her little home with pride. Well, it wasn’t so little, with five bedrooms ranging from a closet-size one to the master suite. Though many of the rooms were unused, here was the house for her future. One day, she wanted it full of children and a loving husband.
Given her lack of a social life, however, said loving husband would have to magically fall from the sky in front of her like an airdrop package.
“Have a seat. I’ll bring it to you.” Belinda motioned toward the living area before walking into the kitchen.
“No need to wait on me. I’ll follow you to your kitchen.”
Belinda hoped that the kitchen wasn’t a mess. The bad part about living alone was that any messiness could only be blamed on her. She cringed as she watched her grandmother swing her survey around the room before she took a seat at the four-seater table.
“You haven’t been to visit, much less sit in my kitchen, in a while. I’m nervous.” Belinda couldn’t deal with waiting for Grace to reveal the reason for her impromptu visit. There was no way that this was a casual visit.
“I’ve been remiss with keeping up with my grandchildren. Turning over Meadows Media to Dana was a bigger deal than I thought. It made me think about all of you. Our legacy as a family.”
“Dana’s doing fine, right?”
“Oh, yes. Dana was born for that job.”
“Proud of her.” Belinda always knew that her cousin was the only one to step into Grace’s shoes. Her mother and aunts, Grace’s daughters, grumbled a bit, but no one could deny that Dana had the brains and passion to take up the heavy responsibility.
“We all are. Meadows Media should always remain in the family.”
Belinda carefully set down the steaming cup of tea. “I’m not coming to work for Meadows Media.” For once, she wasn’t backing down. Not even to look away from Grace’s deep-set eyes.
“Not even for Dana?”
“Did she ask for me?” Belinda wasn’t biting, though the mention of her cousin needing her gave her pause.
“You know your cousin. She’d never ask for help. She’s too afraid that it would reflect on her. However, since stepping back from it all, I have a good view from the sidelines. What I see, in my overall vision, is for all of you cousins stepping up and taking your rightful places in the company. Making it bigger and better. Besides, you get along with each other. That’s half the battle.”
“What if the cousins aren’t interested?”
“Why wouldn’t you be? I built this company to hand down, not to sell out. Not that my three daughters ever stepped up to the plate.” Grace sniffed. The woman was a born queen and didn’t need a title to go with her mostly formidable demeanor. The one subject that could tighten that mouth and send the lines in her forehead into deeper grooves was her daughters—their mothers.
Away from the Meadows family home estate, away from the Meadows Media headquarters, Belinda had never heard Grace open up with such a sad, longing commentary. Took a visit, while sitting at her dining table, for the intimate disclosure. Anytime Grace’s tale was told in front of an audience, the rags to riches story had all the polish and shiny glint of a spin doctor’s
