“Hello, Maggie. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
A gust of wind fluttered the pant legs of William Fletcher’s beige gabardine slacks and the sleeves of his blue oxford shirt.”
“Hello, Will.” The same breeze ruffled Maggie’s white silk pantsuit. “You heard about my appointment?”
“Of course.” Will smiled. “Congratulations. No one deserves the position more than you do.”
“They didn’t really expect me to be here for the judging since I only accepted last week, but something came up that needed my attention, so I decided to head west a day early.”
Will laid a protective hand on the petite young woman beside him. “You remember my daughter, Ellie?”
“Of course.”How could she forget? Though Maggie had seen Ellen Fletcher at only a few East Coast competitions, they had met the day before the car accident that had killed Maggie’s husband.
The Fletchers had been in Tampa Bay for the horse show. Afterward, both couples and their children had gone out to dinner. During the evening, Maryann Fletcher, Ellie’s mother, had quietly explained that because of Ellie’s partial blindness their daughter rarely accompanied them on the show jumping circuit, but they’d turned the trip into a vacation of sorts and convinced Ellie and her brother, Tommy, to come along.
That had been a little over four years ago. Ellie had been twenty, a petite yet curvy young lady much shorter than Maggie’s tall, slender frame, with a pretty face, and thick dark auburn hair.
Four years ago, huge horned-rimmed glasses with Coke-bottle thick lenses distorted her eyes, giving them the appearance of great green trout in a fishbowl. Through surgery, today the glasses were gone, the nightmare of Ellie’s seeing disorder a well-guarded secret.
“I assume you’ll be competing today.” Maggie noticed Ellie kept glancing over her shoulder at the horses taking the fences in the practice ring.
She nodded. “I drew number eighteen. That should give me a chance to watch some of the others ride before I take the course.”
Her hand trembled as she tucked a strand of red-brown hair up under her riding cap. “I’m a little nervous, but Jubilee has been working well. He’s more than willing, as always.”
“From what I’ve read, he’s been performing like a champion.” In the past twelve months, Jubilee and Ellen Fletcher had become top contenders. Her performance at the Olympic selection trials had only been average, but she still had a chance, albeit a slim one. Today’s competition would weigh heavily as to whether she would make the Olympic team and be competing this summer in Europe, then go on to Seoul.
“I need to start warming up.” Ellie made a weak attempt at a smile. “It was nice to see you again, Mrs. Delaine.”
Her father gave her a hug. “You’ll do fine, honey.”
Ellie managed another un-smile and headed off toward the stables. Maggie noticed several appreciative glances cast the girl’s way as she walked past in her tight beige riding breeches. She had a full-busted figure many women would envy, though she seemed unaware of her charms.
Maggie smiled. “I’d better get going. I’ll be crossing my fingers for Ellie.” She waved to Will and started walking, then noticed a man in conversation with one of the riders. For an instant, the ground seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
She should have been prepared for this. She thought she had been.
“Are you alright?” Will asked, catching up with her.
Maggie forced a calm she didn’t feel. “I’m fine. I just...I should have eaten breakfast, I guess.”
Unwillingly, Maggie’s eyes fixed on Jake Sullivan, the taller of the men in conversation. His wavy black hair, touched with silver at the temples, curled above the collar of his shirt. Maggie remembered the way it felt between her fingers. Tiny lines radiated out from the corners of his eyes, a brilliant, mesmerizing blue.
“I’ve got to go,” Will said. “I need to talk to Ellie’s coach before her round begins. I’ll see you later.”
Maggie barely heard him. Will moved off across the hoof-torn grass and Maggie looked at Jake. She wondered if he was there with a woman. The fact she cared stirred a self-directed shot of disgust. How could Jake still affect her after nearly a year?
She had known she would run into him sooner or later. He wasChef d ‘Equipe,head coach of the U.S. Olympic show jumping team. She’d taken that fact into consideration before she’d accepted the job as assistant director. She’d just been caught off guard.
With a calming breath, Maggie headed for her place in judging stand. After her husband’s death four years ago, she had immersed herself in the horse world he had loved, reading every journal, determined to know as much about what was happening as she possibly could. Eventually, she’d accepted the job as Assistant Director of the U.S. Equestrian Team.
Now that she was in L.A, fully immersed in her role, Maggie wondered if Les would have been proud of her.
Climbing into the booth, she greeted the judges, took her seat and began making pleasant conversation. But as she waited for the show to start, her thoughts drifted from the colorful sights and sounds, back to a time in the not-so distant past.
It was the day of Les’ funeral. She and Sarah were sitting in front of the casket beneath a dark green canopy. The Florida air smelled musky though the mound of damp earth from the grave was covered with a canvas tarp.
Maggie held onto the five-year-old’s small hand, as moist and clammy as the air around them. Her own felt cold and dry. It seemed like an eternity since the funeral had begun in the grassy cemetery on the hill, but finally, mercifully, even the graveside portion of the service was over.
