Smoky Mountain Home. Lynnette Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ Ann glared up at him, speechless with too many emotions to name—foremost among them being fury that he read her too easily, along with a weird sort of shiver as her body touched his. “I—You—”

      “Here we are.” Jayne Thomas entered carrying a tray with a coffeepot and cups. Miriam Edwards followed, bearing a basket of pastries and bagels.

      Suddenly free, Ruth Ann took a long step back at the same time as Jonah pivoted to face the new arrivals. “Good morning, Miriam,” he said smoothly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

      Miriam gushed over him, paying Ruth Ann no attention whatsoever. And Ruth Ann was grateful, for once, because she could feel her face flaming red, the way it did whenever she was embarrassed. While the others poured coffee and debated over calories, she walked back to her chair at the end of the table, rubbing her hands over her shoulders to erase the tingles lingering there. Picking up her favorite mug—the one with a cartoon of the front end of a cute pony on one side and the tail end on the other—she took a deep breath, then turned to confront the situation.

      “Okay,” she said, glad that her voice didn’t shake. “I can’t spend all morning in here—I’ve got work to do at the barn. What are we supposed to accomplish?”

      She heard Jayne sigh at her bluntness, but Miriam was the one who spoke. “Now, Ruth Ann, dear, I know how attached you are to the old stable, and for good reasons—certainly your family has a history there and we understand that means a lot to you.”

      Miriam was a well-preserved sixty years old, a lawyer’s wife who advertised his success with cashmere sweaters, triple strands of real pearls at her throat and diamonds set in platinum on her fingers. Her coppery hair gleamed in the light from the library’s overhead lamps and swung smoothly around her face as she nodded. She kept a string of hunters and polo ponies in her own stable, and wanted the barn at Hawkridge named in her honor.

      “I’ve been thinking since our meeting last week,” she continued, including Jonah in her glance, “and it occurred to me that perhaps we don’t have to raze the old building. Once we’ve built the new equestrian facility, we could get the old one cleaned up and use it for…some other purpose.”

      Before Ruth Ann could object, Jayne leaned forward in her chair. “Come and sit at this end of the table, Ruth Ann. You’ll be able to see better. And I can pour you some fresh coffee. I know you live on the stuff.”

      Reluctantly, Ruth Ann sat down beside Jayne, with Miriam across the table and Granger sitting closest to the easel. A glance at his superior smile set her teeth on edge. Once Jayne handed back her mug, Ruth Ann made sure that the back end of the pony faced Jonah as she took a long sip.

      His eyes narrowed as he took in her message. In the next instant, though, the frown smoothed away as he got to his feet. “Miriam, I think that’s a good idea, though we’re not quite to the stage yet where Ms. Blakely has agreed to cooperate. I thought I would go through my elevations and floor plans again, Ms. Blakely—”

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she interrupted. “Call me Ruth Ann. It’s hard to argue effectively using last names.”

      His grin, now filled with real amusement, surprised her. “True. I’m Jonah. As I was saying, I thought this would give you a chance to voice any thoughts, ask any questions that occur to you.”

      For Jayne’s sake, Ruth Ann bit back the sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue. “Go ahead,” she told Jonah. “Impress me.”

      The exterior drawings were beautiful renderings of an imposing structure fit for a king, not merely the king’s horses. Ruth Ann looked at the headmistress. “Our girls should have such nice quarters. Why don’t we make this the new residence hall, instead of a stable?”

      Jayne frowned at her. Miriam said, “My sister’s new barn blends with its environment and looks like it’s always been there. I expect Jonah can do the same with this building, by the time construction and landscaping are complete.”

      “My stable blends with its environment,” Ruth Ann countered, “because it’s been there for more than a hundred years. Howard Ridgely used the same brick and stone and timber for the house and the barn. You’ll never get new materials to match.”

      “You’d be surprised what can be achieved with the right tools.” Jonah shifted the pages to display an interior view. “A new building can be aged to complement its surroundings.” He held up a hand when Ruth Ann started to say something. “Without the kind of deterioration that natural aging inevitably brings about. You get a stronger building with a similar appearance.”

      And so it went. For every objection Ruth Ann raised, Miriam and Jonah had an explanation of how their stable would be superior. High ceilings, expensive materials, too much space or not enough…nothing she could say broke through their certainty. Jayne appeared to be listening to both sides, but Ruth Ann couldn’t tell what conclusions she drew. Anyway, she was only the headmistress—the Board of Directors would tell her what they wanted done and she would execute their orders.

      “It’s okay, I guess,” Ruth Ann said, once Jonah had finished his presentation. “I mean, I’m sure some people would feel privileged to have a barn like this for their horses. But it’s too big, for one thing—the number of extra steps you would add to my day would become miles before long. The tack room down there,” she said, pointing to the room plan, “and the stalls over here—you’ve got me carrying saddles and bridles and blankets from one end of the place to the other.”

      “These details can be modified,” Jonah replied in a stiff voice.

      “There’s no room for hay storage without using stall space. The feed room is on an interior wall, meaning I’ll have to bring bags through the aisle rather than being able to use an outside door.

      “As for upkeep—have you seen the cobwebs a barn ceiling can accumulate? How am I going to clean those clerestory windows thirty feet off the floor? Horseshoes chip brick floors. Horses chew wood and kick walls—how are you going to feel when your mahogany stall paneling gets smashed? The amount of money needed to keep a place like this in good shape and the number of people required for maintenance are way beyond what the school has been willing or able to fund in the past. I can’t—”

      “Enough.” Jonah held up a hand. “Clearly, this plan doesn’t meet with your approval.” He looked at Miriam. “I can make changes, of course, to bring the project more in line with Ms. Bla—Ruth Ann’s ideas.”

      Miriam folded her hands together on the table, where her rings twinkled under the lights. “Well, to be frank, Jonah, Ruth Ann doesn’t have final approval for the stable plans. We’ve solicited her advice, of course, because she’s good at her job. But in the end, the board will decide what’s to be done about the equestrian facility.” Her gaze conveyed no warmth as she glanced in Ruth Ann’s direction. “With or without her.”

      Ruth Ann hadn’t expected anything else, though she hadn’t thought to hear the truth expressed quite so blatantly this morning. After a couple of seconds, she cleared her throat and nodded. “I understand the situation, Mrs. Edwards. I’ve already explained my position to Ms. Thomas. I like working at Hawkridge. I think my horses are good for the girls. My stipulation for staying is that we use the old barn—a building constructed by men who knew and loved horses, managed for a century by men who felt the same. My barn has flaws, I grant you, but nothing a careful renovation couldn’t correct. I believe the history of the old stable makes it as valuable as the Manor itself to Hawkridge School.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ