No Smoke Withoutout Fire: Walnut Grove, #3

Chapter One

A re you all finished ? The auctioneer paused, his eyes sweeping the pavilion, hopeful of one more bid, before he finally raised his walnut gavel and brought it sweeping down to strike its matching wooden block on the desk in front of him.

Sold to Ben Veiga: three hundred and seventy-five thousand.

Livi—Olivia—gazed transfixed at the screen located above the area where the last of her three thoroughbred yearlings had just been offered for sale. She was lost for words. Each had stood impeccably behaved, arrogant even, before the row of auctioneers and their assistants.

'Hip 157 - $375,000' the brightly lit display proclaimed.

She expelled the breath she seemed to have been holding for an eternity and began to breathe normally once more. As she did so, she became aware of Matt next to her, his arm around her, hugging her close, his voice congratulating her. At the same time, several people in the surrounding seats turned around or leaned forward to acknowledge her achievement with warm acclaim.

Livi was unable to speak. In reality, she could barely absorb what had just taken place, but she managed to smile her appreciation. Little by little, she returned to earth. She was so elated she could have done handsprings. Only in her wildest dreams had she dared to imagine that the colt might sell so well; in truth, she would have been overjoyed with less. And even then there was a bittersweetness. Such total, unqualified fulfillment in a purpose comes rarely enough, and she experienced a deep sadness that Will, her first husband who had been killed in an accident the year before, had not been there to share the achievement with her. She steadfastly construed the sale as his triumph, not hers.

Every fall, in countries all around the world, thoroughbred breeders offer their yearlings at various auctions. In the eight weeks leading up to the sales, their preparation will have focused on feeding, health care, grooming, and exercise, all designed to bring each horse to its peak at sale time. The major sales venues in the US are Keenland and Fasig-Tipton in Kentucky, while Florida has Ocala and California has Barretts Sales in Pomona. Following in her late husband's footsteps, Livi had sold that year's consignment at Barretts. Even this had an aura of predestination because, in future years, the venue would be moving from Pomona to Del Mar.

She responded to Matt’s embrace. I don’t believe it. That colt has taken our earnings to over six hundred thousand. I was hoping for five. This is way the best sale Walnut Grove has ever had.

Matt chuckled and hugged her again, even tighter. You deserve every penny of it; you’ve been through one heck of a year. Come on, let’s go and celebrate. He took her elbow and proceeded to guide her, weaving their way out of the crowded sales pavilion, and into the adjoining restaurant where he spotted an unoccupied table. As they headed towards it, they walked straight into the path of a big man with crumpled, good-natured features, a thatch of dark brown hair, a jovial smile, and clad in a made-to-measure, double-breasted suit, doing its best to hold everything together.

Livi, I had no idea it would be such a struggle to buy that colt, Ben Veiga declared. I did battle with some highly respected agents and trainers, but by heck, I got him in the end.

She grasped his large, extended hand. Ben, I’m so glad you did. With Team Spirit owning him, we’ll still keep a special relationship with him. Come on, we're on our way to celebrate. You must join us and drown your sorrows, seeing as he cost you so much.

Livi led the way to the still vacant table. Directly they were seated, a waiter materialized and Matt ordered a bottle of Piper Sonoma Brut champagne. My treat, he said. Today tops off a perfect year for me. I met you, Livi  . . . he reached across the table and enclosed her hand in his. And to crown everything, you’ve just accomplished your best sale ever.

The waiter popped the cork and filled three tall champagne flutes. Matt accepted his, and taking Livi’s hand again, raised his glass in a toast, his blue eyes intense with emotion. To you my love. Let this be the first of many successful sales you achieve under your stewardship of Walnut Grove.

Livi's hazel eyes brimmed with tears. She had originally owned Walnut Grove in partnership with Will, her first husband, who had been killed in a traffic accident along with his foreman and Pink Parachute, their champion mare which they had been transporting home to the Santa Ynez Valley from training at the track.

I couldn’t have done it without you, or Isidoro, or Luis. They’ve worked their butts off for me and I’m going to reward both of them. She sniffed and attempted to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand.

Ben Veiga fished in his breast pocket and handed her a crisp, folded handkerchief.

The money I’ve just spent, it should be me mopping up my tears so I may need this back again. He beamed with approval as he watched Livi manage a smile. "Your, or should I say my colt will go straight up to our beautiful new horse farm at Los Olivos to get broken. As our veterinarian, you’ll still see a lot of him Matt and you know you’ll always be welcome to visit Livi. He chuckled. My next job will be to put together a Team Spirit syndicate, once my co-directors and I have decided whether to offer six or twelve shares in him."

He clapped his hands together. But enough of that—back to the present. I must toast your achievement too Livi. You and your staff have done a superb job with the colt. He raised his slender glass of bubbles. To Livi, Matt and Walnut Grove; a toast to your continued success and prosperity, and perhaps most important, may it always be a joy for you.

Livi had first met Ben Veiga earlier in the year when she had sought his advice over a legal issue, brought about when her late husband's cousin threatened to sue her over his partnership in the ill-fated Pink Parachute.

After two glasses each, the champagne bottle was empty. Livi and Matt left the restaurant and accompanied Ben Veiga to the colt’s stall in Barn Two. Livi and Matt to bid him farewell, Ben to take charge of him as his new acquisition.

Livi stroked the colt’s soft nose. He pressed his head against her hand and whiffled her cheek gently with his velvety black muzzle. Make us proud of you, she whispered.

Isidoro, Livi’s foreman and his cousin, Luis were standing to one side of the colt’s stall. Livi turned to them. We’re just about finished here. Can you get all the gear together and take it out front? We’ll fetch Matt’s SUV from the parking lot and pick you up in a few minutes.

Without any holdups, the drive from Barrett's Sales complex in Pomona to Walnut Grove, north of Buellton in the Santa Ynez Valley takes around two and a half hours. It was well past nine when they departed, so they needed to make good time if they were to reach the farm before midnight.

Matt drove, with Livi beside him. Isidoro and Luis occupied the back seats. When they were on the freeway, Livi fished her phone out of her purse. I must call Mom and Dad and tell them the good news and let them know when to expect us back. Her parents were overseeing the farm in their absence, although with the broodmares and their weaned foals still out in the paddocks day and night it was more a token presence. In reality, they were keeping company with Chrissy, Livi's fifteen-year-old daughter.

On the 101, driving west through the San Fernando Valley, where Livi had done much of her growing up, Matt declared he was starving. At the next exit, signed for Mulholland Drive, he left the freeway and swung into a Subway where he bought a selection of sandwiches, coffees, and soft drinks and was back on the road again within fifteen minutes. He drove with one hand on the wheel, a sandwich in the other, his coffee cup in the holder. Livi selected a sandwich and handed the tray back to Isidoro and his cousin who tucked in with enthusiasm.

It was ten minutes shy of midnight when Matt reached Isidoro’s house. Livi observed the exhaustion on the two men’s' faces as they clambered from the SUV. Don't come to work until nine tomorrow. Get a decent night's sleep, she instructed them, before Matt continued a short distance along the road and turned into Walnut Grove's main entrance gate.

As expected, Livi’s parents and Chrissy were all waiting in the kitchen and her two Dalmatians greeted her with unmitigated delight, tongues lolling, welcoming her home.

Six hundred and five thousand, Charles, her father repeated in amazement. Livi had brought them up to date with the sales figures when she had called from the car, but he was clearly still in shock.

Three hundred and seventy-five thousand, a hundred and thirty-five thousand and ninety-five thousand, Matt acknowledged. When we left, Livi's Elusive Quality colt was topping the sales and I can’t see anything still on offer beating him. Livi, you’ve really put Walnut Grove on the map.

Livi shook her head. By now, her initial elation had settled into a warm, cozy glow of achievement. No. Those three yearlings were the result of Will’s knowledge and planning, not mine, and the same’s true for this year’s foals. Will had charted and assessed all the bloodlines and decided on the matings. The studs the mares went to this year too had already been scheduled before the accident. My judgment will come into play with next year’s matings.

But you oversaw all their preparation, her father pointed out, determined to apportion her some recognition.

No, I didn’t, not really. Isidoro and Luis have to take all the credit. Throughout the years I’ve had limited involvement in the yearling preparation and I’m grateful to Isidoro for recommending his cousin to help. They make a great team.

Hmm . . . Charles clearly wasn’t persuaded. You’re not being fair to yourself Livi. Every team needs a leader before it can perform to its full potential.

In that case, Luis was the team leader. I hired him because of his experience and knowledge to fill the gap left when Will died. Luis knew his job inside out and I was happy to let him make all the decisions.

That’s as maybe . . .

How about Sam Nichols’ yearling? Chrissy interjected, sensing her mother’s disquiet. Sam was a long-time friend of Livi's who boarded his mare and her annual progeny at Walnut Grove.

His filly sold for fifty-six thousand much earlier in the day, Matt told her. Sam was delighted; it was pretty much the figure he was hoping for.

At that point, Livi was no longer able to smother a weary yawn. She had come down from the high she reached with the fall of the hammer and she felt utterly drained.

Spotting this, Matt immediately put his arm protectively around her shoulders.

I’m really sorry guys, but Livi’s falling asleep on her feet. She’s been awake for more than eighteen hours and needs to get her head down. If I know Livi, once she’s had a night’s rest, you’ll have a job stopping her talking about it in the morning. Come on sweetheart.

Once in their bedroom, Livi collapsed onto the bed. Matt sat down beside her, removed her shoes, and began to massage her bare feet, his thumbs working out the knots.

She rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes in contentment. Mmm . . . that feels so-o good. For Livi, this simple act of tenderness was a welcome respite from the madness that had overtaken her life recently, and for the first time in days, she sensed the tension begin to slip away as she relaxed.

You were really upset because your father was discounting Will's part in the colts' breeding, Matt observed.

She forced her eyes open again. You noticed? Oh, I'm tired, desperately tired, but yes, it was really out of character for Dad to be so single-minded and it bugged me. She reached out for his hand. "You understand, don't you? This farm and its breeding program are Will's creation and achievement and will be for some time to come. Granted I'm playing more of a part these days, you are too, but the farm as you see it now, the mares and the foals are all the result of Will's vision. It was a rundown, ramshackle ruin when we bought it. Will mapped out its recovery. He sat night after night poring through sales catalogs and stud books before he bought the mares and before he arranged their matings.

As for preparing the yearlings for sale today, those accolades go to Luis and Isidoro, and you too for their veterinary care. What did I do for heaven's sake?

Don't underestimate yourself. You may not be as hands on as Will was, but you have a great capacity to instill loyalty in your staff. Isidoro and Luis are devoted to you. Without that, Walnut Grove would have continued to flounder after Will died.

D'you think so? Her smile was bittersweet. Well, but for you arriving here that morning and recommending Isidoro, I know I would have caved in under the bank manager's insistence and sold the farm. Chrissy and I would be living in the San Fernando Valley, you'd still be locuming somewhere . . .

Don't you believe it. We'd still have met. Matt brushed her forehead with his lips. Fate would have brought us together, some way or another. But try not to be too hard on your Dad, your parents are very proud of your courage, you'd be the same if it were Chrissy.

Livi allowed her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, to close again. Mmm, I know.  . . Her voice drifted into silence and a few seconds later, her regular breathing told him she was asleep. Matt drew the covers over her, then pulled off his shirt and slacks, crept into the bathroom to brush his teeth then snuggled next