Read an Excerpt

Blood on the Bluegrass

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By Don Wright

New Way Publishing

Copyright © 2001 Don Wright
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-2324-9

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Chapter One

When Lisa Brethett awakened, a blanket of darkness was still wrapped around the mountain.

She lay there for some time, listening to the heavy breathing of her husband. Her heart was filled with love for this man sleeping beside her.

She tilted her head down and flicked his naked nipple with her tongue. He stirred and snuggled closer to her. Gently, she caught his nipple between her lips and squeezed.

"You little nympho," he growled sleepily.

They both loved this game they played. She would tease him; he would try to resist her.

She raised her head and kissed him tenderly on the lips. She traced his mouth with her tongue. She felt his body stiffen beside her. His mouth popped open. As his tongue touched hers, she grabbed it with her teeth and held it.

His response was immediate. She let loose of his tongue and giggled as she scrambled on top of him.

What followed was what God had in mind when He created man and woman. This was a perfect blend of raw passion and gentle, tender love.

Out of breath, the couple lay there laughing, touching, and hugging each other.

Sometime later she whispered, "Cody, I have to go to the track to take care of the horses."

"Would you like me to come with you?" he asked.

She kissed him lovingly as she answered. "No, I want you to get your work done and come home early this evening. I promise to make it a night you will never forget. I might even abuse your body again."

"That's the best offer I have had today."

She turned on a nightlight and got out of bed. She was a perfect little doll woman. She was only four feet, ten inches tall and weighed one hundred and eight pounds. Her light brown hair was short, and she had a pretty pixie face. Her trademark was a happy smile.

Cody Brethett observed her longingly as she dressed. She pulled on a pair of skin-tight riding breeches. His eyes reflected approval as she crossed the room to her closet. As she removed a shirt, he whistled softly.

She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled seductively.

"Lisa, I swear to God that you have the prettiest ass ever put on a woman!"

"I suppose that's the only reason you married me," she pouted.

"Not exactly," he laughed, "but it sure was the first thing that got my attention!"

She returned to the edge of the bed with a shirt, bra, and high top riding boots. As she bent over to struggle her feet into the boots, her orange-sized breasts were a tempting target for his mouth.

She evaded his advance. "You're not messing with me! I'll never get out of here."

After dressing, she stood beside the bed and looked down at him.

"Do you know how much I love you and how happy I am?" she asked.

"Yes, I know that. Do you know I'm the happiest and luckiest man I know? I will never do anything to make you unhappy."

She picked up her quirt and riding helmet. She tapped his shoulder with the whip.

"Don't forget; come home early tonight." Bending over, she gave him a long kiss on the lips and left the bedroom.

Cody had built this house years before he met Lisa. He had bulldozed and blasted the rock and soil out from under a giant L-shaped overhanging cliff.

He had installed steel beams under the cliff. Natural stone gathered from the farm was used to form the outside walls. Giant picture windows looked out on the scenic valley below.

A fireplace large enough to hold six-foot logs was built at the end of the room. On each side of the fireplace was a gun-filled cabinet.

The room Lisa had walked into was huge and held the kitchen and dining area. A formal living room with its set of furniture was located against the back wall. In front of one of the windows was a family area with couches, chairs, and TV.

The natural rock of the mountains had been sanded and polished and was used to construct the L-shaped house.

Lisa loved this house. It was Cody Brethett. A different kind of house for a different kind of man. The furnishings had all been selected by Lisa. When she married Cody, he owned only an old bed, an antique microwave, a coffee pot, a TV, and two rumpled overstuffed chairs.

"Pretty bad, isn't it?" he had asked as she walked around the farm equipment he had been working on in the house.

She had laughed gaily, "Yes, it's pretty bad!" You need everything. How much can I spend?"

"Lisa," he had said, "I don't have time to deal with drapes and doilies. Spend what you need to so we'll have a home you can be proud of."

She made herself happy, and he had approved of the end results. He had always been a very private person, but now he had a wife with many friends. She shared her friends with him and he came to enjoy the social scene.

As Lisa walked toward the front door, she experienced a feeling of great satisfaction with her unique house. Life was good.

The sky was still a steely grey when she walked out to her pickup truck. As she drove down the lane toward the highway, the sun began to peep over the top of the hill.

She crossed over a small stream and watched a group of wild ducks take to the air, squawking in protest of being disturbed. The early morning sun was reflecting off the trees that were dressed in their fall colors. She loved Kentucky in September.

She was planning the rest of her day as she turned onto the highway and drove toward Paducah.

This evening Cody would learn that he was going to be a father.

She would miss riding the horses, but she was ecstatic about the baby. She was experiencing the eternal tug of her body to reproduce for her man.

Paducah was waking up as Lisa drove into town. She turned off the highway and shortly was at the gate of Bluegrass Downs. She exchanged pleasantries with Waldo Emerson, the aged gatekeeper. He was very fond of Lisa.

As she drove on through the gate and down across the parking lot to the barn, she waved at the people she passed.

After parking her truck, she headed to the barn, where she could see her two thoroughbreds with their heads hanging over the stall door, nickering to her. At this time of the morning, she represented food.

After feeding and giving the horses fresh water, she returned to her truck. She drove off the grounds. Her next stop was the Days Inn.

She came here each morning for breakfast and ate with the jockeys and trainers. Here, she always enjoyed "horse talk." With this group, talent with a horse garnered more respect than wealth.

Lisa had come to Paducah as a jockey, where she was the sensation of the season. She had an instinct of where to place a horse. In a race, she had nerves of steel. She was destined to be a star.

One morning a large semi-truck and trailer loaded with hay pulled into the barn area of the track. The name on the truck said "CODY BRETHETT FARMS."

As the men were unloading the truck, a duelly pickup entered the barn area and parked next to the semi. The name on the side of the truck also said "CODY BRETHETT FARMS."

Lisa had been galloping a horse and had just come off the track. She dismounted from the hard-breathing animal and began to walk it back to the barn.

A man got out of the pickup. She felt the full power of his eyes as he stood there staring at her. As she continued past him, she thought, "Damn you! How is a person supposed to walk natural when some son-of-a-bitch is licking his chops over your rear end?"

When she put the horse away, she was finished for the morning. She had no choice but to walk back by the man to get her truck.

As she reached him, he stepped in front of her. With a smile, he said "I'm Cody Brethett. What's your name?"

"You don't need to know," she shot back.

"What have I done?" He continued to smile disarmingly.

"You have no manners, Mr. Brethett. I don't like the way you look at me."

He held up his hands, palms out toward her.

"I know what you're saying, and you're right. It's just that seeing you this morning is a shock I wasn't prepared for."

"How could it be a shock? I've never seen you before in my life," she retorted.

The smile left his handsome face. The sensual green eyes bored into hers.

"I've always known that someday, somewhere I would find the woman with whom I wanted to share the rest of my life. I just wasn't expecting it to be today."

"Don't feed me a line of crap," she glared at him. "You should be ashamed of yourself. You're old enough to be my father."

"I thought about that while you were putting the horse away. There's nothing we can do about it. I can't make you any older, and I'm not going to get any younger. We'll just have to deal with it."

"I don't intend to deal with anything. You're crazy! I don't want anything to do with you. Now, get out of my way," she hissed.

Cody stepped back. As she walked by him, he said, "Little lady, you might as well give it up. Start looking for your wedding dress. I'm going to marry you!"

She whirled around and pointed her finger at him, her voice rising in anger.

"Go talk your garbage to some air head who will believe you. If you ever get in my way again, I'll kick you so hard you'll end up being a gelding!"

As she spun around and stormed across the parking lot she heard him say, "Hell of a woman! Thank you, Lord!"

That afternoon she responded to a knock on her door. It was Cody Brethett with a handful of roses. She slammed the door in his face. He left the flowers on the doorstep. She threw them into the garbage can.

That night she rode her mount toward the starting gate and she saw Cody beside the rail watching her. The next morning he was at the same spot when she galloped a horse for a buyer.

When she returned to her truck, he was leaning against it, holding a garbage can lid in front of his crotch.

"Can I talk to you now?" he smiled.

"No," she said shortly, and drove away.

The next morning as she was having breakfast with the trainers and jockeys, Cody came in and took a seat across from her. Everyone knew him, and he joined in the conversation.

Someone asked him what he was doing out so early.

"I'm getting my affairs in order. I'm getting married as soon as this meet is over."

"Do we know her?" one of the trainers asked.

"Yes, but she's shy and wants to keep it a secret for a while."

Lisa was seething at the arrogance of this man. She tried not to notice how handsome he was. Six feet tall, lean and tough-looking. He had a shock of dark auburn hair that spilled down over his forehead. It was those damned emerald eyes laughing at her that upset her the most.

During the course of the chit-chat, she learned that he furnished the hay for the track. When they left the restaurant, she found that he had parked next to her truck.

"Lisa, I would like for you to come out to my farm sometime," he said.

"Mr. Brethett, you may be a nice man. Everyone seems to like you. I'm just not interested. I'm 19 years old. You have to be at least 30. I'm a jockey; you're a farmer. I'll be gone as soon as the meet is over. I have no interest in having an affair."

"I'm 36 years old. You can ask anyone. They will tell you that my word is good. I give you my word, I also have no interest in having an affair with you. I have never chased after a woman. I feel foolish doing it now. You have to understand that what I feel for you has to be addressed. It wouldn't be fair to me if I didn't try to get to you. I don't want to look stupid pursuing you all over town. Spend some time with me!"

Lisa's heart began to speed up as she looked into the green depths of his eyes. She recognized the dominant male traits in him, because he was such a sensual man.

"Well, Mr. Brethett, how about Monday when the track is closed?"

"Call me Cody. Monday will be fine."

Lisa had gone to his farm, and she had fallen in love. They were married at the end of the season.

She purchased two race horses and boarded them at Bluegrass Downs. When the new season started, she rode only her own horses. She raced now just for the pleasure of it.

He shared her happiness. They did everything together. Joy and laughter filled their lives.

When Lisa returned to the track, it was a beehive of activity. She treasured her relationship with the racetrack people, and knew that they returned her affection.

Trainers and exercise riders were starting their day. Riders were galloping horses; grooms were brushing, washing, and cleaning tack.

Sonny Ford had Lisa's grey mare out and saddled when she returned to the track. Sonny had once been a promising jockey before an accident left him crippled for life. Now he made a living helping out around the track. She hired him as much as possible, and Cody gave him work in the winter.

Sonny gave her a leg up, and she trotted the mare out onto the track. She rode light and sure-handed. She trotted the mare for a mile and then galloped for two miles.

After returning to the barn, she helped Sonny give the mare a bath and then put her on the hot walker to cool out.

Sonny went to the stall to get Lisa's all-time favorite horse. Black Ice finally allowed the bridle to be put on him. He came out of the stall snorting and whistling his challenge to the world. Other stallions threatened him back.

"He sure stirs up the studs," Sonny smiled.

"He's in rare form today," she smiled back.

Black Ice danced and pranced to the saddle area. He arched his splendid neck; his dark eyes danced; his mouth worked the bit until foam covered his powerful chest. He was a king, and he knew it.

"Are you going to work him today?" Ford asked.

"Yes, he needs it. He's raring to go."

As she rode the black stallion toward the track, people began to move toward the rail. Everyone loved to see Black Ice run. Race people never got enough of watching a good horse work.

After his warm up, she moved him toward the rail. He was beside himself waiting for her to signal him to go. Suddenly she went down on his neck. He exploded beneath her. She felt the sting of the wind against her face. The sound of his hoofs were music to her ears.

After a while, she pulled him up. He played around on the way back to the barn. He would half-buck. He would run sideways. She just let him do whatever he wanted to.

"How did he look?" she asked Sonny as they unsaddled him.

"He looked great! We're going to make some serious money no doubt about it."

"Sonny, can you take care of the horses this evening? I have a date with my husband. Tonight I'm going to tell him about the baby."

"Of course, I'll take care of them. Cody's going to love being a father."

"Thank you, Sonny, for keeping my secret. If Cody knew, he would have pulled me off the horses a month ago."

Lisa left the stall area and walked across the parking lot to the women's restroom in the racing office. She was humming a happy tune.

It was good to be alive.

Chapter Two

There were twelve of them. Nine rode Harley Hogs; one rode an antique Indian and two occupied the nondescript van that followed the motorcycles.

They were long-haired, bearded, fierce-eyed men; the epitome of toxic humanity. They were members of the notorious Hill Hawks. The Hawks were Kentucky's most feared motorcycle gang.

Their colors included a grinning skull with the talons of a wild-eyed hawk grasping it.

The Hill Hawks were a loose confederation of clubs spread out over the state. They had over two hundred members. They would come together anytime or anywhere there was profit, drugs, booze, or women.

They counted among their membership experts in most criminal activities. Most of their money came from the cultivation of marijuana and the cocaine they distributed.

At the front of this motley dozen rode Tom Barlow. He sat on his bike straight and proud. Barlow was big, strong, and mean. He had won his small leadership role with his fists and boots and jealously guarded it.

Barlow had been put in charge of delivering 200 pounds of marijuana to Centralia, Illinois. They had used the van to haul it. The riders were along to protect the load.

They were in a wild, boisterous mood, and had been drinking all morning. The money stashed in the secret compartment of the van gave them a natural high. They were a time bomb with a short fuse. Anything could set them off.

Behind Barlow rode Hud Eldridge. He was a tall, thin man with a cadaveric appearance. He wore a black patch over his left eye. He told a story of a terrible fight in which he was involved, resulting in the loss of the eye. The truth was that a cousin had snagged him with a fishhook when they were boys.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Blood on the Bluegrass by Don Wright Copyright © 2001 by Don Wright. Excerpted by permission of New Way Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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