Chapter 3

As I headed for the back door to the main house a thought slammed into my mind!

I WAS IN ENGLAND ILLEGALLY!

Things were going so well that I had forgotten that I was, technically, still on the run. I really felt AT HOME with these people and in this place.

I stopped walking and stood still for a minute. Then I turned in a circle and looked around. This time I saw, actually saw, what I had helped to restore. Everything was freshly painted, albeit some of the color choices were odd due to the paint that I had scavenged, and the yard was neat and tidy. The whole place looked respectable again. There were new horses coming in on a regular basis and the yard was solvent again. Added to that was the fact that old Ben was doing a lot better. Teaching me the business was rejuvenating the old boy.

The questions are do I want to stay here in England? Do I want to become a trainer? What about being a jockey? What about my family? They were a vindictive lot, to say the least, and I had ruined their plans of ascension up the social ladder and perhaps more. What would they do?

Annie came up beside me and asked, "Lacie? Are you all right? You're as white as a sheet!"

"What? Oh, I just realized that there are a lot of things that I need to figure out before I see your grandfather."

"What ever do you mean? What's the matter?" asked Annie looking even more concerned.

"There are a lot of things that you don't know about me, Annie. Things that I have to figure out, things that can no longer be put off."

"Are you wanted by the police or something like that?" asked Annie with a smile, trying to make a joke.

"Something like that," I said flatly.

The poor girl went white with worry.

"Look Annie, I need to think. I'm going for a walk. I'll talk to you when I get back."

"You are coming back then?"

I looked at her, a little surprised by her remark. "Why would you ask such a thing, girl? Of course I'm coming back."

"Well it's just that things are finally back to working order and I have been waiting for 'the other shoe to drop, ' metaphorically speaking. I mean we have had such a rough time here, and then you came and rescued us. Like I said before, things are good now. Too good to be true, almost."

"Don't worry I'll be back," I said.

"Ok."

I turned and went out through the horse gate at the back of the yard; I didn't want to deal with cars. The town is honeycombed with horse tracks that are auto restricted, and by this time of the evening all of the horses are locked up in their stalls for the night. Therefore, it was a nice quiet place to walk and think.

I didn't go far because it was getting too dark. I stopped walking and sat on a fence that bordered the track.

"Ok, first question: Do I want to stay in England?"

The answer to that question was a resounding, YES!

I then asked myself, "What about being a jockey?"

To be quite honest I had to admit that goal was not so important now that I had a whole stable of horses to deal with each and every day, soooo ... No.

The third and fourth questions were related to each other. Did I want to be a trainer and, further, did I want to take over Cutter's Way Stables?

I sat thinking of how I had met Annie at the exact moment that I needed to. It was as if God ordained that meeting! Then I thought about the way that I had been able to fit in and help the wonderful people at the sables, from old Ben on down to the retired jockeys that did the schooling of the horses.

The answers to those two questions became obvious and I blurted out, "Well HELL, YES! Of course I want to!"

The next question I could not answer and I feared that fact. I would need to become legal here in England and I was sure that as soon as I did that my family would be all over me. Just what would/could they do?

I pulled out my newest 'pay as you go' cell phone and looked at the time readout. With the time difference I could see that Uncle Joe would still be up—he was getting quite elderly and retired early these days—and I knew that he could help me out of this mess. At least I hoped that he could.

I dialed his number.

"Uncle Joe?"

"Lacie! How are you my girl?"

"I'm good, very good, in fact."

"Glad to hear it."

"Are you exercising and taking your heart pills like you're supposed to?"

"Yes. My ... my ... Your as bad as your grandmother, child. Right to the point," he said with a chuckle.

"Look, Uncle Joe, I love you and I don't want to lose you. You know that you have to exercise and watch your diet or you will need another heart operation. I'm too far away to help if you have another heart attack. Besides, you're the only one of my family that isn't out to get me."

"But..."

"No! I know what you're going to say ... you're not blood! Uncle Joe you're more 'family' to me than my blood family ever was or ever will be!"

"All right, all right, girl! I have been exercising regularly and both old Bell and I have lost weight—she walks with me each and every day. Now enough of this, I have some news."

"Oh man ... this isn't going to be good is it?"

"No my dear it isn't, but I think that I know a way around it."

"What are they up to now?"

"Your parents have sought legal action to declare you dead. Also they have filed for a release of the trust to them because I'm too old and feeble to handle your trust."

"Shit, just when things were going so well here! What are we going to do?"

"Well, I think that they are doing this to flush you out. Once they have done that they will try to have you declared incompetent. I think that there is some real need for a cash influx into the family. My sources tell me that your father made some very costly investments. We are unable to ascertain the extent of the losses but I am beginning to think that they are quite substantial. Lacie, I fear that they are at the point that they will do anything to get at that trust fund of yours."

"Oh, Uncle, I 'm so tired of all of this, I just want to be free of them. Maybe I should just sign it over to them and be done."

"That's the point, my dear. You will never be done with them. You're their last chance to get a title in the family. Until you marry that drunken Duke they will continue to harass you. Just look at your sister for verification."

"Well, what do we do then?"

"When are you running another horse in France?"

"We're not. The owner that liked racing there has decided to retire her horse."

"Oh..."

"Why?"

"I don't want them to know that you're in England."

"Of course."

"Is it that you want me to prove that I'm alive, and to hint that I am in France, somehow?"

"Exactly!"

"Well, how about this? I send you a picture of me holding a copy Le Monde, along with a hand written letter stating that I am alive and well and do not wish my family to have my trust, and that I want you to remain as the caretaker. That way they can't declare me dead."

"It might be enough ... and my doctors have already filed 'Friend of the Court' papers, stating that I'm physically fit and sound of mind. It won't stop them but it surely will slow them down."

"Good! I'll fax you the photo and papers tomorrow."

"Fine, my dear. That is a fine idea ... By the way, you're as sharp as your grandmother was."

"Thanks, Uncle. Now I have a problem here. I need to become legal here in England—without loosing my US citizenship. Annie tells me that old Ben wants to give me his business. I want to be able to accept before he dies to avoid the death tax that they have here. We might even have to buy it out over time to avoid legal roadblocks. How do I get around all of this?"

"Funny you should ask?" he said with a chuckle.

"What?"

"I've had a young woman that looks like you traveling all around Europe. It will be no problem to have her move from France to England and establish residence there. It's a good thing that it is the European Union now. It makes things like this a bit easier."

"Why do I get the idea that you've done this before? Never mind ... I don't want to know. Anyway, I've been here for over a year and all of the people know it. Plus I've ridden in some races as an amateur. How do we get around that?"

"Not to worry my dear. I'll work it all out. Just make sure that you send me the dates that you rode with the photo."

"Ok, Uncle. You know best."

"Good! Now it's getting late and Bell and I need our rest. Though, truth be told, the old girl has been curled at my feet sleeping the whole time we have been talking. Hee-hee-hee."

"All right, Uncle, you take care and I will send those things off in the morning. I love you, you old goat."