Page 26 of Sweet Summertide (Christmas Cove #4)

There was little else Holly disliked more than showing up to an event alone.

The occasion was irrelevant because the situation would play out the same each time.

She would walk inside, her mother would thrust any number of eligible members of the club at her, and she would make nice to get along.

Holly’s mother was fixated on maintaining appearances, while Holly was split between keeping the peace with her mother and being herself for her father.

Having parked at the end of a very long line of luxury cars skirting the semi-circular drive, Holly walked towards a sprawling clubhouse.

The farm’s compound accommodated meeting spaces and all the offices for the trainers, partners, and executives who all worked tirelessly to be the masters of the horse racing community.

All she saw was wasted money, though she would rightly admit to being a beneficiary of her mother’s success.

If the horses were the main draw, the clubhouse was next.

Holly had always loved the style of the building.

When Holly was a little girl, the club had undergone an extensive renovation and was remodeled in the Victorian style.

The single-story structure was painted white with black accents which allowed the copper downspouts and exterior lighting to shine.

Tall, rounded peaks accentuated the roofline and reminded her of a castle.

Even though the towers were decorative in nature, as children, she and Millie had gained access to one and set up the space as their own personal girl fort.

She looked up to the roofline and wondered which one still held the treasures they had stored there.

As she approached the front doors, Holly caught a whiff of the honeysuckle bushes that hugged the foundation.

Her mother’s favorite color had always been yellow, and mounds of golden flowers spilled out from below the bushes and onto the border of the drive.

Catching her reflection in the glass panel as a valet opened the front door, she realized she unintentionally had worn a yellow dress that day.

No doubt her mother would assume the choice was an effort to pander.

“Good day, Miss Hollis,” the valet said as she entered, and she flashed a smile.

At some point, she was unsure when exactly, the staff had stopped calling her Miss Blake or Lady Blake and started calling her by her surname.

It made her feel older than she thought herself to be, but it also made her feel more important than she was too.

Her mother was Mrs. Hollis. Her father was Mister Hollis.

Her parents had worked hard to get where they were now, but she was just there; the girl with the good fortune to have been born to successful parents.

Upon entering and following the line of the green and yellow carpet runner, she spotted her mother right away.

It was hard to miss the tall, slender woman, with blonde hair styled higher than heaven, and a smile to match.

Her white fascinator was tilted to one side and hid her eyes from Holly’s view, though she must have sensed Holly’s presence in the room with a straightening of her spine.

Her laughter stopped and she twisted her head as though she was ducking below the edge of her headpiece to see.

She excused herself from her conversation and made her way through the crush of people to Holly. She clapped her hands together and skipped-walked across the room, the people parting the sea around her. She was an impressive woman, Holly had to give her mother that much.

“Mother,” she said and they kissed cheeks.

Her mother held Holly’s hands and stood back to get a look at her outfit. “Well, isn’t this a surprise. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it over here today. Your father tells me you have so much work to do with your little ice cream place.”

“It would be easier to finish if you hadn’t cut off my finances.”

“You know very well that I did it for your own good,” she said, even though Holly knew her mother only wanted to bend Holly’s will.

“You look beautiful in this dress.” She pulled her in and whispered into Holly’s ear, “Today of all days, you know better than to show up here dressed like it’s some sort of nightclub.

” Backing off, she plastered a fake grin. “What a happy day it is.”

This was always how it was with her mother. Holly could do nothing right. It was her father who always had Holly’s best interests at heart. “Is Dad here?”

“He’s where he always is: at the bar,” her mother said and rolled her eyes in that direction. “Catch up with me later. I have a surprise for you.”

“Mother, please tell me it’s not some man?”

She responded by miming zipping closed her mouth and walked away.

Holly knew days like today were important for the future of the farm and she knew better than to cause any kind of distraction, but whatever her mother had up her sleeve could threaten to push Holly to the brink.

For now, she would mind her manners. The farm relied on a constant influx of investor’s dollars, and any sucker with enough dough could buy into the idea of owning the next Triple Crown winner.

Today’s event was a show-and-tell, and she knew exactly the part she was required to play.

As much as her mother deserved to be brought down a peg, Holly wouldn’t do anything to risk the business.

“Daddy,” she greeted her father and reached around his torso for a mimosa. “I see you’re getting an early start.”

He held his lowball filled with a finger of scotch and swirled the amber liquid around the glass. “Someone’s got to do the hard work around here.” He chuckled deep down in his chest. “I hate these things,” he spoke softly and raised a brow.

“Me too,” she said, and they turned into the room. “How are you doing, Dad? Mother says you’ve been out of town a lot.”

“She never likes it when I travel too much. You know how she is about planes or trains. If only she could take a horse everywhere.” He raised his glass and greeted an older man with silver hair as he and Holly walked through the crowd, although they spoke like they were the only two in the room.

They stopped in front of the floor to ceiling windows that over-looked the expansive green pastures.

“I’m being tapped by the Reserve for a special project. ”

“Dad, that’s great,” she said and hugged him. “What is it?”

“I can’t really talk about it. But it’s a great opportunity. It also means that I’ll be between here and Manhattan for the rest of the summer and probably into the fall.”

“Even better, I can come into town with you and do some shopping.”

“Will you have much time to travel once the creamery opens?”

Holly hadn’t even considered what her schedule would look like once her shop was open for business. She was so consumed with getting the renovations complete that she failed to think past it. “I suppose I won’t. At least not right away.”

“You’ll find your rhythm soon enough. You know how proud I am that you’re following your own path?”

“Thanks, Dad.” She knew he meant it, though he couldn’t always show it.

“And I’m sorry about the money. I hope you have what you need for now, and this whole thing with your mother will blow over.”

“It’ll blow over when I give in to what she wants. I know it hasn’t been easy between you two since I came back to town.”

“You know she just wants what she thinks is best for you.”

“Yeah, so long as my life looks exactly like hers,” Holly said and took a long sip of her mimosa.

There was nothing wrong with the life her mother had, but raising horses was her mother’s passion, not Holly’s.

Having an appreciation for the creatures would never make up for how much she detested the equestrian business.

“Do you think she’ll ever come around and accept me for me? ”

Her dad chuckled. “Maybe, when she tries your spiced pistachio ice cream?”

Holly clinked her glass against her dad’s and leaned her head on his shoulder.

They watched the horses being led out from the stables and into the pasture.

Their handlers stood just inside the bright white fence that separated the animals from the manicured grounds and directed the horses.

Seeing the unbridled horses run and play among the grasses with the same exuberance and freedom as small children, had always captured her imagination.

Holly felt a connection to a horse’s determination to express their unique personality despite their confined existence.

In her youth, she and Millie experienced a similar joy when they would run alongside the fencing and chase after the horses.

Every day was a day of exploration and ease.

It was no wonder her mother wished Holly to be a part of the business, as she watched her daughter grow up among the stables and dirt tracks of the farm.

“They really are magnificent, aren’t they?” Holly said.

“You’ve always loved this part, even as a little girl, holding on to my neck as I held you up to see over the fences, your eyes would light up, just as they are now,” her dad said and was right. “Everything’s going to work out. You just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll handle your mother.”

“She can’t say no to this face.” Holly pinched her dad’s cheek with her free hand. “Can she?” She hugged her dad from the side while he slipped a wad of folded bills between her fingers and the glass. “Dad?—”

“To get you through the next few days,” he said and winked.

It was uncouth to count the money then and there, but she was sure it looked like several hundred dollars at least. She slid the bills into her dress’ pocket and nodded a thanks to her dad.