Рита Браун - Whisker Of Evil

Jim, favoring a Diplomatico, answered Herb. “Tito. The tobacco store by Giant Food carries them. Don’t know if the tobacco shop in Barracks Road has them. I’ll have to check. Quite a good smoke, isn’t it?”

“And I imagine expensive?” Herb admired the dark wrapper leaves on the Tito.

“Eight dollars and forty cents. Granted, that’s not your White Owl”—he mentioned a very cheap cigar but a consistent one in that you always knew what you’d be getting—“but when you think of the inflated cost of these contraband Cuban cigars, the Tito is good. I think it’s a spectacular cigar, myself.”

Blair, not really a cigar smoker, bravely puffed away on a mild Macanudo and said, “How much is a Cuban cigar?”

“Depends on the size.” Tavener held out the Cohiba with the distinctive yellow, white, and black band. “Depends on your source. Hazarding a guess, this cigar probably runs between seventy-five and one hundred dollars.”

“That bad?” Fair had selected a Diplomatico, a cigar with an enticing flavor and also a Cuban.

“Well, I have my sources, which I will never ever tell, but I pay a little less,” Jim responded. “Now, off the record, since I’m an elected official, this damned embargo is a crock. Hell, even when the embargo was first enacted, Jack Kennedy was sitting up there in the White House smoking Cuban cigars. For one thing I don’t like paying way more than something is worth, and for another thing I don’t like breaking the law.”

“The same argument could be used for legalizing drugs,” Tavener said.

“It could.” Big Jim exhaled a tongue of blue smoke. “Can’t enforce the law, so what good is it?”

“Meaning you can’t control human behavior.” Herb watched the women walking among Big Mim’s roses.

“Precisely,” Tavener replied.

“Sets me to thinking of old man Noah again.” Herb smiled at Blair, who was clearly not enjoying his too-strong cigar. “Son, put that thing down. We won’t tell.” He then returned to Noah. “The Lord put up a rainbow as a covenant and said He wouldn’t send another flood to destroy mankind again. And He knew it wouldn’t do but so much good.”

“Meaning we were all at it soon enough.” Fair nodded.

“Wickedness. What’s interesting about wickedness is how it differs from century to century and from culture to culture,” Herb said.

“Killing has always been regarded as wicked unless committed during war, and even then one is only to kill the uniformed enemy.” Blair put the cigar in a big crystal ashtray.

“Well, what about religious killing? A Muslim fanatic kills Christians. He believes he’ll go to Allah and also be rewarded with sixty or seventy virgins. I forget the number.” Herb waved his cigar.

“One would be enough.” Tavener laughed, as did the other men.

“All that responsibility!” Fair tapped ash into one of the large crystal ashtrays.

“Women are a responsibility whether virgin or slightly used.” Tavener noticed the last rays of the sun washing the stable and outbuildings. “A woman can send you to heaven or consign you to hell.”

“I wouldn’t trade one minute of my life with my wife.” Herb said this with feeling. His wife had succumbed to cancer a few years ago.

“I agree. I could kill Mim sometimes, but she made a man out of me,” Jim said.

“Maybe you’ll find someone again, Herb,” Fair simply stated.

“Maybe,” Herb said noncommittally. “But I think Blair’s—well, Blair, you tell us.”

The men focused on the handsome model.

He stammered a moment, then surprised even himself with his firm reply. “Any man who could spend a lifetime with Little Mim would be a lucky man.” He call Marilyn by her nickname, as did everyone.

“Indeed.” Fair seconded this, as did the other men.

“She’s spoiled.” Her father smiled. “My fault.”

“It’s hard not to spoil a daughter.” Bill Langston shrugged. “Just an observation. Hope I have a daughter someday.”

“I’ll do my best to spoil Marilyn even more.” Blair smiled, a genuine one.

As Blair had not yet asked for Marilyn’s hand in marriage, this declaration surely meant the time would be forthcoming.

Fair stepped in to save Blair an embarrassing question in case one of the gentlemen forgot himself. “You know I feel the same way about Harry. I sinned. I repented. I need you all to help me win her back, all the way back.”

“Ah.” Herb again closed his eyes from the pleasure of his cigar, then opened them wide. “The way to win back your ex-wife is to work with her on the farm. Other women are wooed by words and flowers, but Harry is wooed by work and, well, I suppose a few flowers wouldn’t hurt.”

“Do you really think so?” asked Bill Langston, new to the community as Hayden McIntire’s new partner in family practice.

“Known her since she was born.” Herb nodded.

“As have I,” Jim said.

“And I.” Tavener nodded, as well.

“Herb’s right. Work is the way to Harry’s heart.”

“I think I knew that.” Fair, too, noticed the incredibly beautiful gold and scarlet light. “But I’m working morning, noon, and night.”

“It’s time for you to take a business partner. I mean that.” Jim held up his hand to silence Fair, who had started to speak. “The money. I know. And for the first year you will make less money, perhaps. But, Fair, you’re killing yourself. If you took on one or two partners you could expand your practice beyond equine reproduction. All these new people that we’ve been talking about at dinner come here and, what’s the first thing they want, a horse. There are only so many vets to go around, and you and Tavener are so specialized and at the top of your professions that you’re going to miss the wave. What do you think, Tav?”

“You’re one hundred percent right. I’m close to retirement or I’d follow your advice.”

“I’ve heard the retirement speech before.” Fair smiled.

“Well, I mean it.” Tavener reached for his glass of port.

“Fair, come talk to me,” Jim advised.

“I will.”

Jim stood up as the ladies were walking toward them. “Ladies, we need some uplift here.”

Tally sassed, “Buy a bra.”

Big Mim rolled her eyes as everyone giggled.

“Does he ever rest?” Tazio asked Big Mim, as she watched Paul de Silva walk out into a paddock to check on a mare and foal.

“My beloved niece is a slave driver.” Tally said this without a scrap of self-consciousness.

“We’re here!” all the dogs shouted as they raced around the lawn.

“I am not a slave driver. Paul loves his work.” Big Mim turned to Tazio. “Would you be interested in designing a stable, or is that too small a commission?”

“I’d love to work with you,” Tazio replied. “I need to study equine behavior, though. I’m not a horsewoman.”

“Well, that’s fine.” Big Mim smiled.

“I’ll walk you down to Paul. Why not start right now? I know some of what Mother wants, and Paul knows the rest.” Little Mim was anxious to escape her mother’s grasp.

Brinkley happily tagged along with Tazio, his sun and moon.

Herb winked at Harry, which meant he had something to tell her and would at the first opportunity. He wanted to tell her what Blair had said. Perhaps the old farm could be purchased from Blair.

A few moments passed, then they heard one shot from behind the stables. The dogs started barking.

“Tucker, stay here,” Harry commanded.

“I will, but I think you’re being mean.” Tucker resigned herself.

Little Mim and Tazio hurried up over the pastures and onto the lawn, Brinkley running alongside.

“Fair and Tavener, we need you!” Little Mim was flushed.