The two women looked at each other, the corners of their mouths turning upward. If nothing else, it would be a reprieve from the week’s events, a comical interlude, so they thought.
“Oh, come on, I was trying to rattle his cage,” Booty said soothingly.
“By throwing filth at me?” Renata was so angry that Miss Nasty cowered on Booty’s shoulder.
“He’s in love with you. What better way to hurt him?” Booty didn’t smile when he said this.
“First of all, you disgusting toad, he is not in love with me. He’s only in love with himself. Secondly, you’ve slandered me, and if you ever say anything like that again, I will sue you. I will drive you to your knees, because I won’t give up. I keep a powerful law firm on retainer for just these kinds of cheap shots. So, Booty, you either give me your sources or you get down on your knees.”
By now Joan and Harry stood at the door. They couldn’t help themselves.
Booty, facing outward, saw them, and a helpless look crossed his face.
Miss Nasty was so scared, she threw her skirt over her face.
“If you wear a paper bag with holes in it for your eyes it would be easier,” Pewter jeered.
The monkey pulled down her skirt, glared at the gray cat. Anger overcame fear. “I hope you eat poisoned mice.”
“Who cares what you think or say? Liar. Big liar. You don’t have Joan’s pin. You don’t have any sparkles. All you have is a bunch of dumb dresses and hats.”
Before Miss Nasty could respond with an appropriate vulgarity, Renata pulled out her silvered cell phone and hit a button for automatic dial.
“Who are you calling?”
“My lawyer. You have three rings before she picks up. So on your knees or you’ll be in court, and I swear, Booty, I will drag it on and on until I bleed every penny out of you. You forget, I have the resources to do it, and the will.”
Too late, Booty realized he’d underestimated Renata. He dropped like a sack of grain. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I made it all up. I don’t have any contacts. I will never say anything like that again.”
She stepped toward him, placing her forefinger hard on his Adam’s apple, pressing as he choked. “Keep your word, fool.”
Tears welled in his eyes from the soreness at that pressure point. He coughed as Miss Nasty threw her arms around his neck.
Spinning on her heel, Renata beheld Harry, Joan, Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, Tucker, and Cookie. “I have witnesses. He slandered me. He apologized. If he reneges, I’ll have him for breakfast.”
She walked by them with such energy the little group felt a breeze.
Booty, hand to his throat, stood up.
Harry noticed a darkening mark on his jaw. “You’re toast.” At that moment her admiration for Renata reached the stratosphere.
Tears still in his eyes—he had no idea that one finger could hurt so much—he shook his head, rasping, “It was a joke.”
“Booty, you aren’t Mr. Popularity today.” Joan put her hands on her hips.
“Screwed up.” He wiped away his tears.
“Big-time.” Joan left and the rest with her.
Pewter called over her shoulder, “Liar, liar.”
Miss Nasty, still hugging Booty, didn’t reply.
It took two minutes to get back to Barn Five, where Harry and Joan found Renata calmly drinking a Schweppes tonic water, popping a quinine pill with it.
She lowered the bottle. “I’m glad you saw that.”
“I am, too.” Joan laughed. “I only wish I’d had a picture.”
“He accused me to Charly of being a call girl before I made it. And you know what else?” She laughed derisively. “Charly believed him. Believed him!” Her magical hazel eyes seemed lit from within, the contained emotion was so strong.
“I’m sorry.” Harry couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Joan did. “He’s a shit and you’re well rid of him.”
As Joan rarely used profanity, this electrified the women and animals.
Paul, hearing this, stuck his head out of the hospitality room. “Joan.”
“Sorry, Daddy. I’m glad you’re here.”
He nodded to the others, then turned back to Joan. “You weren’t raised with loose talk, girlie.” He then ducked back in to Mr. Thompson.
Joan whistled low and walked toward the back end of the barn, the rest in tow. “Glad Mother wasn’t in there. I’d have to put smelling salts under her nose.”
“Being a Southern lady takes a boatload of discipline.” Harry laughed, for she, too, had been strictly brought up.
Renata, on the other hand, heard profanity on a daily basis and had to learn to talk and act like a lady. She made a telling comment. “At least someone loved you enough to correct you.”
“I was loved a lot!” Harry laughed, lightening the mood.
“Renata, you know how much is at stake in this show. Booty and Charly fight at every show. Maybe they don’t hit each other, but they try to get under each other’s skin, push the other into a bad ride. It’s silly, but then again, it provides entertainment back at the barns and practice ring, as well as the show ring.”
“Got that right, but I’ll be damned if Booty is going to smear my name to do it.”
“Would you sue him?” Harry was leery of lawyers and courtrooms. She believed the Spanish proverb “Better to fall into the hands of the devil than lawyers.”
“Unto my last breath, and I would hurt him in other ways. I’d take every client he had out of that barn, one way or the other. His revenue stream would become a trickle and then dry to dust.” She stopped a moment. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry on a lot of levels. I’ve caused you both time and trouble. I’m not always like this. These last couple of years I’ve been slipping and sliding. Not just in my career. I need to come back to my real self.”
“Your real self is pretty impressive,” Joan wryly commented.
Renata tossed her head; her hair swung back over her shoulders. “I come from a different place than you all do. It taught me a couple of things that maybe you know and maybe you don’t. But I’ll tell you, if you let one person push you around, sooner or later everyone will try. It’s harder being a woman. You have to bite a man bad, then he realizes you’ve got fangs and he backs off. We’re just a bunch of animals. If you look weak, you die. That’s how I see it.”
“Truth to that.” Mrs. Murphy closely observed the great beauty.
“Most humans don’t want to deal with it. They think they can negotiate things.” Tucker was thoughtful.
“I reckon for most Americans that works. We live good lives, soft even.” Cookie, too, was thoughtful.
“Yep, but when the trappings of civilization are stripped away, it’s kill or be killed.” Pewter was adamant. “And I will kill Miss Nasty.”
Mrs. Murphy, Tucker, and Cookie chose to say nothing about Miss Nasty. There’d been enough fits already.
Joan took out the handkerchief from the pocket of her linen jacket, to fan herself. “That’s why we need good friends. Friends protect one another. The government doesn’t do squat.” She shrugged. “It’s friends that save you. And if you have a good family, they save you, too. Once people start talking about the big things, I can care but I don’t see that I can do much.” She looked straight at Renata. “But I can do for you, for Larry, for Harry, and what I tell you, Renata, is keep riding. Make movies until you’re sick of it, but don’t let people know what you really think like you just told us. People live in a bubble. They see the world the way they want to see it, not the way it is.”
“I know.” Renata nodded. “I do know that.”
“Anything or anyone that disturbs the bubble becomes a bad person. You’re in the public eye, so you have to be a good person.” Joan fanned Renata, then Harry.
“You don’t think we can work together? I mean, work together as a nation?” Harry plaintively asked.