Vermont Escape

by Marsha R West

  She jerked awake. Her heart beat at a frantic rate. Tears bathed her pillow. Morning light filtered in between a crack in the curtains.

  So much for a restful night.

  Chapter Five

  WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH

  Jill raised her hand to her mouth, but the giggle bubbled out followed by another. Signing day finally had arrived.

  Gary and Michelle flew into Hartford yesterday, rented a car, and drove in to Woodstock in the evening. They were staying at the inn. Neither Ethan nor Ellen could rearrange their schedules to come. Overcoming her disappointment at their absence, Jill practically skipped up the steps to the Inn. Sparklers flicked along inside her veins. She wouldn’t be satisfied if her Texas folks didn’t like Woodstock, her store, her new friends.

  “Good morning. Don’t you love this place?” Jill hugged Michelle, a brunette, even shorter than Jill, and then Gary before they entered the restaurant for breakfast. “How were your rooms? Did you sleep well? Did you have everything you needed?”

  “Fine, fine. Hey, have they hired you to be their new PR woman?” Michelle teased.

  Jill laughed, and asked the hostess if they could have one of the tables overlooking the grounds. The woman nodded and led the way.

  “You have to remember I’ve stayed here a lot. It’s almost a second home to me. I eat here often and attend meetings here. Sometimes I come to sit and stare at the visitors wondering what brings them.”

  She picked up the menu, her stomach so full of butterflies, she didn’t know if she’d be able to swallow a mouthful, but she knew exactly what she wanted. The blueberry pancakes. “Everything is excellent. You’ll be happy with whatever you select.”

  “You’re sure they’re not paying you?” Gary’s mustache twitched, and part of a smile snuck out. “If I ever feel I’m falling short on work, I know who to enlist to bring in more clients.” He turned his cup up, and the server came right over.

  “Wait until you taste their coffee. It’s the best.”

  At that, Michele and Gary laughed at her.

  “Okay, okay. Perhaps I’ve been going on a bit much. Must be nerves. I can’t believe we’re going through with the deal today.”

  “Ya think you’ve been going on a bit?” Gary shook his head at her then raised his cup. “Umm. This does smell good.”

  “I want you to love Woodstock the way I do.”

  “Honey, I don’t think anyone can love it to the extent you apparently do.” Michelle reached across the table and squeezed Jill’s hand. “You seem happy. Are you? Really?”

  “Yes. I am. Oh, I miss you two, and I hope we still visit the way we have while we’ve been getting the sale put together. I can hardly wait for you to see the store.”

  “How many—?”

  “I get a warm, peaceful welcome whenever I walk in. All sorts of people come through the doors. You’ll love Sally. She’s been a Godsend.”

  “What—” Gary began.

  “I probably couldn’t have done this if she hadn’t been willing to stay on. She’s getting things ready so after we sign the papers, we’ll all go over there for a celebration. It means everything to me you came.”

  Jill raised both hands in front of her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. My excitement ran away with me. I haven’t let either of you get a word in.” She leaned back. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Your turn.”

  “Well, I’m pretty hungry.” Gary placed his menu on the tablecloth and looked around for the server. “Are we going to order or not?” Jill and Michelle laughed out loud. They had almost finished breakfast when Gary cleared his throat. “I have an announcement to make.”

  “Please don’t tell me I’ve lost all my money and won’t be able to buy the store.” Jill fanned her face in mock southern bell manner.

  “No. That’s not it. Today is a day for good news. Michelle and I weren’t sure if you’d have heard already. No telling how much you get on the news about Texas way up here in New England.”

  “You’re a crazy man, Gary Myers. What are you talking about?” Jill looked between her two friends.

  “I told you it appeared the gambling bill might fail. Well, I was correct. It went down big time. It was the last item they handled before the end of session May 31. Many of the speeches proclaimed the reason was your father and his long years of work. Made me proud to have known him.” Under his mustache, Gary’s grin was wide. “Great news, huh?”

  Her blood froze. She fought a physical tremble. She nodded. No words could get past her tight lips. She dug deep for the resources to relax her muscles and unclench her teeth. “This is wonderful. I appreciate you making sure I knew. I hadn’t heard.”

  She struggled to swallow the bile rising in the back of her throat. God, this was not the time or place to be sick. Her stomach pitched. “Excuse me for a minute.”

  Gary stood and held her chair. She flew out of the dining room and around the corner toward the women’s restrooms. She barely made it to a stall before throwing up her breakfast and half her stomach lining. After the heaves subsided, she rested her forehead against the cool of the stall door. She staggered out to the sink, rinsed her mouth, and put a wet paper towel across the back of her neck.

  “Damn, damn, damn.” Of all days to hear this. She never wanted to hear it, but today was supposed to be about celebrating her joy at the purchase of Crystal Rainbows. Somehow, she had to pull herself together. She couldn’t let on how much this bothered her. Her friends wouldn’t understand, and she wasn’t able to deal with the questions they’d throw at her. Jill sure didn’t want her Woodstock friends dragged into all of this.

  She looked in the mirror. Her eyes were wet, but only slightly bloodshot. Color returned to her face. A few eye drops and a touch more lipstick, and she’d do fine. This was an important day to her, and damn it to hell, she wasn’t going to let Richardson steal it from her. He’d taken so much already. She squared her shoulders and marched out to meet Gary and Michelle.

  “Okay, let’s go sign those papers.” She linked arms with them and hurried out of the inn toward the title company office.

  Anne and her accountant were already there, and Jill made the introductions. Almost everyone had talked to each other on the phone, but this was the first time they’d met in person. A title company representative asked them all to sit down. They signed and initialed the reams of paper required for the sale. Jill took a cashier’s check from Gary, walked around the table, and handed it to Anne.

  “I’ll take good care of the shop for you.”

  Tears glistened in Anne’s eyes. Jill understood how hard turning loose of something you loved was. “I promise you.”

  “I know you will, dear.” Anne rose and held out her hand with the keys. “These are now officially yours, I believe.”

  Jill hugged her. She pumped her hand holding the keys high in the air and spun in circles. “WhooHoo! I’m a storeowner. Everyone, please come over to Crystal Rainbows for the official celebration.”

  They’d decided against closing the store. If people came in, they’d join in the festivities. A couple of bunches of balloons filled two of the corners of the shop, but Jill had decided to let the store speak for itself. Sally had arranged delivery of those and a large cake. Though it was a few minutes before noon, champagne corks popped and everyone applauded.

  “I want to make a toast.” Jill raised her voice. “All of you were not initially thrilled by the idea of me buying this shop.” She paused, and her gaze picked out Gary and moved to Michelle, flicked to Jerrod and then settled back on her two friends. “So, I’m especially grateful for how hard you worked to make this happen. Thank you.”

  She turned to the former owner. “To you, Anne, I lift this glass for all the years you’ve spent building the shop into a reputable establishment. I give you my word I’ll do everything I can to carry on your tradition. You’ll never have to be sorry you sold Crystal Rainbows to me. To Anne Phillips.”

  Responses of “Hear, hear!” and “To An
ne!” filled the room. Jill moved through the crowd receiving pats on the back, congratulations, and enjoying the way everyone got along.

  She caught Jerrod’s look. He raised his glass to her and tipped his head. His lips curved upward in a nicely-done-smile. Maybe they could be friends. No question, he was handsome, and she’d observed he was a caring man. Could they get past their rotten beginning?

  Despite the little trilling along her veins whenever she came upon him unexpectedly, she’d limit her dealings with him. Besides him being a politician, she was too busy with her store to have time to work on any kind of a relationship.

  That’s right. Her store. Crystal Rainbows.

  WEDNESDAY, JULY 4

  Jill breathed in the refreshing air. Could it be this gorgeous in July? The temperature had dropped to the mid-fifties the night before and that afternoon had only risen to the low eighties. The Livingston and Philips families were gathered in Anne’s large back yard, and Jill had told them about how she celebrated the Fourth in Fort Worth.

  “How could you possibly stand to be outside much less picnicking when the thermometer reached 110?” Anne protested.

  “Well, we slathered on tons of sun block and never strayed far from the pool, but yeah, I remember a lot of those days. The worst was climbing into your car when the inside thermometer read 116. It completely drained your energy. You can understand why I’m celebrating this sparkling July day.”

  “You’re becoming a true Vermonter, Jill.” Tim tipped his beer bottle in her direction. “On behalf of the town council, I thank you for your words of praise for our small part of America.”

  “We pay for this, don’t forget, Tim.” Jerrod said. “Our winters can be something else.”

  “Don’t scare her, Dad,” Liz punched her father on the arm. “We want her to stay.”

  “Every place has its highs and lows.” Her brother Don leaned forward for more shrimp dip. “I was in Texas near Austin earlier this spring. Those blue flowers lining the highways mile after mile make up for a lot of your blistering hot summer days.”

  Jill swallowed convulsively then gulped in air, forced herself to speak. “Yeah, we’re pretty proud of our bluebonnets. Everybody takes a stab at painting those gorgeous fields. Camera happy folks become a real menace when they stop along the roads to plop their small children and puppies into the middle of a blanket of blue trying for the perfect picture.” She held her plastic cup out to Liz who refilled it with iced tea.

  “Thanks. We took a photo when Ellen and Ethan were six and turned it into a painting. It used to hang in the dining room. It’s in storage now.”

  Jill had rambled on about bluebonnets, while one part of her brain chewed on Don’s comment about being in Texas. Surely, that would be too much of a coincidence for him to know anything about her father. He couldn’t have anything to do with the gambling consortium, could he? However, somebody in the FBI must have for her father’s murder to fall so quickly on the heels of his turning over the information to an agent.

  For a moment, sadness overcame her, a lump filled up her throat, and she had to get away before anyone saw the tears forming. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  Jill hurried through the back door and got to the powder room before they flowed. She’d been so busy and excited about everything, she hadn’t cried in quite a while. Tears fell for George and her father and their lost family. She had to pull herself together. If Don were involved, she couldn’t let on she suspected him. Thank God, he wasn’t around much. She’d pretend nothing was a problem. She’d be able to do that. Couldn’t she?

  Jill splashed water on her face, patted it dry, and refreshed her lip color from the tube she carried in the pocket of her white slacks. She moved into the hall going toward the kitchen. A dark mass appeared in front of her. She stumbled back.

  “Oh.” Her hand flew up to her chest where her heart kicked up a thundering beat.

  “Sorry.” Jerrod reached out to steady her, his hands warm on her arms. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed upset before you came in.”

  “It was nothing. Silly really. Suddenly, I missed the kids.”

  He dropped his hands but didn’t back up. The hall appeared to have shrunk since she walked through earlier. Of course, she knew it hadn’t. Jerrod’s broad shoulders filled the space. She didn’t care for the little fluttery feeling low in her middle his nearness caused. She was way past the age for this kind of reaction. He was the last person on earth she should be having these inappropriate feelings about. Way too soon.

  Besides, the man didn’t like her. He managed to be polite now, always polite, but she sensed a subtle hostility underlying every exchange. Not the way he’d been in the beginning, she admitted, but still... Why didn’t he say something? Standing in the hall staring at each other this way didn’t make sense. Damn her out of control breathing. The shallow breaths made her head spin a bit.

  AS IF UNDER ITS OWN control, Jerrod’s hand lifted, and he just stopped it from touching her golden blonde hair. His gut tightened. He yanked his arm away. Denying his feelings wasn’t working. He wanted to kiss this Texan, who’d come to play a part in their lives. The woman he’d accused of murder. Her eyes opened wider, while he struggled to do what he knew he should, rather than what he wanted to do.

  “I’ll fix the strawberries, you start dishing up the ice cream, Don.”

  Sounds of Liz from the kitchen penetrated the haze of his lust, and he stopped.

  “I don’t want it to melt. I’ll get the bowls. You get the fruit ready, and then I’ll dish. Didn’t Dad come in here?” Don asked.

  Jerrod swallowed, pulled his gaze away from the temptation of Jill’s lips. He raised his voice. “Yeah, I’m here. I can help.” He turned toward the kitchen and left Jill in the hallway.

  “Strawberries smell great. We can both cut. It’ll go faster,” he told his daughter.

  “Oh, hey, Jill. I think everyone wanted fruit on top, but can you double check for me?” Liz cut a large ripe berry into four pieces.

  “Sure.” She breezed through to the outside with hardly a glance in his direction.

  His daughter cut a look at Don before she spoke.

  “So, Dad, I like Jill, don’t you?” She stared at him her eyebrows raised in question.

  Don’s mouth turned down, and he shrugged. “It’s her deal. I’m scooping the ice cream, nothing else.”

  Finally, Jerrod found words. “Yeah, hon. Jill seems to be taking good care of Mother’s store.” Seemed a safe enough response to make while he tried to tamp down the crazy desire he had to get into the Texan’s pants.

  The back door opened, and the woman in question reentered.

  “Everybody but your brother wants strawberries. The last comment I heard was, ‘Could you do this any faster?’”

  Liz laughed. “What? Of course, no one has eaten anything this entire day.”

  The four people worked in tandem, cutting, scooping, and taking bowls outside until everyone had his own dish and had settled in the Adirondack chairs under the trees.

  “What do you think of your first New England Fourth of July celebration, Jill?” Karen licked her spoon.

  “The gathering at the Billings’ Farm was pretty amazing. I loved the high school band playing patriotic songs. The best part for me was the reading of the Declaration of Independence with all the flags flapping in the breeze. Definitely a chill bump moment.”

  “We’ll go back out for the fireworks later tonight. It’s always spectacular.” Liz finished the last bite of her strawberries and ice cream with a long sigh.

  Gently the early evening turned into night. Jerrod couldn’t remember a nicer holiday. Could his enjoyment be related to the Texan who’d bought his mother’s store?

  Deciding how to drive back to the farm for the fireworks in the least number of cars took a few minutes.

  “Well, I can take our crew and one more. Why don’t you ride with us, Mitch?” Tim asked.<
br />
  “No thanks. I’m going to pass on any more red, white, and blue. Got enough of that earlier today. See you around.”

  Jerrod didn’t say anything, but his brother probably had a game of chance waiting. The man was sick, not that Mitch would admit he had a problem.

  “Grandma, you ride in the front with me. Dad, you, Jill, and Don take the back.”

  If his daughter hadn’t questioned him about Jill earlier, he wouldn’t have suspected she had ulterior motives for the arrangement of people in her vehicle. When he slid in next to Jill who was sitting in the middle, his thigh brushed against hers. Damn, he didn’t know if he was glad the ride was short, or he wished they had farther to go.

  They sat in the stands for the fireworks display. Everyone “oohed,” and “ahed.” He’d managed to keep Jill beside him, but maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. When she shivered from the coolness of the summer night, he draped his jacket across her shoulders, reluctantly removing his arm. What he’d wanted to do was pull her close. He was just nuts.

  Close to eleven, they rolled up in front of his mother’s. They’d told the Livingstons goodbye after the fireworks at the farm.

  “What a terrific day, Anne. Thank you for including me.” Jill hugged his mother. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, dear. Now, Jerrod, you walk Jill home.”

  “It’s not—”

  “No arguing about this allowed. Don, are you staying here or bunking at Liz’s?”

  “I’ll hang with her, Grandma. Need to make sure she isn’t getting into any trouble.” Anne kissed both her grandkids and him and gave Jill another hug. “Good night all. I had a wonderful day.”

  They stood on the steps, watched her go in, and waited until the lock clicked.

  After brief goodbyes to his kids, Jill and he walked down Church Street and turned on Central. Festooned in red, white, and blue bunting, the old-fashioned streetlights cast a soft glow across the grounds of homes and businesses. Neither of them broke the companionable silence. Pleasant Street was just that.