Vermont Escape

by Marsha R West

  “The doctor said you’d heal better, faster, and with less discomfort in a warmer climate. You’ll be able to exercise more in the Keys than here. Please come and stay for a couple of months until the worst of the winter is over. Isn’t that what Ethan wants you to do?”

  “Yes.” God, she dragged the word out like a teenager caught in a lie. “He mentioned it before he left.” Her son had more than mentioned the subject. He’d practically made her swear she’d go, but she didn’t want to. Jill collapsed into a chair. No energy. Damn. Healing and regaining her strength would take time.

  Ellen was right. Dr. Sanders did recommend she go to Florida when he learned her daughter lived there.

  Jill hadn’t seen much of Jerrod. The Assembly would begin in a few weeks, and he already had committee meetings to attend in the capitol. That’s the way it had been with Dad. She should go with Ellen. Hadn’t she had her fill of politicians?

  Jill sighed her acceptance. Time away would be healing for more than her body.

  “Ellen. Thank you. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’ll spend a couple of months with you but promise you won’t treat me like a guest.”

  “I will treat you like a guest.” Her daughter gingerly hugged her. Was Ellen afraid she’d break into parts? Ellen laughed and said, “But only until you’re able to do more for yourself, then you’ll have to carry your own weight. Okay?”

  “It’s a deal. I can’t get out of here for a while. How much longer can you stay?”

  “I have to go back to work right away, Mom.” Her daughter’s face scrunched into worry lines.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. I understand.” Jill rubbed Ellen’s shoulder. “You’ve already been here longer than I hoped. You head home, and I’ll be on my way by next Tuesday at the latest. How’s that sound?”

  “You’ll shake?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  Ellen huffed a sigh of relief, and the lines on her face flattened out.

  Jill drew in a shaky breath. Trapped. No changing her mind now. She’d never gone back on a promise to her kids.

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7

  The three days dragged for Jill. Getting out of bed took longer. The simple act of brushing her teeth took longer. And emptying the dishwasher? A non-starter.

  She tired quickly and needed to rest often. She’d never been a person to take a nap, but promptly at three, she curled up on the sofa in her living room. The glowing embers of the fire added to the warmth of a multi-colored afghan thrown across her legs.

  Stopping by the store for an hour one morning, she found nothing to do. Sally and Mary Ann handled things beautifully. Her plan, devised in case she had to run, worked. Thank God, she hadn’t needed to. Leaving now was different.

  Jill still blamed herself for causing Mitch’s death. Had she not come to Vermont, maybe Jerrod’s brother would be alive. Yesterday, Karen had stopped by to help her finish packing. Ellen was pleased when Jill called to say she’d arrive several days earlier than promised. The cold did make her ache more. Besides who could argue against the Florida Keys in December?

  Only someone who was foolishly in love with the snow. And perhaps Jerrod?

  “You’ve made the right decision to stay with Ellen for a while.” Karen drove them out of Woodstock early Friday morning, because the flight took off from Hartford at nine-thirty. “The warmer temperatures and swimming will be good for you.”

  “Yes. I get what you’re saying in my head, but I was committed to staying the whole winter. Jerrod made such a fuss about my not being able to do that when we first met. I hate how my going proves him right.”

  “Jerrod, huh?”

  “You know he was rude to me in the beginning, Karen, and went on and on about how I couldn’t possibly get through a Vermont winter. I guess he had me figured out, after all.” Jill looked out the side widow and fought the trembling in her lip.

  She’d cried enough in the hospital.

  A social worker came to talk to her after the shooting and explained the emotional turmoil she experienced was natural. She’d gone through a traumatic event, and crying was a good way to cope. Well, not in Jill’s book. It didn’t do one damned bit of good. Still the tears seemed to have a life of their own and came when least expected.

  “Did you?”

  “Huh?” She must’ve drifted off. What had Karen said? “I’m sorry. Occasionally, I check out. Another side effect of the anesthesia, or trauma, or...something. What did you say?”

  “I asked if you saw Jerrod before we left to tell him goodbye. Did you make plans when you’d see each other next?”

  “I didn’t see him, but I called. He didn’t answer. I left a message.” Jill clamped her hands together. “So, of course, we made no plans. In fact, I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

  “But you’re coming back, aren’t you, Jill? I understood this was only a temporary trip, until your health improves.”

  “Yes.” Jill’s fingers had grown numb. She needed to relax the death grip on her hands. She carefully wiggled her fingers, flexing them in their leather gloves in front of the heater vents. Why couldn’t Karen let this go?

  “So how is it you two will never see each other again? Woodstock isn’t a large town. You’re friends with his mother and take Pilates from his daughter.” Karen linked her arguments together.

  “There’s the sign for the turnoff to the airport.”

  “Got it.” Karen smoothly swung into the lane leading to the departure gates. “I’m still waiting for an answer.”

  “Well, when I return, he’ll be busy with the Assembly in Montpelier for the rest of the spring, and I’ll need to spend a lot of time at the store, catching up. So...”

  “If you care for this man, and you do, you’ll have to deal with him and your feelings when you return. Jerrod’s got those stubborn Phillips’ genes. He won’t be ignored.”

  Jill couldn’t decide if Karen’s assessment made her feel good, or if it scared her to death. However, after what they’d all been through, nothing would ever scare her to death again.

  She’d experienced facing death, and she’d survived.

  Karen’s comments revived memories of the night Jill and Jerrod made love in front of the fire in his house. The warm tingling low in her middle must be an omen something positive was possible where they were concerned. A part of her hoped he wouldn’t let her ignore him. For now, though, she’d put him out of her mind. She had a trip in front of her and a body in need of warmth, comforting down time, and healing.

  She hugged Karen, thanked her for everything, promised to keep in touch, and headed to the baggage check-in. The plane took off into the gray, overcast skies. An ache filled the emptiness in Jill’s middle. She’d miss the next snowstorm.

  MONDAY, DECEMBER 24

  Jill was frankly amazed at the improvement in her health in the two weeks she’d spent in Marathon. She walked every day, exercised in the pool, and soaked in the hot tub. Ellen’s physician, Dr. Sullivan, told Jill she’d be able to take on the ocean in a couple more weeks. She was eating well, too. She and Ellen took turns grilling fish for their evening meal, challenging each other to outdo the offerings of the previous night.

  For Christmas tomorrow, they’d planned a more traditional meal. Ethan hadn’t been able to get away, so they were using a turkey breast instead of cooking the whole bird. They had the makings for all the rest, including the pumpkin pie made from her mother’s recipe.

  Because she’d limited her shopping trips to grocery runs, Jill ordered her gifts on line. Not the personal touch she liked to have, but for this year, it worked.

  Jill dithered for quite a time about what, if anything, to get Jerrod. She hoped he liked what she’d finally decided on. They had no commitment to each other. Other than the one she was afraid her heart had made.

  And to a politician. What was she thinking? She and the family had suffered enough because of their connection to politics. She strongly believed in the adage “to those whom much is g
iven much is expected.” Hadn’t they given enough already? She hoped so. Jill considered the hours she’d spent mulling over the gift itself. Finally, she’d settled on a book, which seemed impersonal, but it was a listing of humorous “facts” about Vermont. The saying Karen had told her about the snow blowers was in there.

  One of Jill’s favorites was, “The driving is better in winter because the potholes get filled with snow.” She also loved, “You know you live in Vermont if you have more miles on your snow blower than your car.” She’d inscribed it simply. “Miss you all and the snow.” The “all” was kind of a cop out, but—

  “Hey, Mom. You okay? I’ve been trying to get your attention. If you need to stay home, we can.”

  Ellen hadn’t always had the worry lines above her nose that seemed to have sprung out overnight.

  Her fault.

  Jill pulled herself to her feet and pushed the corners of her lips upward into something she hoped would pass for a smile.

  “Sorry dear. Your beautiful ocean view must have lulled me into a kind of stupor. I’m fine. Let’s go.” She looped her arm through her daughter’s, and they set off together for the Christmas Eve service.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  TUESDAY, DECEMBER 25

  Christmas Day dawned picture perfect in Woodstock, Vermont. Thirty-two degrees with no wind. Mid-morning, Jerrod trudged through the snow from his house to his mother’s. Smoke from fireplaces filled the air and tweaked his nose. Don had arrived yesterday and spent the night at his grandmother’s. Liz’s call fifteen minutes ago to see what was keeping “good ol’ Dad” made Jerrod get his act together and head over.

  It would be a bittersweet holiday. Mitch had seldom been home at Christmas, but still this was the first one since his death.

  Jerrod glanced down the street toward Rainbow Reflections. Much had changed since his mother sold her store. Dust Mop never got out any more, which was maybe the only good thing. A long sigh blew white vapor in front of his face.

  Jill was a good thing, but she was in the Florida Keys with Ellen. He couldn’t imagine not having a white Christmas, but people in other parts of the country routinely celebrated without snow.

  His mother’s tree stood in its traditional place in the front window. The sparkling red, green, and yellow lights reflected on the white coverlet of snow in the yard. Snow flocked the evergreens, and the red bow on the mailbox at the sidewalk made the setting almost perfect.

  “Merry Christmas, Dad.” Liz threw her arms around him after he entered. “I was afraid you’d gotten lost.” She helped him with his coat and brushed off the snow.

  Her teasing brought an almost contented smile to his face. “Merry Christmas. I was enjoying our town this morning. Nothing like a brisk walk on a cold day to get my appetite ready for your grandmother’s dinner. Well, Don. What are you doing?” Jerrod nodded toward the large chef’s apron his son wore.

  “Be careful.” Don stepped away from Jerrod’s hug. “Grandmother’s got me helping with the dough for the rolls.”

  “Don.” His grandmother’s voice came from the back of the house.

  “Guess I’m needed.”

  Jerrod laid a hand on his son’s arm to stop him. “How does she seem to be holding up?”

  “She’s doing well.” He winked. “Coming.” Long strides carried him toward the kitchen.

  “Nobody else is here yet, huh?” His mother had invited the Livingstons, but their car wasn’t out front.

  “No, but they’re on their way. Karen begged so much to bring the sweet potatoes Grandmother finally relented. I suspect she wanted to do everything to keep busy.”

  “Yeah.” Jerrod threw an arm around Liz’s shoulder. “Let’s go see if we can talk her into letting us help.”

  The day was great. Outstanding food, of course. Few cooks were of his mother’s caliber. Tim, Karen, and their kids helped break the tension. The talk flowed smoothly through the meal.

  He and Tim were in the middle of a conversation about a proposed bill’s possible effect on veterinarians.

  “Don’t you, Dad?”

  “I’m sorry, Liz. What?”

  “I said it was thoughtful of Jill to send a Christmas gift, and I really wish she were here. Then I said, Don’t you, Dad?”

  It seemed everyone at the table focused on him. His heartbeat skipped, his breathing got shallow. He’d give almost anything to have Jill sitting here next to him for this holiday. But she couldn’t be, and he didn’t know if she’d want to. His fingers clenched around the napkin in his lap. Hell, how was he expected to answer?

  “Dad?”

  Liz was nothing if not persistent. He needed to come up with an answer. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “I’m sure she’d want to be with her children.” He managed the statement in a flat tone, not giving away the churning in his gut about the woman.

  “Ethan couldn’t get away to spend the holiday with them. He’d taken so much time earlier this fall because of everything going on with the family.” She turned back to her plate.

  “And you would know that how, little sister?” Don leaned his elbows on the table and speared her with a speculative gaze.

  “Because I’ve talked with him.”

  Despite Liz’s attempt at nonchalance, the people at the table dropped their interest in Jerrod and moved to his daughter with much teasing from her brother and a few blushes on her part.

  Jerrod sipped his wine grateful he avoided what could have been an awkward situation. He glanced at his mother. A smile emphasized the lines in her face, but she seemed to be enjoying the good-natured family banter. He was relieved at how well she was handling the holiday. Only once had she brushed away a tear.

  LATER IN THE EVENING Jerrod propped his feet on the hearth in his living room, leaned back in the chair, and took a sip from his wine glass. Memories of sitting with Jill almost overwhelmed him––her scent, the feel of her soft skin, the way she sucked in a breath when he kissed her behind the ear.

  Damn, he wanted to hear her voice. He should’ve called her earlier, but... They were in the same time zone. Maybe she hadn’t gone to sleep yet. The word brought to mind the times she’d lain in his bed both before and after the truck ran Karen and her off the road. He groaned. What the hell was wrong with him to wait so late? He grabbed his cell and tapped her name on the list of contacts. It rang once, twice, and he formulated what message he’d leave.

  “Hello?”

  Her voice sounded sleepy and strained. Hell, he should’ve realized his calling this hour would startle her.” It’s me, Jerrod. Sorry if I woke you.”

  “Jerrod.”

  Was that excitement he heard or was it wishful thinking on his part? “Thank you for the book. I’ve had several good chuckles from it already.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. The silk scarf is beautiful.”

  “It’s to wear when you return and to remind you of me.” Was he pushing too much?

  “Thank you. I love the colors and feel of the material.”

  “How are you doing? Healing going okay?” His gut clenched. He didn’t know if he’d ever get the picture out of his mind of her lying on the ground with blood leaking from her body making bright red splotches before melting into the white snow.

  “Yes, the doctor here says I’m making good progress.”

  “I’m relieved to hear the report.” He paused, and then said softer. “I’ve been worried about you.” He rubbed a hand through his beard, picturing how white her skin had been in the hospital bed.

  “Thanks, Jerrod. I’m doing fine.”

  Her soft breathing carried through his cell. Now what should he say?

  “Do you have snow?” Jill’s voice had a wistful quality.

  “Yeah, great billowy flakes. Been coming down all day. Wish you were here to see it.” He pulled the curtains back. “Hang on a minute.” He clicked over to photo mode and shot through the window. Maybe if she wouldn’t come back for him, she’d come back for
the snow. He’d take her either way. He sent the picture, and then he clicked back to her. “I sent you something I think you’ll like. The family said to tell you hello, by the way, and they’re eager for you to return.”

  “That’s nice. Hang on... Oh, Jerrod. Thank you. It’s lovely. I—I miss all of you, too.”

  Was that a hitch he heard in her voice?

  Did she mean him specifically? He’d ask, but would he get an honest answer from her? She was polite. He couldn’t imagine her saying, “No, Jerrod. I only miss your family.”

  “How’s Anne doing?”

  “Well enough, considering everything. Only a few tears. Thanks for asking. Do you know when you’ll come back?” He held his breath. If he had some idea of the length of this separation, he’d be better able to deal.

  “Probably in the spring.”

  Spring was better than saying she wasn’t returning, and for now, he’d take her answer.

  “I’ll let you get back to sleep. I only called to say Merry Christmas.”

  “I’m glad you did, Jerrod. Merry Christmas to you and the family.”

  A slight hesitation caught his attention. Was she going to say something else? No. Silence filled his ear. She’d disconnected. He wished he was in bed with her in Florida, or she was here with him in Woodstock. No matter where, so long as they were together.

  “Probably in the spring.” He repeated her words. Well, he’d see. When the doctors gave the okay that she was physically able, Jerrod wanted her home in Woodstock. He’d check with Ellen on Jill’s condition. Maybe he’d have to skip out on the Assembly for a couple of days and go visit her. Could he do that? No, not really. He had a responsibility to his constituents. What about a responsibility to himself? Wasn’t he entitled to find happiness? Deep down Jerrod accepted his happiness hinged on the Texan returning to Woodstock and him.

  MONDAY, JANUARY 21

  “Ellen, if I get any more rest, I’ll never be worth a damn thing again.”

  “Oh, Mom.” She took her mother’s hand and pulled her onto the glider. “What’s going on? Aren’t you happy here?”