Josiah Reynolds Box Set 4

by Abigail Keam

  “A handwritten will not worth the piece of paper it’s on.”

  “It was and still is legal in Kentucky. They loved Rosie, and that’s what you can’t stand. You’re just making a fool out of yourself, you old fool. Now, you really are in trouble. You’ve broken the conditions of the PO.”

  One of the deputies walked over to June and Gage while the other one sheepishly walked past me and cut the chain, placing it in an evidence bag. “Sorry, ma’am,” he muttered. “We were just having a little fun.”

  “Some fun,” Rosie shot back. She pulled the gate open and stepped out. “Are you going to arrest him?” she yelled at the other officer.

  The deputy pulled out a pair of cuffs and said, “Mr. Cagle, we’ve got orders to bring you in. The Jessamine County DA wants to talk to you. The call came in over our radio.”

  “You’re going to cuff me, boy?”

  “Sorry, sir. Standard procedure.”

  As the deputy pulled Gage away, he screamed, “I’m going to make you pay, Little Miss Rosebud! You mark my words. You’re going to get your comeuppance too, Juneytooney! You’re nothing but white trash dressed up in your better’s clothes! My mother wasted her time on you. I remember. Don’t think I don’t!”

  “Make sure you add terroristic threats to those charges,” June yelled at the police.

  I was so angry with Gage that I let loose of Baby’s collar. Suddenly aware he was free, Baby bounded after Gage, sensing he was the object of our scorn.

  Seeing Baby lope toward him, Gage broke free and jumped onto the car hood.

  This only made June cackle with laughter.

  Rosie and I chuckled too. It was too rich seeing Gage frightened of one of the most harmless dogs in the Bluegrass. What was Baby going to do? Lick him to death? The worst Baby might do is sit on him. Of course, having two hundred pounds of canine muscle resting on one’s chest could be cause for alarm.

  “Don’t tinkle on yourself, Gage,” June called out.

  Watching the deputies pull Gage off the hood, June murmured, “Being around that old fart is like eating potato salad left out on the Fourth of July.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Drinking water out of a toilet.”

  “Stop. I get the picture.”

  June smirked and called, “Baby, come!”

  Of course, Baby minded instantly and ran over. Why doesn’t he obey me like that?

  Rosie hugged June. She tried this with me, but I backed away. You know I don’t like hugs. What’s wrong with a friendly handshake?

  But Baby liked hugs and enjoyed the one Rosie gave him.

  “Thank you both so much. I was scared to death!” exclaimed Rosie. “Gage has tried some scummy stuff over the years, but he never pulled a stunt like this. What if my house had caught on fire or one of the animals needed medical treatment?”

  “Or you needed an ambulance?” I pointed out.

  Rosie put her fingers to her lips. “Didn’t think of that.”

  “It’s over,” June said.

  “For now. I don’t know why that man will not leave me alone. He’s crazy, June. I’m afraid of him. He’s getting more violent. I fear one day he’s going to kill me. I really do.”

  I didn’t naysay Rosie because I thought she was right. Gage Cagle had a grudge against Rosie, and men killed women all the time in Kentucky while little was done about it.

  June asked, “You want to stay with me, Rosie?”

  “Much obliged for the offer, June, but my animals need me. I couldn’t leave them.”

  “You could come over during the day with one of my workers to feed them.”

  “No, no. I’m afraid Gage might come back and hurt them. You know he’s already poisoned some of my dogs.”

  “Suit yourself then. Call me if you change your mind.”

  “Will do, June, and kindly thank you again. Thank you, Josiah.” She bent over and petted Baby. “And you too, Baby.”

  “Twarn’t nothing,” June said, mimicking Gage.

  We all laughed, but as I helped June back into the golf cart, I was uneasy.

  Kentucky isn’t called the “dark and bloody ground” for nothing.

  I knew in my bones Gage Cagle wasn’t finished with Rosie.

  4

  June was quiet on the ride home, seemingly lost in her thoughts about the past. I wondered if some of the spiteful things Gage said had dredged up painful memories.

  I nudged her with my elbow. “June, you said you grew up in Monkey’s Eyebrow. That’s way down in western Kentucky. What were you doing hanging around the Cagle family in the Bluegrass?”

  “I said I was from Monkey’s Eyebrow, which I am, but my father went to work for Gage’s daddy. It seemed like Daddy was always behind the eight ball, so he came to the Bluegrass to look for work. Mr. Cagle hired Daddy to manage his farm and handle paperwork for him.”

  “Paperwork?”

  “Mr. Cagle was illiterate for the most part. Could sign his name and do his sums, but that’s about it. Looking back, I would say he was most likely dyslexic. You know, got his letters mixed up. He was by no means stupid, but he needed help with the written word. Daddy made sure all the farm expenses, bills of sale, and receipts were properly filled out, signed, and recorded, making sure Mr. Cagle wasn’t hornswoggled in any of his dealings.”

  “That’s how you came to know Gage?”

  “Uh-huh, yes. He’s a few years younger than I.”

  “You want to tell me why Gage hates you so much?”

  “My family was poor. Very poor. Gage’s father gave us a house to live in as part of Daddy’s stipend, but still, Daddy had back bills to pay so money was always short. Once in a while, we had to skip a meal, so I would wander down to the Cagle’s home and look waifish until Mrs. Cagle would invite me to dinner. She was always good to me.”

  June’s face broke out into a wide smile. “Ah, Mrs. Cagle. What a dear, sweet woman! She had always wanted a daughter and took an instant shine to me. She taught me table manners, how to converse in polite society, and things a rich man would expect of a wife. Don’t smirk, Josiah. There was no such thing as Women’s Lib then. The women’s movement was decades in the future. The things she taught me came into use, especially when I married my second husband, Lord Elsmere, but she also pressed upon me to be kind—noblesse oblige and all that. What’s the point of having a lot of money if you can’t help folks?”

  June grew quiet again and stared at the passing countryside until she shivered. “Did I tell you Mrs. Cagle bought me my first important dress? It was to my first Homecoming Dance.”

  “What about the feed sack dresses?”

  “You’re probably too young to remember, but back in the day, chicken feed came in lovely patterned cotton sacks. Women used to take the emptied sacks and make everything out of them from aprons to baby clothes to dresses. I still have two dresses Mother sewed for me.”

  “I take it that Mrs. Cagle never made dresses out of feed sacks.”

  “She never had to. The Cagle family was rich.”

  “I would like very much to see those dresses, June.”

  “I’ll have Amelia get them out of storage then. They mean a lot to me. My mother was an excellent seamstress.”

  “Is the fact Mrs. Cagle took a shine to you the reason Gage doesn’t like you?”

  “That and the fact my fortunes took a turn upward, and his family’s went downhill after his daddy died. Everybody used to address his daddy as ‘Mr. Cagle’, but Gage is just plain Gage to his peers. He resents it because he wants to be king of the hill.”

  “Perhaps that’s why he dislikes Rosie so much. His parents doted on her and sold land to her.”

  “I think that’s one reason, but I think there’s more. I don’t know what. He just doesn’t want anyone on his property leading to Rosie’s house.”

  “Do you know why?”

  June shook her head. “Haven’t a clue, but I’m sure whatever it is, it’s got to do with some sort of illegal act
ivity. Ever since I’ve known Gage, he’s been mixed up in something dishonest. First, it was running moonshine to dry counties and holding underground card games, then selling cigarettes on the black market. Now, I’m not against drinking or taking a drag off a fag now and then, and the Lord knows I’ve been known to bet on a pony or two, but the way Gage goes about getting his jollies, people get hurt. He doesn’t care whom he has to step over to make a fast buck. I’ve warned Rosie to sell and get out, but she won’t listen to me. Gage is never going to leave her in peace. Never.”

  I skirted onto Tates Creek Road. In a matter of minutes, Lady Elsmere would be safely ensconced in the Big House, and I would be happily sitting in front of the TV at Matt’s house.

  I assumed Rose would be safe while Gage was in jail.

  Or so we all thought!

  5

  I pulled up to the kitchen entrance at the back of the Big House. As I helped June out of the golf cart, I could hear Bess singing as she baked. Bess was a daughter of Charles, heir to June’s fortune. I always refer to Charles as the butler. That’s how he started with June, but he was now manager of her entire estate.

  I sniffed the air. “Bess is making cinnamon rolls! Think I’ll come in and sit a spell.”

  Most people would refer to Bess as a cook. She had neither formal training nor a degree from some fancy cooking school, but she was an artist. Give her four items, and she would give you a feast. People were forever trying to steal her away from June, but Bess knew on which side her bread was buttered, and happily for me, baking was her specialty. Hot cinnamon rolls and cold milk, here I come.

  I almost pushed June out of the way trying to get inside until I remembered myself. I opened the door for June and cracked, “Age before beauty.”

  June swept past saying, “Pearls before swine.”

  I was chuckling when I followed her inside, and then I stopped. Frozen.

  At the kitchen table gobbling down freshly baked, hot cinnamon rolls sat Asa and her sidekick, Boris Whatshisface.

  Asa put down a glass of chilled milk and sang, “Hello Mommy Dearest. I’m home.”

  6

  Bess laid out more plates, glasses, and teacups on the table alongside a pan of her delicious cinnamon rolls with a pitcher of milk and a pot of hot tea.

  Boris immediately poured hot tea into a clear glass. That’s the Eastern European way I am told.

  June poured tea into a cup and then added milk. That’s the aristocratic British way I am told.

  I poured milk into a glass. That’s the Josiah way and the correct beverage to drink with warm homemade cinnamon rolls.

  “You seem surprised to see me, Mother.”

  “Well, Asa, I’m quite floored but very pleased.”

  “Are you? You don’t look it.”

  I managed to grimace a smile. “Are you on a case since Whatshisface is with you?”

  “His name is Boris as you very well know.”

  “Sorry, Boris,” I apologized, handing him a napkin.

  “No offense taken,” replied Boris, wiping the crumbs from the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “I think you missed the crumbs caught in your pelt,” I added, remarking on the man’s remarkable chest hair sprouting from his shirt.

  Asa gave Boris a disapproving glance. “Quit clowning for my boorish mother.”

  I turned to June and mockingly asked in a Southern drawl, “Am I boorish? I ask you.”

  June decided not to play and said, “Asa, I’m so glad you’re here. Just in time for the Bluegrass Antique Ball.”

  “Sorry, Miss June, but I’m only here for a short while, then I fly out again.”

  “Of course,” I sniggered.

  “What does that mean, Mother?”

  June sighed. “Girls, fight your battle somewhere else. I don’t want to waste what little time I have left listening to you two bicker.”

  “Sorry, June.”

  “Me too, Miss June,” replied Asa. She mouthed over June’s head, “You started it.”

  I stuck out my tongue when June wasn’t looking.

  Asa said, “I’m just here for a few days. Can you put Boris and me up? I went to the Butterfly, but Mother has it rented out this weekend, and there’s not enough room at Matt’s cottage for all three of us.”

  “Four,” I said, getting up and opening the screened kitchen door in response to frantic scratching.

  Baby happily bounded in and went straight to Asa for a sniff and a scratch behind the ear. He looked warily at Boris with his lone good eye, sniffed again, and decided Boris wasn’t worth his interest. No food.

  “What? No hello for me, you worthless canine?” asked Bess, feigning anger.

  Baby whined as he thumped his thick tail against the bottom cabinets. It sounded like someone hammering nails.

  “Bess, please give Baby something to eat before he demolishes the kitchen cabinets,” demanded June, irritated at the commotion Baby was making.

  Bess put slices of roast beef into a stainless steel bowl she kept for Baby and the mélange of other dogs Charles brought home. She ran fresh water in another bowl and put it beside Baby.

  “Miss June, I’ll clean up the kitchen later, but I’ve got to get off my feet. Dinner will be at eight as usual.”

  “The kitchen is your domain, Bess. Do as you will.”

  Bess turned to Asa. “I’ll be expecting you two for dinner?”

  “That depends on Miss June,” Asa replied.

  June snorted, “You know you can stay.”

  Asa smiled with relief. She didn’t want to stay at Matt’s cottage with me? What was up with that?

  “I’m coming too,” I chirped, inviting myself.

  My next thought was to wonder whether Asa and Boris were going to stay in separate rooms, but I didn’t have time to ponder. Amelia, another daughter from the union of Charles and Josephine Dupuy, wandered into the kitchen.

  “I heard you put that old curmudgeon in his place, Miss June.”

  “News travels fast in these parts.”

  “Rosie called and told me the entire shameful episode.”

  “I got in the last word,” June replied, straightening her shoulders.

  “A ball of righteous fire is how Rosie described you.”

  “And me?” I asked.

  Amelia grinned, remarking, “She didn’t mention you specifically, Josiah, but Rosie did say Baby was a big help, too. Did that old bag of wind really pee on himself?”

  June scowled. “Does a lady say the word ‘pee?’”

  “I heard you say the word piss today, June,” I replied. June could be such a hypocrite—unlike me.

  Amelia, Asa, and Boris looked at June in astonishment.

  June grinned. “I did, didn’t I?” She chuckled. “Charm school rubs off when dealing with a no-good, worthless dog—no offense, Baby—but it felt so good. Well, enough of this jibber-jabber. I leave you all to your own devices. See everyone at dinner.” June rose and allowed Amelia to escort her upstairs.

  “I need a nap also,” I announced, rising. “Coming, Asa?”

  “I’m going to take a walk after I unpack. Boris, if you would be so kind, please take my bag to the blue bedroom overlooking the pool. It’s right across from Lady Elsmere’s room. You take the room down the hall overlooking the front driveway.”

  “Okay, Boss.”

  Ooh, that answered my question about the relationship between Asa and Boris. Strictly business.

  It made me a little sad. Boris, when not clowning around, was good-looking, square jaw and all, smart, and reeked of male hormones that said, “Let’s get it on.” He didn’t seem to be a psychopath and had a sense of humor, a job, and all his own teeth. What more could Asa want?

  It was my fervent belief all young people should be in love. I had been terribly in love with Asa’s father, Brannon, and was very happy for a good many years until our marriage fell apart.

  I wanted that for Asa. Not the awful part when a relationship comes
undone, but the good part, the love of a good man for my baby girl and a home to call her own. I realize not every woman needs or even wants that, but how long could Asa keep up what she was doing? Her job had to take a terrible toll on her body and psyche. But then again, I had to admit Asa was probably a thrill junkie.

  My path was not her path. I needed to let Asa live her own life and not interfere.

  Why was Asa here? She rarely dropped in for no reason.

  Was it to interfere with my life?

  7

  Boris took the overnight bags upstairs, leaving Asa and me alone in the kitchen.

  Baby, now sleeping stretched out in front of the door, didn’t count.

  I asked, “What’s up, Buttercup?”

  “Why haven’t you returned my calls or texted me back?”

  I replied, “Just been so darn busy. It got away from me. I hope you didn’t come all this way to check on me. As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “I flew all the way from Paris to see you.”

  “How is France this time of year?”

  “Mother, quit trying to deflect. I was worried. What’s wrong?”

  I stood up. “Nothing my child needs to worry about. I admit I may not be at my best, but I’m still the parent here, Asa.”

  “Let me help. You may be the parent, but sometimes you aren’t exactly the grownup.”

  Ouch!

  “You have helped me by showing up, but I’m very sorry if you expected to find me in a puddle on the floor.”

  “I thought you might be in the hospital.”

  “If that had happened, you would have been notified.”

  “Oh, you’re impossible, Mother!”

  “And you said you wanted to go for a walk. Go to the nursery barn. The foals are there, getting checkups from the vet.”

  I started to rouse Baby when Asa asked, “Why are you on kidney medication?”

  I froze.

  “I’ve asked before about it, and you always denied using it.”

  Swinging around, I asked, “Did Franklin rat me out?”