by Radclyffe
“I feel a little like an intruder,” Jenna said. “Did you know her very well?”
“Not personally, not really.” Gard rested her hand on Jenna’s shoulder. “I saw her in town and stopped out here occasionally when her stock were ailing. If it helps, she seemed happy and content.”
Jenna leaned into Gard’s steady presence, folding her arms beneath her breasts. “She…died peacefully, you think?”
“I do.”
“Good.” Jenna squeezed Gard’s hand. “I guess we should check upstairs before we go. Make sure all the windows are closed and things like that.”
“All right. Then we’ll take a look at the stock.”
The stair treads dipped in the center from years of passage. A wide hall with a faded oriental runner bisected the house, with rooms opening on either side. Jenna peeked into a room with a double sleigh bed, dressers covered with personal effects, and a cane rocker with a wicker basket of knitting beside it. Elizabeth’s bedroom. A colorful handmade quilt covered the bed, smooth and neatly tucked at the corners. She wondered who had straightened it and glanced at Gard, who shook her head.
“Probably one of the neighbors came in,” Gard said. “I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking of it when I was here.”
“Of course you weren’t.” Jenna smiled at Gard. “You were seeing to Elizabeth. I’m glad it was you.”
Gard’s chest tightened at the sadness in Jenna’s voice. She’d grown pale again, and her limp was more pronounced. When Jenna turned her head, Gard caught the shimmer of tears glistening on her lashes and reacted instinctively. She clasped Jenna’s shoulders and drew her into her arms. Cupping the back of Jenna’s neck, she guided Jenna’s head against her shoulder and held her. “You’ve had a pretty rough few days. Why don’t we leave the rest of this for another time.”
“Sorry, just give me a second,” Jenna whispered.
“Long as you need.” Gard held her breath and would have stopped her heart if she could—anything not to break the spell of having Jenna in her arms. Jenna’s heart beat against her chest and warm breath fluttered over her throat. She felt as if she were holding a fragile work of art that might shatter at any second, even though she knew Jenna was neither fragile nor a priceless object. She was a flesh-and-blood woman, strong and stubborn and self-sufficient. Still, she wanted to shelter Jenna in a way that was completely new to her. The urge was so intense she shuddered with the force of it.
Jenna ran her hands up and down Gard’s back, drawing her fingers along the edges of the muscles bracketing her spine. “I’m all right.”
“I know,” Gard murmured. Blood pumped like oil from an uncapped well into her belly and pounded between her thighs. She was hard and swollen, her nipples rigid. She tightened her thighs to keep from rocking her pelvis into Jenna’s. She was just a little bit taller than Jenna, and they fit together perfectly. She gritted her teeth when moist warm lips skated over her neck.
“You taste like a summer afternoon,” Jenna whispered. “I knew you would.”
“Jenna,” Gard groaned. She didn’t want to let her go, but if she didn’t, she was going to kiss her, and that would be a mistake for more reasons than she could count. Jenna made a small sound in the back of her throat, half whimper, half want, and Gard’s control slipped. She skimmed her hand from Jenna’s hair over her neck, along the curve of her shoulder, to the swell of her breast.
“Mmm, yes.” Jenna sighed, her breath a hot wind blowing through Gard’s blood.
When Jenna trembled, Gard snapped back to reality as if she’d been doused in cold water. She had no business touching this woman. Certainly not here, not now. She clasped Jenna’s shoulders again and eased away until their bodies no longer touched. “Jenna, I’m sorry.”
Jenna’s eyes went from hazy to crystal clear in a heartbeat. “No need to apologize. I’m here too, remember?”
“I just wanted to—”
“It doesn’t matter. Shall we finish up?”
“Sure,” Gard said, a muscle jumping along her jaw.
Jenna strode off before the flush creeping up her chest above her low-cut tank top gave her away. God, she’d lasted all of two seconds up close and personal with Gard before totally losing her sanity. She loved the way Gard’s tight body molded to hers, and the way she tasted. Rich and tangy and oh God, she was so wet now just thinking about it. She needed to get out of the house. She needed to remember her Number One Rule. Never go to bed with a woman she couldn’t control. This meltdown was proof enough that woman wasn’t Gard Davis.
“This ought to be the last.” Jenna pushed open the door to a room at the back of the house and stopped so fast Gard’s front brushed her back and warm breath stirred the fine hairs on her neck. Just what she so didn’t need—more stimulation from Gard, accidental or otherwise. She almost leapt into the twenty- by forty-foot room to put distance between them. Light washed through three skylights and a bank of windows that hadn’t been visible from the front of the house. An easel stood in the center of the room, and at least two dozen canvases rested in stacks along one wall. This was an artist’s studio, and an active one, judging by the number of canvases. “I didn’t realize Elizabeth was a painter.”
“Neither did I.” Gard frowned, walking around Jenna to look at the painting on the easel. “I’ve never heard anyone mention it.”
Jenna followed and studied a nearly completed painting. A bold sunset rendered impressionistic with thick slashes of bright primary colors highlighted a craggy mountain range. The perspective was that of someone looking down from a great height, and Jenna had the instant sensation of flying. “I’m no expert, but this seems very good.”
Gard removed a canvas from one of the stacks and held it out at arm’s length. Another impressionistic view of mountains and this time, a starlit sky. “I feel like I’m lying on my back in a field and the sky is rotating over my head. Jesus. I can’t believe I left the house unlocked with these in here.” She carefully set the painting back. “You’re going to need an expert to appraise these, but I have a feeling they’re going to be worth something.”
“Well, if they are, they’re going in a museum.”
“You might want to find out what they’re worth before you decide not to sell them.”
Jenna shook her head vigorously. “No. This is her legacy. This is her life. Look around you.”
Gard looked at Jenna, her eyes contemplative. “Maybe she knew you’d understand.”
“You don’t think this is why she left all of this to me?” Jenna said. “Could she have known I’m a writer?”
“Why not? You don’t keep your given name a secret, do you?”
“Not exactly, but I don’t use it professionally.” Jenna didn’t want to explain that everything she owned was held by Cassandra Hart Enterprises. In the unlikely event Darlene ever wanted to find her, it would be damn difficult. Not impossible, but difficult. Fortunately, her phone sounded with Alice’s ring tone, and she gratefully turned away to answer. “Hi.”
“Hi, sweetie,” Alice said. “I have plane reservations for tomorrow morning. I’ve rented a car and I’ve got GPS and God willing, I won’t end up in Canada. Will you be okay until then?”
“I’ll be great.” Jenna laughed, incredibly relieved to hear from Alice. Now maybe life would get back to normal. “Call me when you get in, and I’ll let you know where we can meet.”
“I will. What are you doing?”
“We’re at Elizabeth’s, checking the house.”
“We?”
“Yes.”
“That would be you and Gard Davis?”
“Yes,” Jenna said, lowering her voice even though she knew Gard couldn’t hear Alice’s side of the conversation.
“She’s more than just a country vet, Jenna. Be careful.”
“I can’t talk right now,” Jenna said, suddenly protective. She didn’t want Alice prying into her relationship with Gard. Even though there wasn’t any relationship, and wasn’t going to be one. “I h
ave to go. I’ll see you when you get here.”
“Jenna, I’m not trying to—”
“I know. See you tomorrow.” Jenna disconnected and slipped the phone into her pocket. She avoided Gard’s searching gaze and indicated the room with a sweep of her arm. “Perhaps the attorney can shed some light on all of this.”
“Maybe so,” Gard said. “Ready to go?”
“Yes.”
“Company coming?”
“My agent. A good friend.” Jenna strode out of Elizabeth’s studio, confident that soon this strange pull she felt to Gard would disappear. Their worlds were about to spin out of orbit as quickly and as unexpectedly as they had collided.
Chapter Twelve
Jenna didn’t need to see Alice’s face to know she was the one driving the sleek Audi roaring toward the corner of Main and Maple where Jenna waited. The red convertible was the newest, cleanest vehicle within sight, and the only one without a trailer hitch. Most of the vehicles parked diagonally at the curb, front-end-in, were Ford pickup trucks like Gard’s, or SUVs and Subarus. Practical, hearty, and snow-worthy. Main Street, a ubiquitous name for the central thoroughfare in every small American town, formed the heart of Little Falls. Three- and four-story brick and clapboard buildings stood shoulder to shoulder on each side of the street for three blocks and housed the bank, post office, city hall/sheriff’s annex, drugstore, diner, beauty shop, pizza parlor, a law office, a real estate firm, and three taverns. The residential streets where the doctors, lawyers, bankers, and businessmen used to live ran perpendicular to Main and were named for trees. Maple, Willow, Elm, and Oak were the prominent ones she’d noticed as she’d walked through town after finishing up with the attorney. Many of the once-grand houses with spacious grassy lots and detached garages larger than the trailer she’d grown up in had been divided into apartments when the mills had closed, the jobs had disappeared, and the wealthy had left for the cities.
The elms had long been lost to blight, but the sweeping maples still cast cool shadows over the uneven slate sidewalks, and when the breeze wafted over her skin, making her shiver in the steamy heat, she might have been back in Lansingville, PA, population 673, on her way to a bone-wearying, soul-sapping night of hefting trays and dodging passes from truckers and locals at the diner. She’d outrun the memory on her brisk walk back to Main, and now she smiled with an unanticipated rush of pleasure as Alice screeched to a halt at the curb, one hand holding her streaming blond hair back from her face.
“Nice entrance.” Jenna tossed her briefcase on the floor and slid into the passenger seat. “How was the trip?”
“What is it with the drivers around here?” Alice frowned, an inverted V marring the smooth contour between her brows. “If they’re not passing you in pickup trucks going ninety miles an hour on roads that look like they ought to be traversing the Alps, they’re poking along at thirty. And don’t even get me started on the tractors—”
“You’re in the land of rugged individuality now”—Jenna leaned over to kiss Alice on the cheek—“where rules were made to be broken and laws are merely suggestions, usually for the other guy.”
“Were they serious about the population? Eighteen fifty-seven?” When Jenna nodded, Alice shook her head and laughed. “Where to?”
“We can get you checked in at the hotel—it’s another forty minutes from here according to MapQuest—or if you want to start your adventures today, you can stay at the motel with me.”
“Kerry hasn’t changed your reservations yet?”
“If she did, she didn’t let me know about it. But no matter. I’ve got a marvelous room with an absolutely striking view of the parking lot. As near as I can tell only three other lifeforms currently inhabit the bathroom, and whatever sticky substance is on top of the dresser—”
“Stop. Please. I haven’t had lunch yet.”
Jenna glanced at her watch. Almost two p.m. Somehow the day had slipped away. More than twenty-four hours since Gard had dropped her off at the Leaf Peeper Inn. They’d filled the silence on the ride into town from Birch Hill with small talk. The polite talk of strangers who hadn’t nearly shared an unplanned intimate moment. She’d come very close to kissing Gard in the hallway of Elizabeth’s house, or inviting a kiss from her. She hadn’t intended either thing, and that spontaneous lapse was frightening. She always planned her liaisons, made the decision to share her body with a cool head, even when the rest of her had already moved to the next stage. Being around Gard sent her well-rehearsed and reliable patterns topsy-turvy, and she didn’t like the feeling. She didn’t like that she was still thinking about the almost-kiss either.
“Jenna?” Alice grasped Jenna’s hand and drew it into her lap, squeezing gently. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
“What? Oh, I’m fine. Really.”
“How’s the headache?”
“Gone.”
“Really? You’re sleeping all right?”
“Well enough. Stop worrying.” She’d learned to half-sleep while listening for Darlene’s late night party guests and she was still a restless sleeper. At Gard’s she’d slept soundly despite her injury, feeling safe with Gard across the hall, but last night her dreams—fractured bits of a long-ago life and frustrating fragments of a kiss that almost was—had left her uneasy and tired in the morning.
“And your knee?” Alice tilted her head and peered at the object in question as if she might see through Jenna’s pants. “How bad is it?”
“Seventy-five percent better already. I think getting off it right away made all the difference. Gard was right about that.”
“I take it you’re completely moved out of her house?”
“Let’s have lunch.” Jenna didn’t want to talk about Gard, and Alice’s warning tone was hard to miss. “Then we can draw up a game plan if you really want to stay a while. You really don’t need to, you know.”
“I told you,” Alice said, “I’m looking forward to a mini-vacation. I saw all sorts of bumper stickers on the way here with delightful places to visit. Caves and caverns and other exotic places. Pottery barns. I assume those come without livestock.”
Jenna couldn’t help but laugh. Alice was the epitome of a city girl. An elegant and sophisticated woman who always knew the right wine to choose, the best restaurant, the finest hotel. She had guided Jenna into a world that had been completely foreign to her, and had never once pushed Jenna to be anyone other than who she was. Jenna had taken what she needed from Alice’s repertoire, and kept, she hoped, the core of herself—even if she had hidden it away.
“Lunch first,” Jenna said. “Head straight through town and I’ll take you to Oscar’s.”
“Italian food?” Alice asked hopefully.
“Ah, well, just about any kind of food you might want.”
Once out of town, Alice unleashed the Audi and took the curving roads at breakneck speed. Surrounding fields blurred into ribbons of green, lush streamers cast on the currents of ocean sky. Alice laughed joyfully and Jenna joined her, feeling seventeen again. Freedom was suddenly as simple as the wind on her face. They’d gone five miles over empty roads when a white cruiser pulled out behind them, followed an instant later by the sound of a siren. Jenna looked behind them and saw the revolving red light on top of the sheriff’s car.
“Crap,” Jenna shouted.
“Well hell,” Alice called back, flipping her turn signal and pulling onto the gravel shoulder of the narrow two-lane road. The cruiser pulled in behind them. Alice leaned over the seat for her purse. By the time the officer approached the side of the car, she had her license and car rental papers already out.
“License and registration please.” Rina Gold removed her sunglasses and hooked them onto the flap of her shirt pocket as her gaze slid from Alice to Jenna, one dark brow lifting. “Good afternoon, Ms. Hardy.”
“Sheriff Gold.” Jenna knew her face was flaming.
Alice turned in her seat, putting her back partially to Jenna and tilting her face up to Rina.
The sun caught the silver highlights in her hair and she seemed to glow. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. I’m afraid I was too busy admiring this gorgeous countryside to pay attention to my speed.”
For half a heartbeat, a smile threatened to break Rina’s tight-lipped grimace. “Yes. I hear that a lot. One moment, please.”
As soon as she was out of earshot, Alice rounded on Jenna, her eyes sparkling. “Who is that? She is drop-dead gorgeous.”
“The county sheriff. I met her out at Gard’s.”
“Is she—” Alice waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“I don’t know. It’s not the first thing I usually ask a stranger.” Jenna sounded testy and she knew it. Did everyone think that Rina Gold was gorgeous? Just because she was. Damn her.
“You don’t know, or you don’t think so?”
“I don’t know,” Jenna said, keeping her voice low because the sheriff was on her way back.
Rina handed back Alice’s papers. Then she braced both hands on the edge of the car door. “I’m going to give you a warning this time, Ms. Smith, because I see that you’ve just arrived in Vermont. Those little signs that you see along the side of the road with numbers on them? They denote the speed limit. On this road that’s fifty-five.”
“I’m sorry. I really was having a wonderful time driving through your county, Sheriff. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
Jenna could hear Alice’s eyelashes flutter and choked back a groan.
The sheriff studied Alice a long moment and said, “It would be nice if you lived long enough to see more of it. These roads are treacherous. Be careful.”
“I will,” Alice said seriously. “Thank you.”
Rina touched the brim of her hat with one finger, glanced over at Jenna, then turned away. “You ladies have a nice day.”
When the crunch of the sheriff’s boots on the gravel faded, Alice said under her breath, “I want her. Is it too soon to ask for her number?”