by Radclyffe
“Of course.” Gard took her hands from the door and glanced at Alice, who had swiveled in her seat and was regarding Gard with what might have been pity. “I’ll let you go.”
She backed up another inch as the Audi shot backwards, rocketed across the gravel lot, and bounced out onto the road. She watched for a few seconds until it disappeared. She was about to get back into her truck when the sheriff’s cruiser came from the opposite direction, angled off the highway, and pulled into the spot Alice had just vacated. Rina climbed out, glanced once back up the highway in the direction Alice had disappeared, and shook her head. “You’d think if she was gonna drive like that, she’d get a car that wasn’t quite so obvious.”
“Do they ever?”
“Nope.” Rina laughed. “Red convertibles are always a gimme when I need to fill my ticket quota. Not that I have a quota, mind you. Buy you a cup of coffee or are you just leaving?”
Gard wasn’t sure if she was coming or going. She was still trying to figure out the disjointed conversation with Jenna.
“Coffee sounds good.”
They walked in together and scored a booth. After the waitress poured coffee and disappeared, Gard said, “Thanks again for having your deputy check on Madison’s car.”
“Not a problem.” Rina turned the heavy white ceramic mug in a slow circle on the scarred wooden tabletop. “Did you take her back out to Dover this morning?”
“No. She was going to get someone in the dorm where she’s staying to give her a lift. I have calls and none of them are in that direction.” Gard paused, wondering about Rina’s cautious tone. “Are you trying to ask me if I spent the night with her?”
Rina raised her eyes. “None of my business.”
Gard waited.
“But, yes. I guess I am.” Rina glanced around the diner and lowered her voice. “Quite a few people are curious about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how it is around here. Not much to talk about except your neighbor’s business. Jerry Bensen was coming in to Ramiro’s when you were leaving last night. Saw you pull out with her in the truck and was naturally curious. Then he told someone else, who told someone else, who told Shirley Palmer when she served early breakfast this morning.”
Gard groaned. “I guess I didn’t drive far enough for that beer after all.”
Rina laughed. “You’re a good-looking single woman and you don’t make any secret of the kind of company you like. You don’t think everyone around here is curious about who you’re seeing and what you’re doing with her? You’d have to go to another state, and I’m not even sure that would be enough.”
“I’m not running,” Gard bit out. She’d run enough.
Rina’s eyes widened. “Whoa, I’m just giving you a hard time. All the gossip was good-natured and most of it was pretty vague. You’ve got every right to see whoever you want and nobody ever said otherwise.”
“Sorry.” She was being way too sensitive. She knew the score, had known it when she’d moved here. She had opted to trade the false anonymity of elite society for the open scrutiny of a small, close-knit community. Despite the generally good-natured gossip, most people around here really did live and let live. “For what it’s worth, I dropped her off about two and went home to bed. Alone.”
“Well, that certainly isn’t what I’d call juicy gossip.”
Gard laughed. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“I didn’t say I was disappointed.”
Gard thought back to the encounter with Jenna in the parking lot. If Jenna’d heard the same rumors that Rina had, her cold shoulder made sense. Jenna probably thought she had gone directly from groping her to sleeping with someone else. Jenna was almost right too. She’d still been so wound up from being with Jenna,that when Madison had slid across the front seat while she was driving and started playing with the hair at the back of her neck, she’d gotten hot again even though she hadn’t wanted to. She’d tried to hide it but Madison must have noticed, because when she pulled into the parking lot where Madison directed her to stop, Madison had kissed her and she’d kissed her back. She was horny and Madison promised to douse the flames that simmered deep down inside her. She’d let the kiss go on for almost a minute before she’d picked up on the change in Madison’s breathing. When she registered the urgent way Madison moved against her, she called a halt before things really went too far. She wasn’t about to say no twice in one night to a woman she’d led on.
“Nothing happened,” Gard said.
“You don’t sound all that happy about it.”
“No. I’m perfectly happy with it. I’m not looking for any kind of entanglement. Even casual.”
“That’s nice—that you’re not looking for anything, I mean.” Rina sipped her coffee. “But you know, sometimes life comes calling all the same.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jenna didn’t want to think about Gard, and she knew exactly how to put the irritating vet out of her mind. The same way she had always handled disappointment, anger, or fear. She’d settle into her Cassandra-mindset and work. When she was writing, she disengaged her conscious mind from all the stress and obligations of her daily life, and she lost herself—no, that wasn’t quite right—she immersed herself in the lives of her characters. She couldn’t write her best while straddling two worlds. She needed to be in one or the other, and for most of her life, the world she preferred was the one she created. The joy, the heartache, the passion were just as real as any emotion she had ever experienced. Growing up, when her life had been drab and bleak and dangerous, she’d always found refuge in other worlds, other lives. Becoming Cassandra had taken hard work and a lot of luck, but she could count on the life she’d made not to let her down. Once she got lost in the new book, Gard would cease to haunt her thoughts.
After breakfast, she checked out of the motel, and she and Alice drove to Birch Hill. They started upstairs and spent the morning carefully packing away Elizabeth’s keepsakes. Jenna wasn’t certain what she was going to do with them, but at least in the short term she would store them. They put fresh linens, pillowcases, and covers on the beds in two of the bedrooms, emptied drawers, folded away clothes—working in silence, reverently, careful with what Elizabeth had left to Jenna. When they stopped for lunch, Alice wanted to look through the studio while Jenna put sandwiches together. When Alice came down to the kitchen, she pulled out a chair at the table, her expression pensive.
“I know a gallery owner in Manhattan,” Alice said. “I think we should have her come up here and look at those paintings.” She drummed her fingers on the table, the clear polish flashing in the sunlight. “What do you think about some kind of event playing off the family art connection? An Elizabeth Hardy and Cassandra Hart joint show—we could display her art in combination with you doing a reading. There are dozens of independent bookstores in this state alone, and I bet we could get a lot of them interested in this.”
Jenna picked up the paring knife she’d used to peel cucumbers and wiped the blade with a wet cloth. “You want me to do a book event up here? Why? You’ve always wanted me to stick to the big cities before.”
“I know, because that’s where the sales are concentrated. But,” Alice held up a finger and waved it back and forth in the air, “with the new direction you’re taking for this series, and this new development in your life, it’s a perfect opportunity to pull in a different kind of reader. The grassroots, lifelong romance reader. You know we have them—being gay doesn’t change the profile. And it’s good promotion to show we’re interested in the small bookstores too.”
“Since when? You’re always harping at me to conserve my energy for the big—”
“You won’t have to travel—that’s my whole point. I’m not talking about the gay bookstores. Just about every town has an indie bookstore.” Alice made a face. “Well, any town that’s bigger than a blink, which lets out Little Falls.”
“I’m more than happy to do any book event, you know that,
” Jenna said. “If you want to set something up, go ahead. And as far as the gallery owner goes—if you trust her judgment, that’s enough for me. It’s one less thing I have to worry about.”
“Perfect. I’ll make some calls.” Alice stood up and rubbed her hands together, never happier than when she was planning and promoting.
“I’m going to spend the rest of the day in my office.” Jenna really liked the sound of that, even though at the moment her office was actually a sitting room off the parlor. She thought the room that jutted out from the house, giving it three walls of windows, was meant to be a sewing room, but it was perfect for her to write in. Situated at the back of the house, the view was of the barns and the fields and the mountains beyond. Whenever she looked up, she’d be surrounded by nothing but nature. She knew some of her colleagues liked to work in rooms without windows because they were never distracted, but she found changing her focus actually helped her sometimes, especially when she wasn’t quite sure where the next scene was going. “Will you be able to entertain yourself?”
“I’ve got plenty to do,” Alice said. “And I really am planning to do some sightseeing. I haven’t had a vacation in…since before you became a star.”
“Good,” Jenna said absently, her mind already on the next scene she intended to write. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Does that mean Oscar’s again?” Alice put on a brave face.
“Why don’t we live a little and explore the countryside. Maybe find an inn with a restaurant.”
“It’s a date.”
A date. Could it be? Jenna watched Alice as she gathered her keys and briefcase from the sideboard in the kitchen. She’d changed into khaki shorts and a sleeveless white blouse, and she looked fresh and toned and quite beautiful. Jenna had always found Alice attractive in an objective kind of way. They’d been friends for a long time. She trusted Alice in a way that she didn’t trust anyone else. And spending time with her up here, relaxed and companionable, was easy. Comfortable. Maybe that was enough to build a relationship on.
Alice turned as if to say something and stopped with a quizzical expression on her face. “What?”
Jenna shook her head, feeling the color rise to her cheeks. “Nothing. I was…nothing.”
Alice raised her brows, a playful expression in her eyes. “You were cruising me.”
“Oh God,” Jenna said. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re friends?” Jenna wrapped her arms around her middle. The sudden awkwardness turned Alice into a stranger, and the space between them seemed to shrink even though neither one of them had moved.
“And friends can’t be attracted to each other?” Alice’s voice had gotten husky and warm. “I’ve always been attracted to you, but I felt it would be inappropriate. Not because of the business, but because…”
“Because why?” Jenna asked gently and Alice swallowed, the movement causing her throat to shimmer. She was so very lovely. Why had she never noticed, and why now? “How could anything that happened between us be wrong?”
“Not wrong, no. Just…” Alice sighed. “I know you can take care of yourself. God, you proved that by surviving on your own when you were only a teenager. But I guess I’ve always felt a little responsible for you.”
“I’d be lost without you,” Jenna said honestly, “but not because I need you to take care of me. You’re the only constant in my life. You’re the one I trust.”
They stared at one another and the air thickened with summer heat and possibility.
“I think I should go for a drive,” Alice said quietly, “and let you work. And maybe we should both think about what we’re saying. Because I don’t think it would be casual, Jenna.”
“I know,” Jenna said softly. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Alice smiled a little wistfully, and then she was gone. Jenna listened to the sound of the Audi roaring down the drive, imagining herself kissing Alice, holding her. Every time she tried, she remembered the demanding press of Gard’s mouth and her lean, hard body and the picture dissolved.
*
Gard knelt in the dirt next to the anesthetized pig. She inserted the oral speculum and checked the boar’s canines. All four were extruded, but one was close to four inches long and about to pierce his lip.
“We’ll have to take that one down,” she told Mike Burns, pointing to the longest of the four teeth. “The others don’t really look like they’re a problem, but I can saw them off if you want.”
“I think just the one for now.”
“No problem.” She grabbed the Gigli saw from her kit and hooked the eighteen-inch-long strand of woven wire, fitted out with a rod-like handle at each end, around the left mandibular canine. “You want to stabilize his head? This will just take a minute.”
Mike held the pig’s snout as she positioned the wire blade a few millimeters above the gum line. She thought she saw the pig twitch, but when she waited a few seconds, watching, he didn’t move again. She’d given him a hefty dose of ketamine and Telazol, so he should be out for a few more minutes. He was a big animal and she didn’t want him waking up while she was working. Just as she began to cut, a sharp crack reverberated through the air. This time she was certain the pig twitched.
“Gunshot,” Mike muttered. “Somebody jumping the gun on hunting season.”
“Great,” Gard muttered, sawing through the tooth with as much speed as she dared. She didn’t want to violate the pulp space. The pig would bleed and be in pain, and the open tooth root would be a setup for infection. Two more sharp cracks, followed by a volley, thundered overhead just as she completed the cut through the tooth. The pig jerked, reared his head up, and slashed her forearm with the canine of his upper jaw.
“God damn it!” Gard jerked back and fell on her ass. Mike let go of the snout rope, and the boar staggered to his feet. He took a few steps and went down again, still heavily anesthetized. Gard rolled to her knees, made sure he was breathing, and got to her feet. Blood ran down her forearm and trickled between her fingers.
“Shit! Did he get you bad?” Mike asked.
“I don’t think so.” Gard grabbed a handful of gauze pads from her kit and wiped the blood from her arm. A five-inch gash gaped across her forearm midway between her elbow and the top of her hand. She could extend her fingers, so none of the tendons were damaged. She’d be sore, but once it was sutured, it ought to be okay. “Nothing too serious.”
“You want to come up to the house and get cleaned up?”
“I’d better wash it out,” Gard said. “Then if you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand bandaging it up, that ought to do it.”
Mike looked at the pig, then at Gard. His face clouded. “I’m really sorry, Gard. If you want to send me a bill for the doctor—”
“Don’t worry about it, Mike. It was an accident. Not your fault. We’ll send you a bill for the tooth trim. The rest is on me.” Gard tilted her chin at her med box. “Can you get that?”
“If you’re sure,” Mike said, hurrying to gather up her kit.
“Hey. He’ll need those other teeth done sooner or later, right? I’ll be back for those and charge you double.”
Mike laughed.
After she got the wound irrigated out and a clean bandage wrapped around it, she stowed her gear with Mike’s help and drove slowly down the narrow lane that wound between his cornfields. Once she reached the dirt road that fronted his property, out of sight of the house, she stopped and called Rina.
“Sheriff Gold,” Rina said.
“Hey, it’s Gard. Are you working?”
“Got the night shift. Lucky me. What can I do for you?”
“I’m out at the Burns place, off Route Seven. I could use a ride to Bennington.”
“Got another date?” Rina asked.
“Not so you’d notice. I just got gored by Mike’s stud boar. My arm’s bleeding pretty good and I—”
“Jesus, Gard! Why didn’t you just say so. I’ll be there in ten
minutes. Can you hold on that long?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just a little bit worried about driving all that way. Once I get stitched up—”
“Just sit still. I’ll be there.”
Rina’s ten minutes was more like seven. She must have torn up the highway to get there. The cruiser pulled in sharply behind Gard’s truck, and Rina jumped out, leaving the motor running. Gard pushed her door open and climbed down.
“I’m okay,” Gard said. “I just didn’t want to take any chances driving.”
“Let me see.”
Gard held out her left arm. “It’s into the muscle but not as bad as it looks.”
“Uh-huh.” Rina gently cradled Gard’s hand, assessing the blood-soaked bandage. “Come on, let’s get you in the cruiser.”
Gard didn’t argue. Now that she was standing, she felt a little dizzy. She doubted it was from blood loss, more likely just from the aftereffects of adrenaline surge, but she was just as glad she wasn’t going to drive the thirty miles to the hospital. She patted her leg. “Come on, Beam.” The dog jumped down and trotted along beside her. When Rina looped an arm around her waist, she didn’t resist. “I appreciate this.”
“You thank me for something like this and I’m going to kick your ass.”
Gard slid into the front seat of the cruiser after Rina opened the door for her. Beam crowded in at her feet. She let her head fall back on the seat and laughed. “Love you too.”
*
Four hours later, Rina pulled in behind Gard’s truck and stopped with the engine idling.
“I can take you all the way home,” Rina said.
“I should be fine now,” Gard said. “I don’t want to leave my truck out here any longer. It’ll be dark in another hour or so, and I’ve got equipment and medications onboard. Besides, don’t you need to get to work?”
“I’m the sheriff, remember? I can be late if I want.”
“It’s not that far, and I didn’t let them give me any narcotics. The arm feels good now. I’ve got probably an hour before the local wears off. I’ll be home and tucked up by then.”