by Judy Clemens
I laughed. “I think that was about Len being nervous talking to you. But Bart is his closest friend and his business partner.”
“They own the Biker Barn equally?”
“Don’t know for sure. I actually think Lenny has the money and Bart has the business sense, but I could be wrong. It’s just the impression I’ve always had.”
“Do they live together?”
“You’re not asking if they’re gay, are you?”
That made her look up. “Goodness, no.”
“Because I don’t think they’d make that great a couple. They argue too much. Anyway, Lenny has his rowhouse in Perkasie, and Bart rents an apartment in Quakertown. Bart’s also a church-goer, while Lenny chooses to practice his religion on his own. Definitely not Mennonite background.”
She almost smiled at that. “Has Lenny always been a good guy?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
I studied her for a moment. I don’t talk about my friends to just anybody. But she looked sincere enough I knew she wasn’t asking just for kicks.
“I don’t know the details,” I finally said. “But he changed from bad guy to good guy about twenty years ago or so. From things he’s implied or things I’ve guessed, he rode with an outlaw club before getting out and going straight. He’s been Joe Good Citizen as long as I’ve known him.” I took a sip of milk. “I do know he has a nickname from the old days he doesn’t like. Hammer. Don’t ask me what it’s from. He doesn’t like to talk about those times, and I don’t ask. Doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Lucy sat back in her chair, and I unbent a little more. “Look, I know you’re attracted to him. That’s pretty obvious. Don’t you want to find out some of this stuff on your own?”
She was quiet for so long I thought she’d gone to sleep with her eyes open. Finally, she said, “I haven’t dated much—at least, not seriously—since Brad died. It still feels like a betrayal. And there is Tess to think about.”
So who was Noah? It didn’t seem like a casual relationship the way he’d lit up when he’d seen her. Or the way she’d reacted to his appearance on the farm.
“Tess seemed to like Lenny,” I said. “And he was super with her tonight.”
“Sure. I saw it, too. But what if it wouldn’t work out? I’d hate to break her heart, along with my own.”
I took a deep breath, wondering if now was the time to get some answers. “It’s been a while since Brad died, right? A year and a half?”
She nodded. “Feels like a lot longer, sometimes. And then other times it feels like yesterday.”
She went quiet again, and I realized I’d just heard more in the last five minutes than I had in the entire time she’d been on the farm. In fact, she was being downright chatty.
“Lucy,” I said, “I really hate to ask this, but what exactly did Brad die of? You had said he was ill, but Martin Spunk told me he was paralyzed. That must’ve been a terrible burden, taking care of him.”
She stared into space for a moment, and I wondered if she was going to answer at all. “Yes,” she finally said. “He was paralyzed. A quadriplegic.”
“An accident?” I asked, even though I knew he had fallen down stairs.
She looked at her lap. “An accident. Look, can we talk about this another time? I’m….My brain doesn’t function too well after midnight.”
“Good grief, is it that late?”
The clock on the wall said twelve-thirty. I shuddered. Five-o’clock was going to come mighty early.
“All right,” I said reluctantly. “We can talk about it another time. And we need to discuss your salary and benefits, too, but that definitely needs clear heads.”
She walked toward the door.
“Sorry there’s only one bed in the apartment,” I said.
She waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. If Tess starts kicking me in the kidneys, I’ll move to the sofa. Besides, I’m so pooped from today I don’t think I’ll move an inch once I hit the pillow.”
I knew what she meant. The way I was feeling I might not even make it out of my chair.
Chapter Nineteen
My alarm clock might as well have punched me in the head, the way I felt when it went off.
By the time I got to the kitchen my eyes were staying open without too much extra effort, and I noticed the blinking light on my phone. In all the excitement and exhaustion last night I had forgotten about it.
I pushed the button and listened to Abe stumble through a message at about eight-o’clock the night before.
“Stella, it’s…it’s me. I just wanted to talk. Can you call me when you get in tonight? It doesn’t matter how late it is. Well, that’s it. Talk to you soon. Bye.”
I closed my eyes. He was probably all worked up about that kiss I’d given him that afternoon. Maybe I would have been, too, if I’d had the time or energy to think about it. Perhaps the fact it hadn’t even entered my dreams should have told me something.
Another message came on, from two hours later. Abe again.
“Stella? I guess you’re not in yet. I hope everything’s all right. Call me, okay?”
I sighed and rubbed my temples. Five-fifteen in the morning was too early to be worrying about whether or not I should have kept my hands—or lips—off of him. I wasn’t going to roust him out of bed before dawn to discuss our relationship. And I certainly wasn’t going to call him at work and have him talking about personal stuff where everyone in the Rockefeller Dairy community could hear him. I hoped he would be okay with waiting till the afternoon to hash it over. I was sure I’d be hashing it over myself until then.
After chugging a glass of orange juice, I went to work and got through most of the milking on autopilot. By the time Temple Radio had played through several symphonies and the cows were meandering out of their stalls, Lucy was walking Tess to the end of the driveway to wait for the bus. Lucy looked as bushed as I felt.
I had switched the radio to WMMR, and Aerosmith was singing “Walk This Way” when Lucy made it into the barn.
I handed her the pitchfork. “Can you finish this? I need some food. And the calves haven’t gotten their colostrum and formula yet. If you wouldn’t mind….”
“Glad to. That way I can check out our baby.”
“She’s all yours.”
I was almost to the door when she stopped me.
“Stella?”
I turned around.
“You were asking me some things last night. About Brad.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Do we really need to talk about it? I mean, for me to keep my job here?”
I studied her expression. Worried, and hard. What was she hiding?
“Look,” I said. “I need breakfast. How about I come back out in a half hour? We can talk then.”
Her lips formed a grim line, and she bent over the pitchfork.
The milk truck pulled in as I walked toward the house, and I waved to the driver. We had a new guy as of a month before, and while I liked him okay, I didn’t feel like getting to know him. Call it paranoia, call it snobbishness, I don’t care. I was too hungry to be nice, anyway.
A bowl of oatmeal with raisins later and I felt like a new woman. Well, almost. A nice slab of scrapple with apple butter would have tasted mighty good, but there wasn’t any in the fridge. Big surprise.
Lucy was still working in the parlor, and I had some business phone calls to make, so I went out to my office. It was now after that magic hour of eight, when most regular people are on the job, so I hoped I could catch a few of them. As soon as I opened the door I noticed the frames from Abe sitting on my desk. Damn. Without looking at the pictures I stacked them face down in Howie’s box, where I wouldn’t have to see them. I supposed I’d have to do something with the whole stash soon, but it was too early in the morning for that kind of emotion.
Lucy was in the milkhouse chatting with Doug, the new trucker, w
hen I found her twenty minutes later. Doug gave me what I guessed was a smile if I could’ve seen it under his huge mustache. He was a middle-aged guy, dressed in white pants and a red shirt with the truckline’s emblem on the chest.
“I take it you met my new hire?” I said.
He nodded. “Good to see you have some help. Can’t say I was worried about you, but everybody can use a hand now and again.”
“I’m beginning to realize that, myself.” I turned to Lucy. “You want to come talk for a minute?”
Looking grim again, she said her good-byes to Doug and followed me back through the parlor to my office, where I sank into my chair. I’d start with the easy stuff. “Ready to talk about finances?”
“Sure.” She sat on the edge of the chair in front of the desk. “Abe got my particulars, so I think the details are taken care of.”
“The salary and benefits sound good to you?”
Lucy turned pink. “I felt pretty dumb when I realized I’d left our interview on Friday with no idea what I’d be making. I was just so glad to have the job. But yes, everything sounds fine.”
“Mennonite Mutual Aid is our insurance. You’re okay with that?”
“I think it’s great. I’ve always wished I could go with them, but Brad’s employer only offered Blue Cross, and that was the one we used.”
The Mennonite Church’s insurance carrier, MMA, is a bit different from most, their premiums actually going to pay for other members’ claims. Thus the “Mutual” in the name. You end up in the hospital after a heart attack, it’s my money that’s partially paying your stay. While the cost is sometimes a bit more, MMA makes up for it with friendly service and the feeling that if I need help, the other members will back me up, too.
“Good,” I said. “Now, are you okay for this month money-wise, or do you need an advance on your salary?”
“Actually….” She wrinkled her nose. “Brad’s life insurance has kept us pretty well, so I haven’t had to worry. Thanks, though.”
I hesitated, then asked casually, “So in other words, you’re not working for the money, but for the love of cows?”
She grunted. “Can’t say that. I want the money left over from Brad’s insurance to go right for Tess’ college account, and if I wouldn’t work, that would disappear quickly into the black hole of living expenses.”
How well I understood. “Do you have a house in Lancaster you’ll be selling?”
She shook her head. “My brother is living in it for now. He got married last spring, and it works out nicely for them. Why do you ask?”
I hated to say I was checking up on her, so I said, “Just curious.”
I mustn’t have been too convincing, because her face darkened.
“So now we’re getting to the things you really want to know?” Her voice was tinged with anger.
I sat forward and rested my elbows on the desk. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but I’m feeling a little nervous. You probably think there are things that aren’t even close to being my business, but I have to take care of my farm.”
“And my personal life is threatening it somehow?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
I stared at her. “Have you forgotten what happened the other night?”
“It was just graffiti.”
Just graffiti. “Lucy, in all my life I have never had anyone paint obscenities on my buildings. I can’t believe it’s because of anything I did.”
“So you believe what it said?”
“I didn’t say that.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Looking at Lucy again I said, “Just tell me something to ease my mind. Besides the graffiti, I’ve had an anonymous phone call warning me about you—”
“What?”
“—been told Lancaster rumors, and have seen an unwelcome visitor here at the farm.”
“You mean Noah?”
“Yes.”
“For heaven’s sake. He’s harmless.”
I studied her, wondering why she’d been so worked up when he’d come if he was as harmless as she asserted. “What it comes down to,” I said, “is that I need some assurance you’re the honest, dedicated worker I’ve thought from the beginning, and that my farm isn’t in danger.”
Her jaw tightened and she looked like she was holding in angry words. Not that I could blame her.
“So please tell me something,” I said. “Anything.”
“Like, ‘No, Stella, I didn’t kill my husband’?”
I shrugged. “That would do.”
She bent her head to her chest. “Perhaps I should just leave. Take Tess back to Lancaster.”
“Right back where the rumors are coming from? Don’t be an idiot. If you tell me my instincts are right-on, I’ll be more than happy to hear it. And I won’t ask again.”
She sat silently.
“Come on, Lucy. Don’t let this end already.”
She thrust her chin out. “You got a phone call? Saying what?”
“That someone was concerned for my well-being, and the well-being of my farm.”
I could see the war being fought behind her eyes. Does she throw a fit and storm out, ripping herself and Tess from what had seemed a great situation, or believe in my integrity and tell me something? I held my breath, hoping she’d decide to trust me. I really didn’t want to lose her.
Finally, her mouth twitched. “That call was pretty ridiculous. Like you’re not way tougher than me.”
Relieved, I smiled. “I don’t know. You’re much better with a gun. Even though you are a pacifist.”
I waited, but she didn’t share any more. Dammit. But I decided I’d done enough pushing. For now. “Okay. I have something else I want to run by you, as we’re figuring out what exactly your job description will be.”
Still a bit wary, she cocked her head. “What’s that?”
“Abe’s trying to talk me into sideline incomes, and I’m wondering if that’s something you and Tess might want to take on. I know some folks who run a vegetable stand during the summer that pays for their taxes. Some others are opening an ice cream parlor. The garden would have to wait till next year, but Abe also suggested some fall family activities. You want to think about that?”
Her expression relaxed a bit. “Sure. Do you care what kind of thing I come up with?”
“Nope. As long as I don’t have to be in charge of it. Why don’t we just make it part of your job description?”
She stood up. “Sounds good to me. That will leave you free for other things. I’ll get right on it.”
I waited, but she didn’t move.
“What?” I asked.
“We’re okay? You don’t want to know anything else?”
“Not right now,” I said.
She hesitated, obviously not knowing what to think of that, but finally left the office. I tilted my face down to rest my head on my hands. I’d be free for other things, Lucy had said.
The conversation had taken what little energy I’d had, and I still wasn’t satisfied with what I’d learned.
I let my head drop down on my desk, and took a nap.
Chapter Twenty
A half hour and a new ache in my neck later, I opened heavy eyes. In my mind I knew there was a lot to do around the farm, but my body was obviously telling me I needed to take a break. And with Lucy around to work, my body was able to win this round.
Remembering Lenny’s invitation to stop by the Barn and get a surprise, I decided to take him up on it. I figured I should let Lucy know where I’d be, and found her on the back side of the house, checking out the yard.
“What’cha doing?” I asked.
“Thinking about the addition to my job description. If we use this back part of the yard, we could have a little fall festival here. Games for kids, hayrides, nothing that would have too many out of pocket expenses. We could sell cider and—”
“Luce,” I said, “it sounds great. Go with it.”
“For real?�
�
“If you can make some extra money and I don’t have to do the planning, I’m all for it. I’d better check with my insurance guy, though, just to be sure everything’s okay on that front. Now, I’m heading over to the Biker Barn. I’ll be back in a little while.”
She licked her lips. “You going to see Lenny?”
“Yeah, he asked me to come by. Want me to tell him something?”
She turned away. “No. No thanks.”
“Okay, see you later.”
I whistled for Queenie and was at the Biker Barn in fifteen minutes. I thought I’d prevent any offense and just had Queenie stay outside this time.
Bart was sending another HOG club member away with some parts as I pushed open the door.
“So what’s my surprise?” I asked.
Bart grinned. “Come with me.”
We barged into the shop, where Lenny was at the sink, cleaning his hands with Fast Orange.
“Stella’s wondering about her present,” Bart said.
Lenny grunted, then gestured at me to come closer. When I got within reach, he spun me around.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m looking at a piece-of-shit bike. What about it?”
Lenny glowered at me, but Bart laughed.
“It’s for you,” Bart said. “Until we get yours running again.”
“Yeah, right. Like this thing runs.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Bart said.
I looked at Lenny, who gave me a half-hearted nod. I moved closer to check out the bike.
It was an old Sportster, if one could see through the battle scars. Some wanna-be mechanic had made a hash of it. The tank was a nice combo of rust, dingers, and ugly brown paint, while the fenders were painted a cross between green and puce. The front fender, in addition, had been chopped in half in the hopes it would look more bad-ass. Instead, it looked stupid. The seat was a two-person affair, one of the big blocky seats Harley tried that never caught on, and a nice mix of regular bolts and spike bolts held the bike together. A couple of chrome covers had been added, sporting bright gold, flashy skulls in stark relief. The rest of the bike doesn’t need detailed description. You just need to know it was ugly as hell.