As she drove the truck slowly down the road, she wondered aloud, “Did Chris just hold onto my hand a little longer than necessary?” Her heart beat a little faster when she relived the scene at the pond. “Okay, MJ, admit it, you’re attracted to her.”
She let out a sigh and turned the truck toward home.
With her hands in her pockets, Chris watched Mary Jo walk to her truck. When she heard the ignition and the vehicle began to move, she waved once. She found herself wishing Mary Jo had stayed a bit longer.
She had to admit she’d had fun giving her a little tour. She’d been excited to show off her property, although it wasn’t the first time she had shown someone around the place. It was old hat, actually. She had given countless tours to potential boarders, but for some reason, this time it was different. When showing Mary Jo around, she had felt more pride in what she’d accomplished.
That Mary Jo had seen her naked didn’t bother her. Although not vain, she knew she had a nice body. Thanks to Bill, her confidence and self-esteem were sound, although emotionally, she tended to remain guarded around unfamiliar people. That guard had slipped a little around Mary Jo, which made her somewhat uncomfortable. Other than Frances, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fun with another woman. The bar didn’t count.
Given more time, well, they just might become good friends, and there weren’t many people Chris could honestly call a friend.
Chapter 8
On Thursday morning, Chris drove in the direction of Frances’s farm. She had skipped visiting Angie’s Bar, preferring to pick up the grain the previous evening because she wanted to get an early start. Nearly every day for a week, she’d been coming over and cutting wood for Frances’s winter heat. Today she could start splitting and piling. Fortunately, Frances had a gas wood-splitter; otherwise, she would have to do it by hand.
As she drove, Chris thought about Mary Jo’s visit the day before. She had to admit the woman who’d driven away was a far cry from the one who had tested her patience a few days ago. Mary Jo seemed interested in her activities on the farm, but why wouldn’t she be? She was a vet, for God’s sake. It had been fun showing her around, and for the first time in a long time, Chris had felt some sort of no-strings connection with another woman.
Although cloudy, the weatherman had promised no rain. Chris thought he was insane to make a promise like that. All his prediction did was ensure it would rain.
She turned into the drive, and the girls sat up from their sleep as usual when she reached Frances’s home. Chris automatically looked for Daisy, who should be waiting in the middle of the road. She didn’t see the Blue Heeler. A hollow feeling formed in the pit of her stomach, and she felt the blood drain from her face.
Where the heck was she? Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. Trusting her instincts, she pressed harder on the gas pedal. “Hang on, girls.”
Her tires dug into the gravel as she sped down the drive. Memories of finding Bill in his chair that awful morning rushed back to her. Sweat formed on her brow. She felt queasy. The driveway seemed to go on forever. Her sole comfort lay in the fact that Daisy wouldn’t leave Frances if something was wrong. Oh, God, I can’t lose Frances. Dust rose in thick clouds as she raced down the dirt drive. Oh, God. Oh, God.
Chris blindly skidded the truck to a stop in front of the porch, pushed the door open, and rushed toward the house. The dogs seemingly sensed her panic and remained in the truck. Taking a second to prepare herself for the worst, she stopped, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she became aware of a familiar truck in her peripheral vision, the vehicle parked next to the barn.
Shit, something happened to one of the horses. There must not have been time to call me. Increased concern replaced panic. Chris ran to the barn and halted abruptly at the door. She thought she heard laughter. “What the hell?” she asked aloud.
She opened the door wide and almost ran into Frances and Mary Jo on their way out. Mary Jo was carrying her doctor’s bag in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. And walking beside them was a bright-eyed Daisy, trying her best to get Mary Jo’s attention.
Frances stopped short in surprise. “Whoa, where’s the fire?”
“Little traitor,” Chris muttered to the dog and tried to calm down. She didn’t trust herself to answer Frances right away.
Daisy took two quick hops up on her hind legs and rested her front paws on Chris’s right leg. Apparently realizing that if Chris was here, so were her friends, she dashed out the door.
“Chris, are you okay?” Frances tried to catch Chris’ eyes and finally succeeded.
Chris nodded. She was close to tears and didn’t want to embarrass herself by crying. She was glad the shadows of the barn hid her face. She had been so scared, only now realizing how much she depended on Frances.
As she turned away, she mumbled, “I’ve got to unload the feed. I’ll be in when I’m done.” She went out the door and almost stumbled to her truck. She caught a glimpse of the open driver’s side door and realized she couldn’t remember anything between arriving and getting to the barn door. She glanced into the cab and saw the dogs still sitting there. Additionally, Daisy sat in the front seat with them as she usually did on their rides in.
With a smile she didn’t feel, Chris gave the girls the go-ahead to get out. In a split second, they were out and running, leaving a trail of dust in their wake. She was still trying to compose herself when she grabbed the steering wheel and hauled herself up into the truck to move it closer to the barn.
Fortunately, Frances and Mary Jo had already gone to the house, so Chris took her time unloading the feed from the truck. She thought about how close she had come to completely losing it in front of them.
If she lost Frances, her world would come undone as it had when Bill died. Was her current emotional upheaval a remnant of the turmoil her family had caused before she ran away? Was it because, until Bill, she hadn’t had a father figure who cared? Or was it because she needed to face the fact that she was lonely?
Oh, her dogs and horses filled a huge void in her life. They kept her busy and entertained. Although not much of a conversationalist, she didn’t mind occasional small talk, as long as it didn’t center on her. Other than Bill, Frances was the only one in the world who knew anything about her ugly past. It had taken Chris a long time to learn to trust someone. Frances was the only person she could honestly depend on.
Chris sagged against the feed bin as she tried hard to suppress her jangled nerves. The only way to repress these feelings was to work until she dropped from exhaustion. She wouldn’t be using the log splitter today. She took the axe from the nail on the wall, grabbed the wedge from the shelf that hung over the tool bench, and went to split the logs as she’d promised.
Frances and Mary Jo watched Chris stalk to her truck. “Let’s go on up to the house and get breakfast going,” Frances said.
Mary Jo glanced at Frances and saw the concern in her expression. She heard the truck start as they stepped onto the porch, but she didn’t dare look back. Something had happened at the barn that she didn’t understand.
When Chris had swung the barn door open, Mary Jo felt her panic. Her blue eyes had been wide with alarm, and her shoulders tightly hunched. But what had scared Chris so much?
She didn’t know Frances or Chris well enough individually, let alone the nature of the history they obviously shared, to even guess at the cause. She decided to go with the flow. If either offered an explanation, that would be fine. Until then, she would let them deal with what was clearly a private matter between them.
Frances led the way into the house, and Mary Jo followed her into the kitchen. She looked around while Frances busied herself at the stove.
The back door led straight into the kitchen, a small room typical of older homes. The linoleum floor was old, wrinkled, and cracked throughout the well-used areas. Green-painted walls topped ceramic tiles that rose four feet from the floor. The ceiling
was brown with age. Mary Jo saw a sink in a room off the kitchen and guessed it was a small bathroom. An old maple table and chairs sat to one side of the room, allowing space to get into the cupboards lining the far wall, while the stove and refrigerator occupied the right wall. An open door to the immediate right led to a woodshed, and down the stairs, an opening she assumed led to the basement.
Frances set the table for three. The delicious aroma of fresh cinnamon scones and coffee filled Mary Jo’s senses, making her mouth water and her stomach growl.
Frances had called her last night to ask if she could come this morning to check on Gordon’s eye. She coupled that with an invitation to stay for breakfast, which Mary Jo happily accepted. She didn’t mention that Chris would be here as well.
Frances took the bacon and a dozen eggs out of the fridge. She unwrapped the bacon, placed it in a frying pan, and turned on the stove burner. She cracked nine eggs into a bowl, added some milk, salt, and pepper and briskly whisked them together before dumping the contents of the bowl into a separate frying pan. She lit another stove burner and set the pan on a low flame.
“Mary Jo, would you please watch the bacon and eggs while I go see what’s taking Chris so long?”
Mary Jo set her bag down, moved to the oven, and took the spatula that Frances offered her. “Sure,” she replied, but Frances was already out the door, striding purposefully in the barn’s direction.
She idly moved the congealing eggs around the pan and turned the bacon slices over. I wonder what in the hell is going on with those two?
* * *
Frances opened the barn door and smiled to see that Chris had begun to grab for the handle from the inside. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she said.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Chris replied.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” Frances reached out and grabbed Chris’s chin, concerned about the tears threatening to escape.
“Yeah.” Chris wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I just kind of flipped a little. All kinds of things started going through my head.”
“Did something happen?” Frances asked.
Chris’s laugh sounded half-hearted. “When I turned into your drive, Daisy wasn’t there. I was afraid something had happened to you, and I got scared.”
Frances knew it took a lot for Chris to make such an admission. “Oh, Chris, I’m fine. I asked Mary Jo to come over and check on Gordy today. Daisy was waiting for you at the top of the drive as usual, and Mary Jo gave the little brat a ride to the house.” Frances smiled and gazed at Chris until she got a smile in return.
“Come on, let’s go eat breakfast,” she said. “Mary Jo is going to wonder what happened to us. I left her in the kitchen with a spatula.” Frances looped her arm through Chris’s and tugged her through the open barn door.
“I feel sort of foolish about what happened.” Chris took a step and stopped. “You know how much you mean to me, right?”
“Of course I do. And I love you, too,” Frances said softly. She pulled Chris into her arms and hugged her tight. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’re going to make me cry again.” Chris sniffled as Frances kissed her cheek.
“Okay, I’m okay, really,” Chris said. “Let’s go eat, I’m starved.”
She looked more settled, but Frances was keenly aware of how close Chris had come to losing her composure. Although this time wasn’t as close as when she’d helped Chris get through the dark days of mourning following Bill’s death. She had recruited neighbors to help with the farm when Chris couldn’t get out of bed. Despite Frances’s ongoing encouragement, depression had dominated Chris’s world.
Feeling lifeless and without purpose wasn’t new to Frances. She had known Chris needed to overcome those feelings before she could heal. When Chris finally emerged from the veil of sadness, she had briefly turned to alcohol until one winter’s day, when Frances had stopped by the farm to check on her and found Chris passed out on the couch.
Frances was able to rouse her from the heavy haze of liquor, but Chris had woken in a panic when she realized that she had let the dogs out hours before. Chris ran toward the barn in search of the dogs, not bothering with boots or a coat. Apparently, when Chris hadn’t come to the door to let them in, all three dogs had headed to the barn and snuggled up on their beds in the warm office. From that day forward, Frances made Chris promise to swear off drinking in excess. In return, Frances promised to support her in times of need.
“Now that’s the Chris I know.” Frances put her arm around Chris’s waist as they walked to the house.
Mary Jo turned to greet them as they came in the door. “Hey, you guys, breakfast is ready. I saw you heading up from the barn, so I poured your coffee. Frances, I found the scones in the oven, so everything is on the table.”
“Wow,” Frances said. “This is the life, having breakfast on the table right as you walk into the house. You might have to change your career.”
Mary Jo glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, if we don’t start soon, I might have to eat and run. I have to geld a couple of colts this morning.”
“You can’t operate on an empty stomach. Sit down and eat,” Frances told her.
Chris sat down to eat with Frances and Mary Jo, her eyes downcast as she filled her plate first. She was well into her eggs and third slice of bacon and reaching for her second scone before Mary Jo even lifted her fork. Realizing how quiet it had become, she glanced up at a grinning Frances, who had been watching both her and Mary Jo. Chris looked at Mary Jo, who was staring at her, brown eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.
“What?” Chris exclaimed as scone crumbs dropped from her mouth.
Mary Jo’s expression didn’t change. “It’s just that… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody eat that fast before.”
Frances burst out laughing. “Well, Mary Jo, it could be because it seems Chris never eats unless she comes here. I keep telling her she doesn’t eat enough to keep a cricket alive.”
Mary Jo said, “Well, I can understand her being busy at the farm, but how can she keep going if she doesn’t eat?”
“I honestly don’t know. She must eat something, but I really can’t say.”
Chris sat up straight in her chair and rested her forearms on the table. “Um, I’m still here, guys.” Her gaze captured Mary Jo’s. “I can cook and I eat just fine, thank you. I’m just always hungry when I get here.”
Mary Jo boldly returned Chris’s stare as she ate a few bites. “I’ve got to get going,” she said. “Frances, do you mind if I take a scone and a coffee refill?”
“Of course not, dear. You take whatever you want.”
“Thanks.” Turning to Chris, she asked, “You won’t be left hungry if I take one will you?”
Chris met the challenge and raised an eyebrow. “No, I think I can manage to make it on whatever’s left.”
Mary Jo held onto the table and stood. “Thanks so much for breakfast, Frances.” She took a scone from the plate as Frances refilled her coffee mug.
“Good Lord, Mary Jo, thank you. You’re the one who made most of it,” Frances said. “We’ll have to do this again sometime soon.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice. See you.” After a final glance at Chris, she grabbed her doctor’s bag, and headed out the door.
Chris took a sip of coffee and nodded in return. “Yeah, see you.” Without hesitation, she returned her attention to her plate.
“She likes you, you know,” Frances said as soon as they were alone.
Chris glanced up from her plate. She had been avoiding looking at Frances. The woman was far too perceptive. “Uh-huh.” She swallowed the last of her scone. “Well, I should get back to work. That wood isn’t going to split itself.” She started to get up from her chair. Frances frowned, and Chris sat back down. “What?”
“She would be good for you.”
“What are you, a matchmaker now?” Chris narrowed her eyes and scowled. “Plus, you don’t even know that she b
ats for my team.”
“Does she?”
“Well, since you asked, yes, it appears she does. But that’s beside the point.”
“Hon, think about what happened this morning. I just think it would be good for you to have someone your own age to hang around with. I’m not saying that you necessarily need to seek a relationship with her, but you need somebody. A friend. ”
Chris grimaced. “Trying to get rid of me?” she asked in a pout.
Frances’s smile was filled with affection. “Lord, no, I just worry about you. When it gets to be my time, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Chris sighed deeply as she leaned back in her chair. “I know. It’s just, well, you know, I have a hard time with people sometimes.”
Frances got up, went around to Chris’s side of the table, and bent over to hug her. “I know, honey. But you know you can’t have too many friends.”
Chris laughed and leaned into her “Yeah, especially ones that have seen me naked.” She looked up and grinned wickedly at Frances’s surprise. “Mary Jo caught me sleeping at the pond the other day, and no, I didn’t have any clothes on.”
Frances chuckled. “See? Come on, let’s get busy.”
Chris helped Frances clear the table and do the dishes. Familiar and comfortable in silence, they made quick work of the kitchen chores. Chris finished off the bacon, ate the remaining scone, and downed one more cup of coffee as they cleaned.
The four dogs had been resting on the front porch, but jumped to their feet when the door opened. The pack greeted Chris and Frances with wagging tails and happy yips. In a display of good manners, the dogs waited until both women went down the porch steps before leaping off together, already playing.
Clouds had given way to some sun. The wind was pleasant as it rustled loose leaves across the barnyard. Chris believed the weatherman had had a stroke of luck, rather than genius.
She decided that using the gas log splitter would be best after all. She’d gotten over her earlier scare and felt ready to focus on the task at hand.
Laurie Salzer - A Kiss Before Dawn Page 8