by Lin Stepp
Jenna paled and put her hand over her mouth in shock while Jason talked.
“Oh, Jason, I am so sorry,” she responded, when he finally finished. “I knew Elliott didn’t like me working here, but I had no idea he would come here and approach you. He had no right to do that. I really don’t know what to say.”
“Say you won’t change your mind about getting rid of him.” Jason grinned broadly at Jenna. “You deserve better. I’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate when the divorce is final. Park Press will even pick up the tab for the meal.”
Jenna smiled in spite of herself. “I’ll look forward to that,” she said. “And thanks, Jason, for your encouragement. It’s been especially helpful right now.”
“It’s genuine,” stated Jason, getting up to see her out.
Jenna turned to go.
“Oh, wait a minute.” Jason stopped her. “I forgot to give you my gift. We’ll call it a moving present.” He went over to a cabinet and dug through a box.
“Here,” he said, at last, bringing out four framed art works. “These are four of your prints we blew up for a promotional and then put in some simple black frames. See if you can find a spot for them in your new place. Celebrate yourself, Jenna. Put your own art up on the walls.”
She looked at them with pleasure. “Thanks, Jason. I’ll do that.”
Jenna left in better humor and with a lighter heart. For the first time in a long time, she began to look forward to the future.
Back in Townsend, Boyce felt less enthusiastic about his future. He missed Jenna. He worried about her daily. His life felt flat without her. Even Patrick missed her. He ran over to Sam’s place every time they went out, looking for her. When Boyce went to check the cabin, Patrick nosed through the house searching for Jenna, only to come back disappointed, his tail no longer wagging with eagerness. Boyce knew just how he felt.
“Have you talked to her?” Una asked him. “Did she make it up to New York safely? Is she all right?”
Boyce frowned. “Sam says she’s all right.”
Una crossed her arms. “And why haven’t you talked to her, Boyce Hart? Charlotte said Jenna was real upset not to get to say goodbye to you.”
She paused with the feather duster she was using to dust the pictures in the gallery. “It looked pretty obvious to anybody with eyes that you and Jenna had a thing going for each other.”
Boyce looked at her in annoyance. “Jenna is still a married woman, Una. Or have you forgotten that?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Well, excuse me! It seems like the story I heard was that she was going to get a divorce.”
“Yeah, well she hasn’t gotten it yet.” Boyce snapped out his reply crossly.
Una studied him. “You know, my sister Louise got a divorce. It was a really hard time for her. It seems to me like Jenna could use all the friends she can get right now.”
Boyce slammed a bird house he’d picked up onto the counter in irritation. “Fine, Una. Then you call Jenna and have a nice chat with her. You and she were friends, too. I wasn’t her only friend down here.”
Una rolled her eyes dramatically. “Chill out, Boyce. Gee.” She turned her back on him and walked into the back room.
Boyce repeated almost the same conversation with Raynelle that afternoon. It gave him a pain around the heart.
“Look, Raynelle. Jenna told me she didn’t want me calling her in New York while she sorted everything out. It doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about her.”
Raynelle tilted her head to one side. “You know, Sam doesn’t even seem to know there was anything going on between you two.”
“Jenna didn’t want him to know, Raynelle. She didn’t think he would understand.” He ran his hand through his hair. “After all, she’d come down here to try to get over a failed relationship. It wasn’t exactly the time to start up another one.”
Raynelle put an arm around his waist affectionately. “Love ain’t always nice about when she shows up, is she?”
“No.” Boyce sighed.
She looked thoughtful then. “Do you think Jenna will come back when all this is past?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “She had a whole other life in New York before she came here. And Townsend’s a far cry from New York City in every way. This might have just been a healing place for her.”
“That’s a possibility.” Raynelle straightened a few items on a store shelf. “I guess only time will tell.”
Boyce caught Raynelle’s eyes. “Don’t tell Sam anything about this, okay? It’s Jenna’s place to do that if she wants to. I don’t think she told any of her friends up there about us. She thought they wouldn’t understand.”
“I see.” She gave him a sympathetic look.
Boyce started out of the Apple Barn, certainly not feeling any better for his talk with Raynelle.
“I’ve probably just made a dang fool of myself again,” he said, slamming a cabinet door shut in the shop. “Maybe it’s just not in the cards for me to ever find happiness in love.”
Boyce painted moodily in his studio for the next several days, trying not to think too much about Jenna. He promised her he wouldn’t call and he meant to keep that promise. But that didn’t mean he could stop thinking about her. Or wondering how she was getting along.
At night he physically ached for her. Sometimes he got up and sat in front of the fire for hours, warring with his emotions.
He completed the painting of Jenna that he started. It had almost been a relief to take it to Haldeman’s with his other paintings for the show. It hurt him to look at it.
His saving balms in this bad time were his weekly talks with Sam. He’d always called Sam to check on him - and he continued to do so. Through Sam he kept up – in part - with what was going on with Jenna. She wasn’t having an easy time of it, and Boyce hated that he couldn’t be there for her – to be a strength and comfort to her.
“How are you doing, Son?” his mother asked when he was over at her house for dinner one night.
There was no point in lying to his mother. “Not so good. But I reckon I’ll heal in time.”
“She’ll come back if she’s supposed to,” his mother said. “Her heart will call her back. I told you that.”
He gave her an anguished look. “And what if it doesn’t? What if it’s ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ with her?”
She studied him. “You said she made you promise not to call her, right?”
He nodded sullenly.
Her face brightened. “But did she say you couldn’t write, Son?”
“What’s the difference?” He gave her a cross look.
“You’re not thinking smart, Boyce. There’s a lot of difference.” She smiled at him. “If she didn’t make you promise not to write, then you can write to her. Keep yourself in her thoughts.”
She patted his arm fondly. “You write a nice letter. I’ve gotten a few from you over the years when you were traveling.” She paused remembering. “You always drew me little pictures, tucked in special items you thought would please me. I liked that. Women like that sort of thing, Son.”
A flash of hope surged up in Boyce’s middle. “You don’t think she’ll be angry if I write to her?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I think it might make her heart right glad. The poor thing is probably going through a real rough time. She could use a friend.”
Boyce thought about this. “I could send the letter to Sam. He’d give it to her.”
“I’d say he would.” His mother’s eyes twinkled.
“I’ll think on it,” he told her. But he already knew he would try it. He’d promised her he wouldn’t call. There was sense in that, he guessed. But he’d never promised her he wouldn’t write.
Boyce thought on the letter and worked on it off and on for a couple of days. He drew pictures for Jenna. He found pressed wildflowers from their hike at Porter’s Creek and decided she might enjoy having a few to remember that day. While hiking another trail on Rich Mount
ain he found a small, white quartz rock on the trail – an almost perfect one. He tucked it in his pocket, thinking Jenna might enjoy it. He chose some other small gifts to send her – mostly things he found outdoors.
And he prayed a lot about what he should say to her. If ever he needed help from a higher power, it was certainly now.
Chapter 19
Jenna moved into her new apartment on the weekend. It was small but she made it homey by bringing in favorite things and hanging her own pictures on the wall. The reds, blues, and tans of the old oriental rugs inspired a nice color scheme, and it was fun for Jenna to give her own creativity free reign in decorating her new place.
By Monday, Jenna finished the last of her unpacking and treated herself by going to Sam’s for lunch. Elliott was not being released from the hospital until Tuesday, so Jenna knew she had one more day to come and go in the old apartment building with no risk of running into him.
Lunch consisted of one of Mary’s casseroles with homemade rolls and a fresh fruit salad. Everything tasted delicious, as always, and Jenna enjoyed catching up with Sam on all the news in his life. She gave him updates about herself, too.
“Everything is going to work out all right, Jenna. You’ll see.” He patted her hand. “You’re going to find that ‘all things are going to work for good for you,’ just like the Bible scripture.”
“You sound like Boyce.” This popped out before Jenna thought.
Sam turned his eyes to hers. “Boyce’s daddy was a good preacher, you know. Frances and I went to his church for many a year before he passed. I was always sorry C. J. Hart died so young.”
He paused and snapped his fingers. “Speaking of Boyce, he sent me something to give to you. I think it’s your last paycheck. I forgot to mention it to you when we talked this morning. Sorry about that.” He rolled his chair over to a side table to fumble in a drawer. “Looks like Boyce might have sent you something else with your check. It’s a right big envelope.”
Jenna felt her heart beating so hard in her chest that she thought she might have an anxiety attack. She tried to paste a casual smile on her face so Sam wouldn’t notice.
“I caught him up on your news, too,” Sam said, watching her. “Actually, I offered to give him the phone number over at Carla’s so he could call you. I didn’t think you would mind that. But he said he didn’t think he ought to call. Said you told him it would be best if you were just on your own for a while with all you had to sort out.” He stopped, studying the package from Boyce while he thought.
Then he looked at her with a small frown. “We can never have enough friends in this life. Especially good friends. Those folks in Townsend have come to think of you as a friend, Jenna. It surprises me that you wouldn’t want to keep in touch with them.”
Jenna found herself twisting her fingers in her lap, wondering how to answer. Finally, she said, “I’m hoping to keep up with everyone, Sam. I loved it there. It was one of the happiest times of my life. I think about everyone there all the time.”
“Well,” Sam replied, smiling now. “That sounds a bit more like you. So maybe you’ll give Boyce a call, tell him you got his package, give him your new phone number. Stay in touch.”
Jenna dropped her eyes to study her hands again. How could she answer him?
Sam watched her. “You know,” he said, thoughtfully. “Boyce talked in a different sort of way than I can ever remember him talking to me before. A little strained. Tiptoeing all around normal questions and comments. Acting oddish just like you are. Got me to wondering.” He scratched his chin. “Now with you acting the same way, it’s got me to wondering even more. Anything you want to talk about to me?”
Jenna looked up at Sam with anguish in her eyes. “Not just now, Sam. It’s confusing.” A couple of tears threatened in the corners of her eyes, and she knew Sam could see that she was trying to hold them back.
“There, there, girl,” he said soothingly, patting her arm in a comforting way. “You don’t need to tell me a thing you don’t want to. You’ve had about all a body can take emotionally in this last week with Elliott and your mother going at you. And you had to move and change everything in your life. There’s time enough to sort out anything else later on. You know I’ll always be around if you need an ear to bend.”
“Thanks, Sam,” she answered him quietly, still studying her hands in her lap instead of looking at him directly.
“I guess I’m too much of a nosy old man sometimes,” he muttered. “I ought to mind my own business more.”
She looked up, upset at his words. “Oh, no, Sam. You’re not nosy and you’re not old, either. I love you caring about me the way you do and even wanting to know my business. It’s just that this time it’s hard to share.”
Sam laughed. “I’ve not forgotten about young things and young ways, Jenna. Boyce grumbled at me, too, when I asked him too many questions, and he called me a devious old matchmaker.”
“Surely he didn’t say that to you!” Jenna exclaimed without thinking. She felt a deep blush creep over her face. “I told him he was all wrong about that.”
“Well, well, well,” said Sam smugly. “I admit I thought the two of you might make good friends, you having a lot in common, but I never thought things would go this well. I’m absolutely delighted. Two of my most favorite people in this world.”
Jenna sat forward. “Now, listen, Sam. I don’t want you building this into one of your little stories. It’s just that a few feelings got stirred up. There was some attraction, I admit, but that’s all it was. I don’t want you thinking more.”
“Oh, not me.” Sam waved a hand with a grin of insincerity. “I’m sure you know more about all of this than me, anyway. And if there’s any telling to be done about you and Boyce, I’ll leave that story to you.”
Jenna eyed him warily.
“So, are you gonna call him?” Sam grinned.
“No,” she said emphatically. “I don’t think that’s wise right now. And that’s my choice to make, Sam.” She took the envelope out of his hand.
“You gonna open it?” He eyed it curiously.
“No. I think I’ll just wait until later.” She tried to sound nonchalant. “Right now I’d rather visit with you.” She gave him a big smile.
He laughed. “Girl, if there was a contest for trying to lie, you’d lose big every time. So I think you’d be better off just telling the truth to me.”
Jenna studied the package in her hands.
“I might cry when I open it,” she told him, honestly. “And I’d rather be by myself if that was to happen.”
“I can understand that.” He nodded, patting her arm again.
Jenna got up and put the package with her purse and coat by the door, hoping she wouldn’t think about it so much if she weren’t holding it.
When she got up, Sam wheeled his chair away from the table and into the living room. After cleaning up their dishes from lunch, Jenna came over to sit in her favorite chair beside him.
“You know what Boyce told me?” Sam said, picking up their conversation again.
“What?” Jenna sighed inwardly, hoping he wasn’t going to quiz her about her feelings about Boyce again.
He gave her a pleased grin. “Boyce told me if I keep improving that you might drive me down to see the old place again. Said you and he talked about it. He suggested you could cook for me and do the home chores while he and Will Lanksy helped me manage around the cabin. He said everyone there would kick in to help and that they would all be real glad to see me again. “
“That’s true, you know. Everyone would love to see you again.” She smiled at Sam, relieved the conversation had shifted away from her personal life. “Would you like to go, Sam?”
“Can’t think of much I’d like better.” He grinned at her. “Maybe we’ll think about it some more when all of this trouble is past with you.”
“Yes, that would be a better time.” A lump filled her throat.
“You know,” Sam confided thoug
htfully. “I’ve been wondering why you’ve avoided telling me tales about Orchard Hollow since you got back. Do you suppose now that we’ve had this little talk and cleared the air – that you might feel better about catching me up on things? I promise I’ll not probe into any places you don’t want to go right now. Or at least I’ll try.” He gave her a devilish look.
Jenna gave him an exasperated glance.
“I already told you what I did at Orchard Hollow, Sam. I called you nearly every day on the phone,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, but like you’ve told me many a time, it’s always good to hear the stories about Orchard Hollow again.”
She laughed. “That’s the truth. It always is.”
He eyed her speculatively. “And I’m sure you’ve got some more stories you missed telling me on the phone.”
She stopped to think for a minute. “Have I told you the story about how Raynelle accidentally locked Vernon out of the house one night – and how he had to sleep on the porch swing? He said he was afraid to go knocking on the door in the middle of the night because Raynelle might get her gun out and shoot first and ask questions later. She did that once when there was a possom on the porch, and Vernon said if that possom hadn’t outrun her with that gun then he wouldn’t have a chance of doing so either. He figured the porch was safer.”
Sam laughed and slapped his leg. “No, you haven’t told me that one,” he said, grinning with delight already. “Tell me another story, Jenna; tell me all the things everybody said and did. All the little details.”
“Okay. If you want.” Jenna settled back in her chair. “I know a few more stories I haven’t told you - including a cute one about Tyler Dean trying to trade out Jennie Rae to the boy next door for a tricycle he wanted. The trade worked out pretty good until Charlotte started looking for Jennie Rae. She’d left her out on the porch in her stroller while she went in the house to start supper, but when she came back, there was no sign of the baby or the stroller. Tyler Dean braved it out, saying he didn’t know what could have happened to her until Charlotte started to get almost hysterical. Then Tyler Dean suggested that the stroller just might have rolled on over to the Greeley’s next door.”