Dropped Dead Stitch

by Maggie Sefton

“Yes, your Marty. He made the legal case, and he probably didn’t tell you because if you recall you were still bursting into tears anytime someone mentioned what happened.” She gave Megan an encouraging smile. “So, that’s probably why Marty didn’t say anything.”

  Megan stared at her needles again. “I know, I know.”

  “Good thing Jennifer told you to knock it off, or you’d shrink your yarn.”

  Megan laughed at that.

  “I swear it was all we could do to keep Mimi from finding out,” Kelly said, picturing Mimi Shafer, the motherly shop owner. “She kept wondering why you were tearing up and leaving the table.”

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Megan said, fingers nimbly working the lemon yarn.

  “Thank goodness Mimi believed Jennifer’s story about getting caught in the middle of a bar fight. She was horrified enough to see her scratched, swollen face. If Mimi ever learned the truth, it would break her heart.” Kelly’s voice had dropped lower, so as not to be overheard.

  Other customers had entered the room and were browsing through the yarns. Two of the four walls of the main knitting room were covered with bins brimming over with yarns of wool and mohair, alpaca and silk. The other walls were lined with bookshelves, crammed with books on every fiber topic imaginable—knitting, crocheting, weaving, spinning, dyeing fibers, and every type of garment. And then, there were the magazines. Shelves of them. Kelly was always amazed at the wealth of information that appeared monthly. How could Mimi and her shop “elves” keep up with it all?

  “Great timing,” Jennifer’s voice sounded from the archway leading into the central yarn room. “Things have finally slowed down at the café, so I can take my break. Brother, were we slammed this morning.” Jennifer pulled out a chair beside Kelly and settled in, knitting bag on her lap.

  “Hey, you finished your sweater,” Megan said. “Looks great.”

  Admiring the lime green sweater Jennifer was wearing, Kelly added, “I can’t believe you’re finished. You were still knitting on it day before yesterday.”

  Jennifer removed a pale pink yarn and knitting needles from her bag. “Well, Pete’s catering job last night didn’t take us as long as he thought. I was back home by nine, so I was able to finish off the sweater.”

  “That shade looks great with your hair,” Kelly added, glancing at Jennifer’s auburn shoulder-length hair brushing her shoulders.

  Jennifer started casting pink stitches onto her needles. “Thanks. I was tired of shamrock, and the lime green just called my name.”

  “Gotta get back to work, guys. Don’t forget pizza at our place tonight,” Megan said, gathering the half-finished sweater into her knitting bag. “Marty said he’ll pick up one of those wicked French tortes on the way home.”

  “Those chocolate ones? I’m in,” Jennifer said.

  Kelly playfully complained. “Ever since we’ve been getting together at night, I’ve had to watch my weight. My workouts are taking longer and longer every morning.”

  “Don’t even mention weight,” Jennifer said with a sigh. “We’d better give the desserts to High-Speed Metabolism Megan.”

  “Any extra desserts, we’ll bring over to your place tomorrow night, Kelly,” Megan said as she skirted the table. “Are you doing Thai or Mexican tomorrow? I forgot.”

  “I’ll check with Steve. He keeps track.”

  “Either one is fine by me. I’m omnivorous, unfortunately.” Jennifer’s knitting needles moved faster.

  Megan gave a goodbye wave as she headed out. “See you tonight, guys.”

  Kelly and Jennifer worked in comfortable silence for a while, and Kelly felt that peaceful feeling start to settle in—the meditative state that she’d discovered was an unexpected benefit to the pastime of knitting.

  Then Jennifer spoke softly. “I know what you guys are trying to do.”

  “Do what?” Kelly replied, coming back from the peaceful place.

  “You know what I mean. These last several weeks, we’ve all been getting together several times a week for dinner.”

  Kelly smiled to herself. Jennifer was too sharp not to notice her friends’ attempts to include her in their regular get-togethers. In the three months since the assault, Kelly had watched Jennifer make an astonishing behavioral turnaround. She hadn’t returned to the Fort Connor bar scene. Nights were now occupied with helping her part-time employer, café owner Pete, with his private catering jobs and joining her friends in their scheduled evenings of dinner and DVDs.

  “Hey, it’s fun,” Kelly said, concentrating on her stitches. “Except I’ve gotta learn to say ‘no’ to the desserts.”

  “Well, just for the record, I know you guys are trying to keep me from being all by myself alone and . . . and I think it’s sweet.”

  Kelly grinned at her friend. “Duly noted . . . just for the record.” They continued to work quietly for another few minutes. This time Kelly broke the silence. “How’re you doing, Jen?”

  “Okay,” Jennifer answered, eyes still on her stitches.

  Kelly paused for a second. “I mean . . . how are you really doing?”

  Jennifer kept casting on stitches for a few more seconds. “I’m doing better, Kelly. Really.”

  Kelly released an audible sigh. “I’m so glad, Jen. You look better, too. More . . . I don’t know . . . more relaxed, maybe.”

  Jennifer gave her a little smile. “Yeah. I’m getting there. Moving to a new apartment really helped. And talking with Dr. Norcross, of course. I’ve never talked with anyone like her before.”

  Kelly noticed the lime green sweater had a scalloped neckline, not the turtlenecks Jennifer had been wearing for the last three months. The purple bruises on her neck had finally faded. “It’s a good thing Lisa was taking Dr. Norcross’s class at the university, otherwise she might never have found her.”

  “Hey, just the two I want to see.” Lisa’s voice came from behind them as she suddenly strode into the room. Plopping her oversized knitting bag on the table, Lisa stood over Kelly and Jennifer, hands on hips. “Please tell me you both are free this weekend. Well, all day Friday through Sunday. Please, pretty please.”

  “It depends on what you have in mind,” Jennifer said, without looking up. “If you’re teaching another one of those physical therapist workshops in the mountains, count me out. Being around all those buff, skinny jocks all weekend gave me a complex. And I’ve got enough of those already.”

  “Don’t tell me. You’re teaching another workshop and you need us to do the fiber classes, right?” Kelly glanced up at her friend.

  Lisa swept her long blonde ponytail back into a fabric band. “You’re half right. It’s a workshop in the mountains, all right. But it’s not for physical therapists. And I do need you both to teach the knit and crochet sessions. The two gals who promised to help just called and backed out on me.”

  Kelly ran through her mental daytimer, weighing her workload. Two more days till the weekend. “If I work ahead, I guess I could manage it. What about you, Jen? Would Pete be able to do without your waitressing skills for three days? You up for a spring weekend in the mountains?”

  “Pete would be okay because Sarah could come in and work for me. But I need to check the real estate office and see if I’m scheduled for floor duty this weekend. If not, then I could swing it. No clients have surfaced recently.”

  “We’re going to a ranch up Poudre Canyon, back in the forest,” Lisa tempted.

  “Whoa, that did it. I’m in,” Kelly said. “I’m still fumbling with the crochet hook, so I’ll let you and Jen teach that.”

  “It will be gorgeous up there,” Jennifer agreed. “Yeah, I have to admit I could use some peaceful quiet time in the trees and mountains. Walking in my neighborhood just doesn’t do it for me.”

  “Steve and Greg will probably stock up on pizza while we’re gone,” Lisa said with a grin.

  “Naw, they won’t,” Kelly countered. “Friday night is chili night at Jayleen’s, remember? I bet the whole
crew will show up on Jayleen’s doorstep. Curt’s always over there on chili nights.”

  “Tell Jayleen to save us some,” Lisa said.

  “You can have my share. I’ve gotta cut back. My butt is getting so big, it’s in another time zone,” Jennifer said, starting to knit a row of pink stitches. “By the way, who’s going to be at this workshop anyway? You never said.”

  Lisa’s laughter at Jennifer’s comment quickly faded, and she paused for a moment, her expression sobering. “It’s a workshop for women who’ve experienced sexual violence. Dr. Norcross is running it. I’m helping as part of my internship in the program.”

  Jennifer’s busy needles stopped their rhythmic movements. She stared at Lisa for a long moment. Kelly held her breath, her needles pausing as well, waiting for Jennifer’s reaction.

  “Uhhhh, I don’t know, guys,” she said, glancing back to her yarn, fingers moving slower. “I’m not sure I want to do that. Not with all those strangers.”

  “You don’t have to be in the workshops, Jen,” Lisa reassured her friend. “You can simply be there for the knit and crochet sessions. “But if you wanted to listen in, I’m sure Dr. Norcross wouldn’t mind. You know her.”

  Jennifer kept knitting, slower than before, focusing on the stitches forming, one after another. Lisa said nothing else, simply waited for Jennifer to speak.

  Kelly held her tongue as long as she could before speaking in a soft voice, “It might be good, Jen. With Dr. Norcross there, you know.”

  “Maybe . . . I don’t know,” Jennifer said with a sigh. “I’m not used to a group thing.”

  “Listen, you can just hang with me if you’re not comfortable,” Kelly suggested. “We can hike up there. It’s going to be gorgeous with the spring flowers bursting through the last of the snow cover.”

  “You can go horseback riding, too,” Lisa offered. “The ranch we’re going to has stables as well as cabins and stuff. People can ride every day if they like.”

  “What do you say, Jen?” Kelly said, leaning toward her friend. “A spring weekend in Poudre Canyon. We’ll have a campfire and keep away the bears.”

  “And the mountain lions,” Lisa offered with a wicked grin.

  “That’s supposed to encourage me?” Jennifer shot them both a look.

  “Hey, there will be so much chatter going on, those varmints will head for Cameron Pass,” Kelly promised with a laugh.

  Jennifer released a long sigh. “Okaaaay, you guys. I’ll do it if I can hang out and do my own thing, okay?”

  “Absolutely,” Lisa agreed, nodding vigorously as she caught Kelly’s gaze.

  Kelly and Lisa exchanged a look of careful optimism between them. Fingers crossed.

  Two

  Kelly leaned on the open passenger window of Lisa’s car and watched the craggy rock walls of Poudre Canyon pull away from the road, opening to a meadow where pale green spring grass dared to make its presence known. At this altitude, nighttime temperatures still dropped to freezing. Mountain grass had to be hardy to grow in the canyon.

  “Are we there yet?” Jennifer asked from the backseat for the umpteenth time.

  “Almost,” Lisa replied as she steered around a curve. “In fact, we should be coming to the turnoff in a couple of miles.”

  The road steadily climbed. Kelly saw signs of spring everywhere. Even the scrubby bushes had tinges of green showing in between the brown. Boulders pushed their smooth round shoulders through the ground, where spiky grasses grew out of crevices in the rocks.

  SUVs and cars sped by, kayaks strapped on top. Cars were pulled off to the side of the road—empty. No drivers, no passengers, kayaks stripped from rooftops. They were in the water already. Water thrill seekers out for the day, testing themselves against the fast-running current. Some wouldn’t return.

  “Gorgeous, simply gorgeous,” Kelly repeated, watching the canyon slope upward. “This ranch really is high up. A little farther up the road, and we’ll be at the Pass. I wonder if we’ll be able to see any mountain peaks from the ranch. That would be great.”

  Many Rocky Mountain peaks kept their icy glacial collars throughout the summer, especially the north-facing ones. The sun’s warmth never had a chance to melt them. Ranges like Never Summer were true to their names. Snow glistened on their mountaintops year-round.

  “I’m starting to get that mountain property itch again.”

  “Uh-oh. Better watch out, Jennifer,” Lisa warned playfully. “She’ll want to see properties pretty soon.”

  “Well, we’ve gotten some new listings this month, now that the spring thaw has gotten rid of the ice on the roads. I’ll check them and see if there are any you might like.”

  “Actually, why don’t you look for land parcels this time, Jen,” Kelly suggested.

  “I knew you and Steve would want to build rather than buy,” Lisa declared. “He’s an architect, for Pete’s sake. Greg and I are dying to build a mountain place one of these days. We’ve almost got enough saved to buy some land.”

  “Do you want me to look up here, Kelly?” Jennifer asked, knitting needles still working despite the car’s movements. “Last time, you were in love with Bellevue Canyon.”

  “Yeah, and I have to admit I’m still partial to that location. For one thing, it’s closer to Fort Connor.” She checked her watch. “This canyon is gorgeous, with the river and all, but it’s farther away. We’ve been driving for an hour now, and we still aren’t there—”

  “Yes, we are,” Lisa announced as she turned onto a dirt road. A wooden log arch rose above the road, carved letters proclaiming the LAZY C RANCH.

  “Well, finally,” Kelly said as they bumped along the road. She glanced to the backseat. “Wow, that blanket is nearly finished. I don’t see how you can knit in a car on a bumpy road. How do you do that?”

  Jennifer shoved the afghan into her bag. “Actually, you just have to relax into the car’s rhythm. But right now I’d better stop or the needle will wind up my nose.”

  “Hey, we’re coming to a clearing. There’s the ranch house,” Lisa said. “Look, people are already unloading cars.”

  Kelly saw several cars parked in the clearing ahead. A log beam ranch house was to the right of the driveway and set back. The stable, barn, and corral were to the left bordering the driveway, and a long rectangular log building was set in the middle. Kelly noticed trees running along the back of the property, and the land appeared to slope downward almost as if there was a stream or a creek bed running behind those trees.

  “Looks like you can pull in over there.” Kelly pointed to a space remaining beside a midnight blue minivan.

  A woman carrying a duffel bag and another one holding a knapsack walked through the barnyard. They both were dressed in jeans and sweatshirts and appeared to be in their thirties or forties. Lisa pulled her car into the space as a younger woman in tee shirt and shorts walked past, backpack over her shoulder. Like the others, she was headed toward a tall, slender, gray-haired woman standing at the other end of the barnyard, holding a clipboard.

  “How many people are signed up for this retreat?” Kelly asked as she opened the car door.

  Lisa grabbed her bag and stepped from the car. “Eight have signed up, but we’ll have to wait and see. Some people get cold feet at the last moment.”

  “I can understand that,” Jennifer said as she exited the car, knitting bag over her shoulder. Looking around, she added, “Well, it certainly is pretty here.”

  Kelly turned in a full circle, surveying the Lazy C Ranch. It wasn’t as pretty as the canyon property she’d fallen in love with over a year ago, but the ranch had its own rugged beauty. Kelly couldn’t wait to start exploring.

  “I see some paths winding toward the trees,” she said as she grabbed her backpack and knitting bag from Lisa’s trunk. “What’s the drill? Will we be able to hike? I’d love to take a look around.”

  “We have to check in with Dr. Norcross first.” Lisa started across the barnyard, Kelly and Jennifer following.
“She’ll tell us which cabins are available, and we’ll get the class schedule. I think Dr. Norcross plans her first session right around one o’clock. We ought to be able to take a short hike before that. Then we’ll be doing a fiber class after the session.”

  Another woman crossed the barnyard ahead of them, also heading for the group gathered farther ahead. “I’m glad I’ll get the chance to meet Dr. Norcross. I’ve heard so much about her.” Kelly glanced toward the retreat leader, noticing that Dr. Norcross was attired in jeans and a denim shirt exactly like hers. “I do admire her taste in clothes,” she added with a smile.

  “You’ll really like her, Kelly. She’s the most gifted and insightful psychologist I’ve ever met,” Lisa said as they walked.

  “Wow, that’s high praise coming from you, Lisa,” Kelly said, noticing a tall, rangy man stride from the stables toward the group of women at the edge of the barnyard. “What do you say, Jen? Is that a fair description?” Kelly turned back for Jennifer’s reaction.

  Jennifer didn’t respond. She’d stopped walking and stood staring wide-eyed, straight ahead, her face ashen.

  Kelly quickly went to her friend’s side. “Jen? What’s the matter?”

  Lisa turned around and hastened over. “Jen, are you okay?”

  “Oh, my God . . . it’s him . . .” she gasped.

  Lisa looked over her shoulder. “Do you know that guy?” She jerked her thumb toward the man standing with the group of women. “Who is he?”

  Kelly knew immediately who the guy was. She could tell from her friend’s reaction. “That’s the guy who assaulted you, isn’t it, Jennifer?”

  “What!” Lisa rasped, dropping her voice as another woman sped past them through the barnyard, heading toward the group.

  Jennifer didn’t answer. She simply stared ahead, then she nodded slowly.

  “Bastard!” Kelly hissed as she glared at the man, all decked out in cowboy garb—boots and jeans, Stetson dipped over his eyes. He stood, smiling a smirking smile, talking with Dr. Norcross and the women. Kelly felt her blood start to heat up as anger raced through her. She wanted to walk up to the man and wipe that smirk off his face. But lacking Steve’s knockout punch, Kelly held herself back and seethed within instead.