by Unknown
Brenda Huber
threadbare Atlanta Braves T-shirt she’d dragged on earlier this morning. Bending, she retrieved the small gardening tools. She dug her knuckles against the kink in the base of her spine as she straightened.
Ginny disappeared from view for a moment as she leaned across the seat. The passenger door swung open with a loud, creaking protest, and Ginny’s smiling, gamine face popped back into the window. “I know it’s hardly worth the ride, but you better hop in. You look like you’re ‘bout ready to drop where you’re standin’.”
It wasn’t that far to the house, but JJ rounded the hood and hoisted herself up inside the cab nonetheless, hauling the creaking door closed behind her with a grateful grin.
“When I bought this place, I’d decided to do as much of the repairs as I could by myself, but I’m about to yield on this yard. There’s a lawnmower in the shed out back, but I think it’s older than I am. I couldn’t even get it to cough. Somebody should have taken it out and given it a decent burial long ago.” Ginny chuckled, and the engine roared to life once more. The truck didn’t sound much better than the lawnmower probably would have if it had started. JJ didn’t try to make conversation over the grumble of the motor, and her driver seemed content to navigate the short length of the lane in companionable silence. By mutual consent, the two opted for tea first, leaving the supplies for later.
Once inside the house, Ginny glanced around the kitchen as JJ stretched for a shelf inside a tall cupboard. Accepting a slim, bottle green glass, Ginny poured the dark, iced liquid from the jug, commenting with a nod toward the general vicinity of the rest of the house, “You’ve been busy.”
“Mmm,” JJ sighed as she accepted the offering, taking a long draw of sweet, iced bliss as she sank onto a chair at the table. Her eyes nearly rolled back 84
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in her head with ecstasy. When she could find her voice again, she remarked, “There’s still a lot to do, but it’s getting there.”
JJ glanced around her, smiling with pride. Her kitchen gleamed now, spit-shined and lemon-scented. The rest of the downstairs wasn’t looking half-bad either. Oh, there was a list of repairs a mile long, but she’d chased the coat of dust and grime away to her satisfaction, and some of the smaller repairs were behind her. The grounds… Well, they were another story altogether. Later this afternoon she’d give that boy, Mike, down at the grocery store a call. Then she’d be free to tackle the attic. She almost rubbed her hands together in anticipation.
“I’m sorry,” she added as an afterthought. “I don’t have much aside from some packaged cookies to go with the tea. I’ve been so focused on cleaning I haven’t bothered much in the way of cooking yet.”
“No problem,” Ginny assured her, hefting her glass. “This is all I need.”
Before long, they fell into the easy companionship of long-lost friends newly found. It was a peculiar sensation for JJ, this experience of female bonding. She hadn’t allowed anyone close since Sarah, finding comfort only in her work. Even before that, she’d never been much for collecting friends as some were wont to do. A loner by nature, she’d always preferred to isolate herself with her paints and her brushes, living vicariously through the colors that poured out onto her canvases.
The initial stages of awkwardness gave way in the face of Ginny’s warmth and vitality, and JJ
couldn’t help but welcome the familiarity. Ginny brought her up to speed on the nuances of small-town gossip, and, inevitably, the talk shifted to the victim discovered in the woods behind JJ’s house her first night in town. Until now, she’d been able to push the matter from her mind, at least until the 85
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dark of night pushed back. She’d avoided going into the stores, thereby avoiding the inevitable question, and placed her orders by phone instead. All good things must come to an end though…as had her reprieve of blissful ignorance.
“Her name was Lori Watson,” Ginny filled her in. “She was the night waitress down at Maggie’s...good one, too. She’d have your plate on the table waitin’ for you before your ass hit the seat.” Ginny set her glass down with a baleful thump. She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
“Pitiful, though, the way they found her. Stripped naked and laying on a pile of porn. She had pantyhose wrapped around her throat, I heard. Poor woman. No one deserves that, no matter what kind of life you’ve led.”
Glancing up, JJ set her glass down and met Ginny’s eyes, waiting with bated breath, like a bystander at a horrific crash site, unable to help, unable to look away. Her companion leaned an elbow on the table, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Between you and me, after her and Steve split last spring, that woman saw more action than the Bowl-a-Rama on league night. ‘Course, if you believe the rumors around town, she was playin’ fast and loose long before then. Shameful...” Ginny tsked, shaking her head, and took another long draw of tea.
JJ remained silent, toying with the slim gold watch on her wrist. Pondering that last bit of information, she lifted the cool glass to her lips once more, savoring the clean bite of the tea. From there, the conversation drifted to more mundane topics.
Although JJ didn’t offer much more than the fact she was from Minnesota, Ginny didn’t seem inclined to pry. Instead, she offered her own history.
“I originally came up from Bridgewater—a hole-in-the-wall Podunk town that makes Sutter Hollow 86
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look like Nashville.” Ginny let out a hoarse chuckle and took another draw off her tea. Her eyes took on a reminiscent twinkle. “I met Todd my first year at college. He was a senior, and so damned handsome you’d swear he just stepped down off some fashion billboard for designer underwear. I was a goner the first time I laid eyes on that man.” She rolled lively brown eyes, but her face softened with fond memories. “My grandmother’d passed on the year before...both my parents died when I was a youngster...and I didn’t have anything to pull me back to Tennessee, so I followed Todd up here like a stray puppy.”
JJ leaned forward in her seat with an interested murmur of encouragement, charmed.
“With a mind like his—to say nothing of the body—I could never figure what drew him back here...or what attracted him to the likes of me.” Ginny shook her head, leaning back in her seat, her eyes a million memories away. She shook her head again, as if trying to shake a baffling question she’d asked herself a thousand times and never been able to answer. “Anyway...here we were. After an abbreviated engagement, we bought the hardware store and settled in. Life was good...better’n I’d ever hoped for.”
Ginny held a finger up as she dug in her pocket.
Dropping a battered keychain onto the table between them, she flipped over a small locket and held the tiny pictures up for JJ’s perusal. On one side of the locket, a man’s handsome visage grinned at her with wicked charm. He was, indeed, every bit as attractive as Ginny had claimed. On the opposite side of the locket, a small boy peered back at her. He was adorable, with hints of the woman sitting across the table from JJ around his eyes. The rest of him was all Todd. There was no doubt about it...he’d be a real heartbreaker when he grew into all that 87
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potential.
“That’s my Todd...he’s been gone going on two years next month. Big lug went and got himself shot in a hunting accident up north.” Her sorrowful eyes glittered bright then, gleaming with pride, as she went on, “And that’s our Tanner. He’ll be seven come July.”
“He’s a beautiful boy.” JJ handed the locket back, tilting her head as she considered Ginny in a new light. “I’m sorry about your husband.” Ginny gave a small, uncomfortable shrug.
“And you kept the hardware store going?”
“I couldn’t close up shop. That store meant so much to Todd, and the town needs it. You close up one shop in a town this size, pretty soon they all start to topple.” Ginny cleared her throat, offering JJ
a warm smile. Her eyes held not an ounce of self-pity
or regret in their clear depths. No, they were too full of pride in her son and confidence in her store. She looked entirely too young to shoulder the burdens she carried, but shoulder them she did, with a style and grace that left JJ in awe. “Besides, I have a son to support, and at twenty-nine I’m a long way from retirement...and a hell of a lot farther from having one foot in the grave. A girl’s gotta have something to do.”
By now, JJ was certain, she would have packed it up and crawled back to Gloria’s doorstep, tail tucked firmly between her legs. Even her aloof mother’s holier-than-thou attitude would seem warm and welcoming compared to facing the responsibilities Ginny did, day in and day out.
Alone.
After a while, Ginny flicked a glance to the masculine watch strapped on her wrist by a wide leather band, and she pushed to her feet with a resigned groan. “I guess I best be headin’ back soon.
Tanner will be home from school soon, and I’ve still 88
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got end-of-the-month bookwork to tackle.” Helping JJ clear the table, she waved the tea jar away. “You keep that.”
“Oh, but—”
“Just make sure it’s full the next time I come for a visit, and we’ll call it even,” Ginny suggested.
Then, pausing in the doorway, she shot another warm smile over her shoulder. “It’s nice to sneak in a little girl time once in a while. I’ll give you a call the next time we all get together. You’ll fit right in.”
“You all?” With a curious smile, she followed Ginny from the house to the back of the truck where her supplies awaited unloading.
“A few of us get together every Tuesday night.
We do something different most every week, just to break up the monotony.” Ginny leaped up onto the truck bed with the grace of a ballerina. She toed a smaller box toward the tailgate and JJ’s waiting arms, and then, with a slight grunt, she bent to pick up a larger box with the Paper Cutouts logo stamped in bold black lettering on the side.
“Lord A’mighty,” she grunted as she set the box down and leaped to the ground, where she hefted the box once more. “I never imagined paints and such could weigh so much.”
Grinning, JJ stretched over the rust-pocked truck bed and locked her fingers around the folded legs of a wooden easel. “You’d be surprised.”
“Where do you want this stuff?” Chewing on her lower lip, JJ frowned. The supplies had come in much sooner than she’d anticipated, and the attic wasn’t yet ready. “My supplies can go in the den for now, I suppose.” Her gaze fell to the antique bench and coat rack she’d bought from the furniture store for the front entry. “I think we’ll have to put those in the shed around back, though. I don’t want to ding them by accident while I’m working on something else.” 89
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The bench was heavy, and by the time they’d wrestled it around to the shed, both women were winded and laughing. JJ’s merriment died on her lips, however, as soon as she reached for the lock on the shed door...or, rather the place where the lock should have been. The errant lock now rested on the ground a few feet away, the wood around the bent latch scratched and gouged.
Stepping closer to the door, JJ squinted at the damage, planting bemused fists on her hips. “I was out here last night. I put some of the old end tables and lamps in here,” she murmured, more to herself than to Ginny, while her companion moved closer, a concerned frown marring her smooth brow. “The lock was fine then,” JJ went on, “And no one else has been here today. I would have noticed. I was outside all day.”
“Austin mentioned there’s been some trouble with vandalism the last few weeks.” When JJ
reached for the lock, Ginny put her hand on JJ’s forearm and cautioned, “You better call this in.
Might not want to touch anything in the meantime.” JJ grimaced but dropped her hand to her side.
The last thing she wanted to do was deal with that overbearing, obnoxious jerk that passed for a sheriff in these parts. She could already see the disapproving scowl on his gorgeous face...and the accusing questions in his brilliant, jewel-like eyes.
She wouldn’t put it past him to blame her for breaking into her own shed. No. She’d rather just add the shed to her list of repairs and go on with her day. It wasn’t like there was anything of value out here anyway.
As if sensing her reluctance, Ginny drew a slim cell phone from her hip pocket and began punching numbers before JJ could object. “Ill just call Emma and have her send a deputy over to take a look around.”
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JJ relaxed a little. The soothing, silver-streaked deputy who’d responded to her 911 call last night came to mind. He wouldn’t be so bad. Even that young red-haired deputy would be a better bet...a safer bet...than the sheriff. Besides, whoever broke into her shed could easily break into someone else’s property, take something valuable from someone else. No, she couldn’t object to having a deputy come over. She was just being ridiculous. She listened with half an ear to Ginny’s side of the conversation as she wandered around the shed, looking for any other signs of disturbance.
“Someone will be over soon,” Ginny informed her as she crammed the phone back into her right hip pocket. “Emma said we better not mess with the shed for now. Is there anywhere else we can store this bench and the rest of the stuff in the truck?” JJ jerked the elastic band from her loose ponytail and scooped the wild tresses back into some semblance of order, rewinding the band. “I guess we could shove it all into a corner in the den.” The two of them wrestled the bench back across the yard and up onto the front porch. By the time they gained the top step, a huge, fresh-off-the-lot new Dodge Ram had already charged down her lane, easing alongside Ginny’s decrepit truck. The Dodge’s spotless, gunmetal-gray paint job and sparkling chrome put the rusted-out old Chevy at a distinct disadvantage. The light bar over the cab, the extra gear across the grill, and the large decal on the door announced her latest visitor was from the Fulwick County Sheriff’s Department. The two women set the bench down on the porch and straightened.
Ginny smiled affable recognition as JJ lifted a hand to shield her eyes against the glare from the front windshield.
The bottom of her stomach dropped away when the very man she’d been hoping to avoid stepped 91
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down from the cab. He shot Ginny an easy smile steeped in sin and ambled toward the house like a self-absorbed, over-confident Greek god come down from Mount Olympus with the express purpose of reducing any and every female he crossed paths with into weak-kneed puddles of greedy hormones. JJ
shot a sidelong glance at her new friend. Ginny didn’t appear to have any problem with malfunctioning salivary glands and gawking eyes.
Perhaps JJ was the only one he’d deigned to torture.
Her traitorous gaze wandered back to the demigod. He utterly radiated the promise of sexual gratification. Once again clad in snug jeans and a fitted T-shirt, he was delicious enough to nibble from head to toe...nibble or gulp down in large, greedy mouthfuls, leaving the guilty calorie—or in this particular case, sin—counting for later. Lord help her. With any luck, he’d be like the flu, or some other common ailment...with repeated exposure maybe she’d build up immunity. Her heart flip-flopped inside her ribcage when his cool eyes flicked over her. Damn it. She’d settle for semi-tolerance at this point.
A much-welcomed breeze stirred the treetops, rustled through the overgrown yard, ruffling his honeyed locks. Gilded sunlight kissed his carved-granite features. Her lingering resentment over his high-handed treatment of her on her first night in town was the only thing to keep the drool locked firmly behind tightly compressed lips.
“Hey there, Ginny,” Sheriff Walker crooned with effortless familiarity, adding another layer of resentment to JJ’s defensive walls. His eyes chilled again, just the tiniest bit, as he swiveled her way.
He dipped his chin in a miniscule nod of professional acknowledgement. “Miss Frost.” 92
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>
“Sheriff,” she responded tonelessly. “Hey, yourself,” Ginny greeted the lawman. Her palm rested sassily on a cocked hip as she tilted her head.
“I thought you had the day off, handsome.”
“That was the general idea,” he drawled as he ascended the steps. JJ would have preferred he’d stayed down on the bottom step, or, better still, in his truck as he headed back down the lane. Up here on the porch, he towered over her, crowding her with undeniable masculine appeal. “We’ve been a little busier than usual. Austin and Judy are already out on calls, and Red worked last night. Had a couple B
and E’s. The shop room down at the school was vandalized, and somebody got inside the movie theater, left a hell of a mess there.” He tipped his head toward the bench. “You takin’ this in or out?”
“In,” Ginny supplied helpfully.
Without warning, he stepped around JJ and tipped the bench on its end. Taking a firm grip in the middle of the seat, he lifted it with astonishing ease. The whipcord strength of his lean frame stunned her. Though the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunched and flexed, not an ounce of strain flickered over his smooth features. JJ swallowed, blinked, and sucked in a deep breath. That bench was heavy. Really heavy. It had taken an enormous amount of energy for her and Ginny to lug it across the yard again and up the steps, yet he’d just hefted it like a flimsy piece of dollhouse furniture.
Whaa…
Suck the drool up, JJ, before it runs down your chin. Not bothering to stifle her appreciative smile, Ginny stepped to the door and braced it open. Cam stood still, though, and lifted a patient eyebrow at JJ. His muscles flexed and rippled, but his arrogant grin was completely relaxed. Stirring herself, she shot forward, leading the way into the den.
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“You can…” JJ cleared her throat after that embarrassing croak. “You can put it down over there in the corner.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, Miss Frost,” he commented, striding confidently—effortlessly—into the room, “this doesn’t seem like it belongs here.”