by Susan Page Davis, Darlene Franklin, Janelle Mowery, Lynette Sowell
“Then there’s the small town factor,” Luke said pensively. “Can you be happy living out here after the social whirl of Boston?”
“I did wonder about that, but in the last few days, I’ve felt so peaceful. Other than having this question hanging over me of course.”
Luke nodded. “I had to make a choice like that a couple of years ago.”
Jayne waited, her heart aching from his wistful tone.
After a moment, he said softly, “My wife died.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. Andy took it hard. We all did, but he—Well, the question was whether to stay at my well-paying job in Hartford, where I had friends and connections, or move to rural Vermont, where I felt Andy would be more comfortable.”
“And you chose Vermont?”
“Yes, and no regrets. It’s so much quieter, and Andy can progress at his own pace. He’s doing better every day.”
Better than what? Jayne wondered, but she didn’t ask. Whatever troubles Andy had come through, his father was committed to doing what was best for the little boy.
Chapter 4
Luke covered Andy with the quilt and tiptoed out of the Squire’s Room and down the stairs. He glanced into the empty parlor, then walked back toward the kitchen.
When he pushed the door open, Diane looked up from rolling out pastry on her work island. “Well hi, Luke. I hear Andy conked out on you.”
Luke smiled. “Yeah, I thought I’d let him sleep for an hour or so.”
Jayne sat at a small round table peeling apples, but she stood and laid down her knife. “How about some coffee? We’ve got a fresh pot.”
“I’d love some. And if you’ve got another knife, I could help you with that.”
“Seems like a fair trade to me.” Jayne brought him his mug of steaming coffee then went to a drawer for a paring knife.
Diane laid a layer of pastry in a pie plate and trimmed it. “We’re having a simple meal tonight, Luke—soup and salad, followed by apple pie, thanks to you.”
“Andy was excited when Jayne told us you’d turn our apples into pie. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No trouble.” Diane wiped her hands on her apron. “I won’t need all of those apples, though. You’ll still have a bag to take home.”
Jayne brought him the extra knife, and Luke reached for an apple. The afternoon sun pouring through the west windows shimmered on her caramel-colored hair. In her pink-plaid flannel shirt and jeans, Jayne gave an impression of wholesome friendliness. She attracted him more than any of the women he’d worked with in Hartford. He reminded himself that she would soon be one of those corporate women—no doubt wearing an expensive skirt suit and carrying a briefcase to her Boston office.
“I’m glad Andy had a good time today,” Diane said.
“He loved it. Jayne found the perfect activities for us.”
Jayne’s lips quirked. “I don’t think he was sure about touching the ferret, but once we got out to the sheep pen, he was all gung ho.”
“He would have stayed at the farm all day, if we’d let him,” Luke said.
They soon finished cutting the apples, and Diane stirred them up in a pottery bowl with sugar, flour, and cinnamon. Luke relaxed and sipped his cooling coffee.
“Say, Jaynie,” her mother said, “could you put these in the oven? I need to run to the store for some fresh fruit and milk for breakfast. They’ll take forty minutes.”
“Sure. Go ahead.” Jayne rose and walked to the work island.
“All right. You need to wrap the edges of the crusts with foil first.”
Diane washed her hands and scooted out the back door. Luke got up and helped himself to another cup of coffee.
“The whole family’s going to like this place,” he said.
Jayne’s eyebrows arched. “Do you think Mrs. Dillard will book it for Christmas?”
“If Andy and I have anything to say about it, she will.” He couldn’t help frowning as he thought of the peaceful inn full of Dillards, though. “Some of the family can be a little … shall we say ‘difficult’? But I think everyone will enjoy the Barncastle experience.”
Jayne slid the two pies into the oven and straightened. “How do you mean, ‘difficult’?”
“Well, you have to understand—I love my mother-in-law, but some might say she’s … high maintenance.” “Ah.”
He took another sip. “This is very good coffee.”
“Thanks.” She picked up her own cup, refilled it, and slid into her chair across from him. “I was surprised when you and Andy walked in. We had planned a romantic dinner for two.”
Luke chuckled. “Sorry. Rosalyn said she’d take care of the booking, and I assumed she’d told you more. She asked me to come because she knew that the whole Christmas reunion depends on Andy and me.” “Oh?”
Luke hesitated only a moment. He wanted Jayne to know his situation, but didn’t want to burden her. “I’m not sure it’s fair to dump our family politics on you, but I have a feeling you’d be impartial enough to see things clearly.”
“I’d certainly try,” Jayne said, holding his gaze. “Don’t tell me anything you don’t want to.”
He knew she would keep his confidence, and that felt good. It had been a long time since he’d had a friendhe could talk over the really important things with. “I’ve distanced myself from the family since Edie died. Andy’s mother, that is.”
Jayne let out a soft sigh, as though she’d been waiting to hear that. “I’m sorry. You and Andy have been through a tough time.”
“Yeah, we have.” He lifted his coffee cup, thinking about it.
“How long has it been?” she asked.
“More than two years. I used to work for her father, Austin Dillard. He owns an architectural firm in the city—a good one.”
“You’re an architect?”
Luke nodded. “After the accident, I decided it would be better for Andy if I took a less stressful job. I never liked the rat race in the city, anyway—or only seeing Andy for a couple of hours in the evening.”
“I can understand that. I like some things about the city, but it’s wearing.”
“Yeah, it is. And after Edie died, I had to have a babysitter all the time for Andy, and that didn’t work out very well.”
“I’m sorry.”
Luke looked into the dark liquid in his mug. He could talk about Edie now without his voice catching, but his chest still tightened when he mentioned her death. And he hadn’t talked to anyone in detail about Andy’s trouble except his pastor and the counselor he’d found for Andy. He looked up. Jayne’s gaze held sympathy, but something else.
“How are things now that you’ve moved to Vermont?” she asked.
“Better. See, Andy was in the car with Edie when she had her accident.”
Jayne closed her eyes for a moment, her lashes casting shadows on her creamy cheeks. “That explains a lot.”
“Yes. Though I don’t want to use it as an excuse to coddle him. Andy wasn’t seriously injured, but he was traumatized. He had nightmares afterward, and he seemed to withdraw from reality. It was a bad time for both of us.”
Unshed tears shone in Jayne’s eyes. He took another sip of coffee and cleared his throat.
“Since we moved up here, I’ve earned less, but the cost of living is lower.”
“Tell me about it. My friend called me yesterday about apartment prices in Boston. Unbelievable.”
“I’ll bet. I’ve discovered that Andy and I can get by very simply in the country. I work at home now, and we have a lot more time together. I see progress every day. Andy’s conquering his fears.”
“His memories may be less intense now,” she said.
Luke nodded. “His nightmares have gotten less frequent this summer. I really think he’s going to be okay. But he needs a slow-paced, low-pressure environment.”
“I think it’s wonderful that you were willing to change your lifestyle for him,” Jayne said.
�
�Thanks. I couldn’t do anything else. And it seems to have paid off.” He drained his mug.
“So, how often does Andy see his grandparents?” Jayne asked.
“My folks live in Florida, and they come up in the summer. I take Andy down for a couple of weeks in January.
I wish they lived closer. Austin and Rosalyn are a different story. They’re a little upset with me because they don’t think they see Andy often enough.” He shrugged. “Andy finds their house stressful, and Rosalyn prods him to talk and do things he’s not comfortable with. I don’t like to put him through that too often.”
Jayne’s mouth squeezed into a sympathetic line. “When she called, she seemed eager to set up a Christmas experience Andy would enjoy. I think she chose the medieval theme for him.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Jayne swallowed hard and met his gaze. “I may as well tell you, this is a new venture for the inn. You didn’t see the ad?”
Luke shook his head.
“We’re offering a week of Christmas in any time period the guests want—or any theme. Colonial, Civil War, superheroes, cowboys. You name it, we’ll set it up.”
“That’s so innovative.”
“Well, thank you.” She smiled, and her cheeks went pink.
“Your idea?”
“Yes.”
“I think it’s terrific.”
“Well I’m glad your mother-in-law thought so.”
He looked into her eyes, and it hit him that if Rosalyn hadn’t been taken with the concept, he and Andy wouldn’t have met Jayne. He was starting to realize how much they would have missed.
“I’m glad, too. Rosalyn posed it as a favor to her—bring Andy here for the weekend at her expense to check out thefacility, and so Andy could get used to the place. She figured if we had a good time, Andy would look forward to coming here again. She’s a smart lady.”
“Yes,” Jayne mused. “We’re delighted, and we hope we have the chance to meet the rest of your family. I’ve been making notes for medieval decorations and entertainment. Mom is going wild over ancient recipes, and Dad’s planning some projects that will make the place seem more like a castle, inside and out.”
“I hope he doesn’t make too many changes. It’s perfect as it is.” They smiled at one another, in complete agreement.
Jayne snapped her fingers. “That reminds me. I have a couple of old friends who live about ten miles away. They belong to the Society for Creative Anachronism. Ever hear of it?”
A long-buried memory surfaced, of Luke’s parents taking him and his brother to a Renaissance fair. “Aren’t they the people who put on the jousts and things?”
“That’s right. And they’re very interested in authenticity and in educating the public about the Middle Ages. My friend Dori is a wonderful seamstress. She makes their costumes. Her husband, Bill, is more into the hardware. He makes his own armor and swords—all that sort of thing. Do you think Andy would like to visit them? Or would that be too much?”
“I don’t know. Can we see if he wakes up ready for more adventure?”
“Sure,” Jayne said.
“And speaking of the sleeping prince, I’d better go check on him.” Luke reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “Thanks, Jayne. I’m glad we had this time to talk.”
“This is how I’ll shape the hilt.”
Bill drew his tongs from the old forge where he’d heated the piece of steel in the coals of a charcoal fire. The round forge reminded Jayne of an old barbecue, but it had a handle on one side that allowed Bill to pump a bellows and blow air on his fire.
He took the steel quickly to his anvil and began hammering it around the horn, into a curved shape. Andy and Luke watched, fascinated, through the safety goggles Bill had loaned them. Jayne stood a couple of yards away with Dori. Bill had run out of goggles, and she’d insisted Luke and his son take them. She’d watched Bill play blacksmith before.
“How many costumes do you think you’ll need?” Dori asked.
Jayne tore her gaze away from Andy’s enraptured face and smiled at her friend. “Oh, half a dozen anyway. We’ll have a full house for a week and we’re serving all the meals, so we’ll need to hire people to help cook and serve, as well as a chambermaid. Dad thinks he can handle the heavy work, but I don’t know—we’ll be hauling a lot of wood up from the cellar that week for the fireplaces, and there’ll be lots of luggage and probably snow to shovel. I might hire a high school boy or two.”
“And you want all your staff to dress in fourteenth-century clothing.” Dori gave a dreamy smile. “I’ll pull some drawings off the Internet from places that sell patterns and e-mail them to you with estimates of price for different fabrics.”
“Sounds good. And as soon as the booking is definite, I’ll let you know.” While she spoke, Jayne continued to watch Luke and Andy’s interplay with Bill. Luke encouraged Andy to speak to his new friend, and after just a few minutes of ducking his head and shrinking against his father’s leg, Andy had overcome his timidity. He hung on every word Bill spoke as he formed the new sword hilt. When the steel had the shape he wanted, he dunked it in a bucket of water. Steam hissed into the air.
“That is so cool, Daddy,” Andy almost shouted.
Next Bill showed him and Luke the shield he’d made for an upcoming tournament. “See this? It’s my crest. I’m Sir Pantheon when I’m in tournaments, and the silver panther on a black background is my crest.”
Dori arched her eyebrows and smiled at Jayne. “If all your guests are as enthusiastic as these two, you might make a regular thing of medieval-themed vacations.”
“You never know. Do you think Bill would be interested in organizing some demonstrations—maybe a little fencing? We’ll need minstrels and jugglers, too. Maybe some mummers.”
“We know people who do all of those things, and they’ll work hard to put on a good show for you. Of course, it’s at Christmas …”
“Yes. I’ll talk to you again as soon as I know for sure, so we can start scheduling.”
Jayne and Dori walked closer to where Bill was helping Andy heft his leather-covered shield.
“It’s heavy,” Andy said.
“Yes, it’s too big for a warrior your size.” Bill straightenedand nodded toward the far wall of his workshop. “Maybe your dad can get that smaller one down for you to try.” He looked at Luke. “The one with the tree and the lightning bolt.”
Luke walked to the wall where several shields hung amid tools and replicas of ancient weapons. He brought the small, round shield back and handed it to Bill.
“Here you go, Andy,” Bill said. “Try this. It’s the one our nephew uses when he comes to visit.”
Andy grasped the handle on the back of the shield and held it up, completely hiding his face.
“Oops, a little lower, buddy,” Luke said.
Bill chuckled. “Right—you’ve got to be able to see where you’re going, Sir Andrew.”
Andy’s eyes glowed as he pretended to fend off blows with the shield.
Bill lowered his voice. “You know, Luke, you can get foam swords. Kids love ‘em, and they can practice without hurting each other.”
“I might look into it,” Luke said. “Andy sure loves this.”
After they enjoyed hot chocolate and cookies with Dori and Bill, Luke drove back to the inn.
“Are you awake?” he asked Andy as he unbuckled the boy’s safety harness.
“Um-hmm.” Andy stifled a yawn.
“Well then, I guess you can walk up to our room, Sir Andrew.” Luke lifted him down and smiled over at Jayne. “I was afraid I’d have to lug him in again.”
“It’s been a full day.” She walked beside them up the steps.
“Yes, and a good one. A day to remember.” Luke held her gaze for a long moment as Jayne fumbled with the door handle.
“Do we have to go home tomorrow, Daddy?” Andy murmured.
Luke ruffled his hair. “Afraid so. But we can go to church here with the Barn
castles, instead of going home early.”
“Good.”
Jayne swung the door open, and Andy marched inside, yawning.
“Thanks for everything, Jayne,” Luke said.
“It was a fantastic day.” These two had stolen her heart. Jayne knew she’d never forget Luke’s sad eyes or the wistful gaze that lingered on her before he followed his son up the staircase.
Luke carried the luggage down Sunday afternoon and stowed it in the SUV. He would miss this place, and not only for the excellent food and the cozy surroundings rich in heritage and history.
It was Jayne. He didn’t want to drive away from her. He could tell she liked him, and unless he was mistaken, she adored his son. Would she think of them as often as he’d think of her? They hadn’t even left yet, and he was trying to recall the exact sweep of her lush caramel-toned hair when she turned her head.
He went back inside. Jayne was helping Andy button his jacket. She straightened and threw him an enigmatic glance, then reached for something on the hall table behind her.
“Andy, I’ve had this for a long time. I got it when I wasabout your age. I’m going to be really busy for the next couple of months, and I wondered if you’d want to keep him for me until the next time we meet.” She held out a slightly bedraggled stuffed dragon about ten inches long.
Andy reached out and took the blue-and-purple dragon and pulled it in close to his stomach. “I’ll take good care of him.”
Jayne looked at Luke. “If you don’t mind …”
“I don’t mind.” Luke’s throat was tight, and he cleared it. “That looks like the kind of dragon that doesn’t eat much.”
Andy smiled. He’d smiled and laughed more this weekend than he had in a long time—since his mother died. Jayne’s thoughtfulness had a lot to do with that.
“Miss Jayne?” Andy looked up at her with big, trusting eyes. “What’s his name?”
Jayne’s somber expression morphed into a broad smile. “Hendrick. He told me his papa was German.”
“Hendrick.” Andy snuggled the dragon up against his chin. “I like soft dragons.”