Josh was ensconced in the enormous office with his computers and various printers, all connected to the latest satellite service. He surprised Jenny by turning a large room across from his office into a studio for her. With Mila available to watch the children for several hours a day, Jenny was already in the preliminary design stages of several large pieces for the walls in the main house.
He surprised her again one day when he set up easels on the enclosed back porch of their little guesthouse. As far as she knew, he had not painted in years, now he had already begun work on a painting of their incredible view. Jenny herself had not touched a brush to canvas for years, but watching Josh's painting come to life made her buried desire to create rise. It was true she was busy, but now she had help with Emmie and Adam. The help was not only from Mila but also from a new psychologist in Durango. Dr. Sommers was working with both Emmie and them. Their daughter's speech was returning albeit in one-word increments.
Jenny smiled as she watched Josh. They had stepped back into a simpler life. They did not have the high-powered jobs they thought they needed and had desired for so many years. They also did not have bosses and the stress associated with such jobs. She no longer had the constant negativity from her mother. Perhaps Josh felt some stress from his mysterious boss, but the man kept a low profile. If there was any negative feedback, she had not heard about it.
They were living now, not just existing, or surviving. Living, not arguing, and enjoying their lives and their children, and each other. Some people would say they had dropped out or given up. If so, they were not missing their old lives.
"You have the misty-eyed look of a woman in love," Mila said startling Jenny out of her reflections.
Jenny smiled. "I was thinking how right this move has been for us, for all of us. Josh is happier than he has been since he took his first job in Manhattan."
Mila nodded. "I didn't know him well then, I was a kid and the two of you weren't around much. I always liked him though. He is a down-to-earth kind of guy. I like living here, too. I think after the baby comes, I might look for something in this area for myself."
"There is no hurry," Jenny exclaimed.
"Good, because I am not in a hurry," Mila admitted. "I want to relax and stay healthy for this baby. I'm not planning on looking for a job for at least six months after it comes. I have John's life insurance and our savings to keep us. I don't make impulsive decisions."
"Josh says this renovation will take the better part of a year, maybe more. I hope so, I love it here."
Mila nodded and rubbed her growing bump. "I know you do, but you are not living in the granny house. I asked Josh if I could start working in my place. I have to get rid of the old bric-a-brac, it's driving me crazy."
"What did he say?"
"He must have called his boss. He told me a little while ago, and I quote, 'Have at it. Box it for donations or toss it in the dumpster'. I can buy my own furniture or clear it through him to be paid for as part of the renovations."
"Let's get boxes from the garage and start packing," Jenny exclaimed. "Most of the stuff in your place can go straight to the landfill.
"Josh and I are going into town this evening to drop off the stuffed animal heads from the main house. They give me the heebie-jeebies. Josh called the Moose Lodge in town, the man who runs the place jumped at the chance to get them. Come with us tonight. Apparently, they have a restaurant where we were offered dinner in exchange for the heads."
"It sounds good," Mila agreed and she hugged her sister. "I'll spring for ice cream on the way home."
* * *
"This place reminds me of a lot of bars I have been in around the country," Mila said. She was looking around, taking in the dark wood-paneled room with its wooden tables and chairs, and the wagon-wheel light fixtures hanging over their heads.
"It looks as if nothing has been changed since the 1960s. I hope the food is better than the décor," Jenny agreed.
"There are families eating here, so it can't be too bad," Josh said, looking around. "I was told the food was 'hearty,' whatever that means."
"It means that it runs to beef, elk, and venison. A lot of steaks, burgers, stews, and mashed potatoes, not to mention a legendary macaroni and cheese," Blake Parker said, stepping over to their table. "If you want lighter fare, you have to go to the College Drive Café. I hear they have vegetarian food. The locals mostly stick with the diners."
Josh stood to shake the man's hand and offered him a chair.
"Have you joined the Moose Club?" Blake asked.
"No, we donated some mounted animal heads and dinner was offered as a payment."
"I wish you had said something to me about wanting to get rid of them."
"Sorry. We wanted them gone quickly. I called the Lodge and the guy on the phone said he would take them."
Blake laughed. "I'll bet. That was probably Pete Dickerson. He has wanted that moose head for years. He was a friend of old Mr. Bentley, although friend might be an exaggeration. I'm not sure the old man had any real friends. I did work for him once in a while, but it was hard to deal with him. Mostly, he let his housekeeper lead him around and tell him what to do. I heard you are doing a lot of work to the house."
"Would you happen to know who built the library and did the iron work?" Josh asked.
"No, I only did a few side jobs in the main house. I was in the housekeeper's house a couple of times. That's it. The old man kept to himself. Rumors floated around for years about him."
"What kind of rumors," Mila asked.
Blake shrugged. "There were stories about him being rich, hiding money, hiding collections of antiques and valuables."
Jenny laughed, "We haven't found anything of value so far. It looks as if it were furnished with castoffs from the Salvation Army or yard sales."
"You ain't horning in on this free meal, Blake," an elderly man said coming to the table. "If you order, you pay. If you folks want drinks, go to the bar and tell Dale what you want. Today's meals are on the board over there. I'll be back in a minute to take your orders."
"Pete," Blake said stopping the old man. "Would you know who built the library and did the iron work in the Bentley house?"
Pete thoughtfully squinted and nodded. "Yeah, man name of Carlo Vitti or Valle, something like that, did the iron work back about twenty years ago when old Nate finally moved here permanent. I think the guy still lives over in Dove Creek, if he ain't dead. I haven't seen him 'round in years. His son still works in the business, Rick Garbin at The Iron Grill carries some of his stuff. He could give you a number." Pete looked at Blake with a scowl and then turned his attention back to Josh. "George Carter did the carpentry work, you won't find much better."
"Thank you," Josh said jotting down the names as the man walked away.
"That would be Nick Vitti for the iron work," Blake said. "He is a gifted tradesman. You should stay away from the Carters, though. George turned the business over to his son who does shoddy work. Well, I will let you folks get on with your dinner, nice to see you, again."
Pete came back, took their orders, and returned fewer than five minutes later to deliver heaping plates.
"Mr. Dickerson, do you know much about the local businesses," Josh asked.
"It's Pete and I know pert near everything about this town. I've lived here nigh onto seventy-two years and there ain't much that gets by me."
"Which company does the best carpentry work?"
"That would be Wood Works. Kevin Carter or one of his crews," Pete replied quickly. "Best there is hereabouts, but sometimes you have to wait on him. He's busy. If you need advice on who does what best in this town, you call me. If I ain't here, call Dory Green over at the Durango Diner. We ain't upstarts like a lot of people in town now. You tell her I said to call, she will send you to the right people."
"Thanks." Josh added Pete's and Dory's names to his growing list.
"Well, we have one vote for the Carter's and one vote against," Jenny said.
"Yeah," Josh said. "I'll need more recommendations before hiring anyone."
Mila tucked a napkin under Emmie's chin. "Josh, did you notice a difference in the way Blake Parker was speaking today?"
Jenny and Josh both turned to her.
"More country," Mila said carefully, "Less confident and, not to sound like a snob, less like an educated man."
Josh looked around at the old-fashioned room and shrugged. "He's a local. He probably fits in with both worlds."
* * *
"Shouldn't we be doing something?" Jenny asked. She sat cross-legged on a blanket as Adam used his newfound toddling ability to wander back and forth and cover her in fall leaves. Since he carefully searched for a single gold leaf at a time to carry to her, it would take him a while. Emmie, on the other hand, built a big pile of multicolored leaves, which she ran through scattering them in the breeze.
"What?" Josh asked as he lay flat on his back with his eyes closed.
"I don't know, something," Jenny teased, dropping leaves on his face.
Josh shook his head and opened his eyes. "We are doing something; we are enjoying the afternoon. How beautiful is this?" He waved in the direction of their mountain view covered in red and yellow fall foliage. "The temperatures are dropping every day, and they predict snow tonight in the mountains. It is warm today so this may be our last chance to enjoy it. Enjoy, woman!"
"Have you received a response to the last sketches we sent Mr. Mitchim for our mystery boss?"
"Not yet," Josh said, glancing quickly at Jenny. Sometimes he felt guilty about his subterfuge, but he still thought it was worth it. Over the last two months, both of them had renewed spirits and creativity. They had reset the clock on their marriage, and apparently on their sexual vitality, too. What was there not to like about their current home and activities? They still had the occasional flare-up between them, but they settled them quickly enough.
"Finger paint, Daddy," Emmie said, dropping a handful of wet leaves on him.
"What the…" Josh brushed the leaves off himself, turned over his daughter's hands, grabbed a handful of napkins and a bottle of water, and washed them quickly. He got to his feet pulling Jenny to hers. "Take the kids inside, now."
"What is it?" Jenny demanded.
"Take the kids to the house," Josh whispered. "Don't let Emmie touch her mouth with her hands until you wash and disinfect them. That wasn't paint, it was blood."
"What? From where," she asked looking around.
"I don't know exactly. The wind is blowing from the direction of the woods so I will check them first."
"No," Jenny protested. "Come to the house with me and call the police."
"For what?" Josh whispered. "It could be something as simple as a dead rabbit."
"If it is, it was killed by a wild animal or someone carrying a gun," Jenny whispered. "I don't want you walking into danger. Come back inside with us and call someone. Call Blake. He carries a gun and knows how to use it."
Josh nodded reluctantly. "Okay, I agree we might need assistance, but it could be nothing. Let's get the kids inside."
* * *
Blake Parker arrived forty minutes later. When Josh started outside to meet him, Jenny grabbed his arm to stop him.
"Let him handle it!"
"Jenny, I am going with him to find out what is going on," Josh said firmly.
"No, stay here and let him handle it. I don't want you to go out there."
"Jen, stay here with the kids or go over to Mila's."
"No, I want you stay in where it is safe! Do not go out there," Jenny ordered.
"Jen! That's enough," Josh snapped, walking out the door.
Josh met Blake outside as Blake pulled a rifle out of the back of his truck. The two men retraced the steps into the clearing where the family had recently picnicked. They walked into the woods and soon found more red-stained leaves.
"This is no rabbit," Blake said, looking around carefully.
Thirty feet further into the woods, they found the source. Someone had killed an elk and removed its head.
Blake pulled out his phone to call the game warden. They walked to the edge of the woods and waited for the officer to arrive. When he saw the County truck, Blake motioned for him to drive across the expanse of yard and meadow to the edge of the woods.
"Trophy poachers," Blake announced as he introduced the two men and they walked back into the woods.
"I thought we cleared out the last of them two years ago," grumbled Game Warden Jim Hodges. "Same as before?" he asked Blake.
"Same as before," Blake agreed. "Someone knows what they are doing. They sliced the head clean through. It took more than one man to carry out a head and rack of that size. It would weigh two hundred pounds or more."
"Are you saying this has happened before?" Josh asked.
"Yeah, a couple of years ago a group of hunters weren't satisfied with only trying their luck legally. They took to poaching out of season without permits. They weren't interested in the meat, only the heads, and racks."
"Why?" Josh asked.
"There is enough money in selling trophy heads to make it worthwhile," Blake explained. "Those heads you gave Pete were worth about ten to twelve thousand dollars each."
Josh shook his head chuckling. "He didn't bother mentioning their worth when I offered them to him."
"He wouldn't. You will play hell getting them back!"
"I wouldn't ask him to return them, but I have learned my lesson," Josh admitted. "I'm primarily concerned about poachers being this close to my home."
"Poaching is a hit-and-run kind of operation. They spot a six- or eight-foot rack and go after it. Sometimes, they run 'em down, wear 'em out before they kill 'em. If you hear four-wheelers or snowmobiles out in the woods, more than likely it's poachers, so call me. Poachers don't usually buy hunting tags. They have to move their kill fast to a taxidermist who does illegal work on the side."
"Basically, you are saying there isn't anything you can do to stop them," Josh asked the warden.
"Oh, we'll catch 'em," Warden Hodges countered. "It might take a while. I have eight Wardens, and they cover a lot of territory. I noticed that have you posted signs, but signs won't stop poachers. Now, don't get all pissed off. Most hunters are legitimate. They know what they are doing and the respect the law. Unfortunately, someone always thinks the law doesn't apply to them. If you see a hunter on your land, call the sheriff or me."
"Are you another transplanted Easterner?" Warden Hodges asked suspiciously.
"Yes, from Connecticut and New York."
"Look, Mr. Grayson, since you are a city man, I'll give you some free advice. Get yourself a gun and learn how to use it," Warden Hodges said bluntly. "This ain't the city. If you got little kids and womenfolk, keep them under wraps until hunting season is over. I don't want to deal with accidents. The fact is, this is big-game hunting country. If you continue to live here… get used to it. Throw lime over the carcass or let the animals do what comes natural."
"Jim Hodges didn't mean anything nasty, Josh," Blake said after the game warden left. "We get a lot of transplanted city slickers here. They come in, buy properties as investments, build fancy places but they only live here part time. This drives the cost of land up, so locals can hardly afford to buy. Then the outsiders start saying our way of life is wrong. Most of us want to tell the city slickers to return to where things are to their liking, rather than trying to change us.
"Most hunters in these parts are in it for the meat. Elk and deer put meat on often-empty tables. The mounted heads give them bragging rights or they are sold to help support families. It is a rare Colorado native who doesn't have one in their home."
"I understand, although I have never hunted," Josh said. "Do you think I should get a rifle for protection?"
"Yeah, I do. However, there is more to it in Colorado than walking in, buying a gun, and learning to shoot. Go to Herman's Guns in town, he'll get you squared away," Blake said. "Are you planning on
sticking around?"
"Yes, I suspect we will be here for quite a while," Josh said truthfully.
When Josh entered the guesthouse, Jenny was still in a snit, banging pans in the kitchen. At first he decided to ignore her, then she said a swear word that made Emmie's eyes widen in surprise.
"Bad," Emmie whispered.
"Yes, it is a bad word," Josh echoed. "Not a word I ever want to hear a good girl like you saying. I do want to hear you say all the other words you know, baby. Will you go get the book I was reading to you last night? Change into your jammies and put your toys away before coming back down." Emmie nodded and skipped off.
Snit or not, he could not ignore Jen's continued bad humor. He should not have even considered ignoring it in the first place. Not facing their little problems at once had caused many of their bigger problems in the past.
With Emmie out of the way, Josh went into the kitchen and turned off the flames under two pots.
"Josh, I'm cooking!" Jenny protested as he propelled her onto the closed-in porch.
"Enough, Jen! Do you want Emmie repeating what you said?" he demanded.
Jenny gasped, "She heard?"
"Yes. She heard. I heard. I won't have it. This is not only for your swearing; it is for the way you spoke to me earlier. You have every right to voice an opinion, but you will not order me around." He pushed her over the back of a chair, yanked down her yoga pants, and laid into her backside with hard stinging smacks, which soon had her squirming and yelping. When he saw her bottom reddening, he stopped, yanked her pants back up, and set her on her feet.
"Are we clear on this? The days of behaving like your mother are over. I will not have you channeling her attitudes and bossiness."
Jenny cried, nodded in agreement, laid her head on his shoulder, and then turned away when she heard Emmie calling.
"We will discuss this later," Josh warned.
Jenny nodded again, although not sure what he meant. She was more in love with Josh now than in the last several years. However, she was not so sure about the resurgence of the strict Josh and his punishments. Part of her always loved the strong take-charge Josh. The part of her not liking it was her backside. Her bottom had paid the price for many a lie or small deception during the early days of their dating and marriage.
Broken Vows (Domestic Discipline Romance) Page 10