Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5)

by Freya Barker

  “Bean? What the hell is that? Some depraved sexual term I’m unfamiliar with?” Despite the fact that her eyes are burning fire into mine, she spits her words through tight lips; she still makes me laugh out loud. Don’t think that earns me any points, though.

  “As in jumping bean, woman. It fits you. Nothing sexually depraved about it.”

  She still looks dubious when I lean down and whisper close to her face, “Although I can’t lie and say you don’t stir up some depraved sexual fantasies, your interpretation of that name was all your refreshingly dirty mind.”

  Rolling her eyes in her head, she wiggles until I loosen my grip on her hands and back away. Only a little.

  “You have multiple personalities or something, I’ve never met someone so confusing. One minute you’re the ultimate charming southern gentleman, if you don’t count the sexist default you fall into every now and then. The next you’re a grumpy old coot who is most definitely not for social consumption, and now—now you’re this horny, predatory sex fiend.” She finally manages to slip away from me. This time I make no attempt to stop her.

  “I’m gonna call Dylan’s landlord to let him know Mal will be by, and then I have to get ready for work.”

  Clearly dismissed, I leave her sitting at the table keeping an eye on Max, who’s happily playing on the floor and making her phone call, to go outside. I need a little cooling off ‘cause things have gone from zero to high octane since last night.

  -

  It’s pretty cold out this morning. Judging by the white residue left behind on the grass by an overnight frost, I have a feeling we’ll be feeling the full effects of winter soon. The backyard is pretty big, but doesn’t necessarily feel that way with quite the number of mature trees dotting the property. Since moving in, I haven’t really done much with the space, other than throw some folding chairs on the patio made up of old pavers. Come spring I want to take some time and build a nice deck out here, but first the tree house. Don’t know how I came up with the idea, but this big old catalpa tree halfway down the yard reminded me of a tree in my parents’ yard growing up. It’d been an old one like this and I remember my father building Jed and I a tree house one summer. That’s what I’d been drawing; my own tree house. Not gonna deny having the little man around didn’t have something to do with it. I happen to think all kids should have a tree house growing up, especially boys. God, the shit Jed and I used to get into. Good thing my parents never found out half of it. But it’d also been the place where I’d kissed my first girl, Becky Fortnoy. Damn I couldn’t have been more then twelve, if that. I chuckle at the memory of the chubby little girl from next door. She’d been Jed’s age, was in his class actually, and he’d been hanging around her with his tongue hanging out for months. I figured being the older brother I’d test the waters for him. Damn, I was a shit back then. He’d been so pissed when he climbed up and found us in a sloppy lip lock, my hand holding on to her little budding breasts that fascinated me to no end. It was weeks before he even talked to me again. Yeah, now I could laugh about it, but then I hadn’t thought it funny when my pops found out and tanned my hide but good. He made sure I was sorry for hitting on my brother’s girl. Well, Pops, Jed got his own back in a big way.

  Shaking my head to clear the not so good memories, I examine the tree for good anchor points for my design. Too bad it’s getting cold, cause I wouldn’t mind getting a start on it now. Max would love it.

  I hear the sliding door open and Beth sticks her head out.

  “Putting on another pot, you gonna have some more?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right in.”

  I watch her close the door and move into the kitchen, where I can see her through the window over the sink. She hasn’t said anything about Jed the last few days. I haven’t asked either, I almost don’t wanna know the answer. I wonder if this is Becky Fortnoy all over, with Jed biding his time while I make the move. No it fucking isn’t; Beth’d been mine long before that shit showed up. I wonder if he’s told her about what happened.

  I spend some time rummaging through the old barn at the back of the property looking for usable lumber, but with the chill creeping into my bones, it’s time to go in and see about that coffee.

  “Did you get sorted with the landlord?” I ask, walking into the kitchen where Beth is just rinsing out our mugs from earlier.

  “I did. He’s gonna be out of town but says he’ll leave a key for Mal with the next door neighbor. I also called Mal to let him know when and where.”

  “Good. I guess I better get hold of Katie and sort Max,” I offer, reaching for the phone.

  “Actually, I just talked to her, too. She says she’ll pick him up after his nap, if that’s okay? She’s got a babysitter organized for the clinic’s open house tonight and offered to keep Max there so we can pop in and just pick him up after.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  I notice Beth chewing her bottom lip and reach out to pull it from between her teeth.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  She snorts as her eyes flick to mine and she takes a deep breath before responding. “What isn’t? Let’s see, my son’s in some kind of trouble and has disappeared off the grid. I’m about to start work in an hour and have my grandbaby to worry about while I’m gone. I’m living in your spare bedroom, and I can’t figure out why I’m still here, but I don’t know if I wanna go home. And you are confusing the hell out of me. Is that enough?” Her eyes are full of uncertainty as I weigh her words.

  “Yes. It’s plenty, but you can only eat an elephant one bite at a time.” I lean back against the counter, put my arm around her shoulders and tuck her close. “Mal’s hopefully gonna find out more today, after he’s gone through Dylan’s place. Max will be fine with me for a bit and will have a blast later with Blue and Mattias. And I like having you here. Max too. I’m glad you’re here to help out. As for me confusing you—I thought I’d made it pretty obvious that I like you, Beth. Not sure where the confusion comes in, but let that be one thing you get straight.”

  “I just don’t want to become dependent on you,” she mutters against my shoulder.

  “I reckon I should be the one worried about dependency here. Not you,” I chuckle as she slaps my chest.

  “What are we doing, Clint? This...thing we’ve got happening here—I don’t have a very good track record. In all honesty, I’m scared of it.”

  I lift my arm and turn her around by the shoulders and pull her between my legs facing me.

  “What we’re doing here is acting on an attraction that’s been brewing for a long time now.” When she tries to turn her face away, I place a hand on her cheek and nudge her back. “A long time, Beth, and you know it. I admit that for a bit I thought I was never gonna get you to admit, let alone act on this ‘thing’ we have, and I was trying to convince myself to let it go. To let you go. But now that I’ve had a sampling? Honey, there’s no way we’re not gonna explore the hell out of it.”

  With the tiniest of smiles teasing the corners of her mouth, Beth does a head plant in my chest, and I press my lips to the top of her head, smiling my own little smile.

  “Gammy! See toy?”

  Our little moment is interrupted by a wide smiling Max, who’s been suspiciously quiet now that I come to think of it. In his hand he proudly holds what looks to be Beth’s purple battery operated companion with a Lego man stuck on its bunny ears.

  -

  -

  “Max!”

  I want the earth to swallow me up. Right now.

  Scrambling to distance myself from a howling Clint, I lunge at my vibrator clutched in Max’s little hands. When I grab it from him, his big smile dissolves in a quivering lip. Realizing I’ve probably scared him shitless, I mindlessly drop the offensive toy and scoop the little guy up in my arms, just as the first crocodile tear starts tracking down his chubby cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, baby. Gammy didn’t mean to scare you,” I coo in his hair, bouncing him in my arms to settle
him. I’d almost forgotten the damn thing when a still snickering Clint comes up behind me.

  “I’ve got your toy, Beth. Next time you need to ‘play,’ you come to me; don’t want you playing by yourself anymore.” The low, almost dangerous rumble of his voice resonates all through my body before he disappears down the hall, my bunny in his large fist. But I don’t have a chance to consider exactly what his words mean, when my cell phone rings. With Max still sniveling against my shoulder, I grab my phone off the table and check the screen. Dylan.

  “Hey, honey?” I answer it, but am met with silence.

  “Hello?” A man’s voice sounds on the other side. Not Dylan’s.

  “Who is this?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, I found this phone sitting on a bench along the river in Oxbow Park earlier this morning. I couldn’t find anything identifying, so I called the last number dialed. Apparently that is you?” The voice sounds cultured with only the slightest hint of an accent.

  “It’s my son’s. Where did you say you found it?”

  “Oxbow Park? In Durango? Look, I have to go back to work, but how can I get in touch with your son?”

  “Shit—sorry. I...” I’m scrambling to think what to do, when it comes to me. “I can have someone pick it up from you. Do you work in Durango?”

  “I do, but I have meetings all afternoon. Perhaps I can get my secretary to courier it to you?”

  “Sure, I’m in Cedar Tree. Beth Franklin, just send it to—“ Clint scowls at me before glancing down at the phone he’s just literally yanked from my hand.

  “Who’s this?” he barks in the phone. “Hello?”

  With a grunt he disconnects and pins me with an angry glare.

  “What the heck, Beth? Did you even know who that was?”

  My initial surge of anger quickly subsides as I process his question. I didn’t know. It could’ve been anyone.

  “I...he...the call was from Dylan’s phone. I thought it was him, I...I never thought...” I let my voice trail off before trying again. “He said he found his phone by the river in Oxbow Park. Wanted to return it. I was gonna give him my address.” A sick feeling settles in my stomach as Max squirms in my arms. I put him down and he toddles over to his pile of toys on the floor, before I turn to face Clint and tell him exactly what was said.

  “You know when someone finds a phone somewhere outside, the logical thing to do would be to drop it off at the nearest police station, right?” He points out and I have to agree. “I’m thinking we should let Katie or better yet, Mal, know about this. He’s in Durango right now.”

  “I can’t believe I was that dumb. Sorry.” Damn, that word sounds rough coming from my mouth. I probably don’t use it enough.

  The anger long gone from Clint’s face, he reaches out and grabs me by the nape of my neck, touching his forehead to mine.

  “You’re worried. He caught you off guard and who knows? He may well have been legit, but the fact he hung up the moment I got on the phone probably is a good indicator he didn’t call with the best of intentions. And Beth? I’m sorry too—for getting pissed.”

  An excited Max interrupts the moment, by appearing from the far end of the hallway, one of my bras dangling from his hand and dragging half behind him on the floor to Clint’s great hilarity. I manage to unclench his little fist from the strap, and while Clint picks my investigative little guy up, still chuckling, I go to return the damn thing to my suitcase. Just before I disappear into the bedroom, I hear Clint’s voice say, “Think I’m gonna keep you here, little man. You know where to find all the good stuff.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “So damn good to have you back, woman.”

  Seb puts his arm around me and pulls me in for a side hug.

  I hit the floor running so to speak, when I came into the diner just before noon. Saturdays are always busy for lunch and it looked like they got an early start today. The parking lot already filling quickly, I pull my car around the back, parking it next to the dumpster. With a quick wave hello, I throw on my apron, tuck my pencil behind my ear and pop a fresh strip of Wrigley’s spearmint in my mouth. Ready for battle—and I’ve got to say, it feels good. The diner has been my second home—hell, at times it was my first home—for near thirty years. Hard to believe that what was supposed to be a part time job turned into a career.

  Some career. I don’t regret any of it though. Sure, I let myself get too distracted back when I should’ve been preparing for college, and before I even had a chance to get my head on straight, I fell in love with a boy who was destined for great things. Or so I thought. Joel and I met at Mesa Verde National Park where I worked during the summer of 1989 to save up enough for college. Joel Barnes was a tall, lanky university student from Chicago, who as an anthropology student was eager to work at Mesa Verde during the summer months. I think it was his eager need to learn as much as he could about the Anasazi and their way of life, that attracted me to him in the first place.

  The friendship we struck up morphed into a hot heavy affair in no time, and when he had to go home for a family reunion that July, I cried at the thought of missing him, even just for the four days he’d be gone.

  Turned out I’d had real reason to cry. I knew in my heart he’d been on that plane the moment the news hit that flight 232 from Denver to Chicago had crash-landed in Iowa. Funny how I felt his loss, even before it was confirmed he’d been one of the passengers who didn’t make it out.

  We’d only been together for six weeks and yet he left me with something to remember him by for the rest of my life.

  Dylan.

  I didn’t find out I was pregnant until I was about to start college, and it changed my life on a dime. That was one of those occasions where the diner became my home because it literally was for years. Well, actually the apartment above it where the old owners let me live after my father kicked me out.

  He was a hard military man with no tolerance for disobedience; not from his wife and certainly not from his daughter. I’d been so keen to head off to college in the big city, leaving my hometown in the dust. But when I found out I was going to have a baby, that dream evaporated with the need for support. Ha. Support—that’s a good one. When I told my folks I was pregnant, my mother just clapped her hands over her mouth and said nothing when my dad slapped me so hard he split my lip. Then he packed up my clothes and tossed them on the front lawn. That’d been the last time I spoke to my parents. Oh, I’d see them around town, from time to time, but they never even acknowledged me. Not even when I was pushing Dylan in a stroller at Safeway and they came around the corner of the aisle. They never spared him or me a glance. That’s when I knew it was me and my boy against the world.

  When I was contacted by a lawyer years later, Dylan had been nine at the time, to tell me I was sole beneficiary of my father’s will, I was shocked. I hadn’t known that my father had died of a heart attack a month before, or that it happened not long after mom apparently succumbed to cancer. As much as Cortez is still a small town where nothing is secret long, the grapevine had failed on this one. I’d had no idea. The money I used for a down payment on the little house I bought to make sure Dylan had a home to grow up in. The pain and regret I tucked away safely, and I made sure never to make myself that vulnerable to anyone again.

  I thought it worked. Until Clint.

  -

  “You seem miles away,” Seb says.

  I didn’t hear him walk up behind me at the counter, where I’m refilling the condiment trays for the dinner crowd, when he slips his arm around my shoulders.

  “I was. Years away, actually,” I offer, turning my head to face him. “And I’m really glad to be back too. Missed you guys...and the diner.”

  “Why don’t you head home? It’s almost five anyway and Arlene and I can hold the fort until the help gets here. Been a busy afternoon, bet your feet hurt.”

  Yes, they fucking do. Funny how I suddenly feel my age, my body obviously quick to forget the demands of waitressing. Turni
ng to find Arlene wiping down tables, I call out to her.

  “Hey, your husband is sending me home. That okay with you?”

  Her head lifts and she dismisses me with her hand. “Go, but have your ass back here tomorrow for noon. You can have Monday off.”

  I snort loudly.

  “Diner’s closed Mondays, Arlene. Don’t make it sound like you’re doing me a favor.”

  “Like I said, good day for you to be off. Now get gone, don’t have time to drag my ass like someone I know. We’ll pop in at the clinic later.”

  “You’re a peach, I’ll see you later,” I smile when Arlene turns a glare on me. That woman loves me, almost as much as I love her, and she knows it. Grabbing my purse and coat, I drag my sorry ass to the parking lot in the back where the sound of a giggle has me turning my head. A stacked blonde is standing on the bottom step of the stairs going up to the apartment above the diner, her body hanging against Malachi’s big frame. Katie’s brother-in-law tilts his chin at me before turning his scowling face back to the Barbie around his neck. Seeing as he’s busy, it would be awkward for me to interrupt with questions about Dylan’s place, and I turn back to get into my car. I’ve barely turned the key when a tap on my window startles me. Mal gestures for me to roll down the window.

  “Hey, Beth. Sorry about that,” he says in his gravelly voice, looking back to the stairs where the blonde woman still lingers with thunder on her face. “Some unwelcome baggage from a job I did earlier this month that keeps on popping up.”

  I can’t help but snort. “There’s a way to avoid that, Mal. Keep it in your pants.”

  He chuckles softly at my words, shaking his head.

  “Not as bad as you make me out to be, Bethie. If I was up to half of the shit you accuse me of, I’d be worn off to a stump.”

  Now I laugh out loud; a sound that apparently carries because I just catch the movement of Blondie stomping off around the side of the building.