Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5)

by Freya Barker

  “How different? Better different, yes—things get too much for Emma or something happens, God forbid, Katie is right there.”

  “It might actually work,” I admit, “but I don’t even know if Clint would want me there, I’ve never really worked in an office before.”

  “Reckon you can run that damn diner on your own, the times you’ve jumped in over the years, running my shop should be a piece of cake.” Clint’s voice from behind startles me, I turn and only now notice him standing on the doormat by the back door. I was so engrossed, I never heard the sliding door.

  “How long have you been there?” I want to know and his mouth tilts up slightly.

  “Long enough to know you’re too worried about everyone else and not worried enough about what you want. What do you want Beth? Cause I can tell you, it’d make my fucking life even better than it already is, with us growing the business and tending a family, together.”

  “Thinking my job is done here, I feel mushy coming on, and once a day is already more than enough,” Arlene chuckles, getting up and pulling on her boots in the hallway. “You can let me know after the holidays, take some time to think. I’ll leave the bag with presents by the door. Don’t forget to grab it when you’re... done.”

  I hear the click of the door, that’s it. I’m still staring at Clint, who’s staring right back at me. “You mean that?”

  “What do you mean, do I mean that? Of course I mean that. I’d love to have you deal with the likes of Sarah Creemore. Saves me the aggravation.” He’s only half serious, clear from the sparkle of humor in his eyes, but it’s true that Sarah Creemore has been a big pest. He’s told me she’s still trying to get him to come over to ‘fix’ things. Fact that he’s been sending his sixty year old, bow-legged foreman over, is apparently not appreciated. Had me a good chuckle over that.

  “Wow. Guess that means we have a plan now?” I watch Clint toe off his boots, unwrap the scarf around his neck, and pull off the beanie he’s taken to wearing in place of his hat. He stalks to me slowly, his teeth bright white in his growing beard. When he gets to me, he first bends his mouth, and takes mine in a soul shattering kiss. One that has me glad I’m already sitting down or it would’ve put me on my ass. Then he pulls me off the stool, turns me in the direction of the hallway and gently steers me to the bedroom.

  Oh yeah.

  -

  -

  “Pwesents?”

  Max is pointing up at the Christmas tree, sitting in the middle of a pile of wrapping paper he industriously ripped off every last one of his presents. And ours. All except one last one, a little one, that was dangling off a branch out of his reach. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t spot it.

  He really should have no concept of Christmas yet, but still he woke us up at five thirty this morning, just like any other kid at Christmas. Still dark as night outside, I decided to light candles and set them where Max can’t reach, with the only lamplight coming from the kitchen. Getting coffee ready, a pot this time, for Clint and myself and a sippy cup of milk for Max, it only took a minute to pop the cinnamon rolls Arlene left by the front door last night in the oven. Along with the box of rolls, there’d been a bag with a variety of gourmet goodies: premium coffee, which was brewing, chocolate covered strawberries, a folded paper bag with marshmallows, graham crackers, and the good slabs of Lindt chocolate. A note on the bag had said, Breakfast is on us, love Seb & Arlene. Lastly there’d been a bottle of nice champagne. At least I think it’s nice, because it says Moët & Chandon, and I know Queen, one of my favorite bands of all time, sings about it. I was ready to dig in last night, but Clint made me put it all in the fridge for today. Party-pooper.

  I’d set it out early this morning, while the cinnamon rolls were heating up and the coffee was percolating, but the moment Clint walked into the kitchen with Max on his arm, he handed Max to me and started putting everything back in the fridge.

  “Save it for later. First let’s get this little guy at his presents, he’s chomping at the bit.”

  He was hardly chomping, cause by the time I settled on the couch, with a coffee in front of me and Max on my lap with his milk, he was almost dozing off. Of course that didn’t last long, because the moment Clint handed him a present, he slid on the floor and proceeded to decimate the pretty wrapping paper without even paying it attention.

  “Bean,” Clint leaned over and drew my attention. I guess I must’ve looked funny, because he chuckled, “ripping wrapping paper is half the fun when you’re two.”

  Right. I keep reminding myself with every prettily wrapped gift that got ripped to bits, and all with the biggest smile. I know Clint is saving the sled for after breakfast, so they can go out and try it right away.

  But there is that little present, dangling from the tree and I have no idea how it got there. I didn’t do it and I know Clint didn’t do it, cause both of us agreed that gift giving at Christmas should be reserved for kids. Maybe Arlene?

  -

  -

  She’s curious as hell about the gift, I can tell. The wheels are turning and she can barely keep her eyes off it. Even if she wanted to ignore it, she can’t. Max won’t let her since he’s been pointing at it and chanting, ‘pwesent,’ incessantly. I want her to take it down herself, so I’m almost sitting on my hands to keep from pulling it down and handing it to her myself.

  Arlene had been good. She’s known since last Wednesday, when she picked me up from my office to drive the two hours into Durango. Her call, since according to her, that’s where the good stores were. The decision was easy, since both of us decided the moment we saw it. It was perfect for Beth. We were back in Cedar Tree at one, where she dropped me off at the office with a pat on my cheek and a compliment. “You did good,” is what she said. The rest of it, I asked her to plan and she did. Hence the goodies she left here last night. Surprised me, she could keep a secret that well.

  Finally, she gets up and walks to the branch I had hung the little box on last night, after leaving her sated, and in deep sleep in our bed.

  “This?” she asks Max with a smile, and is about to hand it over to him to ‘unwrap.’

  “Maybe you should unwrap it,” I suggest, her eyes now big as saucers. She sits down on the edge of the couch and looks down at the gift, and then back up to me.

  “From you?”

  I don’t say anything, just shrug, sitting down beside her as she starts carefully picking at the tape holding the paper together and driving me to distraction. “Maybe we should’ve given it to Max after all. Unwrapping this way could take us to dinnertime.”

  Her eyes flash at me before returning to the little box in her hands. She’s usually sharp as a tack, Beth is, but for some reason it’s taking her a long time to clue in. I can pinpoint the moment it happens, her spine snaps straight and one of her hands comes up to cover her mouth. She doesn’t have it open yet, but the logo of the jeweler’s is prominent on the lid.

  My turn now.

  Taking the box from her hand, I slide down on the floor in front of her feet and flip up the lid, displaying the simple square cut diamond Arlene and I both picked out.

  “Oh my God...”

  “Beth—“ I start what I’ve rehearsed for two weeks, but Beth grabs my hand. The one holding the box up.

  “Oh my God, Clint.”

  “Bean, I—“

  “YES!” she screams. So loud that Max’s bottom lip starts quivering.

  “Babe! Can I ask you first?” But it’s no use, she’s up and running for the phone, and I’m still sitting on the floor with the box in my hand. Max crawls on my lap, and the two of us watch her jump up and down, squealing into the phone.

  “He gave me a ring! I’ve never had a ring before. Like...NEVER! — What? Yes of course I said yes, you think I’d say no? I never thought at forty-six years old, I’d ever get asked. I’ve wanted to hear those words only my whole life. — What he said? I...uh. I’ve gotta go. — I’ll call you back, I gotta go now!”

  She puts
down the phone, turns to face Max and I and that’s when it happens.

  “I’m so sorry...” she whispers, big tears rolling down her face. “I ruined it. I’m so sorry.”

  I set Max on the floor, who is easily distracted by the rustle of wrapping paper, get up, and walk over to where she’s hanging on to the counter for dear life. I’d lie if I said I wasn’t a little irritated that she’d turn into a lunatic when I gave her the ring. It simply hadn’t occurred to me that she’d never had this before. I don’t know if I’d have planned it differently, but the things she said on the phone to, I assume Arlene, evaporated any annoyance I might have felt. So I pull her against me and let her get herself together for a minute. Cause come what may, I am going to ask her that question. The one she’s never had asked before.

  “Hush,” I whisper in her hair, as she continues to mumble, ‘sorry,’ over and over again, until finally she settles, her arms around my middle and her hands fisted in the T-shirt on my back. “I still have a question to ask you, even though I think I might already know the answer.”

  Her head tilts back. Although her face is blotchy and wet from crying, she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. So I tell her.

  “It’s those liquid brown eyes that can shoot sparks when you’re angry, twinkle when you laugh, turn bright when you’re happy, and intensely hot when you’re turned on. But when they go soft, and I can feel the love you feel for me touch me with your gaze, that’s when you are at your most beautiful. I love all those parts: the fiery, funny, happy, and passionate Beth. I waited for a long time for you to let me see all the different aspects of you, and with each one you revealed, you hooked me even deeper. I’m never gonna let you go, you know? Thought I had it once, but it doesn’t even deserve to be in the shadow of what I have now, and I know it. Marry me, Bean?”

  I barely hear her response this time, but it doesn’t matter, she shouted it loud enough the first time. What matters is that she throws her arms around me and kisses me like she means it.

  “I love you. I’m so glad I held out,” she says after breaking away from the kiss, smile bright on her face.

  “Not half as glad as I am. I’d have been an idiot not snap you up.”

  Max who has been quietly playing for a few minutes, suddenly jumps to his feet and runs over. He stops next to us, one hand on each of our legs and tilts his head back, big smile on his face.

  “Idjit?”

  EPILOGUE

  March

  “I can’t believe you’ll be here soon.”

  Beth’s been waiting for this day for a long time.

  February 26th was the first day Jablonski’s trial was before the court. It was the first time in months Beth had been able to see and touch her son. The small room in the back of the courthouse was too small to contain all the people crammed in there. FBI agents, prosecutors, Beth and I were already in there when Special Agent Gomez showed up with his prize witness. Despite all the bodies, there was no one in the room when Beth closed Dylan in her arms.

  We’d driven to Denver and planned to stay for the duration. Jed had decided to hold off on expanding to Durango until after the trial. This so he could take over while I made sure my woman would get all the closure she needed on this ugly episode in her life. For two weeks we stayed and attended each and every day, and on the fifth day of the trial, Dylan was called to the stand. I’d had to hold Beth back when Jablonski’s defense attorney was cross-examining and seemed intent on ripping Dylan’s testimony and credibility apart, going so far as to claim him a deadbeat father, who abandoned his child. I’d almost had to muzzle her to shut her up because the prosecutor was throwing concerned glances our way and even the judge threw some irritated looks in our direction. Jablonski’s lawyer didn’t get very far though, especially when Beth was called to testify to the circumstances under which Max was left at the house, which she explained in great detail, as well as her experience when she was kidnapped and cut. She was a rock on the stand, just like her son, and I was proud as hell of her. The hardest was when they showed slides of the damage done to her by Jablonski’s knife. The scars are barely visible now, thank goodness, but the pictures were taken in the hospital before she’d been clean up and stitched. It looked pretty gruesome and it showed in the demeanor of the jury.

  At the end of the two weeks, we were relieved, although not surprised, that Stan Jablonski was sentenced to life in prison. Not solely for the attack on Beth, but for a multitude of other charges, all added consecutively. Even so, just the sentence for the charge of attempted murder on Beth, netted him the maximum allowable, twenty-four years. Given that the man is late forties, that alone would’ve made him an old man by the time he was up for release. But with all the other charges added together, his sentence ended up to total ninety-three years. No chance of parole. He’d never see the light of day again, and with that, my Bean had the closure she needed to sleep well at night.

  It’s a week after the sentencing and we’ve been back in Cedar Tree, waiting for Dylan to come home. Gomez had warned it would likely not be an immediate thing, since they wanted some time to sit down with him, and with the information gleaned at trial, see if there was anything that might’ve come up. Seemed a bit odd to me, but Beth didn’t question it, so I didn’t either. I just had a brief and rather enlightening conversation with Gus, who seems quite familiar with the inner workings of the FBI. The answers I got there are not ones I’m ready to share with Beth. Not yet. Not going to cause her more worry before she has a chance to enjoy her son home and safe.

  “He says they’re just driving through Cortez. Do I look okay?” I chuckle at her fiddling with her clothes and hair, earning me a dirty look. “I’ve gotta look my best, Clint. My boy’s coming home today.”

  “Sugar, you’d look good in a potato sack.”

  “You’re just saying that because...well, because you’re you,” she spits out, “Dylan’s not you, and I want to make sure I look good.”

  “I promise you look beautiful.” That nets me a little smile but then I go and put my foot in. “But did you remember to take those pills Naomi suggested you take?”

  See, Beth had been having some symptoms: nightmares, night sweats, mood swings, and even hot flashes. She’d kept on insisting it would pass, it was just stress, but I wasn’t buying it, so I insisted taking her to see Naomi. I didn’t know, I just thought if it was really the events leading up to Christmas that were having such an impact on her, perhaps Naomi could convince her to go see a counsellor or something. When she walked out of Naomi’s office, she immediately turned on me.

  “It’s all your fault,” were her words, and Naomi, who’d come out of the office behind her started giggling. “I’ve hit early menopause, and I could’ve lived happily without having my decline in age thrown in my face. That’s on you.”

  My face was working hard to hide the smile, but not hard enough, because she noticed and immediately her anger turned to tears. There was nothing to do but take her in my arms. Looking over her head, Naomi winked at me.

  “Beth, honey? Get that prescription filled, I promise those supplements will make you feel better.”

  Those are the pills I’m referring to, and apparently reminding her of the fact she’s menopausal is not improving her frantic mood, cause now she’s crying. Again.

  “Babe, don’t cry,” I try, knowing full well each time I do, and I do it a lot these days, she only cries harder.

  “I did take my pills, but now my makeup is ruined,” she sobs. I don’t have the heart to point out that the moment Dylan walks in that door, she’ll be bawling and messing it up anyway. So I pull her to me and let her cry it out, getting black guck all over my good shirt. Not that I mind, holding Beth in my arms is never a hardship.

  “Gammy!”

  “Oh my God, Max is already awake, and Dylan will be here soon.” She pulls from my arms, grabs a box of tissues from the counter and starts wiping furiously at her face.

  “Relax. I’ll grab
Max out of bed and you keep an eye out for Dylan.” And for that I deserve a big smile. So big, it brightens the room.

  Before I’m done getting Max dressed, I hear the front door open and Beth squealing, “You’re here!” I turn to Max who is chewing on his stuffed animal.

  “Guess who’s here?” I whisper to him. “Is that your daddy?”

  “Big gah?”

  “No,” I try again, “your daddy.”

  “Daddy?”

  And now it’s my turn to smile big as I lift him up and carry him to see his father.

  -

  -

  June

  “Hello, Mrs. Mason.”

  Clint’s deep voice rumbles in my ear, and I slowly open my eyes to the bright sunshine.

  First day of our honeymoon and we’re spending it in Hawaii. Always wanted to go to Hawaii, but it was simply never in the cards. Because we had a simple wedding, something both of us wanted, with only close friends and family thus half of the population of Cedar Tree, Clint pointed out we could easily afford Hawaii. Who am I to argue?

  We had gorgeous weather, not a cloud in the sky and not yet hot enough to be bothersome. The ceremony was simple and performed on Katie and Caleb’s back deck. They undisputedly have the best view. Arlene was standing up for me and Jed had his brother’s back. That’s it, no gaggles of bridesmaids or flower girls, although we did have Max carry the pillow with the rings, which Dylan had to rescue when Max tossed it over the railing and Blue, Katie’s dog, went after it thinking it was a game. The ceremony was short and sweet. Although I was wearing white, Arlene insisted, and Clint was in a suit, and can I say he looked hotter than Hades in it, we had placed no expectations on anyone else regarding dress code. There simply was none. Our wish was for everyone to feel comfortable and have fun. Despite that everyone still made an effort to look nice. Max had dark jeans and a nice dress shirt, the tie Dylan insisted he wear was lost somewhere on the way from my old house, where Dylan now lives; yes, another wish come true, and the Barn, as everyone calls Caleb and Katie’s place. I wasn’t very happy when I discovered shortly after Dylan’s return, that he’d been recruited by the FBI and was going to leave in July for a few months of training. For that reason, he felt it best that Max simply live with us for the time being, provided Clint and I were all right with that. I was surprised to find Clint blurting out, “of course,” before I even had a chance to say anything. Dylan would take him regularly and it was good to see the bond grow between those two. Tammy, of course, was not heard from again, although every now and then Dylan would talk about her.