Dyer Consequences

by Maggie Sefton

  “Well, I’m glad I don’t have to be outside all day,” Kelly said, waving at the lanky, denim-clad young man who approached from the barn door. “Hey, Bobby, did you have to shovel this clearing yourself?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Bobby said. “That plow guy told me he might be late sometimes. He’s swamped.” He pushed his hat back, revealing a mop of curly blond hair. “I wish the university would plow better. I had to pull three folks outta the snow yesterday. I expect today will be worse.”

  “How many classes you takin’ this semester?” Jayleen asked, hands shoved in her back jeans pockets in her usual pose.

  “Can’t afford more than two, Miss Jayleen. Plus the homework is getting harder.” A boyish grin appeared. “Ranch management and ecology. If I pass those, I can take more.”

  “Well, you’re a hard worker, Bobby. I’m sure you’ll do well,” Kelly reassured him with a big smile. “Meanwhile, you keep track of how many times a month you have to shovel, and I’ll pay you extra. I really appreciate your doing that.”

  “Hey, thank you, Miss Kelly, that’s real nice of you,” he said. “By the way, I’m glad you let Miss Jayleen bring you up here in her truck. Your car looks exactly like the ones I’ve been pullin’ outta snowdrifts in town.”

  “Bobby, didn’t I tell you to call me Jayleen? I don’t know about Kelly, but I get an itch whenever anyone acts too polite around me.”

  “Same goes for me, Bobby. Kelly and Jayleen are just fine.”

  Bobby grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll try to remember. Did you wanta check out the livestock while you’re here? They’re doing real well. I’ve changed their feed like Miss—uh, like Jayleen told me. Since they can’t graze and all.”

  Kelly glanced toward the corral where more alpaca appeared, clustering about, clearly interested in their visitors. Then she caught a glimpse of the Rocky Mountains shimmering in the distance. The View To Die For. Not as stunning as yesterday’s view on the slopes, but still beautiful.

  “The animals look great, Bobby. But today, Jayleen and I want to walk through the barn and stable and take stock of what needs to be done. I’ll be coming again tomorrow with an architect to give me ideas about where to build a new ranch house.”

  “Why’re you gonna build a new one?” Bobby asked, clearly surprised. “The old house looks pretty good.”

  Jayleen shook her head. “Looks can be deceiving, Bobby. That ranch house has some rotted timbers, and the roof’s bad, so it’ll hav’ta be torn down.” She stared at the ramshackle barn in front of them. “Barn’s in bad shape, too. So it’ll hav’ta go.”

  “I can be here if you need me,” Bobby offered.

  Kelly shook her head. “That’s okay, Bobby. We’ll only have time for a walk around before we both have to get back into town. Steve’s got a meeting, and I have a class later.”

  Jayleen stared at Kelly with surprise. “What kind of tomfool class are you taking? I thought you said you were up to your ears in client work. You need me to help out?”

  “Thanks, Jayleen, but I think I’ll be okay. Mimi’s giving one of her classes on dyeing fibers at Lambspun, and I’ve signed up. Jennifer talked me into it to get me away from the computer. To tell the truth, it didn’t take much persuading. I love those gorgeous colors Mimi comes up with. Apparently she’s been creating them ever since she started Lambspun. They’re her specialties. I want to learn how she does it.”

  “Well, let me know if you need help with the accounts,” Jayleen said as she headed toward the barn.

  Bobby glanced over his shoulder at the ranch house as he followed behind her. “Are you sure they both have to go, ma’am? They look like they still have some life left.”

  “Sometimes, Bobby, we just have to start fresh. And Kelly here deserves a newer place,” Jayleen said with a grin. “Besides, she’s got an architect and builder for a boyfriend, so it’s an easy decision to make, right, Kelly?”

  “Ask me that when the bills come in,” Kelly joked as she fell in step behind them.

  Two

  Kelly stomped snow from her boots before yanking open the door to the House of Lambspun knitting shop. “Brrrrr!” she said, spotting her friend Jennifer, who was standing beside some baskets that overflowed with plump skeins of yarn. “I swear, it’s as cold here as it was up in the canyon this morning.”

  “You’ve been complaining about the cold ever since the snows started in December,” Jennifer said, stroking the yarns that spilled across a maple table. Lemon yellow, cranberry red, pumpkin orange, and rich browns that ran from light caramel to deep chocolate.

  Kelly couldn’t resist touching and sank her hands into another basket filled with luscious alpaca yarns. Black, brown, and gray alpaca combined in one skein to create a tweed. Kelly had used a similar color combination to make the luxurious scarf that protected her neck from the wind’s wintry blasts.

  “That’s because I’ve been cold ever since December. The cottage must need more insulation or something. I have to wear a thick sweater inside even when I turn up the heat.”

  Jennifer brushed her auburn hair away from her face and gave Kelly a sly smile. “If you let Steve stay over some night, I bet you wouldn’t have to turn up the heat.”

  Here we go again. Jennifer had stepped up her teasing lately. Kelly shifted the knitting bag over her shoulder and headed for the shop’s inviting main room. “Okay, okay. You can stop now.”

  “Just making a suggestion,” Jennifer said as she followed. “You don’t hear me complaining about the cold because I do something about it at night. Last night, it was Eddie. Tonight, it’ll be John. I think. Or maybe Ken.”

  Spying another friend sitting across the library table, Kelly smiled. “Hi, Megan. Jennifer’s telling me how she stays warm at night.”

  “I’m trying to be helpful,” Jennifer said as she plopped her knitting bag on the table and pulled out a chair. “Kelly’s always complaining about the cold, and I told her Steve would be more than happy to raise the heat at her place. If she’d let him.”

  Megan’s busy needles slowed as she looked up from the Valentine red yarn in her lap. Her fair complexion stained pink with a faint blush as she grinned. “I’m sure he would.”

  Kelly noticed Megan wasn’t blushing as intensely as she used to whenever Jennifer’s conversations got descriptive. “Okay, you can both stop now,” Kelly countered as she settled into a chair. “Why don’t you concentrate on one of those guys, Jennifer? Then you can stop snooping on Steve and me.”

  “I’ve told you, I don’t do permanent. Besides, there’s safety in numbers,” Jennifer said as she pulled a royal blue sweater from her bag and resumed knitting.

  “Hey, Kelly, can I convince you and Steve to sign up for another mixed doubles tennis tournament at the club? You two did great last December.” Megan glanced up from the bloodred yarn, stitches quickly forming on the needles.

  Is that a scarf taking shape? Kelly wondered if she’d ever be able to knit without paying attention like her friends could. She pulled out the variegated wool scarf she’d started. After the serious tweed alpaca yarns, Kelly needed color. These new yarns were a promise of spring for her eyes. The reds ran from bold strawberry to soft raspberry all the way to zinfandel pink and back again. She examined the last stitches. They were neater, and—sure enough—there were fewer mistakes. Despite all her doubts, she was getting better. Wonder of wonders. Her friends were right.

  “Megan, you’re being way too kind. Steve and I had our butts kicked in that tournament.”

  “But you made it halfway through. That’s saying a lot. Marty and I both think you and Steve could be dynamite if you played more.”

  Kelly laughed softly. “That would take a lot of practice, Megan, which means a lot of time. And that’s what neither Steve nor I have right now. He’s buried in that new building site in Old Town, and I’m up to my neck trying to earn money to start repairs on the canyon ranch.”

  “See? There’s another reason to play,” Megan said
, her blue eyes bright with enthusiasm. “You both work too much. Tennis will help you relax.”

  “I know something that would relax them even more,” Jennifer offered, not looking up from her needles.

  Kelly studiously ignored her. “You and Marty still wiping up the tennis courts with your opponents?” she asked Megan.

  “We try our best.”

  Kelly marveled again at how the supershy Megan had “backed into” dating without even knowing it. Clever Marty had slowly escalated from tennis matches to tennis-plus -dinner or tennis-plus-a-movie. Kelly wondered if Megan even realized she was dating Marty. She was clearly enjoying their time together.

  “How’s Marty doing? I haven’t seen him for a while.”

  “We haven’t seen him because we haven’t had a potluck since the holidays. Bring out the food, and I guarantee, old Marty will show up,” Jennifer said.

  Megan laughed. “You’re right about that. He really puts it away. I swear, he eats way more than I do, and you guys know my appetite.”

  “Unfortunately I do,” Jennifer said with a sigh. “Why is it that skinny people can eat like it’s their last meal and not get fat? Me . . . all it takes are a couple of doughnuts, and I see it on my hips the next day.” She shook her head.

  “If you’d run a little, you wouldn’t gain weight,” Kelly teased good-naturedly. “Just think how many doughnuts you could eat then.”

  “Or you could learn to play tennis at our club,” Megan offered.

  Jennifer sent Megan a jaundiced look. “I told you two, I prefer indoor sports.”

  “Tennis is indoors,” Kelly said.

  “It would be good for both of you,” Megan continued, a righteous fire of conviction shining forth. “Jennifer needs the exercise, and Kelly needs to relax from work.”

  “Maybe in the summer, Megan. I’ll have to wait and see how my schedule is by June. After I’ve paid off that loan for the property, maybe I can cut back on my workload then.”

  “The girls are right, Kelly. You do work too much,” another voice chimed in. Kelly turned to see the motherly shop owner, Mimi Shafer, smiling at them while she arranged knitting books on the surrounding shelves.

  The warm, welcoming knitting room was lined on two sides with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves crammed with books on knitting, crocheting, spinning, weaving, dyeing, felting, and garment patterns. If it had to do with fiber, there was a book on it. The sheer enormity of the topics always amazed Kelly. She was still stumbling through her stitches. Well, maybe not stumbling, but certainly not “tripping lightly” through them. Knitting still required her concentration.

  Kelly returned Mimi’s smile. “I can’t help it, Mimi. I’ve gotta earn lots of money to fix up that ranch. This morning, Jayleen confirmed what I suspected. In addition to the ranch house, both the barn and stable have to go. Steve and I will be going up tomorrow to decide where to build.”

  “Well, now, that’s exciting,” Mimi said. “Aren’t you lucky to have Steve design your house. I’m sure he’ll put his heart and soul into those plans.”

  “Steve could put his heart and soul into a whole lot more if she’d let him,” Jennifer teased.

  “I’m sure he could,” Mimi said, clearly trying to contain her laughter as she headed toward the classroom doorway.

  Kelly gave in to the inevitable. Once Jennifer started teasing, there was no stopping her.

  “How’s Carl liking all the snow?” Megan asked Kelly, changing the subject. “I don’t see him outside in the yard chasing squirrels.”

  “Believe me, Carl doesn’t spend more time outside in the cold than he has to. Even the squirrels don’t tempt him. He watches them from his doggie bed inside. I think we’re both adjusting to Colorado winters.”

  “Is Carl doing his Rottweiler duty at night to scare away those creeps who’ve been causing trouble?” Jennifer asked. “I haven’t heard anything new, and I figure the Lambspun network would be the first to know.”

  Kelly held up crossed fingers as she spied Lambspun regular Burt Parker enter the room, carrying a large fleece-filled plastic bag. “So far, so good. Those new outside lights must have done the job because nothing else has happened.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Kelly,” Burt said as he pulled out a spinning wheel from the corner and sat down. “You be sure to let me know if you see or hear anything suspicious, okay?”

  Kelly watched Burt, a retired cop turned spinner, place a hunk of creamy white wool fleece in his lap and start pulling the fibers apart gently, creating batten. “Count on it, Burt. Have you heard anything from your old partner?”

  Burt’s fingers worked the batten as his feet worked the treadle, yarn feeding onto the wheel. “He said there were reports of one bunch that tore up someone’s garage north of town a couple of weeks ago. Stole some electronic equipment then painted their slogan in red on the side of the garage.”

  Kelly sat up at that. “Whoa! Red paint? That may be them! Any leads on that one?”

  The soft hum of the wheel continued as yarn slowly filled the spindle. “Not yet. Unfortunately vandalism has gotten much more common over the years as more people have moved to Fort Connor. Problem is, there’s only so much manpower to go around, and other crimes have increased, too. Like burglaries and assaults. Those take a lot of time to investigate.”

  “That could be the same bunch, Burt,” Kelly offered, pulse racing despite the meditative hum of the wheel.

  Most of the time Kelly found it soothing to sit beside Burt or the other spinners. She liked to let the hum of the wheel and the peacefulness of knitting quiet her mind, arrange her thoughts, and bring new ideas. But not this time. Right now, all peaceful sensations of knitting were wiped away by ugly memories.

  “Maybe so, Kelly. Meanwhile, Dan’s keeping an eye out and checking all reports of vandalism that come in. We’ll find them eventually.”

  Kelly released a frustrated sigh, feeling the tension in her shoulders relax. “I know, I know. Everyone says that, Burt, and I know you’re all right. It’s the eventually part that bothers me.”

  “Thanks for the refill, Sarah,” Kelly called to the waitress as she left the café located at the rear of the knitting shop. Balancing her coffee mug and knitting bag, Kelly headed down the hallway. She had worked all afternoon and now she needed a break badly. This particular client’s accounts were testing her patience. Despite her instructions, this guy refused to enter all his expenses and sales receipts. Kelly was about to send him to someone with more patience—a lot more patience.

  She started to rush around a corner, but this time she stopped and paused. Good thing, too, because Jennifer was standing on the other side checking the cones of novelty yarns stacked on the wall.

  “Hey, Jen, you have time for coffee? The café is hosting a banquet, so they’re still open. I’m taking a break from a nightmare client.” Kelly headed through the arched doorway to the main room.

  “Don’t mention nightmare clients,” Jennifer replied, following after. “That’s why I left the office early. Both of my young client couples left me voice mails saying they plan to buy new homes and they’ve already signed with builder sales reps.” She dumped her large knitting bag on the library table. “I swear I’ve been taking them around for over a month now. I could have taken them to the building sites, but they didn’t even ask. It’s so frustrating when this happens.”

  Kelly plopped her things on the table and pulled out a chair. “It’ll get better, Jennifer. It always does. I’ve watched you sell real estate for nearly a year now, and it seems to come and go.”

  “Feast or famine.” Jennifer nodded resignedly. “But tell that to my landlord.”

  “Hey, you can always bunk in with me if times get really tough,” Kelly said, bringing out the variegated pink and red yarn. Chunky wool, too, like her very first winter scarf. Kelly wanted to play with the huge needles again. “The sofa’s comfortable. Carl sneaks up there all the time.”

  “Thanks, but I wouldn’t thin
k of it. I wouldn’t want to cramp Steve’s style. Just in case you have one martini too many some night and your defenses are down.” Jennifer smiled as she withdrew the sweater she was knitting. “But then, Steve is such a gentleman, he would never take advantage like that.”

  “It’s a good thing, too,” Kelly said, playing along this time. If you can’t lick ’em, join ’em. “If Steve tried anything, Carl would probably bite him in the butt.”

  Jennifer laughed out loud. “You’re right, he probably would. . . . Hey, look who’s here. Tracy! It’s about time you showed up,” she called into the next yarn room. “I’ve been telling you about this shop for weeks now.”

  Kelly glanced up and spotted a slender blonde, who looked to be in her early twenties, standing in the midst of the yarns with that glazed expression she witnessed on most newcomers’ faces. Kelly remembered the first time she entered the Lambspun shop . . . and promptly fell down the rabbit hole. She hadn’t come out since. “Friend of yours?” she asked.

  “Yeah, she’s a student at the university who also works part-time in our real estate office.” Jennifer beckoned Tracy over. “Come meet my friend Kelly. You’ve heard me talk about everyone here in the shop.”

  Tracy slowly approached the table, her eyes scanning the walls in obvious wonder. “Wow, you didn’t exaggerate, Jennifer. This place is fabulous. All these yarns . . . wow . . .” Her voice trailed off as she gazed.

  “Lambspun has that effect on people,” Kelly said, offering her hand. “I’m Kelly Flynn, Tracy. Glad you dropped in.”

  Tracy seemed to snap out of the yarn trance long enough to shake Kelly’s hand. “Hi, Kelly. I’m Tracy Putnam. Jennifer’s been tempting me with descriptions of the yarn at Lambspun ever since I told her I was a knitter.”

  “Now you know why I did,” Jennifer said. “Knitters who haven’t been here are seriously deprived. Did you leave the office early today?”

  Tracy reached into a nearby bin filled with tidy coils of variegated yarns—brown merging from chocolate into mahogany and russet, then burnt umber into pumpkin orange. “Susan sent me on an errand and said I didn’t need to return if I finished early.”