The Coppersmith Farmhouse

by Devney Perry

  I closed the door and turned to sit back down next to Noelle on the couch. Jess didn’t have wine in his house but I’d thought ahead and brought provisions. I was on glass number two while Noelle was still nursing her first.

  I took in a long breath, relaxing into the couch. Though it wasn’t much to look at, Jess’s couch was comfortable.

  “You’re a good mother,” Noelle said.

  “Uh . . . thanks.”

  Her comment took me off guard. I appreciated the compliment but I wasn’t sure what had brought it on.

  “You know, Ben Coppersmith used to call me every week,” she said. “On Tuesdays. He never missed a Tuesday. Not in nineteen years. I knew he’d passed when he didn’t call.”

  “He died on a Saturday night,” I said. “In his sleep.”

  “He was always there for Jess. Even after he moved. Practically gave him that house. Except of course when he actually gave it to you. That house has been the pride and joy of my son’s life. Good of Ben to give him that. Good of him to keep in touch too. Checking in with me to make sure Jess was doing okay.”

  The doorbell rang again and I jumped up to answer it, glad to have a reprieve from the strange conversation.

  “I never remembered Halloween,” Noelle said when I sat back down. “I don’t think the kids ever had costumes until they were old enough to get them on their own.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that so I kept quiet.

  “I wasn’t much of a mother to my kids. I tried, but . . .”

  My heart ached for her. She clearly loved her children, but she just wasn’t mentally equipped to care for them properly. It made me sad for Jess and his sister. But it made me sad for Noelle too.

  Being Rowen’s mother was the greatest gift in my life. Going all out at Halloween, cooking her favorite dinners, painting her room just the right color. All those things brought me immeasurable joy. Noelle had missed out on that.

  I leaned forward and gently patted her knee.

  “I don’t know your daughter, but I’ve spent the better part of three months getting to know your son. And he’s a wonderful man. I’d give yourself a little more credit,” I said.

  She gave me a small, reluctant smile. “Thanks, Gigi.”

  We had just dropped off Noelle and were making our way to the farmhouse. Roe was wired. Beyond wired. She was bouncing up and down and kicking her legs frantically back and forth in her car seat.

  Not only had Jess taken her through his neighborhood to collect more candy, but he’d also let her eat it along the way. A four-year-old stuffing her face with candy. For over an hour.

  We were almost to my gravel drive when Jess’s phone rang. He listened for a minute before veering to the side of the road, shutting off the car lights and shoving it in park.

  “Jess, what’s going on?”

  “One sec,” he mouthed, holding up a finger.

  Roe was babbling in the back and I turned around to tell her to shush. When I turned back to Jess, he was off the call.

  “Dispatch says there’s a gang of punk kids going around vandalizing country houses. They’re taking advantage of people being in town. Spinning donuts in the yards, smashing pumpkins, spray-painting doors.”

  “What?” I gasped. “Oh no. Did they get the farmhouse?”

  “I don’t know yet. You two stay here. I’m gonna walk down and check it out. Got your phone?”

  I nodded.

  “Keep it close. I’ll call if you can come down. You see anything other than me coming down the drive, call 9-1-1 immediately and drive back to my house. Got it?”

  I nodded again. “Be careful.”

  I was totally freaked out that he was leaving me in a dark car with my daughter while he wandered out into the black night alone.

  He reached over and pulled his badge and a set of handcuffs out of the glove compartment. After he tucked them into his pocket, he patted my hand quickly and climbed out the door.

  He had his gun on him already. If we were heading into town, he almost always brought it. It was on his belt when he was in uniform. If he was in plain clothes, it was tucked away, hidden under his clothes. Tonight, it was holstered under his arm at his side, beneath his sweater and coat.

  “Where’s Jess going?” Roe asked.

  “He’s just checking out a couple of things, baby girl. We’re going to hang out here. Okay?”

  “Can I go with him? Please,” she begged.

  “No, sweetie. How about you tell me what kind of costumes you saw when you were walking around with Jess?”

  My ploy worked and she yammered on and on about the different costumes she had seen tonight while I sat in the front, clutching my phone, barely listening to her. With every minute that ticked by, I got more and more anxious.

  I was squirming in my seat ten minutes later, about to call Jess, when flashing lights came up behind us. Two cruisers flew by, speeding to the farmhouse.

  Eff.

  When the lights disappeared from my view, I slid over into the driver’s seat, ready to turn on the car and get the hell out of there. I was reaching for the keys when my phone vibrated in my hand. I jumped about six inches out of the seat and fumbled it in my lap before seeing it was Jess.

  “Hello?”

  “Come on down. Prepare Roe. The fuckers were here when I came down. Caught the three of them. They’re sitting cuffed on your front lawn. Smashed all the pumpkins but that’s it.”

  “Oh my god,” I whispered. “Are you okay?”

  “Just fucking pissed,” he said.

  “Okay. Be there in a sec.”

  I twisted to the back, not at all sure how I was going to explain the concept of vandalism to a four-year-old girl and warn her about seeing handcuffed criminals on our front lawn.

  Rowen was inside watching a movie on the couch as I stepped outside, taking in the scene on my lawn.

  Jess was talking to his two deputies, Milo and a younger man I’d never met. The three vandals, dressed entirely in black, were sitting with their butts on the grass and hands cuffed behind their backs.

  Jess had met us at the car and immediately taken Roe from her seat and carried her inside, shielding her eyes from the trio of juvenile assholes and the broken remains of eleven pumpkins scattered on the grass. He had instructed me to get her settled and then come back out to make my official statement.

  The mood in Jess’s huddle was tense. Too tense, so I tried to lighten the air. Was I annoyed that these kids had made a mess? Sure. But it was just smashed pumpkins. We weren’t dealing with murderers here.

  “Well, good thing we had so many pumpkins, honey. It must have taken them quite a while to destroy them all. Saved me from having to clean up spray paint off my front door.”

  Jess’s jaw clenched tight. Milo and the other deputy coughed to cover their laughs, making him even angrier.

  Mental note. No joking when Jess was pissed.

  “Georgia, need you to give Milo a quick recap on the record,” Jess said.

  My summary was brief, having missed most of the action while I was sitting in the car. Milo asked a few questions and took a couple notes on his small spiral notepad. Then he and the other deputy said good night and started loading the vandals into cruisers.

  Two of the kids never once acknowledged me as they were escorted to the back of the police cars. Their gazes were firmly fixed on their shoes, their heads hanging down and their shoulders shamefully slumped.

  But as he was walking to the back of the police car, the third turned to me with a glare as cold as ice. One side of his mouth turned up in an evil snarl, causing my spine to shudder.

  This kid was absolutely the ringleader. I’d have bet my life on it. He looked at me like I was the one in the wrong. Like he was entitled and had every right to vandalize my property. Like I was to blame for his arrest and it was my fault that he’d gotten caught breaking the law.

  As he trudged toward the police car, he held my gaze. Right before he could be pushed inside,
he bent and spat on my lawn.

  “You’ll be sorry. Watch your back, bitch, because I’m going to make you pay for this. Shouldn’t have made a statement.”

  That pushed Jess over the edge. He stormed from my side and got right into the kid’s space, leaning down so far that the kid had to bend backward at his waist.

  “Don’t push me, kid. I’ll bury you. Think you can come to my house, trash it, then threaten my girl? If you ever so much as think about her or this place again, I’ll fucking end you.”

  The kid lost his attitude and had the good sense to look terrified, knowing full well that Jess would make good on his promise. Without giving him a chance to respond, Jess grabbed him by the back of the head and forced him into the car.

  My heart thundered and I stopped breathing, not starting again until the cruiser’s taillights had disappeared.

  Standing on my lawn, stunned, I barely registered Jess pulling me tightly into his side. My arms were crossed on my stomach and I was cold. The temperature had dropped and even with his body heat to keep me warm, I was shivering.

  It had started snowing while we were outside. Round, fat flakes floated down from the black sky above, resting lightly and peacefully where they landed. Any other night, I would have thought they were the loveliest snowflakes I’d ever seen.

  But not tonight.

  Not when I was surrounded by an ocean of broken pumpkins. Not when my daughter was locked inside my house to keep her safe. And not with that asshole kid’s threatening glare burned into my brain.

  I shivered again. And it had nothing to do with the snow.

  Halloween was tough. After a fitful night’s sleep, I had gotten up early to start picking up pumpkin rinds. Thankfully, it hadn’t snowed much and the broken bits hadn’t been frozen into the grass.

  I dropped off an exhausted Roe at Quail Hollow and went to work, glad to have a distraction from the drama. I let the patients and their issues consume my morning. I let them distract me from the worries swirling in my head.

  All I wanted was a peaceful and quiet life. Since moving to Prescott, I’d had more confrontation in a three-month period than I could have imagined possible.

  That was saying something, considering how much Nate, his parents and their attorneys had put me through.

  The seventh and eighth months of my pregnancy had been spent emailing lawyers and reading legal agreements. The Fletchers had been certain that I’d gotten pregnant on purpose to steal their fortune. Every night I had gone to bed stressed and anxious.

  But at the worst of it, I had always known it would eventually pass. That things would settle down. And it had. Once the paternity test results had been delivered, the legal attacks had stopped and Nate had signed his way out of Rowen’s life.

  But this was different.

  I didn’t see an end.

  Would our evening conversations always be spent discussing drug dealers? Would our lunch breaks be spent talking through an arson case?

  I was the sheriff’s girlfriend and would always be a target. People like Wes and these punk kids would always come at me or Rowen to toy with Jess.

  And he would always be a cop. It was who he was and I was proud to be by his side.

  But until last night, I hadn’t realized exactly how that would affect my life and Rowen’s.

  And I didn’t know if I was strong enough for it.

  He needed a woman who could stand by his side and prop him up on the bad days. I’d been doing my best but I wasn’t sure if it was enough. If I was strong enough for him.

  I couldn’t help but think that he could find someone better.

  By the end of the day, my head was pounding and my heart was troubled. But, somehow, I mustered the strength to set my worries aside and let Jess give me an update on the vandalism.

  The kids had vandalized six different homes, including the farmhouse. The worst one, a couple miles away from mine, had gotten the entire front of their house spray-painted with obscenities.

  “That’s horrible,” I said. “I feel so bad for those poor people that have to repaint their entire house. What kind of trouble will the kids get into?”

  “They’re all under eighteen so they’ll face misdemeanor charges as juveniles. Probably end up with a fine and some community service hours. Two of them confessed. Their parents will punish them far worse than the law ever could at that age. They’ll learn their lesson,” he said.

  “What about the third kid, he didn’t confess?”

  “Third was the little shit that threatened you. I don’t know him or his parents. They’re new in town. Built a monstrosity of a house up in the foothills. Haven’t seen them around town much. Usually when they’re here, they act like they’re too good for Prescott. The kid stayed quiet until his parents got to the station and demanded a lawyer. They just couldn’t believe their precious angel would do such a thing.”

  My eyes widened and my mouth fell open. “Is he going to get away with it?”

  “No. He’ll get punished. But with lawyers adding red tape, it’ll just take a while. There’s no way he gets away with it. Not after I caught him in the act.”

  “Well, I’m glad it’s over. Having the pumpkins gone will be good motivation for me to tear down Halloween decorations and put out the Thanksgiving stuff.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously, what?” I asked, confused.

  “Thanksgiving decorations?”

  “Well, yeah. I decorate for every holiday.”

  “What are we talking about here? Does Thanksgiving have more or less than Halloween?”

  “Thanksgiving, less. Christmas, you don’t want to know.”

  He stood to take his dishes to the kitchen sink, grumbling something under his breath I didn’t catch. But this time I was able to clearly make out the f-word.

  We followed the normal bedtime routine and once Roe was asleep, I went downstairs to find Jess on the couch, watching TV. I had wanted to talk to him about my conversation with his mother and her phone calls with Ben, but with all the drama, I had forgotten last night.

  “Honey?” I said, taking a sideways seat on the couch.

  “Yeah?”

  “So, last night, your mom said a few things to me that were, well, random.”

  “That’s her. What’d she say?”

  “Well . . . first she told me I was a good mom, which was sweet of her to say,” I said.

  “You are. A great mom.”

  “Thanks.” I blushed a little and couldn’t help but smile. I knew I was a good mom but Jess saying it with such confidence and conviction made my heart swell with pride.

  “Anyway, she started telling me about Ben. How he gave you this house. That it’s your pride and joy and—”

  Jess jumped from the couch, and using all of the strength he had in one arm, threw the remote at one of the big chairs. If not for the thick cushions, the remote would have shattered. He tipped his head down to me with angry eyes.

  “Fucking not this again.”

  “Wh—”

  “What do I have to do, Georgia? Huh? What do I have to do to convince you that I don’t want this fucking house?” he yelled.

  “Jess—”

  “Sell it.”

  “What?” I asked, breathless.

  “Sell it. Call the realtor tomorrow. You and Roe will move in with me this weekend.”

  “Sell the farmhouse?”

  “As far as I can tell, selling this place is gonna be the only thing I can do to show you that I want you. Not this,” he said, throwing a hand up in the air.

  I stood from the couch and approached him with gentle hands. “Honey—” I started but was stopped when he interrupted me. Again.

  “I mean it, Georgia. I’m done fighting with you about this. And if selling this place is what it takes, then we’re doing it. Jesus. It’s just a fucking house!”

  Jackass Jess was making an appearance. Not only was he letting his temper get the best of him, but he wasn’t listeni
ng to me. And I’d had enough. I was sick of him talking over me. Always getting his way.

  Not this time.

  “Stop.” I shoved my palm in his face.

  He didn’t like that much. His eyes got bigger and his face turned red.

  But before he could open his mouth, I said, “I wasn’t talking about the house, Jess. Something you would have known if you hadn’t effing interrupted me a hundred times. I know you’re not with me for the house. I get it. What I was going to tell you was that your mom was telling me about Ben. And that Ben had been calling her for years. I wanted to know if you knew that. Okay? That’s what I was going to tell you.”

  His anger evaporated and he raised his arms to touch my shoulders but I shrugged them off.

  “Georg—”

  “No,” I said. “You don’t get to sweet talk your way out of this. You messed up, Jess. Don’t. Yell. At. Me. Watch that temper and quit ordering me around. I get that you’re in charge most of the time, but you don’t get to fly off the handle here. I won’t be yelled at. I won’t be told what to do. I’ve had enough of that from other men and I won’t take it from you.”

  And with that, I stormed upstairs.

  I immediately went into the bathroom where I started ranting to myself.

  “That man makes me so effing mad! I just wanted to talk to him about his mother. His mother. But no. He jumps to conclusions and yells at me. That’s how it always goes. And then I get so mad I am forced to yell back. I don’t like the yelling. I’m tired of the yelling! I’m tired of being pushed around!”

  Jess had just lost our argument and I wondered how he would react. Our last shouting match, the one after he’d yelled at Rowen, had left us not speaking for almost a week. What was I in store for tonight?

  I heard the bedroom door close and seven seconds later, the bathroom door opened.

  Pressing against my back, Jess wrapped me up and puffed out a loud breath.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  That was unexpected. I’d been ready for him to be all nice and sweet. To kiss me so that I’d give in and he’d get his way. Instead, he’d owned his mistake. I was impressed.

  “I don’t want to fight, Georgia,” he said, bending to whisper in my ear.