The Coppersmith Farmhouse

by Devney Perry

  Walking up the stairs, I heard Rowen bossing Ben.

  “No, Benny! That’s Daddy’s socket wrench. You can’t have it. Here, you can have this one from your own toolbox,” she said.

  “Maisy’s here, honey, so I’m going to take Benny into the house so he can play with Coby.”

  “Okay, I want to finish hanging this sheet of drywall, then I’ll come in,” he said.

  Bending down to pick up baby Ben, I hefted him up on my hip. He was the perfect mix of me and Jess. He had my hair, which was currently streaked with drywall dust, and my freckles. But he had gotten his dad’s ice-blue eyes and he was going to be big like Jess. Not quite one year old, and he already weighed enough that I couldn’t carry him around for too long.

  “Rowen, do you want to come in?” I asked.

  “Can I stay with Daddy?” Not only did she have drywall dust in her hair but it was also covering her arms and face.

  “Sure, baby girl,” I said and blew her a kiss.

  Rowen had become a daddy’s girl. Wherever Jess went, Rowen was not far behind. And shortly after we’d gotten married, he had legally adopted her. For weeks, she had insisted on us calling her by her full name, Rowen Grace Cleary.

  Walking back to the house, I took advantage of my minute alone with Ben and relentlessly kissed his chubby cheeks. Once we got inside, he would immediately lose interest in his mother in favor of toys and his little friend.

  Maisy and Coby were over for dinner, something we tried to do at least one Sunday every month. It gave the boys, who were only four months apart, a chance to play together and Maisy and me a chance to gossip.

  Maisy had had a rough time those first few months after the hospital incident, but her parents had urged her to start seeing a therapist and that seemed to help her deal with not only Everett’s kidnapping, but also the fact that she had killed him.

  One night, right before Jess and I were married, she had come to the farmhouse to talk. It was the first time we’d been face-to-face since the night at the hospital.

  She had asked me if I thought there was anything else she could have done, some other way to incapacitate Everett, a way to change the outcome. I had answered her honestly. Everett was crazy. He never would have stopped until he had succeeded in killing us. I was sure of it.

  Our friendship had grown since that night, and though I had made a lot of new friends in the short time we had been living in Prescott, Maisy was my closest. My best friend and confidant. She was also the maid of honor at my wedding.

  Jess and I had gotten married shortly after the incident at the hospital. We had a simple ceremony at church and then catered a dinner for family and friends at the farmhouse.

  Felicity had come back to Prescott for the wedding, and with both of her children close, Noelle was the happiest I had ever seen her. Silas had been Jess’s best man, both wearing simple black suits. Rowen and Maisy had stood next to me in lavender chiffon dresses.

  My gown had been simple white with a bit of a Grecian flair. I’d worn Jess’s diamonds and my hair had been pulled back in a bunch of intricate knots and twists.

  Our wedding was simple, but perfect. Rowen and I walked hand in hand down the aisle to Jess where we said our vows.

  My favorite picture of our wedding day was framed and hanging on the wall between the living room and dining room. Rowen was in profile, kissing Jess’s cheek. I was looking up at them and laughing. And Jess, with one arm around my shoulders, was looking at the camera with a huge smile on his face. Whenever I looked at that picture, which was a lot, a warm wave of happy washed through me.

  I situated Ben with Coby so they could play with blocks and sank into the couch next to Maisy.

  “So in case you didn’t know, your sister-in-law is a bitch,” Maisy said.

  I laughed. “I’ve seen her in action, remember? What happened?”

  “Silas came over to the motel today because he was helping me fix a broken sink. When he finished, we were visiting at the reception desk. She pulls up in her fancy car and gets out, heading to her room. But then she glances over and stops dead in her tracks when she sees Silas with me. I swear, Gigi, if she could have turned green, she would have. She must think there’s something going on with me and Silas. She gave me the bitchiest look I have ever seen on any woman’s face. Ever. Well . . . except for Andrea Merkuso. She’s a bigger bitch. But Felicity ranks not too far behind.”

  “There’s something between those two, Silas and Felicity. I’m sure of it,” I said.

  “Ha! Well then you’ll love this next part. He doesn’t know I saw him, but last night, Silas went into her room around eleven and came out after midnight. Coby wasn’t sleeping so I was doing some paperwork in the office.”

  “No way!” I yelled, bouncing up on the couch. “I knew it!”

  “Yep.” Maisy grinned.

  “I love that you own the motel. You have the best gossip.”

  After the attack, Maisy never did come back to the hospital. Not once. Not even to have Coby. When she’d started going into labor, Beau had driven her over to a hospital in Bozeman. And anytime Cody needed a checkup or was sick, she’d either drive him to Bozeman or ask Dr. Seavers to make a house call.

  Maisy had overcome a lot when it came to Everett. Her strength and resilience were inspiring. Coby was the spitting image of his father, but it never shook her. Every day, she ignored the resemblance and only saw her beautiful baby boy. So if giving up her nursing career was something that she needed to do to live a happier life with her son, I was all for it. Though I did miss working with her.

  Her position at the hospital had been filled by a nurse from the burn unit in Spokane that had treated Milo after the explosion. Her name was Sara and she was a kind and shy young girl. Perfect for Milo. They had fallen in love while he was there and the day he had come back to Prescott, she had come with him.

  After she’d quit her job at the hospital, Maisy had taken over management of the Fan Mountain Inn, Prescott’s one and only motel. The owners had been on the cusp of retiring and looking to spend more time traveling. Four months ago, they’d made her a hell of a deal to purchase the motel.

  “So what else is happening at the motel? Any hot photographers come by?” I asked, giving her a smirk and raising my eyebrows.

  She giggled and we gossiped while our boys played together on the floor.

  I loved these Sundays with my family and my friends at the farmhouse. Even though it had a rough start, this new life that Rowen and I had risked living in Prescott was a dream come true.

  I would never get the chance to tell Ben how much his farmhouse changed my life. But I hoped that when I went to visit him, buried next to his Claire, that he could hear me from above.

  Jess and I were lying upstairs in bed. The kids were both asleep downstairs.

  He had just made me come twice, once with his mouth and then again with his cock, and I was on my back, trying to catch my breath.

  My husband was hot. So effing hot and I couldn’t get enough of him. He knew my body inside and out and he used that knowledge as often as possible to make me moan his name. Something that he thought was effing hot.

  “Fuck, baby. That was intense.”

  “Hmm . . . it’s all those hormones,” I said, grinning.

  He rolled over on his side and propped himself up on an elbow.

  “Hormones?” he asked.

  My grin turned into a smile. “If it’s a girl, can we name her after my mom?”

  The light danced in his eyes. Ice blue. I loved his eyes. I couldn’t get enough of them either.

  In usual Jess style, he didn’t answer my question. Instead, he slammed his mouth down onto mine. It took me all of two point five seconds to get way turned on, beyond turned on, and we started at it again.

  I was taking his kiss as a yes to my earlier question.

  Bliss.

  Like I had done every night of our married life, I fell asleep tucked into Jess’s side but not before I whisp
ered, “Love you, honey,” into his chest.

  And just like he had done every night of our married life, he whispered back, “Love you, Freckles.”

  Eight months later, Adeline Claire Cleary was born.

  Thank you, Bill, for believing in me, for always supporting my ever-changing dreams and making sure I never lost faith in myself. To my beta-readers and amazing friends Chandra and Kaitlyn. To Sarah Hansen for your creative genius. To Julie Deaton and Stacey Blake for your polish. And a million thanks to my unbelievable editor, Elizabeth Nover. Your advice and guidance were priceless.

  Devney lives in Montana with her husband and two children. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her kids. She loves reading and, after consuming hundreds of books, decided to share her own stories.

  www.devneyperry.com

  Facebook

  Instagram

  Twitter