“So, is it stall cleaning time now?” she asked.
Joy shook her head and waved them to follow her toward the house. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Grandpa has a guy that comes and cleans three times a week. I met him the other day and he was kind of a jerk, so I have no problem leaving them for him.”
“Who is it?” Tara asked.
“Logan Walsh?”
“Don’t know him.”
“I guess he’s got a farm not far from here, but I don’t remember him from when I grew up around here. He must’ve been a couple years ahead of us in school. You’d think he’d have enough to do at his own place; I don’t know why Gramps didn’t hire some high school kid instead.”
“You know, I know that name,” Jenny said as they reached the spacious patio. “Marv was talking at the coffee shop about him just the other day. He said the Walsh brothers got a six month foreclosure notice from the bank.”
Joy paused on her way inside. “Seriously?”
She nodded.
“Great, now I feel bad.” The redhead heaved out a sigh, then pointed them to some patio chairs in the sun while opening the door. “Grandma left some lemonade in the fridge before they went to town. I’ll be right back out.”
Before the door swung shut, a couple of soft snuffles preceded Sweet Pea’s exit from the house. Jenny scratched the pot-bellied pig behind the ears as she and Tara chatted about the horses until Joy came back. Upon hearing their topic of conversation, Joy asked if they’d like to come over again. Even though her butt hurt and her inner thigh muscles had protested every step she took between the barn and the house, Jenny didn’t hesitate to say yes.
After they set the date for next Saturday, Tara took a sip from her glass. “I wonder what Wes will say when I tell him I want to change our house hunting criteria.”
“Let me guess...you’re going to need more land,” Joy teased.
“Yep. I didn’t realize how much I missed riding until today, and now we’re going to need room for a barn. And pastures. I see at least two horses in my future—after the wedding of course.”
Joy stretched her legs out under the table. “How’s that coming along? Everything ready?”
“Almost. Except our original photographer cancelled, and now anyone who’s decent is already booked.”
Jenny thought of her camera in the barn. Her stomach did a little flip.
“We’re on a few waiting lists, but no luck so far,” Tara continued. “With the wedding less than a month away, Wes and I are both trying not to freak out. Well, me more than Wes.”
The other two women kept talking as Jenny fought an inner debate. She had photos of residents from around town in her apartment. Photos that, of course, would never be sold at Carrie’s, but the subjects had spoken to her at the time she’d looked through her camera lens. Someday she’d planned to give them to people, when her passion was no longer a secret. The nervous flutter in her stomach intensified at the possibility that today could be someday.
But why not? The divorce was final, and like she’d told Roy the other day, she no longer had to listen to him—in person, or in her head. In her heart, she believed she had talent and that’s what mattered. Not to mention, Grant had been impressed, and they were selling at the coffee shop...
“Tara...I might be able to help with your photographer dilemma.”
Her attention whipped around so fast, her long, black hair spilled over her opposite shoulder. “Really? Do you know someone?”
“Um...you know those photographs Carrie’s been selling at the shop?”
“Ooh, I love those,” Joy exclaimed.
“Me, too, but Carrie said the photographer won’t—” Tara sat forward all of a sudden. “Wait, do you know him?”
“Her.” Jenny took a deep breath. “And you’re looking at her.”
Jenny’s heart pounded as Tara and Joy stared at her in surprise.
“Those are yours?” Tara frowned. “But...they’re amazing. Why didn’t you want anyone to know?”
She gave the women a brief smile. “How about we skip that therapy session for now and focus on your wedding. I have other pictures at my place, of people, if you’d like me to put something together for you and Wes to look at?”
“Yes, please, that would be great.”
Jenny was hit by a wave of relief. Excitement immediately followed. This could be a chance to really cement her independence and begin an actual career doing something she loved.
Tara grinned at the both of them. “This might even soften the blow about the horses.”
Joy waved her hand as if to shoo away that comment. “From the little I saw of you two together, you’ve got that man wrapped around your little finger. He’d do anything for you.”
“You’re right, he would.” Hand on the table next to her lemonade glass, Tara wiggled the fingers of her left hand, and they all admired the sparkle of her princess cut engagement ring in the late afternoon sun. “But it goes both ways. It was my lucky day when Sugar picked Wes out of the crowd.”
“Someday,” Joy said with a wistful sigh. “Someday I’ll quit crying to the horses and be able to say that same thing.”
As Grant’s face materialized in her mind’s eye, Jenny silently echoed their sentiments.
Chapter 10
Grant parked by the barn at about quarter after five. He headed inside, toward the sound of female voices and laughter. Seeing Joy and Tara striking a pose on some hay bales while Jenny snapped pictures with her camera brought him up short. Tara glanced in his direction, but she didn’t say anything. Jenny continued to take pictures of her and the cute, freckled redhead.
He leaned a shoulder against the door, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched. Jenny was completely engrossed, working the camera like a pro as she adjusted the lens and other settings. Tara whispered something, and Joy threw a handful of hay at her. Amidst the giggles, Tara held up a hand.
“Alright, enough.” She pulled a piece of hay from the front of her shirt. “Wes is going to wonder what I’ve been up to, and besides, Grant’s back.”
He straightened as Jenny swung around in surprise.
“I didn’t even hear you pull up.”
“When I said I might catch you in action, I wasn’t thinking this.”
Her smile held a tinge of self-consciousness as she lifted the camera. “I told them.”
“I figured.”
Tara stood up, brushing more hay from her jeans. “You mean he knows?”
“She had an issue with a closet door, and I saw her darkroom,” Grant explained as Jenny moved over to where she’d set her bag. “When I saw the photographs at the coffee shop and found out she worked there, I put two and two together.”
“Good looking and smart,” Joy quipped on her way past. “Keep an eye on this one, Jen.”
A pink tinge colored Jenny’s cheeks as she packed her camera away. “Tara, I’ll get these developed and then call you when I have everything together.”
“Sounds good.” Tara gave a wave on her way out. “See you both next week Saturday.”
Jenny picked up her bag and joined Grant and Joy by the barn entrance. “This was so much fun. You’re next Coffee to Chai For is on me.”
“You don’t have to do that, I’m glad to have help exercising the horses. Give me a call if you want to come out sooner than Saturday. Oh, and you might want to soak in the tub tonight—you’re going to be a little sore for a day or two.”
Jenny grinned. “Already on my agenda.”
Grant walked with Jenny to his car, wondering what else was on her agenda for the evening. He’d run some errands in Green Bay and picked up a little something, just in case. Not that he had an agenda, but after that earlier kiss, he had to agree with the Boy Scout motto: be prepared.
Jenny told him all about the afternoon on their drive back. Grant enjoyed listening to her enthusiasm, thinking she deserved every bit of joy she could find after what Roy had put her through. And it wasn’t jus
t the horses. Telling Tara and Joy about her photography seemed to have given her a sense of freedom that animated her voice and brought a sparkle to her eyes.
On their walk inside the apartment building, however, she gave a low moan. “Oh, man, Joy was right. I’m so sore I can’t wait to get in the tub.”
Grant pictured her slim form stepping into a mound of bubbles and had to suppress his own groan. He walked her up the stairs and down the hall with its brand new lights. He’d never figured out who’d vandalized the place, and with no other incidents in the past week, he still wondered what the hell that had been about.
“Thank you for the ride.”
She turned to face him at her door. At first, Grant anticipated a kiss. On the verge of leaning in, it dawned on him the closed door meant she wasn’t prepared to invite him in. Not to mention, she stared at his chest as her fingers curled tight on the straps of the canvas bag slung over her shoulder.
Disappointment left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he understood, and refused to push no matter how much he wanted to. He’d realized this afternoon his feelings for her had leapfrogged friendship the same day he’d fixed her closet, yet it was so much more than physical attraction. He cared for and respected her too much to rush her into something she clearly wasn’t ready for.
“I’m exhausted after getting up so early this morning,” he told her. “Think I’ll watch a little TV and hit the sack early.”
Her gaze rose to his, her relief confirming she knew exactly what he was doing and appreciated the gesture. Careful not to startle her, he lifted his hand to brush his knuckles across her cheek. Her skin was so soft, he wanted to continue the caress instead of returning his hand to his side.
“Enjoy your bath and get a good night’s sleep.”
“You, too.”
Fat chance of that, he thought as he walked away.
His foot hit the third stair when Jenny’s scream rang out. He spun around so fast he tripped at the top before righting himself to race down the hall, heart pounding impossibly fast in his chest.
Jenny met him halfway, rushing headlong into his arms as her breath caught on a sob. He hugged her tight, gaze trained on her open door. “What’s the matter?”
She sucked in a breath, her body trembling against his. “S-someone was in there.”
Alarm doubled. “Are they still there?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s trashed. E-everything. It’s a complete m-mess.”
Grant kept his arm around her as they walked toward her apartment. The door across from hers opened, and Mr. Edwards stuck his head out. Grant had made it a point to check-in and introduce himself to each tenant, and he’d met the older gentleman yesterday.
“What’s all the ruckus about?”
“Someone broke into Jenny’s apartment, Mr. Edwards. Did you hear anything?”
“No, I had the television on. I only heard her now because I was about to take Seymour out for a walk.”
A little, copper-colored dachshund danced through the opening and barked a few times at them before tugging on his leash toward the stairs.
Grant turned to Jenny, who still clutched her bag. “Call 911 and get the cops over here. I’m going to make sure no one is still in there.”
A shudder shook her shoulders. “Be careful.”
Grant cast the impatient dog a glance before lifting his gaze to Mr. Edwards. “Can you stay with Jenny until I come back out?”
“Seymour might mess in the hall,” Mr. Edwards warned.
“That’s the least of my concerns,” Grant muttered before stepping through Jenny’s door.
She was right, the place was totaled. It was a studio apartment, so it didn’t take long to search behind the door, in the closet, and the bathroom and determine the intruder was long gone. As he surveyed the extensive damage, fear that Jenny could’ve been there at the time of the break-in gave way to boiling anger.
A noise behind him spun him around to see Jenny hovering inside the entry. Phone in hand, she gestured toward the hall.
“Seymour couldn’t wait and the police are on the way. Did you find anything?”
“Whoever it was, they’re long gone.”
“I figured you wouldn’t find him.”
“Him?” Grant frowned, and yet he suspected he knew exactly who she meant.
“Roy.” Her gaze tracked over shattered dishes, upended couch cushions, overturned chairs, and a tipped over book case. The books were ripped to shreds, cushions slit, clothes torn and cut into pieces so they were no longer wearable. Her closet darkroom was torn apart, photo paper destroyed and developing bins broken. Tears filled her eyes. “All my photography supplies are ruined. The pictures I was going to show Tara and Wes…I can’t even develop the ones I took today.”
“You’re sure it was Roy?”
Moisture spilled over her lashes onto her cheeks. Her expression tightened and she dashed the tears away with an angry swipe of her hand. “Who else would do this?”
The feeling from the other day, that she wasn’t telling him everything, resurfaced. He held out his hands, palms up. “Why, Jenny? The divorce is final, so why would he destroy pretty much everything you own now?”
“Because he’s that much of a vindictive bastard.”
“I believe you on that one, but there’s still more to it, isn’t there?”
Her gaze flew to his, eyes widening in surprise.
“This is a message.”
She folded one arm across her stomach, bracing her elbow on that arm as she covered her mouth as if to keep the answer inside. Grant stepped over the broken items between them, but she turned her back to him. Her muscles tensed under the weight of his hands on her shoulders.
“What does he want?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His fingers tightened ever so slightly, letting her know he didn’t believe her. Giving her the chance to tell him the truth. “You told Charlie you trusted me.”
“I do.”
“Then tell me what Roy wants.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “Not yet. I need some time to think about everything.”
His gut tightened. Damn, what the hell is going on?
Movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention to the door. Sheriff Chase Lowell entered, along with another uniformed officer. As their gazes took in the destruction, he recognized the guy who’d met with the sheriff in Hutch’s last week.
Grant leaned forward, pressing his lips close to Jenny’s ear. “I suggest you think fast.”
Then he stepped around her to intercept the officers.
“Thanks for getting here so fast.”
“We were in the area.” Lowell motioned to his partner. “This is Officer Mike Donovan.”
Grant nodded to the guy who looked like he could model for one of those Katelynn Meadows book covers. He couldn’t help it, he snuck a glance to gauge Jenny’s interest in either of the men. Her gaze locked with Grant’s. Unfortunately, the troubled shadows in her eyes didn’t allow him to kid himself that she watched him for any other reason than she worried about his warning. Not that he could say anything to Chase and his partner—he didn’t know anything, damn it.
“So, tell me what happened here,” Chase requested.
Between him and Jenny, they gave the police a timeline of when they’d left and returned to discover the break-in.
Chase sent Donovan to question the neighbors, see if they’d heard anything, and then he asked Jenny, “I know it’s a little hard to tell with everything tossed around like this, but did you notice anything missing? Was anything of value taken?”
“There was nothing here worth anything,” she pointed out. “I don’t own a computer, and as you can see, they didn’t even want my TV.”
Grant looked at the smashed screen of her old box-style television set just before a loud gasp drew their attention to the door.
Nadine Hansen entered the apartment, her eyes wide as sh
e took in the chaos. “What the heck happened here?” she exclaimed. “Jenny, are you okay?”
Jenny went to talk to the blond woman, and Grant gestured Chase to the side with a jerk of his head.
“There was an incident this past Monday. All the lights were busted on this floor of the building.”
“Broken on purpose?” Chase asked with a frown.
“Yeah. I never reported it because I thought at first it was some kids in the building and just replaced the bulbs. Now, I’m thinking there’s more to it, that both the lights and the break-in happening on this floor are more than a coincidence.”
“Do you think someone is targeting you, or Jenny?”
Grant’s glance at Jenny was answer enough for the sheriff.
“Don’t suppose you have a suspect in mind?”
“Roy Adams.”
Chase considered for a moment before sighing. “As much as I don’t like the guy, I can’t make assumptions without any evidence.”
“Least you can do is check his alibi,” Grant argued.
“I’d already planned to. But I gotta tell you, this would be pretty ballsy for Roy. He’s kept a low profile since his run-in with Charlie last summer.”
“Look around, man. This was personal, and who else but Roy? He tried to force her into his car the other day at the courthouse.”
“Yeah, Charlie called me. Any idea why she didn’t report the incident?”
“Nope. How come she never pressed charges against the scumbag when he beat her? Your guess is as good as mine.”
Chase held up a hand at Grant’s exasperation. “Alright, calm down. You let us do our job and we’ll catch him. Whoever it is.”
He clenched his jaw, shifting his gaze to where Jenny and Nadine stood, now talking with Officer Donovan.
“In the meantime, don’t go doing anything stupid,” Chase said firmly. “That won’t help anyone—especially Jenny. We’ll keep up the extra patrols in the neighborhood and—”
“Lot of good that did.”
“— you keep an eye out. You might also consider installing a secure entrance for the building. Never thought I’d have to suggest something like that in Redemption,” he added as they joined the others.
Hold On To Me (Welcome To Redemption) Page 10
