Van Winkle’s gaze wandered to the charred remains of the vegetable stand. “Looks like you had a fire. A pity, after Conner fixed it up all nice, new paint and all. Wonder how that happened. Course, it’s been mighty dry lately. Fires can start any old way when things is so dry.” He looked around at the house and other buildings. “Yup, fires can start real easy, dry as it's been.”
Romeo took a few steps toward him looking up curiously.
“As dry as it is, could even have a fire in the orchards. I’ve known such to happen, lightning strike, or somebody careless with matches. Any old thing can get a fire started.”
The kitten, pacing back and forth, caught his attention. “That your cat?” he said, pointing at Romeo.
“Yes, what of it? What do you want here anyway?” Vicky closed the mailbox, and took a step backwards, clutching the mail to her chest.
Van Winkle didn’t answer, but instead, reached out one boot and hooked it under Romeo’s belly. He kicked upwards tossing the cat, screeching in terror, into the air. As cats always do, he landed on his feet, hit the ground running, and headed back for the porch.
A ripple of fury washed over her. As frightened as she was, she still managed to summon her courage. She found her voice, “You’re a nasty piece of shit Van Winkle! How dare you kick that poor little cat? He didn’t do anything to you.” This sounded feeble in her own ears, so without thinking she stepped forward and kicked the man in his shin.
Van Winkle unfazed by her gesture stared at her for a long moment, a malicious grin spreading over his face. She shivered involuntarily with fear, wishing she wasn’t alone. Oh my god. Where the hell is Jack? I should have kicked that bastard harder.
Jonathan paused, climbing back up into his truck and spoke once more. “The offer still stands. When I own this place, you can stay if you want to live in that house there, but you’ll do whatever I tell you." The door slammed shut, engine started and he rattled off down the road.
Trembling with fear and anger she stood still for a moment. Finally, she turned back to the house, firmly clutching the mail, tears of rage stinging her eyes.
After depositing another bushel of green beans in the barn, Jack mounted the stairs to his apartment. He shucked off his shirt, enjoying the cool air shooting into the room from his window AC unit. Glancing at his computer, he stopped, remembering the security cameras. Out of curiosity, he leaned over, maneuvered the mouse to open the security program, and saw the back yard come into view. Cycling through the channels, he saw the sides and then brought up the view of the front of the farmhouse.
He stared at the screen when he saw Jonathan Van Winkle’s truck parked on the road. Jack had brought up the view of the front just in time to see the man kick Romeo into the air. Then Vicky kicked Jonathan. “That no good bastard!” he growled. Launching himself from the computer, he was out the door and racing down the stairs.
He took off running. Rounding the corner of the house, he saw Victoria in the middle of the yard. He ran to her and encircled her in his arms. Holding her close he stroked her hair comforting her as her tears came. Angrily he looked at the bend in the road where Van Winkle’s truck had just disappeared.
“One minute sooner and I could have been here in time. Are you all right Victoria?”
She sniffed. “I think so.”
He led her, one arm around her shoulders up onto the porch. Romeo was cautiously peeking wide-eyed, out from under a chair.
“Is Romeo all right?” she asked.
“He seems fine, don’t you boy,” Jack said, stroking the smooth fur. “I got down here as soon as I could Victoria. Just wish it’d been one minute sooner.”
She looked up at him. “How did you know Jonathan was here?”
“I saw his truck. Now sit and relax. Give me the mail. I’ll put it down inside. Can I get you something?”
“No, I’m okay.” She looked at him and then sprang into his arms once more. “I don’t need anything, just you. I just need you. When that awful man was being so vicious and he kicked poor Romeo all I could think was that I needed you there.”
Vicky held him to her, realizing for the first time that she was pressing her face into his bare chest. She didn’t pull away, but held onto him for a long time as he stroked her hair. Neither of them spoke but when she finally lifted her head, he bent and softly kissed her.
* * *
Vicky went inside when there was a lull between customers on the porch. Marsha took a paper bag from the stack and began filling it with vegetables from Jack’s bushel baskets.
“I’m going to take some cucumbers and lettuce back home with me, Jack. I don’t really cook much, but I can make a salad.”
“Help yourself to anything Marsha.”
She brought her bag to Jack and set it down, looking at him directly. Turning she glanced over her shoulder at the screen door. They were still alone. Marsha smiled at him.
“You know don’t you?” she asked softly.
He nodded, grinning. “Yes I know she’s Tori Baxter. I’ll bet you’re her agent, or her editor or something. Am I right?”
Marsha nodded. “I’m her agent. Will you keep it to yourself? Vicky would really appreciate that.”
“Marsha, I’ll do anything Victoria wants. I feel we’ve got a special relationship, you know what I mean?”
“Bullshit Jack! You’re madly in love with her. Admit it.”
“Okay okay, I admit it. I love her like crazy. Does it show that much?”
“All you men are so slow when it comes to love. Sometimes I don’t know why we put up with it. Then I remember exactly why.” She laughed. “Vicky needs you more than ever Jack. After that business with the Van Winkle guy this morning, she is totally freaked out. The way he kept talking about how easy fires get started, it has her scared half to death. Why don’t you come over here nights, instead of sleeping in your place over the garage? She’ll feel safer.”
“I already thought of that. Don’t want her to think I’m just trying to climb into bed with her though. I’ll stay in one of the front rooms.” He almost told her about the security cameras, then thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut.
Marsha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Wouldn’t want her to think you were trying to climb into her bed. That’s funny Jack. We all know you’d love to do just that.” She looked once more over her shoulder at the front door.
“Here’s a news flash Jack. Vicky’s wondering why you aren’t making any move at all. She has some crazy idea you don’t really like her much. Maybe you could talk her out of that. So, how much do I owe you for the vegetables.”
“Not a cent,” he said. “Consider them payment for the good advice.”
A car pulled into the driveway and another customer came up onto the porch. Vicky returned and sat down by Marsha.
“I better get going, Vick. I’m stopping at Joe’s place, but then I’ve got to get home.”
“You’re going to see Joe’s house?” Jack asked surprised. Diane told me he’s never invited a girl there before.”
“I’m only going to see all the restorations.”
“Right, going to see the restorations,” said Vicky with a sly grin.
* * *
Jonathan Van Winkle retrieved his mail from the box on the road and was pleased to see an envelope from his lawyer in Albany. Here we go. This has to be it. Now I got that son-of-a-bitch, Conner, by the shorthairs. Can’t wait to see the look on his face when I kick him off the farm.
Standing in his kitchen, he eagerly tore open the envelope and read the contents. Scowling, he read everything over once more, swore, and hurled the lawyer’s letter onto the table. Removing a beer from his refrigerator, he sat brooding and thinking. Later that night and several beers later, Jonathan still sat rocking steadily on his back porch, continuing to brood and plot in the darkness.
* * *
A smiling Joe met Marsha as she braked in front of his house. Leaning into her car he said, “Pull into the drive, I�
��ll show you the garage first.”
She drove down his drive and he motioned her into an old-fashioned carriage house he had converted into a three-car garage.
Joe opened the car door for her and she stepped out, looking around her in amazement. “This is the most beautiful garage ever! It’s so clean!”
“Well, the upstairs is my office, so I want to make a good impression on my clients.”
“Clients? I thought you managed the family nursery?”
“Sure, but my real passion is Landscape Architecture. I got my degree at Cornell, in Ithaca. I needed a place to see clients, so I finished the carriage house first.”
“Joe, this is totally awesome!”
He led her outside and pressed the keypad to close the door. “I want you to see these garage doors. They are true to the era when the place was built. Landscaping should always include appropriate detail on the exterior of the home or other buildings.”
He took her inside and showed her all his work in progress. In the rooms that weren’t finished he told her of his plans for paint colors and furniture. She admired the period style kitchen and first floor lavatory that were completely remodeled. At last, he took her upstairs to the master bedroom suite. Marsha admired the antique furniture he’d acquired and the big Jacuzzi soaking tub in the master bathroom.
“This is amazing! Joe, you are incredible.” Marsha turned in the room, trying to take it all in.
“This room extends partly over the back porch, so I was able to incorporate the skylight directly over the bed.”
She looked up at the blue sky, then down at the big sleigh bed and swallowed.
“Marsha?” he said so softly that she almost couldn’t hear. The heated look that burned in his intense gaze was much easier to detect.
She admired everything so much, that she stayed with Joe, in his Victorian house, until Wednesday morning. When they finally tore themselves from one final embrace, Marsha left exhausted, for her home in New York City.
Chapter 24
The undersides of clouds to the west were stained a vibrant purple hue above the vanishing sun. Darkening skies in the east were an angry amber Gwendolyn had never witnessed before. She had no notion what the colors signified, but it frightened her. The sea had an odd chop with the white capped waves slapping backhanded at one another as the little ship rose and fell.
“There’s dirty weather on the way,” called Jack Fletcher. “We’ve ample time to reach the island that I hope will be our temporary refuge, but the greater menace follows us, and I fear it more than the tempest.”
He turned his gaze and pointed back over their wake that parted a sea the color of rich burgundy.
She turned as well to see a white sail dancing on the horizon. “The pirates?” she asked.
Jack nodded. “With luck we will outrun them.”
Their little schooner shot over the waves, rising to meet the swells, manned by a dozen of Captain Jack’s most trusted men.
Fletcher gave the wheel a nudge to port and looked aloft at the spreading canvas. Turning his fierce countenance on her once more, he broke into a broad grin.
“As I said, Peter Dewitt and I are half brothers. My early years were spent on that island plantation. Then I took it into my head to go to sea. Though I often returned to these waters, I have journeyed far and wide. Nearly a year ago I was captured by the pirates.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “We could choose to join their number or walk the plank to a watery grave. I chose the former.”
“How terrible it must have been!” She trembled at the thought.
“Gradually I gained their trust, and became a leader among them. Little did they know that I was a Trojan horse in their midst.” He laughed softly, dark eyes flashing as he gathered her close to him. “I was in secret communication with my brother, Peter, and he with the English Navy. The English have now done for most of the pirate bands, but apparently not all. Our little play-acting when Peter took you from me at gunpoint was for the benefit of the pirates. I beg you to accept my apology and that of my brother as well, for deceiving you as part of our ruse.”
He looked aft in the fading light to gage their lead on the pirate ship. “If those fellows behind us have a notion ‘twas I who betrayed them, they will be after my hide. My dear Gwendolyn, we shall outrun their dastardly band with this sturdy little bark of Peter’s and reach a sheltered cove on the island just ahead, never fear.”
He surveyed again the open sea and glanced up at the billowing sails. Alarmed at the threats confronting them, she shuddered with fear, despite Jack’s conviction. She watched as he manned the helm, brawny arms expertly steadying the wheel. Barking orders above the buffeting wind to his crewmen, he kept a constant eye on the sails, the deteriorating weather, and the ship far to their stern. Ahead, past the bowsprit, could just be seen the inverted green bowl of an island on the azure sea.
Jacks dark eyes smiled down at her. Summoning her courage, she returned his gaze. His strength and determination were a comfort to her and quieted her fears as she held firmly to the rail by his side. She smiled bravely, red hair flowing in the wind and eyes the color of the sea.
From "Caribbean Fire", by Tori Baxter.
* * *
Victoria sighed, closed the file, and opened Tori Baxter’s web site. She scrolled down through some fan mail, mostly about Rendezvous Romance, and smiled with satisfaction. The book was doing very well.
There was an email from Marsha asking about the status of Caribbean Fire, but what she really wanted was to ask her about Joe Vandersmoot. He certainly forgot about me in a hurry when Marsha arrived. Who would have thought that those two would have hit it off, and so quickly? Go figure. It would be nice if they got together. At least Joe and Jack are getting along a lot better since Marsha’s visit.
Her thoughts turned to Jack. He'd been very attentive lately. Marsha thought he had feelings for her and she was usually was right about men.
Jack had been spending his nights in the farmhouse for a couple of weeks now, sleeping alone in one of the front bedrooms. After her confrontation with Jonathan Van Winkle, he’d insisted on staying with her. He made a point of kissing her before going to work early and every night before heading for bed. "Restrained" was the best way to describe him. She wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered by this restraint, or furious.
There was no longer any doubt that she was in love with him. Their one day of lovemaking was a bright searing memory that she revisited every day in her mind. What’s he waiting for? He's got to know I want him. Maybe Marsha had the right idea. If I could seduce him, Jack would crumble. Would he? What if he turns me down? Not sure I could handle being rejected….”
She heard his truck engine start and went to the window. He’d be driving today’s load of produce up to the house for sale on the porch. In addition to the earlier beans and summer squash, baskets of sweet corn, huge vine ripened red tomatoes and bell peppers joined the other vegetables for sale. The front porch was doing a brisk business.
Going to the door, she went to wait for him. It’d become routine for her to help unload the boxes and baskets and arrange everything for the afternoon traffic. No longer was there any discussion of their separate responsibilities. She was happy to help and enjoyed Jack’s company. Lifting the heavy baskets from the bed of the pickup, Jack brought them to rest on the railing and she eased them onto the floor. When he had everything arranged to his satisfaction he sank into a chair next to her.
“Don’t forget I’m taking the truck to Van Wart this evening to have it tuned up and tires rotated.”
“Yes, you have to leave it overnight, right? John is driving you back?”
Vicky certainly remembered it because today was Jack’s birthday and he'd be out of the house when everybody arrived for his surprise party. He hadn’t mentioned the fact and had no idea that Victoria was even aware of it. She smiled at him brushing a lock of hair off her forehead.
Jack noticed that little gesture, o
ne of many that endeared her to him. She’s so beautiful; I can’t believe I ever thought she wasn’t.
Vicky’s mind was on the birthday surprise she and Diane had planned for Jack. At the first meeting of the book club, Diane had mentioned that this was his thirtieth and suggested they should do something special to celebrate.
“Victoria, I want you to ride into the Grove with me this evening. I don’t want to leave you alone here, even for an hour.”
Oh man. I need to be here to set everything up and get ready for the surprise party. “Jack, that’s not necessary. You don’t need to worry about me. Do you really think Van Winkle will do something?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I think. I don’t want to take any chances. We can go shopping or anything else you want to do, but I really insist you come with me.”
“All right, if it will make you feel better,” she sighed. I've got to do some quick thinking. Oh man. I hope I can figure this out. I’ll have to make a major change in plans. As Jack’s first customer rolled into the drive, she excused herself and slipped inside the house. She quickly texted Diane about the change.
Three hours later the last of Jack’s customers were disappearing down the road and he turned his hand-lettered sign on the porch rail from “OPEN” to “CLOSED.”
Stepping inside he called out, “I’m going to take a shower, and then we can leave for town.”
From the kitchen she called back, “I’m good with that. Take your time.”
When he came downstairs feeling refreshed, he was surprised to find that she had changed her clothes. She was wearing makeup, earrings and an attractive skirt and sleeveless top. Gone were the jeans and T-shirt. “Wow! I should take you to town more often.”
She smiled at him and said, “We’d better go before it gets any later.”
“Sure. It takes my breath away how beautiful you look. Too bad we have to leave.” He grinned. This will be awesome tonight!
Keeping Victoria's Secret Page 24
