by Vella, Wendy
She woke feeling shame roll over her. She showered, ate breakfast, and tried to push it aside. It was done, and there was nothing she could do to change it. Maybe she’d been wrong in saying what she had after they’d made love; okay, she’d been a bitch. Panic had forced those words out of her mouth, but that was no excuse. She’d behaved badly.
You need to apologize to him.
Rory leaped out of her seat as she heard a car, relieved to have a distraction. She half hoped and dreaded it was Jack. When she saw June Harvey getting out of her sleek gray sedan, she wished it had been.
“Hello, Aurora.”
“Mrs. Harvey.”
Her mouth was pursed tight as she walked in her heels to where Rory still stood by the front door. She didn’t think she’d ever seen this woman looking anything but immaculate. Not a hair out of place, makeup perfect.
“What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to drop by to see how you were.”
“Peachy.”
June climbed the steps and stopped before Rory.
“Yes, well... I—ah, wanted to discuss the other night.”
“At the bar?”
“Yes. I wasn’t myself, and I would like you to forget that conversation. I had taken some medication and then had two glasses of wine.”
“I believe you said my father was spoiled, arrogant, and believed the world was here to serve him? And that you gave him twenty-five years, and you loved him?”
“I did not love him!” Color flooded her cheeks. “I admired him of course.”
“I’m sure you said loved.”
“Yes, well maybe I did. Of course we had a bond, Jackson and I. But I’m here to tell you to forget every word, and ask you to leave. No good can come from staying in Ryker Falls. Now, I’m asking politely that you do this, Rory. You’re upsetting people.”
“Which people?”
“Pardon?” She blinked several times, almost like her mascara-coated lashes were stuck together.
“You need a Q-tip? I have some in the bathroom.”
“What?” The word was screeched.
“You’re blinking.” Rory was having way too much fun at the woman’s expense, and it just enforced what a bad person she was.
“No, I do not need a Q-tip! What I need is for you to leave.”
“Why?”
“I’ve told you why!”
“Because I’m upsetting people, but here’s the way I see it, June... hope you don’t mind me calling you that? I think it’s mainly you and your little posse who don’t want me here, and that’s got me to wondering why?”
She stumbled back a step as if Rory had slapped her. Panicked was the only word to describe June Harvey now. What Rory couldn’t work out was why.
“No! They don’t want you here.”
“Now that’s just too bad, because I’m staying....” Rory’s words fell away as June’s eyes went to her father’s briefcase, sitting on the porch ready for her to take to Bas to see if he could open it. If possible, she’d lost more color.
“Look, Mrs. Harvey—”
“Leave this town!”
Before Rory could answer, the woman had turned and hurried back to her car. She fired the engine to life and sped off down the driveway.
“Weird,” Rory muttered. “That woman is clearly losing it.”
Heading back inside, she stomped up the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. It was time she tackled the last closet, and in her current mood she needed to focus on something.
She owed Jack an apology, there was no getting around that fact.
Rory had been right there with him every step of that sensual experience the night of the quiz. In fact, it had been he who’d tried to slow them down, tried to pull back, but she hadn’t let him—and then she’d abused him and run.
“Such a coward,” she muttered, lifting a large box out of the cupboard. Opening the lid, she found it was full of hand-knitted dolls.
“Nana,” she sighed, dropping to her knees to inspect each one.
So many colors and so many hours of work. These dolls needed to be played with. Needed to be loved. The only child she knew was Grace Howard. Pulling out her cell phone, she found the number for Phil’s Place and was told Piper was out riding today with her family.
Which meant she was at the ranch. If she went there, there was every possibility she’d see Jack, and maybe that was a good thing. She could apologize.
“Be a big girl about this,” she reminded herself.
Pulling on her coat, boots, hat, and gloves, she carried the box out to the car and loaded it in the trunk. The view was magnificent this morning; a dusting of snow covered the ground and everything was still and silent. Rory realized if she left, it would be a wrench to do so.
The sound of cars coming up her driveway made her heart sink. Had June Harvey come back with reinforcements?
Her relief when she saw it was Mandy was followed by confusion when three other cars pulled up behind her.
“Hi, Rory.” Mandy waved as she got out. Her aunts were next. Suddenly there were a lot of women on her property... lots of women, all carrying bags and plates.
“Ah, hi,” Rory said to Mandy, who reached her first. “What’s up?”
“We decided you were hosting knitting club.”
“Mandy—”
“Step aside, Aurora May.” Tafty stomped up the steps. “I have a treat for you, but you have to make me tea first, just like I taught you.”
Rory reached for the plate her old nanny waved in her face, and had her hand slapped.
“That brings back memories.”
Tafty was the softest tough person you could ever meet. Rory had loved her... and looking at her purple crocheted hat pulled low over her wiry gray curls, she thought maybe she still did.
“I don’t remember saying I wanted to be in the knitting club.” Everyone was now filing into her house. She counted eight before Mr. Goldhirsh stepped up.
“Just roll with it, dear,” he said, patting her cheek.
“You knit?”
“Who doesn’t?” He waved an oblong leather case at her, the front embossed with a famous sports brand.
“You carry your knitting in a sports bag?”
“Style is vital, girl, never forget that.”
Shaking her head as he followed the line of women, she tried to clear it.
“Don’t say anything about the state of my house if you didn’t tell me you were coming!”
As she went inside, Rory realized what she’d said. My house... yes, that felt strangely right, and wasn’t that a terrifying thought.
They all settled in various places around her lounge, like hens roosting. Mr. Goldhirsh went to the fireplace and stoked it to life.
“Umm, so am I making tea?” Rory said, because she couldn’t see any way to remove all nine of them by force. They reeled off their orders, and she headed for the kitchen. On the bench was a row of plates filled with savory and sweet treats.
“Maybe I’ve warped into another time and place?” Rory muttered, digging around in a cupboard for her grandmother’s teapot.
“Make sure you heat the pot like I told you.” Tafty appeared.
“This is weird.”
Tafty’s frown eased as she came up to Rory and slipped a hand around her waist, hugging her briefly.
“It’s acceptance, Aurora May.”
“I guess, but it’s still weird. I mean, these people don’t give you a choice, do they?”
“When it matters they do, but when they think it’s the right thing to do, they don’t.”
“Which kind of makes sense in a roundabout way.”
Rory leaned back on the bench to watch her old nanny bustle about unwrapping the food.
“I’m sorry I never came back to visit you, Tafty.”
“Your letters told me what I needed to know.”
“But I want you to know we, me, Leo, and Matt, missed you terribly.”
A gnarled hand slipped into
the pocket of her knitted cardigan and a handkerchief appeared. It was pressed to her nose.
“Life turned on its head so quickly I didn’t know for a while how to right it again,” Rory added. “I hated my dad, and loathed Mom too. The boys and I rebelled for a bit.”
“It’s all right, we’ve got time to talk now you’re back.” Tafty wrapped her fingers around Rory’s wrist and squeezed. “Right now we need to get this tea going. They can become feral easily if they’re not fed and watered.” She nodded to the wall the knitting group were seated behind.
Snorting, Rory helped her dear old friend. She felt better suddenly. Lighter, as if saying those few words to Tafty had cleansed her just as it had with Mandy. At least this was one wound she could heal. The other one, which came in the form of a tall, handsome stranger, would now have to wait until she’d moved the knitting club on.
Soon tea and food was set up on small tables that someone knew where to find, and they were sitting in the warmth chatting and knitting. It was oddly comforting, Rory thought thirty minutes later.
“Now dear, you’ve dropped a stitch,” Mr. Goldhirsh said, leaning over to point out Rory’s mistake. “You need to focus.”
“Focus, right.”
Not an easy thing to do with so many thoughts whirling around inside her head.
Chapter 20
Jack told himself he was only calling in to see Rory because Mr. Goldhirsh had called and asked that he drop off the bag he’d left at the house. Why the man needed it now, he had no idea, but he did, and as Jack had taken the call, it was he who had to deliver it.
He’d asked what Mr. Goldhirsh was doing at Rory’s, but that had been ignored and the call cut. So here he was, driving up the rutted drive and parking behind a red Buick he knew belonged to Mrs. Parks.
“Let’s go, bud.” Jack motioned Buzz out. The dog went wherever he wanted, and today he’d wanted to come with Jack.
Knitting Club!
Realizing what day it was, he thought seriously about turning around and driving back out the way he’d come, but then he’d just get another call from Mr. Goldhirsh. Jack didn’t disobey the seniors in this town often, if ever, but this man deserved his respect, so if he asked, Jack delivered.
He climbed the steps to the porch and banged on the door. Someone called, “Enter.” Not Rory, he guessed. It surprised him she’d decided to host knitting club. She didn’t seem to want to get too involved in the community, no matter how many people kept trying to drag her in.
Walking through the house, he thought the place looked better... uncluttered.
“In here, Jack.”
Following Mr. Goldhirsh’s voice, he found everyone seated in the lounge. His eyes went to Rory, who looked surprisingly comfortable, although her expression at seeing him wasn’t exactly welcoming. Not that he cared. She’d pissed him off after they’d made love, and he was no closer to forgiving her than he had been three nights ago.
She wore jeans with rips again, and a loose work shirt, that if he was guessing he would say belonged to a man. Jack didn’t like the flash of jealousy accompanying that thought.
“Buzz!” Mandy immediately dropped her knitting and hugged the fur ball.
“Thanks, Jack. You hand that to me.” Mr. Goldhirsh smiled at him.
“Why do you need this when you have your knitting bag?”
“It has wool in it I want to give Dorothy.”
“Right.” Jack couldn’t be sure, but thought he’d been lured here. What he couldn’t figure out was why.
“Jack, can you fix this row for me?” Miss Marla waved her knitting at him.
“I really can’t stay.”
“Come sit, boy,” she said, ignoring him. “Pull up that chair.”
“No, really.”
“Sit!”
He did as she said. It was that schoolteacher voice of hers; it still made him shudder. Jack wasn’t sure, but thought he heard a snicker, and it had come from Rory.
“You’ve missed a row of purl,” Jack said, looking at the knitting.
“Can you fix it for me, dear?”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“My eyes aren’t good today.” Miss Marla’s voice sounded weak.
“You know that won’t wash with me, don’t you?” he said, dropping the row she’d messed up. “Seriously, you’ll outlive all of us.”
“I’ll make your tea.”
Jack had woken with Rory in his head every day since that night they’d made love in Joe’s storeroom. He’d dreamed about her. Uncomfortable dreams that had him tossing and turning, which annoyed him because he was too busy for broken sleep.
“I hear someone stole a picture right off the wall from A.S., Jack?”
“They did, and my brother’s pretty annoyed, but as Chief Blake said, there’s not a hell of a lot they can do about it. It’s likely a tourist wanting a souvenir, and long gone by now.”
“Scoundrels,” Mrs. Taft muttered.
“Did you hear Bob and Nancy Hawkins are building a new extension? Word has it it’s for their night games.”
“I... pardon?”
Jack swallowed his smile as Rory spoke. Looking up, he watched as she shot Gail Blake, the Chief of Police’s wife, a shocked look.
“They like to get at it in odd ways,” Miss Sarah added calmly. “The neighbors, Rory, have had to add extra insulation, as the noises the Hawkinses make are quite something.”
“You have to be kidding me?” She shot him a look, then glanced away again.
“Swings, dear.”
“P-pardon?” Rory looked at Mrs. Taft in horror.
“They have those swing things from the ceiling, although the Lord alone knows how a person can hang in one and do that?”
Rory made a choking sound. Jack kept knitting. He’d been in on these meetings before and knew what they entailed. A man could find out a great deal of information in an hour.
“Bob’s extremely fit, so I imagine he has stamina,” Mr. Goldhirsh said, his needles clacking. He was making Grace a sweater in purple.
“Yes, he’s a big man too, and we all know what that means.”
“Nancy does smile a great deal,” Miss Marla added.
Rory’s face was almost comical now. Buzz, he noticed, was now resting on her leg, no doubt cutting off the blood supply.
“Mind you, I heard from Jed in the post office that the parcels just keep coming for them. Each is unlabeled, but everyone knows what’s in them. He opened one once,” Gail said. “Closed it pretty quick, his wife said. Apparently, there was some kind of phallic thing in there, and a liter of lube.”
Rory choked. As far as Jack could see it was on air, as she hadn’t eaten anything.
“Here we are, dear.”
Jack took a large bite of the lemon cake Miss Marla had placed before him, and washed it down with a mouthful of tea.
“Did you hear the Pittons were heard yelling at each other again?” Mrs. Taft said. “Seems she wants him to have a vasectomy, and he’s not willing.” She held onto the v for effect.
“I hear it turns them black,” Mr. Goldhirsh added. “Painful too.”
“What turns black?” Mandy asked.
“Down there, dear,” Miss Sarah said.
Jack thought maybe Rory had swallowed her tongue.
“Right, I’ve fixed this for you, but you have to pay attention.” Jack handed the knitting back to Miss Marla. “Knit one, purl one.” He got to his feet. “Now I need to go. I have real work to do, unlike you lot.”
That comment received howls of outrage, and a pillow was thrown at him.
“Let’s go, Buzz.”
He gave Rory a curt nod. His anger was still there. She’d lashed out at him, and it hadn’t been justified. Okay, maybe he’d had a few women in his life... more than a few, but she’d been right there with him in that room. Right there as he’d slipped his hands— He shut off those thoughts. He wasn’t going there again, it just aroused and frustrated him.
He
drove into town for the supplies he needed and then headed back to the stables. Abigail Harvey was waiting for him when he pulled up. He released the breath he’d inhaled and tried to relax.
Maggs had teased him about Abby wanting to be his wife, but the thought had stuck. She took a weekly lesson, and it wasn’t an hour he looked forward to… in fact, he hated it. She kept throwing herself at him, touching him and rubbing her breasts against whatever part of him she could reach. Okay, so they were fine breasts, but he wasn’t interested and wished now he’d never dated her.
“Hey, Abby.”
“Oh, Jack, I’m so excited for my lesson.” She hurried to him, and leaned up to kiss his cheek, making sure she plastered herself all over him. For a riding lesson, she was overdressed. Tight white jodhpurs and a fitted shirt that had the top few buttons open so he could see the blue bra through the opening
“No jacket again, Abby? It’s cold out here today.”
“I’m always warm when I’m around you, Jack.”
Shit!
“Okay, let’s get started. I had time so I’ve saddled Sandy already. Get her out of her stall, and I’ll meet you in the arena.”
“Hey, bro,” his little brother wandered into the arena.
“Luke!” Jack said more loudly than he’d intended.
Luke’s eyebrows shot up. His eyes then went from Jack to Abby, who’d just arrived leading Sandy.
“The very one.”
“You here to help out?”
Luke gave him a look that said he’d read every thought in Jack’s head.
“Sure, I got time.”
“Sweet. I need that end stable right beside the arena mucked out.”
“Oh joy,” Luke muttered.
The arena was cold. Since it was such a big space, it wasn’t heated, but he loved it here. It was his place, where usually he felt at home.
“Can you help me up, Jack? Sandy is so tall,”
“Abby, I won’t always be there to help. You need to learn to get on yourself.”
Maybe his words were harsh, and maybe as she was a paying customer he could be nicer, but the warm feeling he’d had leaving Rory’s house had eased, and he was tense again.
Okay, technically he’d been tense seeing Rory, but he’d enjoyed the knitting.
