LACHLAN

Word has a way of traveling fast in a small town. Word travels even faster when it involves family.

Jessie heard it from Monna, who heard it from Andy, who heard it from Emily … the injured party. I don’t know why I felt such a compulsion to lend a hand to Kim aside from the fact that I didn’t like to think of any man being reduced to sleeping in his car for more than an evening or two. Kim’s well known for being an insufferable prat, but he and I always managed to get along well enough. After discussing the matter with Jessie, I headed out to the Inn to extend our offer in person.

The hard part was tracking him down. He wasn’t in his office and word was out that he was on the run from Riley. If Andy knew of his whereabouts he wasn’t talking and Marla confided that she had seen him earlier over by the pub. When I questioned Daisy, she seemed distracted and just mumbled something that sounded like he’s not real. Figuring that she was maybe fighting with Cory over something, I called Kim from my cell phone.

“Where the bloody hell are you, mate? Word’s out that you’ve gone down under.”

He sounded tired. “It’s complicated and believe me, you really don’t wanna know.”

I laughed. “Well, guess what? The whole world knows that you’re a complete tosser, but that’s not why I’m calling. I have a proposition for you, but I’d rather deliver it in person.”

“Are you carrying any sharp knives or other pointed objects?”

“Just my razor sharp wit, mate.”

“Well, that makes me feel a little safer. Meet me in five minutes over at the gazebo.”

When I caught up to him, he looked slightly worse for wear, but everything seemed to still be all in one piece. 

“You look like shit.”

Kim grimaced as if in pain. “That’s okay; I feel like shit, too. So, what’s this proposal you mentioned?”

“Word has it that you slept in your car last night again.”

“Yeah, and I showered in the employee locker room this morning. What of it?”

“Listen, Jess and I would like to offer you the use of one of our spare bedrooms until you get things straightened out.”

He ran his hand through his hair and glanced out over the pond. “You know, you really don’t have to do this. I’ll swing out a solution in a couple of days or so.”

“Then stay with us for those couple of days while you’re working on it. I insist.”

“I could just rent a room in town.”

“Or you could just suck it up and accept a small handout from a friend.”

I watched his jaw tighten and heard him let out a heavy sigh. “Thanks, mate. I’ll try not to make too much of a nuisance of myself.”

“Oh, no worries where I’m concerned. Just don’t get on Jessie’s bad side; she’ll make sure you hear about it, so you’ve been warned.”

He gave a bitter sounding laugh as we shook hands on the deal. “Trust me; I think I’m about ready to swear off all women for a while. Neither one of you will even know I’m there.”

I doubted that, but hopefully he and Emily will be able to work things out eventually. If not, well, maybe something good will come out of it for both of them in the long run. 

JOHN

Finally, home again. My three days with Colin were shit, totally unproductive. I’m worried; the guy is lost, maybe worse than even Hando thinks. Halfway thought our first conversation, the prick stood up and walked out, announcing he was going out for some bloody fun and no one was gonna stop him. He left poor Carrie in tears. All she said was that he does it every night; leaves, comes back sometimes the next day and always drunk. But luckily, Colin doesn’t get hangovers … some goofy blood chemistry thing probably inherent in all fucking Aussies. He still races, races well and aggressively, but he hasn’t earned a pole position, hasn’t won a race or even ended in the top four in nearly six races. His new, extravagant and damaging life style was definitely taking its toll. Poor Carrie, the distraught wife, was standing at his side, believing that as soon as the season ended in November, they’ll be coming back to Vermont and be able to straighten things out. I got my doubts.

Nathan was extremely noisy and active this morning; getting on my nerves and I had to swallow back yelling at him. Poor kid was just happy daddy was home. I needed to be a little more tolerant. I had a headache and a shit load of things to do, lots of catching up. Things are tough enough and now the construction has come to a dead standstill until the Federal agent could come and dig up the body that probably won’t even be there anyway. I’m tired, cranky and not in the mood for anything … but the morning has a lot in store for me. Riles was being charitable, not smacking me across the head every time I grunt or groan.

Then we got a call from Maximus announcing the birth of his daughter … six pounds twelve ounces, twenty-one inches long and beautiful. They’re naming her Lucy. He said they’d try to be here for Thanksgiving and knowing Maximus, he’s chomping at the bit to show off his little bundle of joy. Sophia is fine and they were already comfortable at home. He said the vineyard is thriving. Good. At least someone’s having a smooth time of things.

The mail came and Riley sat at the table, leafing through bills and various letters from former guests, most complimentary but of course there’s always an occasional complaint. This morning the gripe came from a sixty-year-old man who was hoping to see a ghost. Apparently the ghosts weren’t interested in being seen that weekend. Ah well, everyone wants something.

“Oh!” Riley said and ripped opened another envelope. “It’s a letter from Egan.” Nathan scrambled up onto my lap and stirred my coffee with loud clinks of the spoon. I grit my teeth and Riles extracted the utensil from the kid’s hand as she read the letter aloud. My son left for his toys and I listened to what Egan had to say.

Dear Riley and John,

I imagine you’re both a bit puzzled for my reasons behind writing this letter; I haven’t really gone out of my way to keep in contact with you or any of the others over the past several years, but I guess old habits die hard for some of us. I’ve always been a bit of a loner and needed to prove to myself that that I could make a life here on my own, but as you both know, life has a way of changing when we least expect it.

I’ve just been informed that I am the father of a seven-year-old boy. His name is Jacob and two weeks ago his mother, Laurie, was killed in an auto accident. The social worker assigned to Jacob’s case has informed me that Laurie was drunk and that Jacob had been with her at the time of the crash; the boy suffered a badly broken arm. Thankfully, this was Jacob’s only physical injury. 

I met Laurie soon after settling in Texas where I found work as a ranch foreman. After we went our separate ways, I never heard from her again. I have no explanation why she never let me know about my son, Lord knows I would have answered to my responsibilities. From what his social worker tells me, Laurie had a record of drug and alcohol abuse combined with a long list of boyfriends who were abusive to both her and Jacob. There’s no words for the amount of guilt I feel for not having had the chance to properly care for my son; perhaps it might have made a difference where Laurie’s fate was concerned, but I suppose I’ll never really know.

Now I’m faced with being an instant father and understandably, this little boy is having a hard time adjusting to the loss of his mother. Both of our lives have changed overnight. Until recently, I’ve been working along the Gulf Coast, but my roughneck rigging days seem to be over. I’m determined to make up for lost time and be the father that Jacob needs, but I need some help. I want my son to know that he not only has a father but a string of aunts, uncles and cousins … a real family. I can’t imagine a better place to raise my son, but I don’t want to intrude without first asking … is there room for the two of us in Vermont?

Sincerely,
Egan

The first thing I did was pick up Nathan and hug him tight to my heart. The second thing I did was dial the phone.

“Egan, come home. There’s room here at the Inn for you and Jacob and we’re all here to help you, buddy.”

SAMANTHA DE LA CROIX

I’m a cop who specializes in tourist town work. I love coming back to Stowe. It’s a whole different attitude and lifestyle; more laid back than the big city and it gives me the chance to settle in and get reacquainted with all the townsfolk. I discovered that several new shops had opened since last year, and it looked as if a fair number of tourists had once again taken over the neighborhood. I love the winter, but autumn in Vermont is something everyone should have the joy of experiencing at least once in their lifetime. I enjoyed it so much that I actually bought a little cottage here a couple of years ago. At the time it seemed like a good investment, but with the economy in such a mess and real estate values plummeting, perhaps it may one day just end up being a nice little place for me to retire. At least it saved me the hassle of renting an apartment; nothing beats the feeling of coming home to your very own house after a long day on the beat.

They’ve elected a new Sheriff and while I was at first pretty content with the notion of having a different boss this time around, let’s just say that I’m not having a very good feeling about this Ben Wade. Oh, I’ve run across his kind before; some men just won’t accept the fact that we’re living in the 21st century, and the days of a woman’s place being at home raising a brood of children are as ridiculous as the notion that the moon is made out of green cheese. When I showed up for roll call this morning, I made sure that my uniform was spotless and my hair was pulled into a tight bun; my service revolver was clean and shiny and I was pleased to be working again with several familiar faces. But the Sheriff … well, let’s just say that I’m going to have to be on my guard. I get the feeling that he’d just as soon stick me on traffic detail or dispatch instead of letting me just do my job like the rest of the guys.

BEN
           
In my day a woman didn’t work unless their husband owned a business and needed her help. I got my hands full enough dealing with Tracy and her ideas of starting a hair cutting salon. The last thing I needed to see was a woman officer on my staff. When I first saw the list of seasonal officers coming in, I didn’t notice anything different. One’s name was Ed, then there was Sam, then a Gregory and a James. How’d I know Sam was really Samantha? Miss De La Croix doesn’t even look like a woman … well, that ain’t so true, actually she looks a lot like a woman, even in her blue uniform. Curves everywhere, kinda small. I can hardly believe anyone would make her a police officer and then I find out this is her eighth winter season working in Stowe. What was Sheriff Mike thinking?

It was my plan to give her some easy assignment, but the dispatcher, a young man by the name of Freddie, informed me that Sam is a decorated officer and handling the filing wasn’t going to be very acceptable to anyone on the staff. Fine. We’ll see. I gave the others their assignments and decided to leave Officer De La Croix for last, after I got a chance to think this thing through.

I let her wait in my office while I checked in with the night captain. Seemed we had us a vagrant in our little jail, picked up for busting up one of the small pubs on Western Street. The idiot was still drunk as a skunk, even after a whole night sleeping it off in the lock up.

“What’s your name, mister?”

He rolled his neck and snorted. “What’s it matter?”

I turned to the captain. “He talks kinda funny. I heard that accent somewhere before.”

“I think it’s Scottish.”

“I’m Irish, you stupid arses!”

“So, what’s your name?” I waved the captain off, he was tired and ready to head home and I sure as hell didn’t need him to help me with a Scottish speaking Irishman.

“What’s it matter?” The look in his eyes caught something in my guts, something familiar, like maybe I felt like that once too. “I’m already dead. Where the hell am I?”

“Your name?” I asked again.

“Gerry Kennedy and I died of a brain tumor. I can’t be in your bloody jail. I’m dead.”

Jesus Christ. I knew that look alright. I felt just like that once and not so long ago. I never seen this man before but there was something damn familiar about his situation. I turned away, instructed the morning crew not to release Mr. Kennedy until I gave the word and rushed to my office. I had to call John.

I forgot about Officer De La Croix. I found her sitting and talking real friendly with Tracy and, for a minute, I wanted to just walk away from the whole new job. No one told me sheriffing involved stuff like this.

“De La Croix. Wait outside.”

“Yes, sir.” And she left.

“Wow, that was a little rude. She’s a nice lady, Ben. What are you so pissed off about?” Tracy grinned and kissed my cheek. “Cheer up, the day could improve.”

“I think I got a problem. Come with me.” I took her hand and led her to the cell. Watched her face. Yeah, I was right. I had a problem.

As we walked out she kept looking back and whispering. “You know who that is? That’s Gerry Kennedy from that movie … um … oh yeah, P.S. I Love You. It was so sad, he died you know. Died of a brain tumor and … oh … oh dear, what’s he doing here? You better call John.”

“Yeah. Did you need somethin’ darlin’?”

“No just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

“Good, hi … now I gotta get to work.”

“Can’t you let Gerry out of the cell? He looks so sad.”

“Gerry? You call him Gerry? You don’t even know that man. He’s still too drunk to let out on the streets … and I need John’s opinion on what to do with him. Don’t be tellin’ anyone he’s here, ya hear?”

“Yes, Ben,” she smiled real sweet and this time kissed me on the lips. Made me feel real good too.

I watched her sweet behind leave my office and picked up the phone, but didn’t get to dial. “That Fed’s here I think,” said one of my men and I groaned.

AGENT COOPER

I arrived in Stowe, Vermont and parked the rented Ford Taurus in front of the sheriff’s office at precisely nine fifty-five. I lifted my recorder and pushed the button.

“Dianne, your directions were efficient and simple and again I appreciate your attention to detail. In reviewing my itinerary, I see that you have me booked at the very Inn where the body is suspected to be buried. Bravo. It can’t have been easy to get me a room in Vermont during such a glorious autumn.

“This is a lovely area, the mountains are spectacular. It reminds me of Twin Peaks, Washington; brisk air, lovely colors, delightful small town atmosphere. This is a very important assignment and I am thrilled with all your research. To have the opportunity to get out in the field again is bracing. Who would guess that at fifty-five I would pull such a case? To investigate the possible murder of a FBI narcotics agent who’s been missing for over thirty years? One exciting challenge.”

I stopped the recorder and the engine. Ten on the dot and I had an important appointment with Sheriff Ben Wade. Our first responsibility, to get the woman whose been talking to the ghost of dead under cover agent, Robert Sawicki, in to have a little chat. That and to have a good, steaming cup of black coffee.

DAISY

Talk about a nervous wreck! Here I am trapped in Ben’s office. Agent Cooper just keeps firing question after question, completely stone-faced. I don’t know if he believes me or not, but ya know, I’m leaning toward not. I’m trying to answer as best I can, but Christ, I really don’t know anything other than what Bob told me: that he was murdered and buried on the Inn property.

And now, and now, Cory’s decided this whole thing is so intriguing that he wants to film it! So, not only do I have Ben and Agent Cooper drilling me for answers, but I’ve got Cory’s camera in my face as question after question are fired at me.

And worse yet, now that the FBI’s involved, what happens if it all turns out to be nothing? That Bob Sawicki is just a figment of my imagination? Will I go to jail? I can just see the headlines now … Crazy Bartender Jailed for Wasting FBI’s Time.

But, then again, what if Bob’s real and his murderer is still alive. What will the murderer do when we dig up Bob’s body?

EMILY

I know that I should just be thankful that I have any kind of job at all, but being back as interim manager at the Inn’s gift shop just intensifies my sense of failure. How could something that started out on an exciting and promising note have ended up being such a complete disaster? It’s like fate is punishing me for daring to take steps to further my career; the humiliation of New York and the shock of finding Kim with that woman, then to come back and face everyone at home. I don’t feel as angry as I did initially; right now I just find myself fighting back tears of disappointment.

Luckily, things are fairly busy at the Inn right now; tourists are arriving in droves. This morning I had one of the girls help me set up a new corner display showcasing a new line of Kelly’s earthenware … beautiful large bowls and platters in a glaze of deep brown with vibrant scarlet and orange accents that demand center stage at any holiday table. For a brief moment I considered buying a couple pieces for myself, but then remembered that I no longer have anyone to cook for. After that we set up a window display with beautiful hand loomed blankets and I caught myself thinking back to those lazy Sunday mornings snuggling in bed with Kim. Oh yeah … almost forgot; I’m back to sleeping alone again.

By lunchtime I really needed a temporary change of scenery. The autumn air was cool and crisp and I needed to clear out my head and gather my equilibrium; if I allowed my emotions to continue clouding my thoughts then I was just going to end up crying. Everyone’s been really supportive and kind during the aftermath with Kim, but I really don’t want the word to get around that I’m falling apart on the job. It’s highly unprofessional and I don’t want Riley to think that I can’t handle getting my old job back. Rumors fly like crazy around here and I have to keep a firm grip on my emotions.

I grabbed a croissant and a cup of coffee from the employee kitchen and strolled over to a quiet little spot where I could sit and watch the construction without being seen. As I sipped my coffee, I realized that all work in the construction area had come to a stop. It was then that I noticed John Biebe, Sheriff Ben and a few other individuals arriving at the gate, most notably a tall dark haired gentleman wearing a black jacket with big yellow letters on the back spelling out “FBI.” Good Lord … what’s this all about?

RICHIE

Oh man, I had full intentions of leaving Vermont, giving Thorne a call and starting a life somewhere else. Then I saw the police cars arrive, the Fed in his official stupid looking jacket with the big yellow FBI across his back and Ben walking with Daisy toward the construction area. Cory was there too, his camera poised. That kid had a good nose, he knew where the interesting stuff was and this sure as hell wasn’t something I wanted to miss out on. I grabbed a jacket and trotted out to meet them.

“Hey Ben, what’s goin’ on, man?” I asked, like I didn’t know or something.

The Fed turned. “Sorry, sir, this is a Federal investigation.”

“Uh …” Ben cleared his throat. The dude looked scared to death. It’ll take time for an outlaw like Ben Wade to get comfortable with being the law. “Agent Cooper, this is Richie Roberts. He’s a lawyer, used to be a cop. He’s okay.”

“Do you know anything about this investigation?” Cooper asked, walking quickly and following Daisy.

“Uh, I know a little about Sawicki, that he disappeared without a trace a long time ago.”

Daisy stopped. Poor thing looked like she was freaked out. She pointed to the ground at her feet. “Here.”

Cooper instructed three of the officers to start digging. One was a female officer … damn pretty one at that.

“Now, Daisy.” Cooper said. “Can you tell me, why do you think the deceased has chosen to talk to you and why now?”

Daisy was like a deer in the headlights. Cory piped up. “Well, sir. Why he chose Daisy, no one will know. But the why now is easy. Look around you. All this construction. Activity like that always agitates the dead.”

“And how do you know that, son?”

“I spent a little time working with a psychic who contacted the dead.”

“Daisy?”

“No, a woman by the name of Gemma Kane. I was the cameraman and co-producer for a television show with her.”

“The Ghost is Inn?” Cooper grinned. “I watched that show faithfully. Has it been renewed for next season? Easy there officer, I suspect this might be a shallow grave and we’d like to exhume the body intact. I’d love to see that show continue.”

“Uh,” Cory aimed his camera into the hole as he answered. “Not sure. I’ve quit the show. I do investigative films and tourism films these days.”

“Huh,” now the Fed’s full attention was on Cory. “I’d think that would be a step down from Hollywood.”

“Nah,” Cory moved around the hole for a good angle. “I got family here. Daisy and I like it here. Look at that!”

By now John had joined us and we all knelt for a better look.”

“This is it alright,” Agent Cooper sighed. “Be gentle with those shovels.”

“Ew … oh man … ew,” Daisy went white and I put an arm over her shoulder. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Daisy,” the Fed said, his hands brushing dirt from corroding bones. “Is Robert Sawicki here right now?”

“You’re touching him,” she groaned.

“No, I mean is his ghost here?”

She looked around. “Yeah.”

“Can you ask him if there’s something we should be looking for?”

Daisy grinned. “He said it’s your job, buddy. Oh, he’s leaving.”

“Which way?” Cooper stood like he was gonna follow an apparition someplace.

Daisy shrugged. “Probably back to the pub. He always hangs out there.”

“So,” Cory grunted, shifting to get a good filming of the body being removed from the ground. “You sticking around Vermont, Richie?”

“Oh hell yeah. Don’t wanna wait for the movie to find out how this thing works out

RILEY

It took me three damn days to track down Kim. He’s one slippery bugger and obviously running on his survival instinct, knowing I’m mad as hell about the situation with Emily. Half of the problem is personal, between him and his girl and I’ve really got nothing much to say about that. People fight, they get together or they go their separate ways. It’s in their hands. I love Kim and Emily together, love the idea of them having a future; she’s such a beautiful fit with the family … but it’s really their problem, not mine.

Now, the Inn and the way it functions? That’s a completely different story. I need Kim’s management to be top notch or we’ll all suffer. Even with the temporary hold up in the final stages of construction, we’ll still be opening for the season with a massive influx of guests; he has to be at the top of his game. Already several small balls have been dropped in my lap and I know the man needs a good assistant to accomplish everything on his daily to-do list. He had a good assistant, God sakes. He either has to get her back or he has to replace her and even a blind person could see he’s not doing either.

I could have cornered him in his office or anywhere throughout the Inn as he races around trying to cover all the bases … but that just wouldn’t be professional, especially in light of the fact that where screwing up my Inn is concerned, I can get pretty damn volatile. John’s already warned be to be gentle; I’m not feeling so gentle right now.

This afternoon I got an idea. I caught Monica in the kitchen and took her into the office. Explaining my problem I convinced her to write an email to Kim, inviting him to have dinner with her. She’s been completely pissed at him over it all and my theory is that if he believes she’s willing to be friends again, he just might take the bait. Her email read:

Kim,

Maybe I’ve been too hard on you. Meet me for a drink at Old Maulder’s at 5:00 this evening and we’ll talk.

Monica

His response came within seconds.

Monna!

This is bonzer. You’re such a love. I’m so happy someone wants to hear my side of all this. I’ll be there with bells on.

Sincerely,
Kim Barrett

She glared up at me. “You know I’m not meeting that slime for drinks, don’t you?”

“I know. I’m meeting the slime for drinks. Thanks.” I had just enough time to check on Marla at the front desk, get a sitter for the baby and clean up before leaving for the restaurant.

I sat in the car until I saw him go inside. Waited a few minutes, just to make sure he was seated and wouldn’t bolt, then walked inside and to his booth. Sliding in, you’d have thought he just saw a ghost.

“Ah … Riles? Um, I’m meeting someone else. Uh …”

“Yeah, I know. Monica. She arranged this for me. Now just be quiet and this won’t hurt so bad.”

“Bloody hell,” he groaned and gulped beer. He rubbed his eyes and squared his shoulders. “Alright, have at it. Are ya gonna fire me?”

“Hell no, but I am going to ream you a new asshole. What the hell are you thinking?” I controlled my volume, making sure it looked like we were having a pleasant conversation but with every word I said, Kim sank deeper and deeper in his seat. “You’re a professional, Kim Barrett, and you know damn well you can’t possibly do this job alone. Without an assistant, everything is crumbling. I won’t lie. I really, really want to fire you but not for firing Emily. I want to fire your sorry ass for not using your goddamn head! You should have gotten a temporary assistant as soon as she left for New York. You should have been looking for a full time replacement all along. When she came back you should have accepted her and let her do her job! I’m doubling my capacity in less than thirty days! Just how the hell did you think you were going to have everything ready without help? What the hell are you thinking?” The speech was almost everything I wanted to say and it left my throat raw from all the enthusiastic hissing. I blinked, sat silently and watched him. When he didn’t respond I repeated, “What the hell are you thinking?”

“I’m … I’m thinking … Riles, I was … hoping … it wouldn’t come to this, hoping I could fix it all. Bloody hell, I was hoping she’d forgive me.”

“We’re talking about business here, Kim, not forgiveness.” Yeah, I said it but I was starting to feel so bad for him. He looked like a beaten puppy, begging for a little love and a bone.

“Yes, I understand that. I apologize. I’ll get right on it first thing, put an ad in the papers, see who I can find. I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong with taking the easy road, Kim? Instead of placing ads, how about walking up to the gift shop and rehiring the best assistant you’ll ever have?”

“I … I can’t. She won’t … I mean … it’s kinda complicated.”

“What happened? I mean, I know what happened, Emmy told me all about the woman … in her bedroom … with you … but what really happened?”

“I didn’t do anything! I swear. I mean yes, I did invite her, I did think I wanted … you know … but I didn’t do anything. I was drunk and …”

Again he became quiet and my mind started to roll. His heartache was heavy in the air. Maybe John was right, maybe I should be gentle. Maybe … I should slip out of the professional persona and just be a caring friend. I sighed. I never wanted to talk about this but … “You know … that’s what John said. That he didn’t do anything.”

“Biebe? What the bloody hell are you saying? Biebe … cheated.”

“Almost, according to him. I was pregnant with Nathan, hormones I guess, I don’t know, but I was a handful and he just kinda snapped. You know he’s always so good to me –”

“The bloke’s a bloody saint!”

I glared.

“Uh, not because he put up with … uh … hormones … uh,” he shifted in the bench, cleared his throat. “You know what I mean, he’s good to you and he’s good to everyone.”

I blinked. I wanted to tell him about the black eye the bloody saint gave Wigand once, but I was exposing enough of John’s secrets for one sitting. I rubbed my eyes and continued. “Anyway, he snapped, left, got a girl and … didn’t do it. When he told me about it, I totally lost it and threw him out without letting him finish explaining. We didn’t actually talk again until Nathan was born. He finally explained it all to me during labor.”

“And you forgave him?”

I shrugged. “That’s hard to say, you know. Forgave him for what? For snapping? For needing a little attention? For getting close and changing his mind? What could I forgive him for, Kim? I love him, we were having a baby. Maybe forgiveness isn’t the right word, I don’t know. But I do know this much. Forgiveness is only one part of the process. I still deal with my own guilt, and my own suspicions. I sometimes think I don’t deserve him, and other times I know he doesn’t deserve me.” I grinned and he chuckled. “Kim, the hurt isn’t because of the offence; it’s because of the residual insecurity I felt over it all. Knowing he was so close to making love to another woman made me feel small and insignificant. Unimportant to him or anyone else on the planet. That’s what Emily’s really dealing with. I’d bet my bottom dollar on it.”

“How am I gonna get her back?”

“As a lover? I have no clue, buddy. But as an assistant, all I know is you better do it quickly or I’ll take the decision out of your hands and reinstate her myself. You’ve got twenty-four hours to make her the offer before I step in. Got it?”

He nodded dumbly.

“Okay, are there any waitresses working here tonight or do I have to go up to the bar and make my gin and tonic myself? And … was there really a saddle involved? And a riding crop?”

“Gin and tonic? I’ll go get it,” Kim leapt from the booth and rushed to the bar.

I just laughed. My main goal was accomplished; come hell or high water, Emily would be back at her desk by Monday morning. How they handled the close proximity? That just might be another story all together.

KIM

I keep waiting for everything to return to some kind of normal, but I reckon fate has another idea. I was embarrassed but relieved to have Lachlan offer me a room for a bit while I sorted things out. The conversation with Riles this evening left me feeling like I had to face another firing line; how were Emily and I ever going to work together after what had happened? Would she even consider coming back or was I going to have to hire someone new? If she did come back, could we even manage to be in the same room together?

By the time I arrived at the Curry house it was almost dark; it was kind of comforting to see the inside all it up from the street and I could even smell something cooking as I walked up to the front porch. Jessie opened the door just as I was about to knock.

“Hey, I’ve been expecting you. Come in.”

We exchanged hugs and greetings; I was surprised to see how big her belly had gotten and she laughed when I reached out to touch it.

“Give it a rub … Lach likes to joke that it brings them good luck.”

Feeling a little self conscious, I gave it a pat instead and took a quick glance around. The house reeked of comfort; dark stained wooden floors, a nice fire roaring in the fireplace, antique furniture mixed with contemporary pieces, that wonderful smell from the kitchen, a big fat, furry cat that decided he wanted to greet me by using my leg as a scratching post …

“Kahlua, stop that, you bad boy!” Jessie gave the cat a nudge with her foot and he drew back, throwing me a dirty look.

“Oh Kim, I’m sorry!” She clapped her hands together and the cat jumped up on the back of a nearby couch, his tail flicking as if to say, you’re not so tough, mate.  Jessie reached over and stroked her hand along the cat’s back and the bugger started to purr. “I promise he’s not destructive, but you may want to keep your bedroom door closed just in case, at least until he gets better acquainted with you. He just adores Lachlan and Jeff.”

I smiled, but gave the cat a warning look. “Well, hopefully I won’t need to stay long enough for him to get too attached.”

“Well, you’re welcomed to stay as long as you need. Lord knows we’ve got plenty of room. Lach and I have moved into the upstairs bedroom and we’re still working on finishing the third floor. Jeff’s room is next to yours with a shared bath. Follow me and I’ll show you everything.”

She led me through the family room and down a narrow hallway. “It’s pretty small, but the mattress and linens are new; we found the bed frame in the old storage shed in back. Here, I hope this is okay.”

She stood aside as I entered and my jaw dropped. She wasn’t joking when she’d said that the room was small; I guessed it to be about nine feet long by six feet wide. It would have made a nice closet, but there was the iron bed Jessie had mentioned, taking up most of the floor space. I tried to hide my disappointment, because it was obvious that she’d tried to make the room as comfortable as possible; a well worn looking old quilt on top of what looked like Egyptian cotton sheets with a couple of wool blankets folded up neatly at the foot of the twin sized bed. The wooden floor was covered with a large green and black tartan patterned rug and tartan patterned curtains framed the window behind the head of the bed.

“Here’s the door that leads to the bathroom and the door at the other end is a closet.” Jessie opened up the first door and I peeked in after her.

The bathroom was almost larger than my bedroom, but it had an old fashioned claw foot bathtub surrounded by a red shower curtain. The floor was patterned in black and white tile; the top part of the walls were papered in a red and white stripe and the bottom half was covered in black wainscoting. A pedestal sink sat beneath an old fashioned medicine chest. The door leading to Mitchell’s room was located to the right of it.

“The old wall heater’s been cleaned and rewired and passed code with flying colors.” She then pointed to a small window just above the loo. “This opens if you need some ventilation.”

“Jess, I want you to know that I appreciate your letting me stay. I know that the nipper’s gonna be here before too long and …”

She waved her hand and shook her head. “I don’t want you to worry about any of it. Lach and I both enjoy the company. You’re welcomed to join us for dinner tonight if you’re hungry; it’s only meatloaf with salad and baked potatoes, but if you ever feel like cooking something fancy for dinner, I hope you’ll feel free to do so. We usually eat around 6:30. The standing rule is that if I cook, everyone else has to clean up afterwards. First one up in the morning makes a pot of coffee and you’re expected to pitch in for groceries. I’m craving olives and pepperoni right now, so if you come across any in the fridge, you’d be wise to leave them alone, or else you may get woken up at two AM and have to go out and replace them.” She grinned to let me know that while she was serious, she was also teasing.

“Jeff divides his time between here and Matt’s house. Um, Matt’s our landscaper; he and Jeff are kind of an item. He spends the night on occasion, and he’s a really a great guy; I hope you’ll like him.”

That presented a whole situation I hadn’t considered; Mitchell entertaining an overnight guest and all of us sharing the same bathroom. So much for that little bit of privacy. But I didn’t want Jessie or Lachlan to think that I didn’t appreciate all they were doing for me, so I just smiled.

“I’m sure we’ll work it all out.”

We made our way back into the bedroom and I caught sight of the cat staring at me from the foot of my bed.

“Kahlua, get down from there. Go on, scram!” Jessie clapped her hands again and as the cat jumped onto the floor I noticed that he left something behind. It looked like a dead mouse and when Jessie noticed my expression, she just laughed.

“It’s not real. He has a bunch of catnip mice that he likes to hide and play with; I think he might be trying to tell you that he likes you.”

Great. Just what I need.

“Hey, let me show you the rest of the house … the guys have done so much work to have most everything ready before the baby’s born and it all looks pretty terrific.”

She walked out into the hallway and I followed after her, making sure to close the bedroom door behind me. I swear that the cat was laughing at me.

JESSIE

Dinner that evening was actually quite nice. Lachlan arrived home not long after Kim, and Jeff and Matt followed a short time later. I sensed Kim’s initial discomfort when Jeff first introduced him to Matt, but after a couple of beers, everyone was sitting at the table and joking and seemed to be enjoying themselves. The guys were kind and didn’t make any mention of Kim’s romantic drama and they all cleaned up the kitchen afterwards as I went upstairs to take a shower.

Later as Lachlan and I were getting ready for bed, I found the nerve to bring up a subject that had been worrying me for the past couple of weeks. See, while I don’t make a habit of snooping through Lach’s personal mail, I did take a peek at his financial statements from his investment firm. While most of the money is widely dispersed in a variety of different mutual funds, he did take a hit in a couple of speculative investments and I’ve been driving myself crazy with worry ever since.

I snuggled up next to him and felt the reassuring warmth of his arms as they came around me. “Babe, I’ve been thinking of helping Kelly out part time at her shop.”

He reached over to turn off the bedside light. “You don’t have enough here at home to keep you busy?”

Okay, it was time to fess up. “I saw your financial statements, and I don’t want you to have to worry about losing your money. I can still work and pitch in, you know.”

The light flicked back on. “Jess, if you just wanted to help out Kelly as a favor, I wouldn’t mind. But we’re far from broke. We own the house, our cars, and all the credit cards are paid down to practically nothing.”

“I don’t want to be a burden by not contributing.”

“Jess, you’re seven months pregnant. You shouldn’t be worrying about these things, and you know I don’t want you working while the babies are little. We’ve discussed this.”

I could hear a note of irritation in his voice and the last thing I wanted to do was fight, but I felt strongly about the matter. “Well, it’s not like I’m suggesting that I go back to work bartending. This would only be three days a week.”

“I really don’t want you working right now.”

“But all the added stress is on you; it’s not fair and I can help out.”

He sat up and leaned back against the headboard, pulling me along with him. “Jess, I really don’t want you to worry about all this. I’ve been talking to Kevin about a project I’ve been considering, and he seems really interested. Jeff and Matt have also shown an interest and I think we could really make a go at it.”

“Okay, now I’m really in the dark here. So, the four of you are thinking of going into business together? Doing what?”

“Buying up some of the distressed properties in town and making them livable again.”

I considered his idea. “How distressed are we talking? And do you really think that now’s the time to get into real estate?”

“Sweetheart, people always need a place to live. Some of these old homes can be bought at auction for as little as one dollar with the stipulation that they’re completely refurbished and livable within one year of the purchase date. You know how everyone’s talking about going green? We plan on using salvaged materials and eco-friendly resources to turn old properties into something new and usable.”

“Do you really think you guys can be successful?”

“Well, Kevin thinks it’s a great idea and has promised a substantial amount of backing, and Jeff and Matt think the idea is a sound one. We’ll know either way if we’re successful with the first property.”

“But what if you’re not?”

“Then I reckon we’ll take a good look and see if we’ve over reached in our expectations.” He tightened his arms around me for reassurance. “I can always go back to flying if push comes to shove, but I like the idea of working with my hands and being able to come home every night instead. So you don’t need to take on a job; we’re far from being at that point and I’m determined not to let it to happen.”

“You don’t want me working … ever?” I wasn’t totally opposed to the idea, and while we’ve discussed the issue in the past, I think it was just starting to hit me; I was going to be a housewife. I thought of Leave It To Beaver and The Brady Bunch and sighed. When I was younger I had imagined myself as a successful business woman, specializing in something like international law or owning my own business, and here I was, following in my mother’s footsteps.

“If I have my say, you’ll never have to work.” Lach leaned over and turned out the bedside lamp again. “But once the nippers are old enough and start school, we can talk about it.” He slid down underneath the covers and pulled me close to him once again. I felt safe, but a little conflicted as I repeated the word housewife over and over in my head. I really hope that I’m up for this.

JOHN