RILEY

John and I had begun to discuss our various houseguests; Natalie who had already begun packing things for the move to her own house being built in Maine; Terry who was stating that he was ready to head back to New York and move on with his life; Antony and Claudia, overcrowded in his small dorm-like room. We had a solution for Antony and a concern for Natalie, so lonely with Jack gone. So I did what I do best. I cooked dinner.

The babies were great throughout the evening, although little Nathan had been rather quiet all day, still attached to John’s leg and watching him like daddy might disappear again. I certainly know how the poor kid feels. Nat’s girls were funny, creeping all over the carpets and gravitating to Antony who kept asking which one he was holding. No matter, we always told him it was Catherine. Chances are he’s a little afraid to get attached to Chelsea after Gemma Kane’s proclamation that the child was the reincarnation of Atia. Couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Which one is this?” he sighed, lifted Chelsea onto his knee and let her snuggle against his chest.

“Catherine,” Natalie lied and John just grinned and shook his head.

By nine, the twins were sound asleep in their bouncy chair thingies and our son was in bed. It was time to get down to offering solutions to Antony.

We made the suggestion of the unused guesthouse. “I know you’ve been too busy to go house shopping but there’s no way you two should be cramped up in that small room any longer,” John said, opening the fourth bottle of wine for us ladies and sipping a beer.

Antony shrugged.

“But … if you don’t like the cottage, Nat will be moving from the apartment across the hall in a few months.”

“A few months,” Claudia actually slurred her groan. Poor woman had to be going mad, the closet in their room barely held her coat and a few blouses. It was a small employee room designed for temporary staffing during the high ski season.

“That’s not quite the issue, brother. I had promised Claudia a home of her own … but,” Antony sighed. “I fear your offers are both perfect under the circumstances. I have long worried over living off property. These will give us more room, my love … as well as a bit of privacy … and keep me close should the need arise.”

I got excited, I hate when people move away. “Oh! Oh! And Claudia, there’s more than enough room at the cottage to put your offices in there. Rent free business! How can you beat that?” I watched her think real hard wondered if I too was slurring my words. That was an awful lot of wine for three women who seldom drink. Natalie had started humming the theme from Gilligan’s Island and Claudia joined in … “A three hour tour … a three hour tour.”

“Ah, maybe you ladies need a few crackers to soak up the booze?” John teased and Antony stood to get himself another beer. I think the guys were trying to catch up.

Me? I was just having fun. It had been such a stressful few weeks and I needed to let my hair down. But what I did next, even I can’t believe. I stood, strategically blocking Antony’s path and he stilled, grinning down at me, the same way he grinned at Catherine or the other Catherine. My finger rose and I found it, fully independent of my intent, you mind, slowly tracing a circle around his nipple along the elegant chest molding his tight tee shirt. It was following the path of a certain tattoo I recall from his days in Egypt. His brow rose.

“What are you about, Riley?”

“Is it still there? The sssssnnnnnnaaaaaake?”

Claudia giggled, dropped her head back on the sofa and kicked her feet. “It was henna, Riles. All faded … all gone. Trust me, I’ve been looking for it too.”

I tugged at his tee shirt hem and he held it down. “Ah … John? Tell her it’s gone.” And he laughed as he danced away to escaped my reach.

“Maybe we can draw it back on?” I asked. “A snake on Antony … a Bear on John …”

“Oh!” squealed Nat, “and a Harley on Maximus!”

“An anchor on Captain Jack,” sighed Claudia.

“That’s it,” John took the wine bottle away. “What the fuck? We all look like stretched canvas to you ladies?”

“Well,” I said slowly, as clearly as I could. “Maybe if we mark you all, none of you will ever disappear again.”

The room went dead quiet and finally Antony broke the uncomfortable silence. “I think we’ll take the cottage, John. Living across the hall might get dangerous if your wife is feeling especially artistic.” The dark mood was broken and I watched him wink at me. Leave it to Antony to know when a woman needs to laugh.

It was a fun evening and I let my hair down. Too bad little Nathan woke a few hours later … the poor baby was one sick puppy.

TERRY

I graciously declined dinner at the Biebe’s. Got a taste of something sweet and good yesterday and wanted another serving, so I drove down to Stowe and knocked on Clari’s door. She lived over a garage behind a house on Maine Street. It was perfect, far enough away to get a little squealing outta her and not alert the local police in the process. She opened the door and gave a coy smile.

“Why …Mr. Thorne? Did you forget something?” her eyes batted playfully.

“Yeah. This.” My mouth dove for hers. We were a good fifteen feet from the bedroom but it was enough time and distance to get naked. Bloody hell, I swear I can’t recall the last time a good root felt so damn satisfying. This sheila was heated to steam and ready before she even let me in the flat. My hand slid between her thighs as we spun like one tangled, embracing animal, toward the bed. She was soaking wet and beggin’. I sucked my fingers and dropped her to the mattress with a bounce.

Granted, working with one good hand has its limitations, but oh the avenues for experimentation. She never acted like I was limited. When I hit a snag and couldn’t quite do what I was thinkin’, she waited patiently for me to figure out another way, never offered to help, never commented one way or another. And this was the real attraction. I bloody hate bein’ fussed over, taken care of like a nipper … corrected or suggested to … especially when there was sex in the fuckin’ scenario. Clari was terrific that way.

I climbed inside her and we rolled over and over until she chose dominance and I conceded. I ain’t no fool, mate. There are times to let the lady take the lead. Besides, with her on top, I could see everything I wanted to see. Her pretty eyes, those bouncing tits, the colorful tattoos usually hidden from view. And … my good fingers could easily reach the prize, twiddle and play, slip and slide and lead the way to the next massive climax. Yeah, watching from below was good. Real bloody good.

But when we got down to the real business of fuckin’ hard and furious, I had her on her back so fast she was blinking. She laughed loud and groaned, grunted right along with me and gave another howl of delight before I finally exploded inside her. Clari was exciting. She was bold and a bit crazy, adventurous and extremely willing to please. An intriguing bundle all wrapped in one quirky looking sheila. And as we caught our breath, I realized I’d most likely never forget the times I get to be with her. I tugged her into a traditional post-coital snuggle as we shared a fag and relaxed.

“When do you leave Vermont?”

And that’s when I knew I truly liked this girl. She had no delusions about anything. She was as emotionally mobile as me … as comfortable and secure … and most likely as lonely as me too. I drew in a breath and a quiet groan. “Three days.”

“How much fucking can we get in over the next three days?”

I lowered my eyes to hers. Shrugged. “Dunno. Care to shoot for a record?”

She grinned and snuggled tighter. “Will that hand give you trouble with your work?”

“Yeah. But, I got another hand, Clari. Years back … when I was training … I had a CO who insisted we take target practice with our left hand until we were spot on accurate. It was tough, but it can be done. Just a matter of re-trainin’, love. I intend to get as good as I ever was.”

She nodded, didn’t look up. “Ter, did you ever think that maybe the injury is nature’s way of keeping you out of harm’s way?”

Time to lighten the convo. I chuckled, lifted the sheets and took a look at my sore exhausted cock, sleeping like a ferret on my thigh. “Darlin’,” I bobbed my brows. “Even in your bed, I’m still in harm’s way.”

She laughed and I liked the sound of it … and I knew I’d miss Clari. Maybe next time I come to the Inn, we could hook up again. But life has a way of twisting and turning on itself. With my luck, next time I step foot in Vermont, Clari will be married to a dairy farmer and have a nipper on the way. Best get what I can while I can. Time to get in and go loud. The sleeping ferret agreed.

JOHN

We were up most of the night with the baby, poor kid probably caught a bug. Needless to say, when the sun came up, that’s when he decided to fall asleep. Me and Riles have a tough day ahead and I think hers is complicated with a hangover. I had to chuckle. She really was half in the bag last night.

As I checked with Marla and watched Kim and Emily step up to the plate and handle the problems a plumbing issue had created, I figured maybe life was back to normal. The managers were managing, the gardener was outside planting flowers, the chefs were cheffing. Normal, right? I was just starting to feel that glow you get when you know your business is humming like a bee hive.

“John?”

I turned, grinned. “Hey, Sheriff Mike. How ya doin’, man?”

“Good. Good to see you back. Everything settled with that family trouble up in Alaska?”

Could hardly hide my grin. “Yup. Everything’s perfect now. What’s up?”

I led him to the breakfast room and we took a small table. The waitress brought coffee but neither of us were looking to eat. Mike actually looked a little nervous.

“Something wrong?”

“Ah, no. No. Is Ben Wade around?”

Hoh man, the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. “Wade? Nope. He took a short trip to Connecticut to see a friend. Can I help you with anything?” What I didn’t ask was the question burning on my tongue. Wade? Wade? What the fuck did he do? I didn’t even wanna imagine why the sheriff was looking for him.

“Know when he’ll be back?”

I shrugged. Who knew anything in Ben Wade’s head? Then I remembered something that might get Mike off this train of thought. “Hey, I heard you’re retiring. Who’s running to replace you?”

“Ah, yeah. It’s kind of a problem. You know John, I been sheriff for twelve years now. I’m really looking forward to settling in Arizona, growing old at the wheel of a giant fucking RV, you know. But I gotta admit, I sorta feel … responsible for this town even though I’m leaving.” He cleared his throat. “Roger Fisher is the only man running.”

I gave a disapproving grunt and he nodded agreement.

“No one else has come forward.”

Shit. I suddenly knew exactly what he was thinking. I was a sheriff for eight years. Hell, I was Sheriff of Mystery, Alaska just a week ago. It was something I was, something I did … but was it something I wanted to do again? Stowe was a quiet enough town, but I kinda like being here at the Inn. Having to be in town everyday, deal with the resorts, the infrastructure committees … well … nah. He was gonna ask me to run, I’d definitely win against Fisher … fuck, nobody liked Roger Fisher … and now, looking at a man who deserved to retire and move to Arizona … I knew I was gonna have to refuse. But how? I really didn’t want to let him down. Mike is a good friend and neighbor. I just … don’t want to be the sheriff of anything but my own apartment.

I cleared my throat. “Ah …”

“Listen John. I need your help. Ever since that attempted bank robbery this town has been buzzing Wade’s name. I’ve tried to talk with him about it but he’s been avoiding me like the plague.”

I bet he has, I thought.

“But I really need to talk with him. I think he knows what I want, knows I’d love to see him run against Fisher and win. Maybe he’s not interested but John, you’ve been a sheriff. You can explain it all to him. Maybe get him to consider it. Fuck,” he grunted and sipped coffee. “He might not have a goddamn choice. There’s talk of a write-in campaign.”

And he looked at me. God sakes. It’s one thing to plan on refusing to run for the office … a completely different thing to learn he never intended on asking me. Wade as sheriff? I just didn’t know. Sure, sure, he was a gregarious kinda guy and everybody loves Wade … and yeah he saved the bank, but I have a few suspicions about that too. Maybe I could redirect Mike’s ideas. “Takes more than a popularity contest to run a town, Mike.”

“Yeah it does. It takes trust … and Stowe trusts Ben Wade.” He leaned close, whispered. “You and I both know what it takes to control a situation like that robbery. Wade shoots like a sharpshooter, handled the robbers and the crowd perfectly and contained the event all in a few short moves. He’s a fucking master and I for one can’t wait to get my hands on his background and training. Here’s the kicker … Ben Wade is so fucking good … he could’ve taken that bank himself right out from under the robbers’ noses … and he didn’t. Don’t underestimate the intelligence of a small town like this. They know who to trust … and they trust Wade. If he’s not the next sheriff of Stowe, we’ve failed this community.”

Huh. Stowe wasn’t as stupid as people think … and neither is Mike. I tend to agree that Ben could have swept every penny from that bank and no one could have stopped him. He’s quick and he’s smarter than the average bear. But … I think Mike’s right on that other point too. This town trusts Ben. Maybe it was time for me to trust him to.

“I’ll talk to him. It’s all I can promise.”

“Appreciate that. And John,” he stood and reached for his hat. “Glad you’re back home.”

“So am I, buddy. So am I.”

NATALIE

Oh, what had I done! My head felt like a herd of wild horses were trapped inside my skull and trying to kick their way out. My tongue felt like sandpaper, my stomach was doing jumping jacks, and my eyes refused to focus properly. I stumbled out of bed, wondering what woke me when I heard the loud wailing coming from the nursery. Grabbing my robe, I rushed to my daughters in their cribs. Both girls were flushed and very warm. Fever.

With two sick babies on my hands and a raging hangover, I certainly could have used Jack’s help, but he was gone. Away to his ship. Typical. I tried cold compresses on their little foreheads and rocked them to sleep, cuddling both close to me. They quieted, but as soon as I put them down, they started wailing again, poor things.

Other than cold compresses, the only specific thing I remembered from parenting class was not to give them aspirin, so I called Claudia for help. But damn-it-to-hell, she was abandoning ship, too. I caught her just as she was leaving on a home nursing emergency in town. She assured me that I was doing everything right and not to worry, but I couldn’t help it. I was more frantic by the second when the doorbell rang and I found beautiful, kind, generous, helpful Antony on my doorstep armed with Baby Tylenol.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “Ah, Natalie … ah … the medication is all I have to offer, my dear.”

“Oh no you don’t. Here. Hold Chelsea while I get the medicine down Catherine’s throat.” It was a massive undertaking and by the time the girls were both dosed and finally sleeping, Antony looked like he needed a nap too.

“Thanks,” I smiled then rubbed my temples.

“I must say,” he commented as he walked toward the door. “That was by far the most barbarian thing a Roman General was ever called upon to do. Claudia will check in with you when she returns. Do get some rest, Natalie.”

What a nice man.

PULLO

We’d spent a few days at the farmhouse, just Valerie and me and for the most part she was having fun playing the royal lady of the vineyard. But this morning she was sluggish getting ready for school and I debated keeping her home, perhaps taking her back to the Inn where she’d be more comfortable. Little Valerie is a real trooper and already had written a list of things we were to do in the kitchen that evening.

I was in the field when my cell phone rang and the school called for me to pick her up. I parked in the lot and went into the office to find her sitting, forlorn and very pale in a chair waiting for me.

“The nurse says she had a bit of a fever, Mr. Pullo,” stated the kind secretary. “Let her rest a few days. Something’s going around, several of the children are home sick today.”

“I got my homework, daddy,” she said and I grinned. In the car I called Claudia who suggested I take her to the pediatrician on East Vermont and Main. It was her regular doctor and he agreed to see her so we sat in the waiting room. I held her little hand and started to worry.

“Valerie,” called the nurse and we were finally taken back for the doctor to take a look at her.

CORY

I swear, me and Daisy were honestly trying to get back to our lives in LA but no matter how hard I tried to feel excited about it, I just couldn’t. It felt like I was being torn in half, just driving away from the Inn.

Hell, I know Daisy was having trouble too. For her it was worse. Yeah, she liked tending bar. Yeah, she liked Los Angeles. Yeah, she still had plans to get her PhD at USC. But all she talked about for hours was Stowe. The mountains, the town, the people, the family at the Inn and everything that happened there. I almost wished she’d shut the fuck up … we hadn’t even made it to our connection in Chicago and I was already fucking homesick! Homesick for Vermont? Explain that.

At O’Hare we had a three hour layover. We found an open bar and ordered a drink, thought about eating but didn’t find anything we wanted on the menu.

“Did you ever taste Chef Chris’ clam chowder?”

I turned a glare. “You asked me that three times today. Why didn’t you just order a quart of the stuff and bring it with us?”

“If I’d have thought of it, I’d have ordered everything and brought it with us. Ain’t possible though.” She shrugged and sipped her beer. “Guess sometimes you just gotta leave things behind.”

“Why’d you say that, Daisy? Leave things behind? Behind for you and me is LA. We’re two of the few original Los Angelinos, born and bread to drive the 405 and work in Hollywood.”

“Okay, sport. Let’s lay it all on the line here. My answer is simple. I feel no connection with California. Feel no connection anyplace … except the place we just left. Truth?”

She raised her brows and I nodded.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that you have a job producing ‘The Ghost is Inn’, I wouldn’t be going back. I’d still be sitting on that damn quaint porch swing and trying to convince you to stay in Vermont with me. Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re thinking. Big city girl goes country bumpkin. But I fucking love everything about that place. I fucking love your family. I’ve never seen people pull together like that. It … I dunno … really touched me.”

“You don’t wanna go back?”

“Hell no.”

“Okay,” I waved for another beer. “Then we won’t go back.” I kissed her mad and hard and we laughed for a minute. Then I think it all hit me like a brick. “Uh … Daisy?”

“Yeah?”

“Now what are we gonna do?”

“No clue. I’m hoping Biebe gives me that bartender job.”

“Uh … Daisy?”

“What?”

“We’re getting the next flight to Burlington and you are gonna have to support me for a while. I kinda doubt they make shows like mine in Vermont.”

Daisy grinned. “Does this mean you’re my bitch?”

WADE

The drive back from Hartford was damn hell. Needless to say, nothing I did or said was going to get Tracy back and I felt this hole in the pit of my gut.

When I first arrived all I could do was hope. I had no idea what I was gonna say, so when that old woman answered the door I stood there, blinking like an idiot. She stared at me for a few minutes then waved me inside.

“You gotta be Ben Wade.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself, you know.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You broke Tracy’s heart, young man. My granddaughter is a tough egg … and you managed to break her.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am.”

She took paper and drew a map for me. Handing it over she finally smiled. “Now, you go get her. Don’t you give up, now. I’ve never seen a woman so much in love. But I swear to you, you break her heart again and I’ll track you down, Ben Wade.”

Another hard swallow. “Yes, ma’am.”

I followed the map right to that hair fixing shop where she works. Stood inside the door and looked around for her. She was busy, standing behind a woman and rolling curls into hair that looked like golden silk. When I went to talk to her, a man tried to stop me.

“Do you have an appointment, sir?”

“I just wanna talk to Tracy,” I kept walking and he actually gripped my elbow. One look and he released me. I went to Tracy who was now acting like she didn’t know I was there. “I wanna talk to you.”

“Make an appointment. I’m busy.”

“Tracy, just fuckin’ talk to me, will ya?”

Finally she gave me one of her glares and led me to the back room where another woman was mixing something in a bowl that stunk to high heaven. I ignored the smell and looked into Tracy’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? What do you have to be sorry about? You’re a free man, I’m a free woman. So we fucked a few times, big deal.”

“I never fucked you. I loved ya, darling. You know that.” I shot a glare at the chemist and she scooted out of the room. “Just talk to me,” I groaned.

“What do you want, Ben?”

That I could answer. “I want you back.”

“What? For the weekends? A Saturday screw that leaves you to do whatever you like during the week. No thanks. Been there. Done that. Didn’t like it one … damn … bit,” she hissed.

“No. I want you back, Tracy. I want to come back to Vermont with me. I … I fuckin’ need you, sweetheart.”

She blinked and I thought for a minute I was getting through to her. Hell, if it was my time, she’d have already been going back with me. Kicking and screaming, but she’d be going back with me. I waited and I watched her eyes and her heart get real hard. Felt my own heart drop too.

“No thanks.” And she left.

What else could I do? I asked. I begged. I told her how I feel. Time for me to go back to Vermont and decide what the hell to do next. Arrived late that evening and sat in the parking lot for a long time. Fuck. What the hell reason did I have for staying in Vermont now?

HANDO

So fuckin’ much to do at the garage now with Colin back on the NASCAR circuit. My main concern was getting a back-up engine to his next race. I had to build the thing myself. For some bloody reason, no one can figure the damn thing out. I designed it, showed them everything but the ninnies still can’t get it right. No worries, I’m fast with my hands. So fast I was ahead of schedule by noon and decided to go home for some tucker.

When I got there Mere threw her arms around me like I was the second coming. For a minute, I thought I was maybe gonna get a little somethin’. But as it turned out, I wasn’t even gettin’ a hot lunch. She needed to run out and do some errands and Ruthie was sound asleep. Yeah, fuckin’ freaky, Ruthie sleeping before midnight. Either way, my showin’ up gave M a chance to do her thing so I shrugged, made a ham sandwich and turned on the telly.

Twenty minutes later, that freaky feeling got worse. Was Ruthie really sleeping, or was she up to something? Maybe organizing a takeover of the free world? Wouldn’t put it past that little sheila. So I walked on stocking feet, real quiet down the hall to her room and peaked inside. No international uprising in there, just a sleeping little girl and I moved closer to her bed.

This was not normal. Granted, I’m not home all day everyday with Ruthie, but I do know her activity patterns and energy level … trust me, they far surpass mine or Mere’s. Could it be that our daughter had hit the wall? Fuck, if so, she might sleep a month before she regains her normal velocity. But as I got closer, I could see her cheeks were kinda flushed. The rest of her little face, all scary peaceful like that, looked kinda pale. I touched her forehead and almost pulled my hand away, she was so hot.

Almost immediately she woke up with a howl and I thought maybe I scared her. She reached up and climbed into my arms and cried. Nothin’ I did calmed her down. Then she puked all over me.

Okay, by this point I’m way fuckin’ outta my level. I don’t know what the fuck to do. I’m covered with vomit, she’s covered with vomit. I filled the tub with some warm water and stood her in it. She screamed louder but I was figuring the water might help the fever while it washed away the stench.

I finally got her and me cleaned up and put her into her pajamas but she was still crying like something hurt. That was it, I’d reached my limit. I called Mere.

“Can’t I get away for an hour without all hell breaking loose? What did she do now?” My wife groaned.

“M, she’s sick. Real sick. Got a fever.”

“How high?”

“Huh?”

“Take her temperature, Hando! Sheesh.”

“Fuck no. I ain’t sticking that thermometer in her –”

“Alright, alright, alright. I’ll be home in ten minutes, just let me pick up some Baby Tylenol. Hang in there Skin.”

Ruthie calmed down the minute Mere walked in the bloody door … making me look like a damn liar. She was quiet while Mere took her temperature. Me, I was pacing across the room.

“I think something hurts her.”

“Does your tummy hurt Ruthie?” Well fuck, why didn’t I think to just ask?

Ruthie shook her head. “My head hurts, mommy.”

“Okay, will you take some medicine for me? It’ll make your head feel better.”

She opened her mouth wide, swallowed the pink goop and snuggled back into her bed.

Mere smiled down at the kid then at me.  “Daddies are good for shit when it comes to stuff like this, honey.”

“Good for shit,” Ruthie repeated then drifted off to sleep.

“You call the doctor. Call me and tell me what he says. I’ll be back around three.” Fuck all, I really didn’t wanna go back and finish the engine but I had to. Seeing the dynamo that is Ruthie taken down like that … it just ain’t right. It just ain’t right.