Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
“ L ove you too.” Jane hung up the phone.
She always loved talking to her mom and missed her a lot. Her parents were planning on coming up for Thanksgiving, as well as her stepsister Grace, her husband and their three boys. Grace was a journalist in Black Pointe, Florida, while her husband, Luke McBride, was a former detective but now worked in security protection at KnightGuard Security. It would be fun to pick his brain for ideas if she ever decided to write again.
Tonight, Jane was having a group of her new friends over to the farm. Leah was coming, as well as Claire, Emily, Lily and Olivia Metcalf, who was a journalist at the Beaver Creek News. She wished Savannah was here, but she promised to come down the next weekend.
One thing Jane missed was having girlfriends at her house. She used to entertain a lot in Boston, usually with friends of both Mike and her and family.
Every month, a group of her friends, including Savannah, a couple of women authors, a landscape designer, a teacher and a barista, would meet to catch up. Some of the women she’d known for years; a couple were recent additions. It was always potluck, and they’d eat, talk, drink wine and laugh. Jane loved to laugh. Although Savannah was a frequent visitor to the farm, she kept in touch with the others, who had promised they’d visit. But an occasional visit here and there didn’t compare with a monthly get-together.
Jane dressed and walked down to the barn to help Bucky with some chores. She looked down at herself and had to laugh. Today she wore an insulated green waxed jacket; a pair of green wellies, aka barn boots, she found at a thrift shop; a cap; and jeans, looking every inch a gentleman, well, woman farmer. It would be hard for Savannah not to tease her since Jane had given her a hard time about buying out Orvis.
Jane inhaled the crisp, cold air. It was almost the beginning of October, and fall came early this year.
Bucky!
They’d found the diary, and she’d pretended not to see the tears dripping from his eyes. She hadn’t asked him if she could read it—too personal—however, she felt thrilled Bucky could find some closure and that he didn’t have to hide his past from her. Jane also learned more about Mike that day and thought how lucky it was she’d found such a remarkable man. She only wished Mike had confided more about his past with her.
Everything was going well.
No recent nocturnal visits from unknown visitors. The farm was flourishing, and the greenhouse was filled with seedlings ready for spring. Nothing came of the note—at least, not yet. Jane desperately hoped it wasn’t meant for her, but that was silly. She knew that wasn’t true.
The sheriff’s department hadn’t found Thornton’s killer yet. She’d seen Ethan a couple of times since her meeting with Vanessa, just to say hi. He hadn’t said much, just that the investigation was ongoing. But the best news of all: Victor had called, asking her to dinner.
After her visit with Vanessa, Jane had contemplated visiting Jim Jenkins or Annabelle, but Ethan not too subtly warned her off. Subtle, hell—he threatened to take her down to the station. That didn’t scare her, not that he could do anything about it if she had, but she was busy and wanted him to find the killer.
However, she thought it best not to poke the bear. And Ethan was a big, grumpy bear. She’d love to see him cut loose..
“Hey Jane, how’s it going?” asked Bucky. He was feeding the chickens scraps she saved.
“It’s all good,” she replied. “Can’t ask any more than that.”
“True.” He scratched his head. “I fixed a break in the electric fence. Some of the sheep were trying to get out.”
Not again. Having animals meant being aware of everything all the time. If they sensed a weakness in a fence, they were out. She didn’t want to have to chase them again. Her neighbors already had one good laugh at the newbie.
“How did it break?” she asked.
“Oh, they kept leaning against the fence, pushing it out and trampling it down. With all the wool they’re wearing, they probably didn’t feel a thing.” He laughed.
“Hmmm. Well, come spring, they won’t have those wool coats.”
Springtime was lambing season, and a shearer would come to trim their nails and shear the wool. This year would be the first time for her flock, since they were sheared when she bought them. Jane thought she’d send the wool off to a woolen mill who would clean and card it. The mill would dye the wool for knitting or make blankets out of it, which would be a nice addition for the farm, and knitting would give her another hobby to make the days go by.
“Would you mind grabbing me some eggs while I water the plants in the greenhouse?” Jane asked. Fresh eggs were the best, but she hated sneaking into the henhouse and tiptoeing around Rocky. He always sensed her fear and pecked at her feet.
Bucky laughed. “Not feeling up to challenging Rocky today?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Nope.”
Jane headed into the greenhouse, watered the plants, and walked back to the farmhouse. Time to get going on a shepherd’s pie she was making for the potluck, the green salad and a caramel pear pie with pears she picked from a local farm. She picked up a piece of cheddar from the local creamery as well as a log of goat cheese made by her new friends at Goats R Us. Marj and Pete owned the goatery outside town and were most welcoming when she stopped by. She even got to play with the kids, who nibbled on her pants and jumped around, entertaining her.
She looked at her watch. Dang, the time was flying by. She needed to get over to the house and start cooking.
Bucky was nowhere to be found when she left the greenhouse. He’d told her he planned on checking the fence in the back pasture but would drop off the eggs.
“Knock, knock,” called out a woman’s voice. Jane was in the kitchen taking the shepherd’s pie out of the oven and looked up to see Lily arriving, platter in hand.
“I brought an autumn harvest salad,” Lily said.
Jane looked at the slices of golden squash, deep green kale and bright pomegranate seeds. “Yum. Place it on the table.”
They spent a few minutes catching up until they heard several other voices.
Claire and Emily walked in, followed by Olivia and Leah. They hung their coats on the hooks in the front hall.
After exchanging hugs and kisses, they followed Jane into the living room, where she had a fire going.
“I love this room,” exclaimed Emily. “It’s so you.”
Jane glanced around. “Thanks.”
The room was painted a light beige and featured two off-white love seats with a large square wooden coffee table between them, and two darker brown side chairs faced the fireplace with another chair next to it. She had Clarence build up the original fireplace with a wooden mantle and stone surround, making it the focal point in the room. Wooden ceiling beams made the room cozy. Built-in bookcases flanked either side of the fireplace, and large paned windows lined another wall. She incorporated an Oriental rug on the floor in deep red she brought from her condo in Boston. A few tossed pillows spruced up the sofas. A watercolor scene of the farm painted by Savannah hung over the fireplace. Collages of cows, goats and pigs were scattered around the walls. A few green potted plants were dispersed on the tables. It was a warm and welcoming room, and she loved it.
“The ham and cheese sliders are in the kitchen,” Emily said. “If the oven is warm, we can heat them up.”
Olivia sniffed the air. “It smells wonderful in here. I brought my famous date bars.”
“Yeah, I love those,” said Claire. “I stopped at the bakery and got several loaves of bread.” She furrowed her brow. “I couldn’t decide, so I got a walnut cranberry, a rosemary garlic, and Leah, because I know you love them, a focaccia with black olives and sun-dried tomatoes.”
“Love you too.” Leah smiled. “I’ll go open the wine I brought and bring it out.” She looked at Jane. “Where do you keep the wineglasses?”
“Let me come with you. I’ll bring out the cheese board.” Jane walked toward the kitchen. “Everyone, grab a seat. We’ll be right back.”
Jane bustled around the kitchen, getting out the new dual-handled black walnut wooden board that Clarence had gifted her. The man was exceptionally talented.
She sliced some of the cheddar and placed it along with the log of goat cheese she bought. Earlier, she had sliced some salami and filled small bowls with almonds, black olives and paté. A few crackers and grissini, a couple of sprigs of rosemary, and voilà.
“Wow, that looks like something Martha Stewart would make,” gushed Leah.
Jane blushed. “Coming from you, that’s a real compliment.”
“Pffft.” Leah held up her hand and smiled.
They carried the cheese board, wine bottles and glasses out to the living room, where Jane caught the end of a conversation that sounded like they were discussing Thornton’s death.
“So, I heard the sheriff spoke to his daughter and Jim Jenkins,” said Olivia.
“Oh?” Jane wondered how much the journalist knew. Olivia was known for being highly focused and had a lot of contacts. Had Ethan found out any more information? Maybe she should drop in and ask. “Do you know if he found out anything new?”
Olivia shrugged. “It’s a small town. Right now, he’s keeping it tight to his vest, but you know how rumors go.”
Yeah. Jane nodded. She knew.
As a newcomer to Beaver Creek, she knew people had questions about her, and if they didn’t know the answer, they made one up.
“Was he able to interview Annabelle Clarke?” Jane asked.
“Annabelle! Sheesh,” exclaimed Emily with an eye roll.
Jane tilted her head. “What’s wrong with Annabelle?”
Emily shook her head. “The woman always wants what someone else has. I’m not talking out of turn either. Just a couple of months ago, she came into the spa one day and demanded that I give her the same spa treatment I gave Vanessa because she was her cousin. Vanessa had provided cookies and bars for our open house and wouldn’t take any money for them. So I gave her a morning treatment.”
“Sounds like Annabelle,” said Claire.
“I heard she went after David because Vanessa was dating him. Then, when she finally got him, she found someone else who’d come into town and dropped David like a hot potato,” said Claire.
“Who is she seeing now?” asked Lily.
Claire raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know. Although I heard it was some big shot who’s new to town. But she dumped him already. Frankly, I couldn’t care less.”
Emily reached over and touched Claire’s arm. “Annabelle and Claire go way back. Annabelle hated her for being crowned homecoming queen at high school graduation. She was runner up.”
The women groaned in unison. “Gosh, we all know someone like that,” said Lily.
Jane forced a small smile, but she didn’t. Maybe she was too optimistic, too trusting, too much into her close friends, but she didn’t remember knowing anyone who was so mean. But then again, she was too wrapped up in her own world, dating Mike and writing to notice. So, who knew?