Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
JD
She seems nice.
A total contrast to my sister—who shares my dark coloring—her fiancée, Rachel, is a true California blonde. She’s very pretty and smiles a lot, most of the time aimed at Una. It’s clear the woman adores my sister, who seems nervous.
“What kinds of apples do you grow?” Janey asks, twisted around in the passenger seat so she can look at her.
“A lot of varieties: Fuji, Granny Smith, Pink Lady, Gala, Jazz, Honey Crisp, Braeburn.”
“Honey Crisp and Jazz apples are my favorites,” Janey shares. “My mouth waters just thinking of them.”
“Harvest will be in full swing by next week and runs well into November. I’ll ship you a crate.”
That’s right too. I hadn’t realized we’re coming into what is probably the busiest time of year for Rachel, who owns an orchard.
“You don’t have to do that,” Janey protests.
“But I want to. I ship out a lot. It’s part of my business. During harvest months I send out gift boxes with a selection of apples all over the U.S.”
“Like jelly of the month,” Una explains. “Except only for three months. It’s been growing in popularity like crazy.”
I glance in the rearview mirror and catch a glimpse of my sister, who looks at Rachel with pride. It’s a different side of her. Una has always been such a prominent presence in our family, the center of attention, but here I can see her happily standing on the sidelines, shining a spotlight on her partner.
I hope Ma and Pa get a chance to see her like this as well; happy and in love. It’s as obvious as the look on her face.
“Do you favor one apple over another?” Rachel draws me into the conversation.
“I like apples. I’m not a fan of mealy ones, but I like them crisp and juicy. That’s all I know,” I admit.
“My brother is the least label-conscious person you’ll meet,” Una shares on my behalf. “If he hadn’t picked Janey, I’d say he has no taste at all. I want to bet he doesn’t even know the brand of clothes he wears.”
“My jeans are Wrangler, which is all I need to know,” I fire back.
“Don’t all cowboys wear those?” Rachel wants to know.
“All self-respecting ones,” Janey contributes.
“Damn right,” I mutter under my breath.
When I pull into the driveway of my parents’ place, I can almost feel the tension in the back of the truck rising.
“It’ll be fine,” I tell my sister, catching her eyes in the rearview mirror as I pull up to the house.
Ma and Una have apparently talked quite regularly this past month, and I’m guessing our mother pushed for this visit. I think my sister might’ve preferred holding off a little longer, but this weekend was the last chance before Rachel’s business would tie her up for the next few months.
Ma seems to have mellowed a bit with both her kids in serious relationships. I know she loves Janey and I have no doubt she’s going to love Rachel as well. Ma has a healthy appreciation for strong, independent women.
It’s harder to get a read on our father, but I’m guessing as long as his kids and his wife are happy, he’s happy. Love is not a word that he uses often, if at all, but we can feel it.
While Janey and I grab the bags from the back of the truck, Ma is already folding Una in a bone-crushing hug on the front step, with Rachel looking on. Then my mother hands my sister off to Pa, and turns to Rachel.
“So,” I hear her say in a stern voice, “you’re the one who wants to marry my daughter?”
I hold my breath as both Janey and I rush to flank Rachel on each side, just in case. But the pretty woman does not intimidate easily. She lifts her chin, which gains her maybe another half an inch on her petite frame.
“Yes, I am,” she states without even blinking. “Next spring at the orchard.”
Ma nods, but her face remains impassive.
“Are you gonna make me wear a damn dress?” she snaps, one threatening eyebrow raised.
Rachel bursts out laughing, and immediately returns, “You can wear whatever the hell you want, as long as you show up.”
That earns her a barely-there smile. “Fair enough.”
“Can we get off the damn porch already?” Pa grumbles.
With Rachel having passed Ma’s scrutiny, she’s waved inside and everyone else follows behind.
Janey and I are last, but she stops me in the entranceway, placing her hand on my chest and smiling up in my face.
“I love your family.”
Janey
“Who was that?” JD asks when I join him in the barn.
He’s already got Sterling saddled and is working on Red, who is still a little skittish, despite the work JD did with him the past two weekends.
I got waylaid by a phone call just as we were leaving the house so he went ahead.
“Special Agent Shane Wilcox.”
“Really? How is he doing?”
Wilcox is the agent who got shot by Mackey, two months ago.
“He’s doing well, he called to let us know an arrest warrant has been issued for Osborn Senior.”
As expected, the councilman ended up resigning from office last month, and since then, he and his wife disappeared off the radar.
“Apparently, the charges against him are for his involvement in his son’s murder spree. I think he said aiding and abetting, obstruction of justice, and accessory after the fact. According to Wilcox, David Osborn stands to face a long time behind bars.”
JD hands Sterling’s reins to me, and leads Red out of the barn. Sterling is a good girl, and stands perfectly still while I mount, but Red twists and turns, trying to make it difficult for JD to get in the saddle. He bucks half-heartedly when he feels the weight on his back, but JD controls him quite easily and motions for me to go ahead and take the lead.
We steer the horses on a trail that runs into the woods at the back of my property. We discovered it a few weeks ago when we took Ginger—who is fully recovered and loves her exercise—for a long walk. We picked today to pack a lunch and go exploring.
“What about the drug smuggling? Is Kramer still working on that angle?” JD asks from behind me.
“Actually, it sounds like Wilcox has taken over the lead on both cases,” I share.
I was a little hurt to have to find that out from him, since Stephanie and I had been in touch over the past few months. When she’d come to town we’d try to meet up over coffee or a meal, and we shared quite a few phone calls. I would’ve thought she’d be the one to tell me something like that.
“He said Stephanie took a leave of absence.”
“Really? Seems odd to walk out on two big cases like that. And didn’t you talk to her just last week?” JD reminds me.
“Yeah, I know. Anyway, Shane didn’t know or didn’t want to tell me what was going on. I tried calling her after I hung up with him, got bumped straight to her voicemail, but apparently the inbox is full. I can’t even leave her a message.”
“Maybe she needed a break. Took a vacation,” JD suggests. “I’m sure she’ll be in touch.”
I suppose it’s possible, and I hope he’s right, she’ll get in touch at some point, but I shouldn’t let it spoil the ride. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.
It feels good, breathing in the fresh fall air. We’re far enough from the road, you can’t even hear traffic noise anymore, just the horses’ footfalls and the sounds of nature.
This is not something I would’ve ever done before meeting JD, taking time for recreational purposes. I’ve always been all work and no play. Not that it was a hardship at all, I love my job, but there’s something to say for taking an occasional day off and doing something for the sole purpose of nourishing your soul.
So I’m capitalizing on the fact Frankie helped me find Suzie Wong, a veterinary technician with a new baby. She wants to work part-time hours for a few years, which works out perfectly for me, since I don’t yet have the money for another full-time employee.
I take in my surroundings, occasionally turning my head to point something out to JD or shoot him a smile, as Sterling sets a steady pace up to where the trees grow a little more sparse.
“Let’s stop up on that ridge,” JD suggests, pointing out a rocky ledge that should offer a nice view of the valley.
We tie the horses to a tree, and JD grabs the backpack he stuffed into Sterling’s saddle bag, before we climb the remaining distance to the rocky outcropping. The view from here is amazing. Your eye skips over the busier valley and goes straight for the mountains on the other side. The fall colors are stunning. Maybe not as famous as the ones in the New England states, but no less beautiful.
It’s warm for an early October day. I shrug out of my jacket I needed in the shade of the trees, but not sitting here on this rock in the sun. I lean back against JD, whose legs bracket mine.
I’m enjoying the silence we share. Every so often he feeds me a bite of cheese, or a piece of those delicious Honey Crisp apples Rachel sent us last week. It feels utterly indulgent and blissfully relaxing.
Then suddenly, JD’s hand appears in front of my face, instead of food dangling a silver chain with a gorgeously intricate, turquoise-and-silver pendant.
“It’s not safe to wear a ring when you’re working,” he says softly by my ear. “But it would be an honor if you would wear this on your heart, as a sign of my love for you. My shield on your heart and my promise to keep it safe forever.”
I tilt my head back and look up to see the love in his eyes.
“The honor is all mine.”