Chapter 17 #2
She sat still for a minute, processing the information.
Her mind was already racing, pulling at it, but underneath the movement was something that felt like the floor shifting.
She’d already suspected Ashley and Robert were in contact.
She’d suspected they were working together, coordinating, each serving the other’s agenda.
That was one thing. That was calculable.
But what Emma and Richard were suggesting was something else entirely.
She cleared her throat. “How long do you think they’ve known each other? Could you tell?”
Emma shook her head slowly. “I couldn’t say for sure, but let’s just say they knew each other well.
That’s the best way I can explain it. There was no awkwardness, like two people still trying to find their footing.
They seemed much more…settled. Like people who have been meeting that way for a while. ”
“Did they see you?”
“No. We were on the other side of the room. They weren’t paying attention to anyone else, and I doubt they would’ve recognized us anyway.” After a small, significant pause, Richard added, “They were very focused on each other.”
Jewel looked down at the table. What was Ashley really up to?
She’d portrayed herself as Vivian’s fierce, grieving defender.
She’d pushed, questioned, and inserted herself at every turn.
She’d stood across a coffee shop table three days ago and denied knowing Robert with such flat, immediate certainty.
Ashley’s words still echoed in her mind. “I owe it to her to find out what really happened to my friend.”
How many of those conversations had gone directly back to Robert? How much of what she shared with Ashley, the threads she followed, the confidences about her marriage, the hurts—how much of it had been taken straight to him in whatever corner booth they chose that week?
“Are you all right?” Emma watched her with quiet, steady concern.
“I’m just thinking.”
“Take your time.”
She looked up. “Did you hear anything? Any of their conversation?”
“Only a little, when we were leaving. We passed close to their table. She said something about things taking longer than expected. And he said…” Emma paused, her face scrunching like she wasn’t sure if she should repeat it.
“What did he say?”
“He said, she’s more stubborn than I realized. But she’ll give in eventually. And then he laughed.” Emma held her gaze steadily. “I didn’t know who he was talking about at the time, but I think I do now.”
She thought about Ashley’s face at the coffee shop, how the warmth had completely faded from it when Sylvie asked her about Robert. She remembered her grabbing her bag, clenching her righteous anger, and storming out. It was all just a performance.
And she thought of Robert, in a corner booth in Syracuse, laughing.
She’ll break.
Jewel realized her hands were clenched around her water bottle, while Emma and Richard patiently watched her with worried faces. They had said what they needed to say and were now waiting to see what she would do next.
She exhaled slowly. “Thank you. Both of you. I mean that.”
Emma was twisting her napkin nervously. “We didn’t know if it was our place. But Richard said—”
Richard cut in. “I said you looked like someone who needed the pieces. All of them, even the hard ones.”
She looked at them, this couple who returned every year to ride the same trail and see the same mountains, and felt something move within her that wasn’t quite gratitude nor grief, but something in between.
“You’re very right about that.”
Emma reached across the table, resting her hand over Jewel’s for a moment. Then she picked up her coffee. “Now, tell me about that mare of yours. Because what I saw on that trail today was something quite special, and I want to know everything about how you’ve trained her.”
For a while, she managed to keep up her end of the conversation, but she was finding it difficult to concentrate. Finally, Emma suggested that Jewel check on the horses while she and Richard stayed back a bit to visit with some old acquaintances.
Jewel suspected that Emma knew she needed some time alone, and as she excused herself, she gave the woman a grateful hug, leaving them to their coffee and the relaxed afternoon.
She walked toward the trailer area without really paying attention to her surroundings, needing to move and think before she did anything else.
She’d only gotten about halfway there when a hand closed around her arm from behind.
It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t tentative, either.
She turned around quickly, only to find Ashley closer than necessary, her yellow volunteer vest slightly askew, her expression bare and unfiltered from what it had been at the ribbon table.
There was no warmth, no performance. Just something urgent and unguarded that she hadn’t shown before.
“I need to talk to you.” It came out low and quick, her eyes flicking briefly to the lunch tables behind them and back. “But not here. Not like this. I need you to hear what I have to say before you do whatever you’re planning to do next.”
She looked at Ashley’s hand on her arm. Then at her face. “All right.”
Ashley held her gaze for a moment, an expression moving through her face that looked, unexpectedly, like fear.
“Not today. Tomorrow. Meet me at the start of Frost Pocket.” She released her arm and stepped back, already composing herself for the crowd behind them.
“Please.” The word came out quietly enough that it was almost lost in the noise of the clearing.