Chapter 2
What was it about people that rubbed you the wrong way upon sight? Annette slumped in her seat, coming to terms with the startling news that she and Gabrielle would be spending quality time with this…uh, person behind the wheel.
Of course, this situation they were in wasn’t about her feelings or discomfort, she reminded herself, sitting up straight. Sophie was coping with some serious problems. It was understandable, but not pleasant to think they would have to stay with Jeff. She felt herself seethe with dislike for the man. Although, none of it was his fault, she grudgingly admitted. However, her feelings weren’t entirely unwarranted. He’d been short and unfriendly, in fact bordering on rude since the moment he’d laid eyes on them.
Well, maybe not toward Gabrielle. But no one could be angry with Gabrielle. She was beautiful with a disposition to match. As the two occupants of the front seat continued to discuss the grim state of affairs on the ranch, Annette gazed admiringly at her sister from the seclusion of the back of the cab. Gabrielle’s eyes were so brown they were almost black, her thick sweep of dark lashes fanned a porcelain complexion, and the natural ruby-red of her full lips was striking. All these attributes conspired to turn men’s heads and always had since they were young.
Annette wasn’t jealous. She was proud of her lovely sister. But sometimes it was hard to have a beautiful sister. She herself was plain and uninteresting by comparison. At least she didn’t have to wear glasses any longer, since the laser eye surgery. Though it really didn’t make much of a difference. Her sense of fashion, long curly hair, and artistic talents were the only assets she possessed. She thought of all her lovely clothes lying on the bed back home in Paris. What a shame they were left there without her. Never mind, she would comfort herself with knowledge of the pretty lilac outfit tucked away in her bag. At least it had made the trip.
She turned her thoughts to the rigid back of the man seated in front of her. What had she done to deserve his annoyance? It had been evident in his every word and gesture since the moment they met. Perhaps he was naturally unpleasant. She would avoid him…but that was going to be harder than it sounded, considering they were staying at his house.
Annette groaned inwardly. Ugh! This was not good. Not good at all.
The powerful beast of a truck ate up the kilometers with a low growl of its diesel engine. Before long they were out of the city and speeding toward the mountains on a busy highway. Ahead of them, a hazy blue ridge of mountains rose in the distance, just under a bank of cloud. The Rockies promised tranquility and beauty, Gabrielle had spoken so lovingly of them both. Annette edged as far to the center of the seat as she could, where she could get a better view, and wished she’d been able to bring her paints. The landscape was already inspiring her. She was glad to be finished with her studies. Despite that four years at Beaux-Arts de Paris had left her wanting to put her own artistic stamp on the world.
Jeff slowed, signalled right, and they turned onto a road covered in coarse, grey rock. Clouds of choking dust billowed behind them, but a storm swirled overhead. A few drops of rain began to hit the windscreen, promising to settle the dust.
Annette took in the rolling green hills that appeared to have no end. Occasionally she saw cattle grazing, but mostly nothing except vast open spaces bordered by the occasional barb-wire fence. Each field stretched like an adjoining, perfectly fitted carpet that disappeared over the hills.
The truck roared past fields of lush, emerald-green crops and tall fronds of sea-foam grass that rippled in the breeze like waves across the Mediterranean. She assumed it would be cut for feed, but wasn’t entirely sure. She’d grown up in the city of Toulouse, in the southwest of France, and the only time she spent in the country was in passing through it on her way to somewhere else. The scenery was lovely though, and her heart lightened just from the sheer pleasure of looking at it.
The road carried along, for perhaps a half hour before they turned onto a narrower gravel track that led over a tall rise out of sight. Over the entrance a huge slab of weathered wood was suspended by chains from two stout logs that rose high in the air. On the wooden sign were carved the words, Douglas Ranch.
It was still a long, winding drive until they mounted a hill and looked across a sweeping valley to the buildings nestled against another rise. Seemingly, not far away, the fitful peaks of the Rocky Mountains disappeared into the looming clouds.
A massive log home drew the eye to where it backed into a stand of dark fir trees. It was two-storied and broad, with high windows that jutted to a peak in the center. Two verandas on the upper level, one on either side of the center peak, projected out from glass doors. She could see chairs for the occupants of those rooms to enjoy a fantastic view on warm summer nights. The lower veranda, on the bottom floor, ran the whole length of the structure.
A neatly trimmed expanse of lawn rolled gently down a rise at the front of the home, and bordering it was a stout, wooden-plank fence. Flowers bloomed in profusion from long boxes that hung along the fence. Small shrubs and what appeared to be perennials flourished just under the deck at the front.
On the right hand side behind the house, corrals could be seen built with metal poles. Each area was fitted with a brick-coloured shed to house animals during the harsh winters Gabrielle had told her about. Then, like a beacon, an enormous red barn rose in the background. And all of it was set against the ridge of towering, snow-capped peaks.
“Your home is beautiful, Jeff,” Gabrielle noted. She twisted in her seat to see her sister’s reaction. “Now you know why I wanted to bring you ‘ere. Sophie’s ranch is just as spectacular. Imagine living in this place.”
“It’s gorgeous and I am imagining it. I’d love to live here,” Annette breathed, then suddenly realized what she’d said. “Uh, I mean…” she hastily corrected herself, “not specifically living here…with you. I meant this area…not this exact place.” She could feel her face growing hot and fell back against the seat feeling stupid.
“I knew what you meant,” Jeff said without even a trace of humour. “My grandfather always called it his ‘little patch of heaven’ which sums it up about right. Although the buildings have changed quite a bit since his father first arrived here in the early 1900’s, the land remains the same. It will always be part of who I am,” he explained.
Maybe the man wasn’t such a cold rock after all, she thought curiously, considering his last statement. Annette slid sideways to lean on the two suitcases beside her for a better view out the other window.
It didn’t matter that grey clouds hung overhead. Somehow they only added to the magical ambiance of the scene. In any case, they had parted enough for her to see into the distance. Although the mountains looked close, due to their size, she was aware of the acres and acres of huge rolling hills between the ranch house and them. It was idyllic. Exhaling with rapture, she leaned forward and touched Gabrielle’s arm.
“Thank you for bringing me to Canada,” she breathed. “And thank you Jeff, for your…uh, generous ‘ospitality.” She stumbled over the correct English phrase to use in the end. Only realizing that the awkward moment made her words sound sarcastic rather than politely grateful, as she’d meant them.
Jeff stiffened. “You’re…welcome,” he responded in kind.
Annette’s stomach curled. Great. She’d offended him again.
He stopped the truck in front of the house. In one fluid movement he jumped out and opened her door before striding around the other side to do the same for Gabrielle. He then busied himself with retrieving their luggage from the back seat.
Annette was glad he hadn’t tried to help her climb down. She would have felt worse than she did already, but it was too late to explain her error. Instead, she bypassed the step, and slid from her seat to the gravel driveway.
Rain was beginning in earnest now. A crack of thunder split the air, causing her to jump. Zipping up her jacket she followed the others up a flight of steps to underneath the roof of the deck. Jeff was already at the heavy wooden door with a suitcase in each hand. He tucked one bag under his arm, turned the door handle, and kicked it open wide.
“Why did you say it like that?” Gabrielle whispered in French. She frowned at her sister, as they followed their host inside.
Annette grimaced and shook her head, then quickly plastered a smile on her face as Jeff turned to look at them.
“I’ll show you to your bedrooms right away,” he declared, with a face devoid of emotion. “I’m sure it’s been a long day for you both and you might want to wash your face or something.” Still gripping their bags, he whirled away and set off across the large room toward a staircase in the far corner.
Gabrielle followed immediately, while Annette lingered to gape in awe at the living room. She’d only ever seen homes like this in photographs, or in movies, but never thought she’d stand in one. It looked as though everything in the room was made from monstrous, fawn-coloured logs, apart from one wall. Stones were inlaid to create a dramatic fireplace with a broad hearth and a good supply of kindling lying in wait.
Windows stretched up to the cathedral ceiling, following the triangular shape of the center peak and letting in natural light despite the darkness of the storm outside. Moving further into the room, she realized that the same sort of windows was mirrored on the other side of the home, offering a dazzling view of the mountains.
“Oh la la,” she marvelled. “C”est magnifique.”
“Coming?” her sister called, and Annette made her legs move in the direction of her voice, still trying to take in the surroundings. Of course, not quite everything was made of logs. She brushed past several plush leather sofas in a lovely caramel colour, a contemporary glass and metal coffee table that almost looked out of place, and an area rug in shades of burnt orange, browns, and cream that lent a cozy warmth to the room.
No deer heads adorned the walls, for which she was grateful. However, a complicated mass of antlers formed a strange light fixture that hung low overhead.
“Annette!”
With an exasperated sound, she dashed to the staircase, also made of beautifully polished poles, and took them two at a time to the next floor.
Gabrielle stood alone waiting for her. She spoke French, as they’d agreed to use English only when with non-French speakers. “Jeff has taken our bags into these two rooms,” she said, pointing. “He said they’re both the same, and I told him I’d take this one.” She leaned in close and whispered again. “I’m hoping we won’t have to bother him by staying long, so I wouldn’t unpack.” With this sage advice, Gabrielle shot her sister a smile and disappeared into the room she’d chosen.
Jeff emerged from the other bedroom with his brows furrowed. “I put your bag on a chair. I have a few chores to take care of. My housekeeper will prepare the evening meal. Her name is Mrs. Lewis,” he said with great formality. “When you’re ready feel free to go downstairs and make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be at six.” He pulled his hat, still glistening with raindrops, farther down on his head, and turning on his heel walked to the head of the stairs.
“I do appreciate all you’re doing for us,” she called faintly. He paused for the briefest of moments, then touched the brim of his hat in answer, and clomped downstairs.
Annette moved, rather robotically, to the room she’d been assigned. So much had happened since the morning. She yawned and her eyes felt heavy. She wondered if it would curb or prolong the problems of jetlag if she laid down for a nap.
Then she stepped into the room and snapped awake. If she had thought the downstairs was beautiful, this space was absolutely fantastic. Her room was built into the corner end of the house which meant she had windows on two walls—but what windows! A queen-sized bed sat against a whole wall of them, all looking out on the white peaked Rockies in the distance. Heavy brocade drapes of mossy green, sprinkled with pink roses, were pulled to either side. The material co-ordinated perfectly with the bedspread and pillow shams. A beautiful night table made from the fat knotted trunk of a tree had been varnished until it was glossy. On top of it sat an ornate lamp in the shape of an old-fashioned urn, also in a pretty shade of rose.
An arched door, tucked on the other side of the room must lead to a bathroom. She’d make use of that soon, but first to explore.
The other wall was the one she’d seen from the road with double glass doors leading to a sheltered sundeck outside, but the design wasn’t rectangular and basic. They were gracefully rounded at the top and set into the heavy logs making her feel as though they led out of a Hobbit hole into some fantastic tale of magical proportions. She walked to them, drawn by the loveliness of the design, and stepped outside.
About twenty horses grazed in a pasture nearby and as she watched, they lifted their heads as if on cue to peer at something. Following their line of vision, she saw Jeff, wearing a long raincoat and rubber boots, walk toward the animals carrying a pail and some sort of harness. He set the pail to one side, looping the harness over one arm, and reached over the wooden rails to pat them as they trotted over to greet him. Then, he unlatched the gate and slid inside. He lifted the halter and fastened it over the head of one white horse. Deftly he manoeuvred the beast by itself out the gate before closing it behind him.
As the horse joined him, even from this distance she could see that it wasn’t young. Its head hung low against the driving rain. The animal moved slowly beside him as Jeff picked up the bucket and headed off toward the barn. Tugging her purse from where it hung at her side, she dug around for her cell phone and turned it on. Annette lifted it, adjusted the settings a little, and took several pictures.
The pair disappeared inside the barn and Annette felt a tug at her heart. The man was kind to animals. It was obvious, even to her, that he had taken the old horse out of the lashing rain, giving it something extra to eat where it would be warm and dry.
She turned away, not wanting to feel anything for her unwilling host, and looked up. The room was in the eaves and high above her head the ceiling rose to a peak showing a skylight.
Her jaw dropped in astonishment. She would be able to lie in bed and count the stars tonight if it stopped raining. Flopping onto a mossy green, velvet chair, like the one where Jeff had set her bag, she hooked a footstool with one foot and pulled it in front of her. She sank into the luxurious depths, propped her feet up, and contemplated her room.
“I don’t think I ever want to leave,” she muttered, hugging herself with glee. If it wasn’t for their unpleasant host, it would be perfect. But then she thought of Sophie and the reason they were here with Jeff. No. It wasn’t ideal, she chided herself.
She looked at the phone in her hand. How unusual that she hadn’t checked for messages since arriving. Except there had been too much to see and think about for that, she supposed. Besides, all of her friends knew she was on holiday. Her relationship with Philippe had ended five months ago, so there was no one special in her life that would care she was gone for the next week. She dropped the phone back in her small, quilted circle purse, letting it slide to the floor as she folded her hands over her stomach and simply gazed about her.
A light tap came at the door.
“Come in,” she called, jumping to her feet, and hurrying to open the door. It must be Gabrielle, wandering over to check on her. Well, that was good. She hadn’t had a chance to speak privately with her sister since landing.
But it wasn’t her. Instead, a solid-looking woman, her longish blonde hair greying at the roots, and scraped into a ponytail, stood in the doorway with hands on hips. She wore a bright purple tracksuit that was, perhaps, a size too small. The lady appeared to be somewhere in her fifties, Annette gauged, with hazel eyes, an upturned nose, and a face lined from hard work in a harsh climate.
“Bun-jure,” she said haltingly, and her mouth relaxed into a sheepish grin. “Sorry, my dear. I know that was a terrible attempt to greet you in your own language, but you have to give me marks for trying. I took French classes all through high school, but nothing really sank in.” She tapped her forehead and rolled her eyes with a laugh. Annette liked her instantly.
“It is nice to meet you. You must be Mrs. Lewis?”
The lady nodded vigorously. “I am. I’ve just come up to tell you and your sister that supper will be ready in half an hour. Oh, and to check if you needed anything.”
Annette shook her head. “I’ve never seen such a pretty bedroom,” she said. “I ‘aven’t looked at the bath, but I’m sure it ‘as everything I’d ever need. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.” Mrs. Lewis backed away and turned toward Gabrielle’s room, lifting a hand to knock.
“I can tell Gabrielle if you like,” Annette offered, stepping into the hall. “I’d like to see ‘er room anyway.”
The plump little lady grinned. “Mercy,” she called, and headed off downstairs.
Now that Annette had thought about food, she could smell the most tantalizing aroma and sniffed appreciatively. The last meal she’d eaten was on the plane, and it hadn’t been great.
“Oui?” Gabrielle responded to the tap on her door. “Isn’t it lovely?” she went on rapturously, as Annette opened the door and stepped inside. And it was, but not quite as beautiful as her own, she thought privately. The décor was similar, except the colour scheme was turquoise and cream. The room had the rounded doors leading outside, but no windows over the bed and no skylight.
“The rooms are wonderful,” Annette agreed. “I feel quite spoiled. Is it this nice at Sophie’s house?”
“No. Not really. It’s a nice home, of course, and the setting is fantastic, but hers is much older. This house is something outstanding, don’t you think?” Gabrielle’s smiling face suddenly fell. “I am so worried about Sophie. I wonder if Jeff has heard from her yet.”
“We’ll know soon enough. Mrs. Lewis, the housekeeper, was just at my door to say dinner would be ready soon.” She sidled close to her sister. Even though they were alone, she whispered. “I feel strange about staying with the neighbour. Especially since he isn’t all that friendly. And it doesn’t seem like there’s anything we can do to help Sophie. Do you think we should try to get a flight back home tomorrow?”
Gabrielle raised a hand to her forehead as if she had a headache and walked to the glass doors to look outside. “I understand how you feel and I’m sorry. This was supposed to be a celebration of your achievements, a wonderful time for you and me to share. But I can’t leave until I know what’s happening with my mother-in-law, and offer my help.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s five here, so well after midnight in Paris…and too late to call Andrew. I sent him a message to say we’d arrived, but that’s all he knows.” She spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “There may be nothing we can do, but I can’t leave either. If Andrew were here he would stand by her and do all he could…” her voice trembled. “I love Sophie like my own mother.”
“Oh Gabby,” Annette rushed across the room and flung her arms around her sweet sister, reverting back to the childhood name she’d called her. “I’m so selfish! Naturally, you want to stay and help if you can. We’ll both do whatever possible to sort this out. Please forgive me.”
They stood together for a few moments before Gabrielle stepped back and dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue she pulled from her pocket.
“It’s okay. I feel strange too, and I’m not entirely comfortable staying with her neighbour. But he has been kind, and you have to admit,” she gave Annette a watery smile, “it’s sort of like being at a resort.”
Annette giggled in an effort to lighten the mood. Linking her arm through her sister’s own, she tugged her gently to the door. “Let’s go downstairs and see what Mrs. Lewis has made to eat. It smells divine and she’s a sweetheart.” She stopped and pulled her sister around to face her. “And don’t give me another thought. I’m fine really. I’m with you in this, okay?” She gazed at her sister with love.
Gabrielle nodded and together they walked downstairs to find the kitchen.
The smell of roasting meat drew them like moths to a flame. Once reaching the main floor, they turned left. Altogether avoiding the living room and continuing down a short hallway till the sounds of clanging pans announced they had arrived at their destination.
The kitchen was rustic yet thoroughly modern in design. Beside them and set in front of another wall of windows, was a long dining table that could easily seat fifteen people. Curving away from it was a horseshoe-shaped bar with frosted glass lamps dangling from long metal hangers. Behind the bar, the kitchen opened up to a rock wall on one side that housed two large gas ranges and a professional-looking, indoor grill. Wooden doors with heavy black metal handles covered cupboards, drawers, and what looked like a walk-in pantry. And overtop an island workspace hung a metal rack holding antique kitchen implements, some of them resembling instruments of torture.
Mrs. Lewis had covered her purple track suit with a voluminous white apron that bore the words, ‘Never trust a skinny chef,’ across the front. She bustled out from behind the bar to greet them.
“You must be Sophie’s daughter-in-law, Gabrielle,” she said warmly and nodded approvingly as Gabrielle spoke.
“Oui. I am glad to meet you Madame Lewis. The dinner smells wonderful. Thank you.”
“Please, both of you call me Sandra. My husband’s mother was the real Mrs. Lewis. She was a lovely woman, but a terrible cook.” Sandra rolled expressive eyes and laughed. “Now, why don’t you two sit here at the bar and talk with me while I finish making the meal?”
Needing no further encouragement, they hopped onto stools. Annette sniffed appreciatively. “What are you cooking?” she asked. “And could I ‘ave the recipe?”
“My goodness yes,” Sandra grinned at them over a pot of steaming potatoes. “But it’s pretty simple. When you work on a ranch where they have all the cattle Jeff does, you get good at roasting beef.” She plunked the pot down and flung open a drawer to scrabble inside. After a moment, she withdrew an electric hand mixer, fitted it with metal beaters, and plugged it into the wall.
“Excuse me a minute,” she announced. “It’s going to get loud in here.” They stared, fascinated as she added butter, chives, and sour cream to the pot. She picked up the mixer, flipped the switch on high, and brandished it in the air as though auditioning for a part in the next Chainsaw Massacre movie, before thrusting it into the steaming heap of cut vegetable.
“My children often tell me I’m too dramatic,” she proclaimed, yelling at them over her shoulder. “But if a person can’t have a little fun, life would be boring. Don’t you agree?”
Annette looked at Gabrielle and the sisters grinned. It was true. Sandra scooped the potatoes into a bowl and added a sprinkle of cheese to the top before popping it into an oven. She wiped her hands on her apron and faced them.
“Would you like a drink? Water, juice, tea, or maybe a glass of wine? We have most anything you could want.”
They both asked for a glass of water. Sandra bustled across the kitchen to grab two glasses from an overhead cupboard and held them one at a time under the water dispenser of a massive refrigerator. Ice rattled, hitting the bottom before water splashed inside.
“There you are,” she said brightly, setting them down with a clunk on the bar. “Did you have a good flight? Must have surprised you to have Jeff waiting at the airport?” She raised eyebrows at them as she hurried away to fling open another cabinet door and reach for plates. These were piled onto the counter with a handful of cutlery tumbled on top. Then she was off again flitting about to snatch a pair of heavy red oven mitts from another drawer and pull them on.
“The flight was fine,” Annette answered. “But we did not expect to be met by…Jeff.” His name was forced from her lips. She knew she should feel grateful for what he was doing, but her instant dislike of the man made it difficult.
Sandra cast her a sideways glance, but said nothing. She opened the second oven and stepped back from the heat before diving in for the dish. The meat was a sizzling, golden brown, its exterior glistening with savory juices as the mouth-watering aroma wafted through the air in waves. Annette’s stomach growled.
“And you’ve never been to Canada before?” Sandra asked, straining the juices into a saucepan, and covering the roast with aluminum foil before setting it aside.
Mesmerized by this whirling dervish of a woman, Annette sat spellbound until she realized she could at least help out by setting the table. Whisking off the stool, she hurried around the bar.
“No, I ‘ave never been outside of Europe,” she answered. “It is beautiful here.”
“Why thank you, Annette,” Sandra said, as Annette scooped up the dishes and carried them to the table. “Just throw them down at the far end. Well,” she added with a wink, “perhaps ‘throw’ was a poor choice of words. It might be best if you set them gently.” She turned back to her work. “And I’m so glad you liked your first glimpse of the Rockies. I’m sure you two will find plenty of interesting things to see and do while you’re here.”
As Annette busied herself, she wondered who each place setting was for. There were six in total, but who would be occupying the chairs was none of her business. So, she set each blue plate onto the cheerful yellow mats stacked at the center of the long oval table, and kept her curiosity to herself.
Gabrielle helped by finding heavy glass tumblers and bringing them over. “I ‘ave a variety of activities planned for my sister,” she announced, loud enough for Sandra to hear over the busy sounds of stirring that now emanated from the kitchen, “but I’m not sure what will ‘appen with Sophie’s ranch. We don’t want to be in the way.”
Sandra turned to them with her mouth open, as though about to speak, with a metal whisk raised and dripping in the air. Any further remarks were interrupted by the sound of a door crashing shut at the front of the house. Then voices could be heard, and footsteps approached. All three women turned to the double swinging doors, much like what might be featured at the entrance of a saloon in an old western movie, to see who was coming inside.
The doors flew open, and two women marched through. One was Sophie, but the other was a dark-haired woman dressed completely in denim and wearing a ball cap. Gabrielle rushed to throw her arms around Sophie. She was tall like her son, Andrew, with short hair that was far greyer than Annette remembered.
“My dear girl!” Sophie gushed, folding Gabrielle into a loving embrace. “It’s so good to see you.” She kissed Gabrielle’s cheeks three times, before sliding an arm around her daughter-in-law’s waist. The older woman led the way to where Annette was standing, wringing her hands—unsure of herself. Clearly it was a terrible time for them to visit, and part of her felt as though they ought to get back on a plane and return to France. She clasped her hands together, knowing her smile was wobbly.
But, as the two women approached, she relaxed a little. Sophie looked so genuinely happy to see them both that it warmed Annette’s heart. At least for the moment she wouldn’t allow herself to worry.
Sophie met her gaze with a broad grin, slipped her arm free of Gabrielle with a final squeeze, and stretched both hands out to Annette. What a striking woman. Without wearing a bit of makeup, Sophie was beautiful. Her icy blue eyes, the same as her son Andrew’s, held Annette’s gaze with a look of genuine welcome. Lines at their corners and near her mouth spoke of laughter and of the smile always on her lips. Today, of course, there was a tiredness in her expression, and she moved slowly across the floor. Annette’s heart went out to this hard-working woman who had been struggling to keep her family ranch running smoothly after the death of her husband.
Because Annette always noticed what people wore, she took in the simple pair of jeans over cowboy boots, the long brown jacket, stained and worn from long years of use, and pulled in at a narrow waist with a drawstring. It was zipped up to Sophie’s neck as though offering a thin veneer of protection from the worries that plagued this beautiful lady. Annette was swept into her arms and given the very same effusive welcome as Gabrielle.
“I am so glad you came to see me,” Sophie said, still with a trace of French accent. “I am only sorry I could not be there to greet you at the airport.” She shrugged and a look of sorrow crossed her lovely features.
“Merci beaucoup,” Annette said. “Thank you for asking me to visit. I’m sorry we came at such an inopportune time.”
“Nonsense,” the lady said, turning to capture Gabrielle with her free hand and pull all three of them together for a hug. “No one could have predicted the future. I’m pleased you’re both here.” Letting them go, she ran a hand through her closely cropped hair and shook her head. “It was a difficult day, but enough of that for now.”
Stepping back, Sophie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked pale and tired, but her eyes sparkled as she looked across the kitchen at Sandra who had gone back to her meal preparations with renewed zeal. “I see my dear friend has been busy cooking us a wonderful meal. No doubt Jeff has told you both that you’ll be staying with him until our water problem is fixed?” A cloud crossed her face.
“Yes,” Gabrielle said. “It’s very kind of him, but I’m worried about you. Is everything alright?”
A crack of thunder split the air, and lightning flashed outside causing the lights to flicker and her words to appear almost ominous. Simultaneously, the rain outside turned into hard pebbles of hail that clattered against the many windows of the home. The sound became almost deafening.
Sophie hurried to the window and squinted at the sky. “It was supposed to rain heavily today, but hail is unexpected. This will make everything just a little more difficult,” she added cryptically. Then, with a forced lifting of her eyebrows and a smile, she beckoned to them. “Come,” she shouted over the din, “let’s sit. I want to introduce you to Rosa. She started working for me a few months ago and I don’t know what I’d do without her. Rosa manages the books and works alongside me at the ranch. She has been invaluable over the last few months.”
At this, the tall, dark-haired woman stepped forward with her hand outstretched. She didn’t look exactly happy to see them, in fact her face resembled the thunderclouds outside, but Annette put that down to the concern they were all feeling. Rosa’s lips were pursed with disapproval, or so it appeared, and her grey eyes were cold as flint, but she was a pretty woman with bobbed hair and a nice figure. When she wasn’t scowling, she was probably quite attractive. She wore the ubiquitous jeans and matching jacket that Gabrielle had once laughingly referred to as the Canadian tuxedo. Beneath the jean jacket was a pale blue t-shirt. At least her colour palate was consistent, although monochrome.
“Rosa, this is my daughter-in-law Gabrielle and her sister Annette. They flew in from Paris this morning.”
Rosa’s lips stretched across her teeth, but it couldn’t really be called a smile. It was a bit foreign to shake so many hands, but Annette knew customs in Canada were different than those in France, and she murmured a polite greeting as they shook.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” said Rosa. “We hope to get you back to Sophie’s house as soon as possible. It’s unfortunate you’re forced to stay with Jeff.” She moved to the opposite side of the table and sat, pushing the plate out of her way as she folded her hands on the table. Gabrielle joined her.
Annette took the chair Sophie pulled out for her, seating herself beside the older woman who dropped into a chair. “The rooms are lovely,” she said, “and from what I can tell, Sandra is a wonderful cook, so we will not be suffering. But of course, I ‘ope the problems are soon fixed.” She looked at Sophie with lifted brows, eager for good news.
“I’m waiting for a call from our veterinarian,” Sophie shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the back of her chair. “Until then, I know nothing. The animal that died was taken to the vet clinic for an autopsy. I must learn the results as soon as possible and then take whatever action is necessary.”
“I’m so sorry.” Gabrielle shook her head.
“Yes, my dear, I know,” Sophie forced an unsteady smile. “But these things happen when you raise animals. Knowledge is power. Once we know what happened to them we can proceed.” Taking a phone out of her pocket, she placed it on the table in front of her and tapped it to make sure there were no messages.
“You really think something seeped into the water?” Gabrielle’s forehead was creased with worry. “Perhaps there was a noxious plant in the feed?”
“Ne t”inquiète pas, mon lapin.” Sophie slipped into her native French as she hastened to reassure her daughter-in-law. After all these years her accent had nearly disappeared, but her ability to speak the language remained. “Please don’t worry, my dear” she translated. “To have one animal die might mean a natural cause, or something like you suggest, but when the other three are also very sick…? No. Something drastic would have happened to cause this. One must be pragmatic and look for an external reason.” She shrugged. “But please, let’s not talk of that now. Soon you girls will come to stay with me.”
“Are you sure we couldn’t stay there now?” Annette asked hopefully. “Perhaps we could help with something.”
“No, no, there is no water,” Sophie shook her head. “It’s best you stay with Jeffrey. He’ll take good care of you and can bring you to visit me during the day. Perhaps ‘e will even lend you a truck, so you may come and go as you please. Everything will be back to normal soon, I promise. Then I shall ‘ave you to myself.” She swung around and flashed them a bright smile. “There are many things planned for us to do.”
“Parties?” Annette asked without thinking. Her thoughts had immediately flashed to her pretty purple dress, but she could have kicked herself when all eyes turned to her in surprise.
“Were you hoping for a cotillion where you could wear a ball gown and satin slippers to be introduced to all the eligible males in the district?” a male voice asked dryly from the doorway.
Annette jumped. She threw a hand up to her throat to calm her racing heart and felt her cheeks flush. It was so close to the truth that she felt like a fool. Where had he come from? And why, of all moments, had he chosen to walk in at that one. The man was unbearable.
“Jeff,” Sophie spoke his name in a reproachful tone. “She’s never been to Canada before and doesn’t understand how a ranch operates.” Turning to Annette, she caught her hand and squeezed. “Don’t pay any attention to him, my dear. I’d like both of you to tell me about your graduation and how Andrew is doing with the store.”
Annette’s face was hot with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to blurt that word. Clearly the foolishness of it had shocked the whole group into silence. It was all because she and Gabby had argued about the lack of social events on this trip that the word, parties, had jumped to her lips.
Jeff strode to the table and, for the first time, Annette saw him without a hat. His hair was darker than his eyes, almost black, and pushed straight back off his forehead while the back curled over his ears and collar. He pulled out the chair on Sophie’s other side, sat, and was blocked from her view.
Instead, Annette’s attention was caught by the sudden flurry of activity across the table. Rosa had whipped off her hat and tossed it to one side. Then she pulled the ponytail free from its elastic and was fluffing her hair with both hands, her cheeks suffused with colour.
Granted, not as flushed as Annette, but why was Rosa embarrassed? Annette narrowed her eyes. Oh, it wasn’t embarrassment. She watched as the young woman darted a look at Jeff and realized Rosa was attracted to their host. Interesting. She wondered if the sentiment was shared by Jeff, then her ears picked up on what he was saying.
“Dr. Roberts was just here.”
“He was? Then where is he?” Sophie craned her neck to look out the window and into the driving rain.
“He couldn’t stay because he wants to go check on the three heifers in the barn. He’s hoping they’ve improved since he treated them this morning.”
“Okay…” Sophie took a deep breath. “And what did he learn from the autopsy?” Sophie’s hands clenched together on her lap. Annette couldn’t see her face, but she could feel the tension as the lady braced herself for the worst.
Jeff reached out and covered her hands with his large ones. “He said they were poisoned, and that it was only extreme thirst that drove them to drink the water, because it was about fifty percent pesticide.”
Sophie tore her hands away and covered her face with a groan, her back heaving.
Jeff placed a hand on her shoulder. “There’s more.”
“More…?” Her voice was strangled.
“He thinks someone poured jugs and jugs of the stuff into your well. They deliberately poisoned those animals…and it could have just as easily been one of you that died. Of course, you would have smelled the chemicals, but the intention was there, nonetheless. This was no accident, my dear friend. I’m doubting that all the other problems you’ve had lately were simply bad luck. I believe someone is out to destroy you.”