Chapter 8
True to her word, Sandra had left a casserole in the refrigerator for them to put in the oven upon their return. While Jeff went out to attend to other obligations, Annette and Gabrielle put together the meal. Instructions had been scrawled on an orange note that was stuck to the counter, but most of the words were obliterated by numerous messy drips of something brown and gooey. As Annette held the page up to squint at it, the unknown substance trickled down the page. She quickly laid it flat again.
“I think it says to set the dish on a cookie sheet and preheat the oven to three hundred fifty degrees before we cut a slit in the top of the pastry and bake it for one hour. But I can’t be sure,” she said, hovering over the page at every angle. “It might be telling us to strap the dish to the back of a cooked sheep and turn often at a three hundred fifty degree angle over an outdoor spit.”
Gabrielle laughed. “You’re crazy. I think we’ll go with the first set of guidelines, just to be safe.”
Working together, they assembled the makings of a salad and set the table. With the casserole in the oven a delicious aroma soon flooded the kitchen. They debated the contents of the unknown meal, since Sandra hadn’t mentioned what ingredients were used. It was doubtful they could have read it if she had, but it smelled divine. Annette’s mouth was watering by the time Sophie and the ever-silent Rosa, arrived. Rosa contrived to sit opposite them at the table, with an empty chair beside her. Annette and Gabrielle were next to one another, and Sophie sat stoic at the head.
Dinner that night was a dismal affair. Sophie remained lost in thought, which was understandable given all that had happened, and especially after Gabrielle had spoken to her. Jeff only appeared at the last moment. They sat silently at the table waiting for him as he crashed around at the back entry, taking off his things and washing his hands. When he appeared, he ran wet fingers through his hair, pushing it off his face which caused his bearded jaw to look even more chiselled and handsome than it already was.
Annette forced herself to look away, aware that Rosa’s eyes were riveted on her this time, rather than on Jeff. The woman has nothing to fear, she thought with distaste. She had no interest in this rough and tumble man from Canada’s outback. She was attracted to men of refinement with good taste—who understood wine pairings and dressed according to the current trends.
“Sorry if I kept you all waiting,” he called, dragging out the chair beside Rosa and flinging himself into it. “You should have started without me.”
“It’s not the same without the man of the house,” Rosa responded with saccharine sweetness. She looked up coyly and fluttered her lashes.
Annette’s stomach tightened with revulsion. Note to self: never, ever, under any circumstance, do you act like a simpering ninny for a man.
Steam from the hot casserole dish rose into the air like a pillar of smoke, releasing a delectable scent.
“Chicken pot pie,” Sophie announced dreamily. “Sandra makes it better than anyone I know.”
Annette and Gabrielle exchanged looks. Oh, that’s what it was. Of course.
“May I serve you?” Annette asked Sophie first. Picking up the large spoon she brandished it in the air. “I am armed, but not dangerous.” Her attempt at levity fell a bit flat, but Sophie managed an exhausted smile and handed Annette her plate.
“Please,” she said.
Annette busied herself filling everyone’s dishes while the rest of them passed around salad and the homemade dressing Sandra had prepared. A stack of sliced, freshly baked bread was also part of the feast.
Annette ladled out Jeff’s meal last. Afterward, she couldn’t think how it happened because it didn’t with anyone else. Yet as she handed him the plate, for a brief moment, his fingers covered hers before sliding away. Involuntarily, her body shivered. Her eyes snapped up to hold his in a shocked glance that went on for far too long. Then she shook herself and sat down with a bump, feeling flustered.
“I ‘eard from Weaver today,” Sophie suddenly announced. Jeff dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter.
“Isn’t that the oil tycoon from up north who was buying the poisoned cows?” he asked in astonishment. “What does he want?” Jeff reached for his glass and took a deep drink.
“Yes, that’s ‘im.” Sophie offered nothing more. She stared at her plate, making no move to eat the tantalizing food. Perhaps this was why she looked so preoccupied tonight. A pregnant silence ensued in which Jeff waited patiently for more information and Annette felt something was wrong.
Rosa cleared her throat with a tiny cough. “I know it’s not my decision,” she said, dabbing her mouth delicately with a napkin. “But I care about Sophie, and the Triple T, and I think she should consider what he proposed.”
“What did he say?” Jeff disregarded this last statement and stared at Sophie with growing concern. Raising his voice, he scraped his chair around to face her. “Does he want to buy other cattle?”
Sophie sighed again and ran a hand through her cropped hair. “Weaver said ‘e ‘as been thinking about the troubles I’ve been ‘aving and wants to follow through with the sale of the remaining three animals.”
Jeff frowned. “Okay, well that’s not so bad. It’s kind of weird, but decent of him actually.” His brows knit together in a frown. “That’s not all though, is it?” he probed.
“No, that’s not all.” Sophie twisted a napkin between her hands, pouring all the stress she was feeling into the cloth. “Yesterday, when I was trying to explain why the animals weren’t on their way to ‘im, I told Weaver more than I should ‘ave about the problems I’ve been ‘aving.” She lifted an anguished face and stared at Jeff. “He not only offered to still take the sick cows…” she paused and took a long slow breath. “He offered to take the ranch off my ‘ands—again.” Her eyes fell to the table. “A month ago, when ‘e came to look at the cattle I ‘ad for sale, ‘e offered the same thing.”
“I see,” Jeff said slowly. “Well, I can’t say I haven’t thought it might be the best thing for you to do. But I don’t think it’s what you want. Is it?”
Annette sucked in her breath. Gabrielle tensed beside her. The atmosphere at the table was strained and watchful as all eyes turned to Sophie. The older lady shrugged.
“I don’t know what I want,” she finally admitted. “Weaver seems like an ‘onest fellow and ‘e made me an offer that would be ‘ard to refuse. It’s well above what the place is worth.” She wrapped the napkin around her clenched fist in agitation and then ripped it off and wrapped it around the other hand. “If I wasn’t ‘aving financial issues, I wouldn’t even consider it, but…” She lifted her hands in resignation. “Losing Malcom really changed things, and I’m just not as sure I can run the place alone.” She glanced up at Jeff and Rosa. “Even with the support of friends.”
Sophie looked quickly at Gabrielle. “Don’t worry,” she said with emphasis, “I’ll call the boys before I make a final decision, but I won’t let them give up the lives they’ve built for themselves to come running ‘ome for me.” Her voice grew stronger as she spoke. “I’ll sell the place before I do that.”
Everyone sank into a grim reverie after Sophie’s final statement. What could be said? The chicken pot pie didn’t receive the attention it should have, the salad wilted into a dejected heap, and the bread dried to a husk before their very eyes. It was a sad end to the day.
Of course, Rosa appeared to have no trouble cleaning her plate, but Annette had already decided that the woman didn’t care about Sophie as much as she professed. She made a mental note to ask Gabrielle about Rosa as soon as they were alone.
This opportunity came sooner than expected. After everyone pushed their dinners around their plates for the required amount of time, they made their various excuses, got up, and left.
Sophie complained of a headache and retired to her room. Jeff went back outside, and Rosa lounged on a sofa in the living room in front of the television. Annette and Gabrielle cleared the table.
Once the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher and the food was put away, they both decided to call it an early night. They slipped past Rosa and noiselessly climbed the stairs to their rooms.
“Do you want to come in and chat for a few minutes?” Gabrielle asked when they reached her door.
Nodding, Annette followed her sister inside and flopped down on the bed with a groan. “What a day!” she said, coming up on one elbow to gaze out the wide expanse of window beside her. The sunset was radiant. Colours transformed before her eyes from soft pinks and oranges to deep amethyst and fuchsia. The mountains were bathed in a warm glow, their peaks outlined in gold against the sky.
She felt a sense of envy for the people who lived here. This was an everyday sight for them. They didn’t deal with the exhaust fumes of a busy street, or the incessant clamour of humanity passing by their front doors. They would never feel the need to shut the world out while they tried desperately to create something beautiful on a canvas as the sound of a siren’s wailing cry drove past their window.
Her heart almost ached from the beauty of this country. She studied the distant summits. They were an ever-present strength; steady and strong. She felt compelled to tell Sophie to draw power from them, to not give in to the forces seeking to drive her from her home nestled in the embrace of the majestic Rockies. She wanted to say that it was worth fighting for. But it was not her decision to make, nor to influence. Soon she would return to the familiarity of her apartment in Paris. She would leave this alternate world and all of its troubles behind, moving on to the next chapter of her life.
She sagged back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Poor Sophie.
“It’s been a whirlwind since we arrived,” Gabrielle agreed. She sat on the bed and scooted herself backward until she was propped against the pillows. Drawing her knees up to her chest she said, “I have no idea who this Rosa is or why she seems to carry such weight with Sophie.”
Annette flipped onto her stomach and held her chin in her hands. “I can’t believe you just said that,” she admitted with a look toward the door as though the subject of their discussion was lurking just outside. “I’ve been meaning to ask you that very thing.”
Gabrielle shrugged expressively. “As you know, Andrew and I stayed with Sophie after Malcom died. Rosa wasn’t here then. But a month or so later, we started hearing her name.”
“In what context? I mean, is she a secretary? A personal assistant? A freeloading friend? What?”
Gabrielle made a face. “I’d have to guess she’s more of a freeloading friend, but that’s not likely to be Sophie’s description. When Andrew spoke to his mother, she credited Rosa for bringing her through a very difficult time. I think she’s with Sophie as an office manager and bookkeeper, but Sophie has a number of horses too. Apparently Rosa trains them for barrel racing.”
“Barrel racing?” repeated Annette. “I could ask you to expound on that, but I suppose it’s self-explanatory. I can only assume she trains horses to race around barrels, because I cannot see how they could race against them. Still, I’ve been wrong before.”
Gabrielle giggled. “Anything’s possible.”
“And what do you think of this latest offer to buy the ranch?”
Her sister shook her head sorrowfully. “I don’t like it. But it’s none of my business. She needs to discuss it with her sons. Running a ranch is a huge job.” Gabrielle removed the elastic from her braid and began to separate the strands of glossy black hair. “Anyway, Sophie promised she’d talk to Andrew and Jayke. Unless she asks me for help, I can’t interfere any further.”
“Yes, that’s all you can do.” Annette rolled off the bed and hugged her sister. “You’re a really good daughter-in-law, do you know that? I’m proud of you.”
“Wow, what brought that on?” Gabrielle hugged her back.
“Gratitude,” Annette answered serenely. “I’m glad you brought me here. It hasn’t gone according to plan, but it’s still been good. Maybe even life-changing,” she said with a grin as she walked to the door. With her hand on the latch, she turned. “I may go home and order up some glitter shoes in every colour of the rainbow.”
Gabrielle laughed and threw a pillow at her.
“Good night dear sister,” Annette called, flitting into the hall.
As she entered her own room she leaned against the door and hugged herself. The rosy light of the setting sun painted the furniture in a golden hue, turning the space into a magical chamber of gilded light and shadow. A vase of fresh flowers sat on the night table. She walked to them and lifted it to her nose, drinking in the sweet scent of the huge pink peonies.
“Thank you Sandra,” she whispered.
She wandered to the window and gazed out at the mountains, transforming into the silhouettes of evening. Being here was like living in a fairy-tale. She spread out her arms and twirled, suddenly wishing she was wearing the beautiful violet dress and satin shoes. They suited this moment of beauty and wonder.
She now understood what Gabby had tried so hard to tell her. This was no place for frilly dresses and high heeled shoes. And she was beginning to realize there was more to life than fashionable clothing and art galleries. But maybe one quiet evening, all by herself, she would put her pretty things on and glory in the feeling of being a princess in a tower.
She yawned. The day’s events were catching up with her. She crossed to her bed and rummaged beneath the pillow for her nightgown. It only took a few minutes to brush her teeth and wash up. She would shower in the morning. Quickly she disrobed and tugged the gown over her head. Climbing onto the bed, she crawled under the soft white comforter and fell fast asleep.
It wassome time later that Annette awoke with a pounding headache. She fumbled for her phone on the table and nearly knocked over the flowers. Tapping her phone to life, she looked at the time. It was only eleven o’clock at night. She flipped the covers back and slipped out of bed, clutching her forehead. These headaches were relentless. She needed to find her bottle of painkillers. Starting to rummage through her things, she remembered how she’d given them to Gabrielle on the plane two days ago.
Groaning irritably, she clicked on the bedside lamp, and tiptoed to the door. She opened it a crack to listen. Hearing nothing, she ventured into the hallway and scampered to Gabrielle’s door. She tapped lightly, but there was no answer. Her sister must be asleep, but she knew the pills would still be in her purse. Annette let herself in soundlessly and used the light on her phone to locate the purse where it had been flung on a chair. Got them!
Fisting them tightly, she moved back to the door and listened again before opening it wide. She could hear voices. Closing the door except for a thin crack, she waited for whoever it was to pass. Except they didn’t. Wide awake now, she peeked through the crack to see two shadowy figures standing at the top of the stairs.
“Maybe you’d like to take our discussion to the bedroom,” a female voice purred. “Why don’t you join me for another drink, and we can talk more about the future?”
Oh no! It was Rosa. Annette’s body froze when she heard Jeff’s voice reply, low and inaudible. Zut! She’d known it must be him. There was no one else it could be. But it was a shock. She couldn’t hear what he said, but she could definitely see the two figures slowly melt into one.
Aghast, Annette looked away, unable to bear the thought that they were a couple. She hid behind the door, closing her ears to what came next and only ventured out long after their footsteps had receded.
Slipping inside her own door, Annette lifted a hand to her head. The pain had gotten worse. She went to the bathroom, took two tablets, and ran cool water over a facecloth to lay on her throbbing brow. As she made her way back to the bed, she heard a knock. Gabrielle?
Holding the cloth to her head, she shuffled to the door. She opened it a crack, ready to explain, but it wasn’t Gabby.
“I see you’re awake, and it looks like you’re in pain. Sorry to see that,” Rosa sneered, not sounding sorry at all. In the dim light, the woman’s face took on a sinister glow, her cheekbones and deep-set eyes giving her a hollow, unearthly pallor. She pushed the door wide enough to enter, and slipped inside.
“This is not a good time for me to—” Annette started to explain. Rosa cut her off.
“I think it’s a perfect time, and don’t worry. I have no desire to stay for a girly chat.” Rosa crossed her arms across her chest and regarded Annette with narrowed eyes. “I heard you in the hall just now. You might as well know, for your own good, that Jeff and I are a couple. He just doesn’t want everyone to know yet.” Rosa took an intimidating step closer. Annette stumbled back, but the bed was in the way and she came to an abrupt halt. Hatred rolled off Rosa in palpable waves as she leaned in so close that Annette could feel her hot breath.
“I want you to stay away from my man,” she growled like some primal beast defending a den. “Jeff’s too sweet for his own good. He should never have offered to keep you and your useless sister with him. In fact, I think it might be best if you both went back where you came from. Sophie has me to help her now. Besides, Jeff and I have plans,” the woman spat.
The wet cloth dropped to the floor as Annette’s hands went slack and her breath caught in her throat. She leaned away from this wildly jealous woman as far as she could without toppling onto the bed and clutched at the front of her nightgown, feeling vulnerable.
Rosa stepped away, a grim smile of satisfaction on her face. “Consider this a friendly warning,” she said in a soft, menacing voice. “Hope you feel better by morning. Well enough to fly home, that is,’ she hissed. With a glare Rosa swept to the door and closed it quietly behind her.
Annette collapsed onto the bed feeling like the rag that lay at her feet. That was crazy. Had she really been bullied by Rosa? What a scary woman. Already the past ten minutes felt unreal. For a start, why would anyone be jealous of her? Annette took her head in both hands and winced with pain. She couldn’t think about this bizarre situation now. The medication was making her feel woozy and she needed to lie down.
Annette forced herself to stand. The first thing she did was to lock her door. Next she picked up the cloth and returned to the bathroom to refresh it under the tap. Wearily, she made her way back into bed and tried to force the disturbing images of the last thirty minutes out of her mind. Only it didn’t work too well.
Although Rosa’s threatening behavior was alarming, strangely it was the thought of her and Jeff together that bothered Annette the most. She didn’t stop until the next day to wonder why she cared.
She only knew she did.
A lot.