Chapter 12
Annette sat in the back seat of Sophie’s spotlessly clean, yellow pickup truck, as they bumped along the gravel road on their way to the closest town. She stared out the window at the passing hills and pondered what Sandra had said. Perhaps the housekeeper was mistaken. By her own admission it had been a quick furtive glance in a restaurant, two weeks ago. It wouldn’t make sense for Rosa to be outright chasing Jeff, if her boyfriend was there beside her. Still, Rosa had been seen kissing someone, if not Marcus, who?
“Sophie, how did you find Marcus?” she asked. “And didn’t you hire two new people to work on the ranch? Where’s the other one?”
“I advertised on a job search platform. Actually, Rosa did it for me since she’s better at computer things.” Sophie slowed to negotiate a sharp curve. The road was muddy and quite slippery after all the rain. “And I hired Tristan as well, but he couldn’t start work until tomorrow. His wife is sick or something.”
Gabrielle continued the questioning. “But you interviewed them, right? Or did Rosa do that too?”
“Of course I interviewed them,” Sophie cast them a sideways glance. “What’s with all the questions?”
Annette looked at her sister. Should they tell Sophie what they knew? Gabrielle gave her a quick nod.
“It’s just that…you see…Sandra might have…” Annette stumbled. It all sounded too farfetched when she tried to put it into words.
Gabrielle intervened. “Annette is trying to say that we all know Rosa likes Jeff, but Sandra saw Rosa with two men in the city a couple of weeks ago, and she kissed one of them…I mean Rosa kissed the man, not Sandra, and today Sandra says that the man Rosa kissed looked just like Marcus.” It all came out in a jumbled rush.
Sophie laughed. “Well, of course, he did. I’m sure it was him.”
“What?” the two sisters said in unison. They looked at one another in shock.
“You know about this?” Annette gaped. “Doesn’t it concern you?”
“Why should it?” Sophie said equably. “Marcus is her cousin.”
Both women flopped back in their seats. Annette whistled between her teeth. Well that explained a lot. Sandra must have been mistaken about the sort of kiss that was shared between the two. Annette felt unaccountably relieved and at the same time her heart fell. Rosa had a perfect right to warn her away from Jeff. They were a legitimate couple. She couldn’t help but wonder why Jeff would also kiss her, though. It must have been the excitement of the moment that brought it on.
“So, Rosa convinced you to hire her cousin? Who is the other guy, her brother?” Gabrielle wasn’t about to let the subject rest.
Sophie smiled at her. “I appreciate the concern I hear in your voice, but it’s not like that, I assure you. She asked me to consider Marcus, and I did. He had very good credentials, and drove out to the ranch to meet with me in person. Rosa was working with a young filly we have great hopes for, so she was nowhere around. I made the decision alone.” She flipped on her signal light and came to a full stop before entering the busy highway. “Tristan answered the advert and came later the same morning. He’s no relation to anyone.”
“Well, that’s something I guess.” Gabrielle didn’t sound convinced. She drummed her fingers on the armrest.
“And I entirely approve of a union between Rosa and Jeff,” Sophie said firmly. “She’s a wonderful person and has been there for me through all the hardships of these last few months. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“What about Jayke?” Gabrielle asked. “I’m sure he would be here if he knew how difficult it’s been.”
“A long letter has been written and I’ll mail it to him today, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Sophie said. Her voice was starting to sound annoyed. “I’ve already explained why I don’t want him to be dragged back here.”
Annette exchanged a look with her sister in the front seat, knowing what she was thinking. A letter. Fantastic. That meant it would take a few more days for Jayke to be notified of the troubles his mother was coping with. And that was if she’d told him the full extent of it. Sophie was stalling, of course. Hoping that things would rectify themselves, so Jayke could be reassured that everything was okay. Gabrielle had asked her mother-in-law to simply call her son—not write him a letter.
Brightly, Sophie changed the subject. “How about I leave you two at the shopping centre where I get groceries, and you can look around the various stores until I’m finished leaving my statement with the RCMP?”
Annette rummaged through her purse, looking for her designer sunglasses and popped them on. As the day wound down, the sun had come out in full force. “That would be great. Thank you,” she said. “Is there a pharmacy?”
“Yes, I’ll drop you off there. Now, please tell me about your graduation from the prestigious school of art. Did you love it?”
“I did.” Annette warmed to the subject change, telling Sophie about the classes in art history, which were her favourites, and how much she had enjoyed studying the post-impressionists including Van Gogh, Paul Cézanne, and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.
“I sent my resume to several art galleries in Paris before I left. It is my dream to work among the paintings I love. I have yet to receive a response though,” she finished.
“You will,” Sophie assured her. “And I’ve seen some of your original work. You are a very accomplished painter in your own right.”
“Andrew and I are very proud of her,” added Gabrielle.
“Of course,” Sophie hastened to say.
Moments later, they entered the outskirts of town. Soon the girls were arranging a time to meet Sophie outside the grocery store and waving as she motored off through the busy parking lot. They spent an enjoyable two hours poking around clothing stores, curio shops, choosing some lilac-scented soaps to take home, and wandering through a huge cosmetics store sampling perfume.
Soon it was time to meet Sophie. They found her easily. She stood with a loaded shopping cart waiting for them.
“I can hardly wait to tell you my news,” she said gleefully. “First, let’s put the groceries into the truck and I’ll take you to my favourite coffee place.” Pushing the cart, they rumbled outside to the truck and stuffed all the food into the opposite side to where Annette sat. As they unloaded, Sophie explained. “I cornered Sandra at lunch and made her tell me all the things she needed. It’s not fair that Jeff treats us like guests in his home and feeds us too. So, I bought food to help out.”
It illustrated exactly what Annette had been thinking: what a lovely lady Sophie was. They piled into the truck and drove to the tiny café.
It was quaint and almost French in appearance. With a tiny weather-beaten facade of creamy-white bricks, the coffee shop was tucked between two buildings that overshadowed it on either side. If not for the sign over the door, ‘Lulu’s Café’ in bold green letters, it would have been easy to miss.
Underneath the sign were long windows, almost completely covered with trailing vines that appeared to curl through the door and continue growing on the inside. Although both the exterior and interior showed the patina of age, one could see in an instant that it had been lovingly preserved. Down the walls on either side were tables for four covered in white linen tablecloths, while antique chairs with ornate backs were pulled up underneath. It was a busy spot. Happy customers filled almost every table. Young couples with children were perched in high-chairs, white-haired seniors chatted over steaming drinks, and a group of boisterous teens laughed in a back corner.
The floor was a burnished mahogany, dark and worn from years of passing feet. Plants hung from baskets and trailed around the inside of the windows and on both walls were shelves filled with interesting things—sparkling glasses, old books, and small antiques of every sort.
It was a welcoming, homey shop. Despite the ambience, it was the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen that must be drawing the crowd. The rich aroma of coffee beans, fresh baked bread and pastries made an alluring combination.
An elderly man came out from behind a swinging door, rubbing his hands on his apron.
“Sit, sit,” he invited with a broad grin, gesturing about the room. Sophie and Gabrielle moved immediately to the only empty table. It was a lovely setting near the windows where natural light flooded through the greenery.
Annette was drawn to the front, where a massive glass case housed the most delectable pastries she’d seen outside of Paris. On display were lemon tarts piled with gooey meringue, cream pies topped with plum red raspberries, slices of apple cake flecked with cinnamon, four layers of chocolate cake with fudgy icing, flakey croissants, crisp, curling palmiers, cookies of every description, long eclairs slick with chocolate and sprinkled with powdered sugar, and strawberry tarts piled high with glistening fruit. Behind the counter were baskets and shelves of fresh bread. She drank in the air. It was wonderful. She made her way to the table they’d chosen, aware that Sophie was ordering coffee for all three of them.
“I hope that’s alright?” Sophie said anxiously, as the man shuffled away. “The coffee here is wonderful, and I saw that you drank it before.”
“This is perfect,” Annette said, clasping her hands, her eyes dancing. “What a wonderful little place.”
“When snowdrifts are up to your waist, and the temperature outside is so cold that the simple act of breathing hurts your lungs, this place is a delicious oasis of warmth and happiness,” Sophie explained. “The people that own it are both in their eighties. They have a son that makes the breads and likely he will take over one day. But for now, the couple makes everything themselves. They would not dream of using frozen, prepared foods.”
“What a remarkable pair!” Gabrielle looked around with appreciation. “Andrew and I came here often when we were visiting the ranch. I knew you would like it, Annette.”
“Like it?” Annette joked. “I want one of everything I saw up there.”
Everyone laughed, Sophie the loudest. She beamed at them. “I must tell you what I learned today.” She fanned her face against the glaze of tears that sprang to her eyes.
“As you know, there was some question as to whether or not I would be fined for negligence when the cattle escaped this morning,” she said. “When I arrived at the police station, I was met by the same nice constable that was at the scene. He took me into his office and told me in light of all that had been happening, they would not press any charges or fine me. They feel I’ve been through enough and it’s clear someone is trying to sabotage me and the ranch. Isn’t that kind?” Reaching for a paper napkin, she dabbed her eyes.
“That’s fantastic!” Annette cried.
Gabrielle, who was sitting beside the older woman, took her in her arms. “I’m so glad,” she said. “This calls for a celebration. Annette, what’s the most decadent and fattening thing you saw?”
“You need to look for yourselves. I can’t make such a very important decision. All I know is there’s a strawberry tart over there with my name on it.”
As the two women hurried over to the counter to select their own treats, Annette subsided into a reverie of her own. Sophie had received some good news, but the underlying fears remained. The perpetrators of these crimes had not been caught. They were still at large, and most likely devising their next attack. Everyone was aware of it, but no one said it out loud.
The day ended pleasantlywith Sophie dropping them and the groceries with Sandra. She had hurried back to the Triple T Ranch to check the cattle and take another drive past her fence lines. She was a much more relaxed woman after their trip to town and it was nice to see.
After helping Sandra put the groceries away, Gabrielle announced her intention to take a nap and call her husband, but not necessarily in that order. Annette chuckled. She understood this. It had been four years since the pair had married and they were nearly inseparable, although Gabrielle’s job took her away from the wine shop every day. It was good to see her sister so happy.
Annette grabbed her sketchbook, stuffed a couple of pencils and an eraser into a pocket, and went back downstairs to find those same enormous rubber boots. She giggled again as she stepped into them and galumphed out the back door.
Although she wanted very much to sit on the bale of straw in Pearl’s stall to draw, it held a sour note for her since Rosa had cornered her there. So, she turned and walked along the gravel path to the garden. A cloud scudded across the sun, obliterating its warmth for a moment. She shivered, even in her quilted jacket. A wooden bench sat near a tall wire support that had been created to allow climbing flowers to weave their way up and over the pole fence that surrounded the yard.
She sat and flipped through her book. A slight breeze curled down from the mountain. It whispered among the velvety pink and purple flowers, wafting their sweet perfume over her. She remembered from her childhood they were called sweet peas. Tall, lush fronds of corn rustled in this same breeze, and she gazed upon the fresh clean landscape, feeling her heart soar. It truly was a stunning part of the world. She hadn’t expected to like it so much in Canada. And all without even one party to dress for and attend. She smiled at her naivety of a mere three days ago.
The old red barn stood stoic and silent with the mountains surging skyward in the distance. How many storms had it endured? Her gaze slid sideways to see that Jeff had turned Pearl out to join the horses who dotted the lush field close by and she smiled. Now she would draw.
It was some time later when she heard the tires of a vehicle crunch in the driveway. It must be Sophie returning. She dreaded the sight of Rosa, but knew she couldn’t escape. If only she could make the woman understand she had nothing to worry about as far as Jeff was concerned.
Closing her book, she tucked it under her arm and strolled to the front of the house. But a sleek grey car was parked there. She considered retreating and had even turned away, but a booming voice arrested her.
“Hey, you there! Where’s Sophie Tremblay?” A large beefy man stumped around the front of the car, and, in wide-eyed amazement, Annette found herself wondering how he had managed to fit behind the wheel.
He wore a pair of enormous jeans cinched around his ample girth with a belt, and blue striped suspenders stretched over each shoulder as an additional means of support. It was topped off with a pale green shirt with buttons very near to bursting, and a white straw cowboy hat tipped rakishly to one side. His face was florid and puffy, revealing to the casual observer that self-indulgence was no stranger to this man. Pale watery eyes nearly bugged out of his head with rage. He was angry, but the question was why?
“I ‘ave no idea where she is. She does not live ‘ere,” answered Annette with her best get-out-of-my-face attitude. Honestly, self-importance and arrogance were rolling off this man.
Her terse reply did not stop him, and he advanced on her rapidly, considering his bulk.
“Well, you just tell her I came round to see her, you hear me? She ain’t at the Triple T and I know very well she’s been hidin’ out here on account of the water problems at the ranch. Maybe if she knew what she was doin’ she wouldn’t be driving that place into the ground. Women shouldn’t be runnin’ a ranch. That’s a man’s job.” He came to a stop in front of her, placed meaty hands on his hips, and stared down at her. “That assistant of hers told me to look for her here. I don’t aim to search the countryside for her. You just give her my message and I’ll…”
Annette felt her blood boil. She drew herself up to her full 5’3” and with barely concealed fury she stopped him with a raised hand. “I would not repeat a word of that garbage, even if you paid me to do it. I don’t know who you are, and I can assure you I don’t want to know. I think you should leave.”
If possible, the man’s face grew even redder, and he took a step closer. “Now you look here Frenchie…”
“I think you’d better do as the lady asked,” said a voice from behind the man. It was Jeff, striding toward them. “That’s no way to talk to anyone, let alone my guest and friend. I’ll tell Sophie you called in to see her. Now it’s time for you to go.”
Spluttering and swearing, the man allowed Jeff to take his arm and turn him back toward his car. Only he shook Jeff free and rounded on him. “You lookin’ for trouble, Douglas? I won’t be pushed around by you or anyone else,” he shouted. “I’m not someone to mess with and you know that.”
“Indeed, you’re not,” agreed Jeff calmly. “And it’s Mr. Douglas to you. Now, before you say anything more you’ll regret, I’m asking you to get off my property.”
Without another word, the man stomped back to his car, wrenched open the door, and fired off a few parting words. “I’ll be back to talk to Sophie tomorrow. You make sure she’s somewhere I can find her.”
As the car peeled away in a shower of gravel Jeff turned to Annette. “Are you alright?” he asked solicitously.
“I’m fine, apart from feeling very angry. Who was that boor?”
“That, my dear Annette, was Jim Danbury. One of the men who wants to buy the Triple T Ranch.”