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“It won’t make any difference. The sheriff will take Ed to jail, and the next day, Mom will go and get him out. Then he’ll be nice to us until he starts drinking again.”
“Well, you can come here anytime,” Abner said. “You can even help us work on this sleigh. I believe you know Trevor, here. And this young lady is Miss Maggie.”
“Hi.” Maggie gave the little girls a friendly grin. “Can you tell me your names?”
The older girl squirmed shyly. “I’m Janeen. And my sister is Tammy.” Her gaze swung to Butch, who’d raised his shaggy head. “Is that your big dog over there? Can we pet him?”
“He’s Abner’s dog,” Maggie said. “Is it all right for them to pet him, Abner?”
“Sure. Scratch his ears. He likes that.”
The two girls walked cautiously toward the dog. Janeen held out her fist. Butch sniffed it and thumped his tail. Little hands reached out to stroke and pat. Moments later, the sisters were giggling as the dog tried to lick the salty tear trails from their faces.
“I brought some homemade cookies today,” Maggie said. “They’re in the kitchen. I’ll go and get you some.” She slipped out of the barn door and raced off toward the house.
Unsure of what to say, Trevor had worked in silence, smoothing out the fabric and experimenting with the layout of the pattern. Until now, he hadn’t known about Skip’s family situation. He felt sorry for his former so-called friend. But that didn’t excuse the way Skip and Cody had treated him. That had hurt. It had hurt a lot.
He became aware that Skip was standing behind him, as if waiting for him to speak. “So where’s your friend Cody today?” Trevor asked without looking up from his work.
“He moved,” Skip said. “His mother found a new man who hitched up her trailer behind his pickup and hauled it away. Cody went with them. I don’t even know where.”
“Well,” Trevor said, “if you’re looking for a new friend, it’ll have to be somebody stupider than I am. I’ve learned my lesson—and you two were my teachers.”
Skip didn’t respond, but Trevor could hear him breathing. Trevor kept on working. Part of him wanted to turn around, but he was half afraid he might find the older boy in tears. What would he do then?
Surely, he reasoned, Skip couldn’t take all the blame for the way he was. How would it feel to watch your stepfather beat up your mother time after time, and be helpless to do anything about it? Maybe the only way to ease the hurt would be to hurt somebody else.
Like him.
“I’m sorry, Trevor,” Skip said in a low voice that the others wouldn’t hear. “Cody and I were just having fun, but we were jerks. We got you in trouble. Then we ran off and left you to face the consequences. If you hate me, I don’t blame you.”
Trevor didn’t answer. He didn’t hate Skip, but he’d been so desperate for friends that the hurt had gone deep.
“I heard what your dad did,” Skip said. “How he took you around to the houses we egged and made you apologize and wash all the windows. Do you know that I’d give anything for a dad like that? My real dad would have done that, too. But he died when I was eight—he was working in a gas station and got shot by a robber. My mom was so lost that she married the first man who said nice things to her. I’ve begged her to take the girls and leave him. But she never will.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. It probably won’t make any difference.”
But it had made a difference. Trevor felt something stir, like a knot loosening inside his chest. Skip deserved a second chance—and Trevor could use a friend. The problem was knowing what to say next.
Maggie had come back with the cookies and was passing them around. Abner was talking to the little girls. He had just said something that made them laugh.
Trevor glanced around at Skip. “Hold that side of the cloth down while I measure it,” he said. “It has to be cut just right.”
* * *
After emailing a pitch for a new article, Cooper took a break and walked out onto the porch for some air. In the pasture beyond the yard, the Black Angus cows were grazing on the rich, yellow winter grass. The breeze carried their musky aroma to Cooper’s nostrils. The earthy scent brought back memories of the summer he’d spent on his friend’s ranch.
Judd had mentioned that these cows had been bred and were due to drop their calves in the spring. Their bellies already showed signs of rounding, but the excitement of calving wouldn’t happen here. For that, they’d be herded back to Judd’s place, where they could be watched and tended.
Cooper had seen little of his mysterious neighbor. The hired man did most of the watering and feeding. Judd showed up every few days, usually in his pickup, to check the herd. He didn’t engage in small talk—just a nod and a “Howdy” if Cooper happened to be outside.
Jess was rarely here when Judd came by. Cooper had chided himself for the jealousy that had surged when the two first met. Jess was her own woman. She could like or dislike whom she pleased. He had no claim on her, and her past was none of his business.
Still, his conversation with Grace today had reawakened his curiosity and roused it to a fever pitch. This afternoon, while he was alone, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to do more checking.
He would never confront Jess or question her. All he wanted was to understand her.
Dismissing the guilt that nagged at him, he sat down at the computer and brought up a search. If he’d seen her lovely face before, it could have been in a news article. Back in Seattle the paper he read most frequently was theSeattle Times.He would start there.
Acting on a hunch, he opened the paper’s archives. Maybe if he did a search for FBI and Jessica Graver, he’d get lucky.
