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“YOU DON’T KNOW HOW delighted I am to see you! I never would have recognized you. Come on, let’s sit outside and finish our drinks.”
Charlie carried the glasses and followed. Large wicker chairs with comfortable cushions covered in a floral fabric awaited them. Janelle propped up her foot and got settled as Jason’s ATV disappeared behind the barn in a cloud of dust. Janelle’s eyes narrowed as she sipped her lemonade.
“Did I notice some tension between you and Jason?” Her aunt was watching her carefully. “I thought I detected a bit of frost in the air, and I didn’t hear you thank him for picking you up.”
Charlie studiously observed the condensation rolling down the side of her glass. “You’re right,” she murmured. “I kinda snapped at him when he first showed up.”
“Why?” Janelle leaned forward and Charlie raised her eyes. Her aunt’s brow was furrowed and her green eyes were troubled.
Charlie took a deep breath. “This is going to sound really lame, but when I got off the bus and nobody was there I got the strangest feeling. Almost as though I’d been rejected.” She held up a hand. “I know, it was completely irrational, but I was unceremoniously dumped by a boyfriend recently and I suppose it affected me in ways I’m only now beginning to recognize.”
Janelle sat back, her eyes focused on something in the distance.
“That must have been tough,” she said eventually. “If you need to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”
“Thanks.” The tension that had been building ever since she got off the bus disappeared with the kind words. “I’ll make sure I apologize to him tomorrow.”
Janelle nodded. “Tell you what. While you’re here, you can dump on me all you want, but don’t take it out on Jason. I like him, and I have a close working relationship with his family. They lease most of my land, and Jason’s been taking care of the chickens since he was a kid. He’s a great help to me around here.” She cocked her head to one side. “Is that a deal?”
“That’s a deal.” Charlie nodded thoughtfully. “I hope he forgives me.”
Janelle lifted her shoulders. “That’s up to you, isn’t it?” It was more of a statement than a question. She reached over and patted Charlie on the knee. “Know something? I think we’re going to get along just fine.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Come on inside. You can help me get some dinner on the table and then I’ll show you to your room. You must be beat.”
* * *
CHARLIE WOKE SLOWLY the next morning and was surprised that she knew exactly where she was. Dappled sunlight danced across the ceiling and the leaves on the trees outside her bedroom window rustled in the morning breeze. The faded quilt on the bed was softened with age but was still beautiful, pale ivory picked out with pink and lavender. Stretching luxuriously, Charlie was about to roll over and go back to sleep when she heard voices in the yard below.
She snatched her housecoat from the foot of the bed and crossed to the window. Jason’s ATV was parked beside the barn and he was speaking to Janelle, who stood in the open doorway. Her aunt’s long dark hair was held back in a single braid as it had been yesterday, and she wore jeans and a T-shirt. Although their voices floated across the yard, she couldn’t quite make out the words. As she watched, they laughed together, and then still laughing, her aunt turned on her crutches and went back into the barn while Jason walked toward a small building on the other side of the pond.
Chickens appeared from all over the yard, clustering around his feet. “All right, all right,” she heard him say with a smile in his voice. “I’m coming.” He disappeared from view and then re-appeared a minute later, scattering feed on the ground. The chickens spread out, pecking industriously, and he poured the remaining feed into a metal container before ducking back into the shed.
* * *
REVIVED BY A REFRESHING shower, Charlie wiped steam away from the mirror and studied her reflection. She raked her fingers through her springy curls and moved closer to the mirror, pleased with what she saw. The dark circles that had rimmed her eyes yesterday were already fading. “Good” she murmured to herself, then selected an appropriate outfit from her trunk. She wanted to look good when she saw Jason this morning.
Humming to herself she ran lightly down the stairs. The kitchen was serenely quiet and she tilted her head to one side, listening for the faint echo of voices she’d heard last night. She looked around, leery of being caught fantasizing over imaginary ghosts... her willingness to believe in them had already caused enough trouble.
A plate of muffins sat in the center of the table and she wondered what had happened to the lavender that had perfumed the air last night. A note from Janelle lay propped up against the muffins, urging her to help herself to orange juice from the fridge. She poured a glass for herself and then balancing the juice and muffin she opened the screen door and stepped outside. Wide steps led down to the back yard, flanked by terracotta pots of bright red geraniums on every other step. With a sigh of pleasure she sat down in a shaft of sunlight and bit into the muffin. The leaves of the weeping willow stirred in the slight breeze, brilliant spears of silver in the pale morning sun.
The sound of splashing water drew her attention. Jason was rinsing out a large glass jug of water. He was dressed much like yesterday; faded jeans hugged his thighs and today he wore a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His arms and the V of skin at his neck were deeply tanned. His hands were sure and confident as he went about his tasks and she couldn’t help comparing him to Carson. She gave a silent, strangled laugh. There was no comparison between her former boyfriend and this man. Muffin forgotten, she watched him work, unable to tear her eyes away from his muscled arms, or the way his shirt tucked into the narrow waist of his jeans. She really had to control the direction of her thoughts. At least until she got the apology out of the way.
She set aside the muffin, brushed some crumbs from her tank top and crossed to where he was placing the water bottle upside down in a tray.
“Good morning,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nervousness.
He looked up and she wondered how eyes could be cool and hot at the same time. “Good morning to you.” He took in her outfit and the corner of his mouth hitched up in a smile as his gaze fastened on her sandals. “You may want to rethink your footwear around here.”
She glanced down. Her toenails were painted a soft pink. When she’d been at the day spa for her last pedicure the colour had seemed perfect. She looked up again. “Why is that?” she challenged. Why did he have to bring out the worst in her? She was supposed to be apologizing, for heaven’s sake!
“Because this is a farmyard.” He hiked his head toward the ducks. “It can get messy around here.”
“Messy?” She turned to survey the yard, which was dotted with slimy duck droppings. “Oh, I see what you mean. Well, I’m not unpacked yet.”
He nodded slowly. “I see.” He reached for a stiff brush that leaned up against the building and then turned back to her. “Of course a city slicker like you wouldn’t know what to expect on a farm.”
Charlie bristled. “And I suppose you know all about city life? Look at you. You live out here in the middle of nowhere!” She struggled for control. This conversation was not going the way she had planned it. She glared at him, daring him to say something else.
He pulled back, evidently surprised by her outburst. “I’ve got news for you, City Girl. I like living here.” Flashing eyes signaled his building anger. “We may seem like country hicks to you, but at least we know how to be polite.” He boldly looked her up and down. “I was going to say you look nice this morning, but you would have found a way to twist that around, wouldn’t you? Now I’d better get on with my chores.” Turning his back, he stooped to enter the chicken coop, leaving her standing in the sunshine, trembling with rage.
“I’m polite.” Her voice quavered, but she didn’t care. She followed him to the door of the chicken coop. “I’m so damned polite that I came out here this morning to apologize to you. I forgot to thank you for picking me up yesterday.” She sucked in a deep breath and turned away so he wouldn’t see that she was close to tears. But she needn’t have bothered. His back was to her in the gloom of the chicken coop and he didn’t turn around. She stood for a moment, waiting for him to acknowledge her but when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to respond, she sighed and walked toward the barn.
Somehow she made it across the yard, unaware of the cool blue eyes watching her progress.
She paused in the open door of the barn. Janelle was sitting in a shaft of light from a skylight, her foot propped up on a stool.
Charlie didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath. She let it out in a long, slow whoosh of air. “Well, that went well,” she announced. There was no mistaking the irony in her voice.
Janelle lifted a pair of safety goggles away from her eyes and shoved them up on her head. A fine layer of white dust covered her face and clothes, as well as everything surrounding her worktable. She set down a rasp, removed her gloves and ran a hand lovingly over the sculpture she was working on. Then she looked at Charlie. “What happened?”
Charlie looked around the workshop in amazement, her distress momentarily forgotten. “Are you a sculptor? I didn’t know that.” She walked slowly around a completed polar bear and cub, examining it from all sides. “This is beautiful. Do you do mostly animals?”
“Animals, birds, stylized people, abstracts.” Janelle scratched her nose. “That’s why I couldn’t meet you yesterday. An architect from Regina saw some of my work and wanted to meet me. I couldn’t turn him down. They’re designing a new office building and they want me to come up with a couple of designs for the lobby.”
“What a great way to make a living.” Charlie’s gaze darted around the studio, taking in various work in progress, and raw blocks of material.
“Well now, I wouldn’t go that far.” Janelle grinned. “I couldn’t get by without what Jason and his brother pay me to lease the farmland, plus I have the income from The Light Fantastic, even though it’s only open three nights a week.”
“The what?”
Janelle shook her head sadly, causing a nimbus of granite dust to form around her head. “Your Mom didn’t tell you anything about me, did she? The Light Fantastic is the official name of a dance hall in Clearwater Springs, and I own it. The locals call it The Trip, as in ‘trip the light fantastic’.”
“I’ve heard that expression. It means to dance. Must have come up in an old Fred Astaire movie or something. But a real honest to goodness dance hall? I didn’t know such things existed anymore.”
Janelle edged forward on her seat, eagerness lighting up her eyes. “It’s a beautiful old heritage building in the center of town. It was built back in the 1920s and it’s right on the lakefront. I got word that a developer was going to buy it and build a modern hotel complex, so I bought it with the insurance settlement when your Uncle Matt died.” She looked past Charlie to the farmyard beyond and her expression softened. “I’ve never regretted buying the dance hall, but my heart is here, on this land. This farm has been in the family for several generations. That’s why I don’t sell it.” She drifted with her thoughts for a few moments. “But that’s enough about me. What’s got you upset on such a beautiful morning?”
Charlie’s shoulders slumped. “I got into another row with Jason. I’m sorry Janelle, but there’s just something about him that gets my back up.”
Janelle frowned. “He must have said something to set you off.”
Charlie looked down at her feet. Her sandals were already covered with dust and some had settled between her toes. “He said I should rethink my footwear.”
Janelle shrugged. “It looks like he was right.”
“He said a city girl wouldn’t know what to expect on a farm, and I’m afraid we exchanged a few heated words about city people versus country people.”
Janelle looked past her, scanned the yard. “I’ll just bet he loved that.”
There was something about the way her aunt had spoken. “What do you mean?”
“Well...” Janelle’s voice trailed off. She appeared to be making up her mind whether or not to say anything more.
“Is there something I should know?”
Janelle grabbed her water bottle and took a drink. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about Jason’s personal life, but let’s just say that he’s learned to be cautious when it comes to women from the city.”
“Is that it? Is that all you’re going to tell me?”
“That’s it. If he wants you to know more, he’ll tell you.” Janelle gave a wry smile. “But the way you two are carrying on, you may never speak again. Which is unfortunate, because he was asking about you this morning. You know, whether or not you’re involved with anyone.”
“Really? Then I take it he’s not married.” Charlie took a step closer. “What did you say?”
“I said that as far as I know, you’re not involved, but that if he wanted more details he’d have to ask you himself. And no, he’s definitely not married.”
Charlie couldn’t hold back a smile. “That’s interesting.”
Janelle rolled her eyes. “You two had better make up your minds. I don’t think I can take much more of this.” She grinned. “Now give me a couple more hours to work, and we’ll have some dinner and go down to The Trip. I usually put in an appearance on the weekends.”
“What should I wear?” Charlie did a mental inventory of the clothes in her trunk.
“Anything you like. The place is usually packed, especially in the summer. Some people dress up and some just come as they are.” She adjusted her goggles. “By the way, if you’re a reader, there are some books up in the attic.”
“Thanks, Janelle.” Charlie kissed her on the cheek then sputtered as she wiped away the dust.
“Go on, get out of here.” Janelle’s laugh was deep and throaty. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
* * *
CHARLIE WENT BACK INSIDE the silent farmhouse. The spacious, high-ceilinged rooms contrasted sharply with her condo back in Calgary. In a corner of the kitchen, Thomas lay curled in a high-backed rocking chair. He lifted his head and blinked, regarding her with eyes that were somewhere between green and gold. Then adjusting his position ever so slightly, he returned to the serious work of sleeping.
Hardwood flooring in the hall gleamed with the rich patina of age. The staircase leading to the second floor rose on broad steps, worn in the center from countless feet over the years. Standing at the foot of the stairs, Charlie was enveloped by the sense of family that permeated the house. She could almost see young children creeping silently downstairs on a Christmas morning, stepping carefully to avoid telltale creaks. As she walked up the stairs she trailed her fingers along the banister, and was assailed by an image of children sliding down the sturdy rail. The picture was so vivid she could hear the laughter and feel the warm embrace of loving parents as they waited at the bottom.
With a soft sigh she stopped on the landing. On the walls, black and white portraits stared down at her as though watching her every move. Ornate frames, several skillfully carved and adorned in gold leaf, held images of people she assumed were previous inhabitants of the rambling home. She moved down the hall, studying each face. In one carefully posed portrait, a stony faced man stood behind a seated woman, one hand resting possessively on her shoulder. Lace trim peeked out from the high neck of the woman’s dress, the only visible adornment. The woman’s eyes were cold and unfeeling. Charlie knew instinctively that this couple had not been among the loving voices she’d just imagined.
On the opposite wall, simply framed, a young woman posed alone. Her hair was parted in the middle and pulled back in a loose bun. Generous lips seemed about to smile, but there was heartache in woman’s dark eyes. She was hauntingly beautiful and Charlie shivered, hurrying to the end of the hallway toward the door leading to the attic.
She opened the door and looked up, daunted by the confining space. How badly did she want to check out the attic? She’d never been fond of enclosed spaces, her discomfort bordering on claustrophobia. But the attic called to her in a way she couldn’t explain. She took a deep breath and reached for the pull chain to turn on the light. Edgy and nervous at the prospect of the steep, narrow stairway, she didn’t stop to ask herself how she’d known the chain would be there. The low-wattage light bulb cast barely enough light, but something drew her on; some inexplicable knowledge that beyond the stairwell was a cozy haven where dreams were free to take flight.
The door at the top of the stairs opened easily and Charlie stepped into a space filled with muted, golden light. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, willing her pounding heart to slow as she took in her surroundings.
