Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny's Lair (18 page)

Aiden shoved the door to the solid farmhouse open, saying, “Jesus, Jeremy. I just moved out a few months ago—it’s not like they changed the locks!”

“God, I wish!”

His sister Elaine was there, being her usual irritating self. “Here, Jeremy, let me take one of those from you,” she said sweetly, smiling at Jeremy in that saccharine way that usually meant she’d done something horrible that Aiden was going to get in trouble for. Their father had once driven all the way to Boulder with a bag of chicken feathers
open
in the back of the truck, because she’d heard their dad tell Aiden to take them out of the truck, and she’d put them back without telling him. Fifty miles of chicken feathers, and their father hadn’t noticed until he got there, and then he’d called up special just to chew Aiden out.
Anything
to shove a stick between Aiden’s jaws and watch him worry himself bloody.

“Thank you, Miss Elaine,” Jeremy said, smiling gently. “That’s very kind of you.”

“No worries.” She smiled back, and Aiden glared at her.

“What?” she demanded.

Aiden shook his head distrustfully. “Did you put gum in our seat? Or spray-paint my name on one of the sheep? Or steal Dad’s hammer again?”

She stuck out her tongue. “No, moron. I just wanted to welcome Jeremy.”

“But Miss Elaine, we know each other from the store!” Jeremy protested, and Elaine nodded, sending her brother a superior look.

“
Exactly
.
Mom figured that if you saw me and knew I didn’t bite, maybe the rest of the meal wouldn’t freak you out quite so bad.”

Jeremy’s glare smacked Aiden right upside the head. “You told your mother I was freaked out?”

Aiden glared back. “Three years, Jer, and I spent all my free time in your company. And this is your first time over. You think she didn’t figure that out for herself?”

Jeremy thrust out his lower lip, swollen with worrying, and Aiden glared at his sister just because she was there.

“Don’t look at me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re the one who hurt his feelings.”

“He did not,” Jeremy muttered, and then, from nowhere, he pulled out the charming, rakish man who had so shocked Aiden when they’d gone to buy a drum carder that a nice woman was not looking to sell. “Your brother’s a gentleman,” he said, “and so am I. Here, you carry that pie right there, young lady, and I’ll take this one, and we can go say hi to your mama!”

He smiled brightly and flashed what would have been his dimple if his scars hadn’t interfered.

And Elaine ate it up with a fork. “I’m sure she’d like that—follow me!”

Jeremy did, talking genially along the way about the two kinds of pie and how the bananas at the grocery store were not quite ripe when he went shopping but he never did see an apple that couldn’t be cooked and candied into submission. Elaine responded about pecans and recipes, and the whole time her voice held a surprised note, like she hadn’t been prepared for a real person, with a personality and references to reality and everything.

A tiny spring in Aiden’s stomach uncoiled, because it looked like maybe Jeremy’s terrors were unfounded—and Aiden’s terror that Jeremy would take the magic way-back machine to the time when he couldn’t shut up to save his life might also have been a phantom menace, washed away by time and trauma.

When he got to the kitchen, Jeremy was setting down his pie on the counter and offering to help set the table, and Aiden’s mother was looking at Jeremy skeptically.

“Of course you can help, but it’s not necessary. Elaine has been pretty damned useless today, I think she’s got next.”

“Mom!” Elaine complained. “I was
reading
.”

Jeremy’s eyes went wide and worshipful, and he took the placemats from Elaine’s hands before she could start distributing them around the big table.

“Now, reading isn’t useless,” he said sincerely. “Reading, that’s—that’s all sorts of things. It’s knowledge and dreaming and planning. I didn’t read much until I—” He stopped and swallowed, and Aiden felt the world open out under his feet.

“Until you came to Granby,” he supplied, and Jeremy looked up at him, locking eyes and smiling.

“Yeah,” he said, and only Aiden knew his voice was weak. “Until I came to Granby, but your boy here, he was real helpful. We hit up every used-book sale, every garage sale, every library sale, and all that reading, that improved the hell, I mean heck, out of me. It sure did give me a glimpse into a larger world, that’s for sure.”

“That’s true,” Aiden’s mom replied, stirring something at the yellow stove. The kitchen was old, and the wallpaper and tile probably dated back to the seventies—it was all yellow, orange, and avocado green—but it was the first place Aiden could ever remember doing homework, and it had always been a comfort to him. Until now, when Jeremy was dying inside trying not to mention his time in prison. “My problem isn’t that she’s reading, it’s that she’s reading romances instead of her college work, and that’s not going to get her a job when she gets out of school.”

“Now that’s not necessarily true,” Jeremy countered, winking at Elaine. “There’s book reviewers and publicists and editors—I read a lot of those books, and I’ve always thought there was an incredible number of people who go into making one. Not just the authors, either!”

“Aiden, marry him or I will.” Elaine had moved to the other side of the table so she could stand next to Aiden and let Jeremy do all the work.

“What are you so happy about?” he asked, wondering if Jeremy was sweating as much as he was.

“He’s awesome! Listen to him—where did he learn to think like that?”

Aiden opened his mouth to say “Prison!” when he realized that was
exactly
what Jeremy was afraid of.

“Oh my God,” he said now in wonder.

“What’s wrong with you?” Elaine’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail like their mother’s, and Aiden’s face was the same small-boned, heart shape as well. Did she irritate him so much because she looked like his twin? It didn’t matter. He’d had an epiphany, and an important one.

“Three years, and I couldn’t figure out why he talked when he was nervous. Now I know.”

“Is he nervous now?” Elaine asked, puzzled. “He seems perfectly normal to me.”

Jeremy was going on earnestly about how almost anything in the house could be broken down to the labor and production of where it came from, and Aiden took deep breaths and tried to remember that this
was
his home, and it
was
his happy place. How could he expect Jeremy to relax if he couldn’t?

“He’s dying a little on the inside,” Aiden said, smiling because it was true, but Jeremy wasn’t letting on. “But he’s tougher than he looks.”

Jeremy glanced up at him and smiled. “I’m sorry—I am talking a stretch. Aiden, your mom just asked about Ariadne, and I thought maybe you’d want to listen in to this part as I explained what we had in mind.”

Aiden nodded and stepped forward to get the glasses. He added a few words here and there, but mostly he just let Jeremy stay in his stride.

And boy could his man spin sunshine.

He started talking about the prizes first. There was the blanket the two of them had already started working on, and stuff from the mill, of course, but Jeremy had already made a list of people who knew Ariadne and might offer things to win in the raffle. He mentioned the folks at the hardware store, the grocery store, the local quilting guild, the lumberyard, and even the place that serviced Ariadne’s car, because she
had
made so many friends in Granby.

“Have you talked to Rory?” Aiden’s mom asked curiously. “His paintings are actually really beautiful—he sells them in Denver for a whole lot of money.”

Jeremy and Aiden met eyes, and Jeremy shook his head.

“Jeremy doesn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, Mom. He’s still a little skittish about taking the lead on this.”

Susan Rhodes smiled. “Well, hon, I think you’re doing a good job. It doesn’t get Elaine off the hook, but—”

Suddenly Jeremy was looking at Aiden’s sister with a luminous smile. “Wait a minute,” he said, eyes big. “Elaine—you could help too!”

Aiden’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh hell—Jeremy—”

“No! She can
read
.
What do you think she can
write
? Maybe—” He paused, seeming to remember himself, and just that quickly he was the terrified man who had walked in.

“Never mind,” he mumbled, abruptly setting the last of the silverware down in the middle of the table.

While they’d been talking, Aiden had become aware of his little brothers and sisters filtering into the front room to build a Lego fort complete with little pink dolls to man the battlements and stuffed animals to wage the battles.

“You know,” Jeremy said, faking a smile and popping a sweat, “I think I’ll go see what they’re playing in there. Do you think maybe one of them could show me the puppies, Aiden? I reckon I remember their names from the time in the store.”

Aiden looked at him and nodded, recognizing the signs of Jeremy barely able to hold it together. “Yeah, Jer. Here. I’ll show you. They’re probably out in the garage, right, Mom?”

“Oh, goodness, yes. They’re only a few weeks old, Jeremy—we wanted to keep them out of all the hubbub when everybody’s inside.”

Jeremy nodded weakly. “That’s only sensible, ma’am,” he said, nodding. “Aiden?”

His name was naked pleading, and Aiden responded with as much reassurance as he had in him. “This way, Jer,” he said, his voice soft. As Aiden went through the back of the kitchen to the garage, he felt Jeremy’s hot, clammy presence at his side, and when Jeremy fumbled for his hand, he caught it quick and firm.

Aiden’s dad was probably out feeding stock; otherwise he would have been tinkering in the garage workshop. The space was tidy but not “kitchen clean”—engines got taken apart there, and dressers went there to be sawed and glued. Generally you could sweep, dust, and clean all you wanted, but when you used machines, things got dirty.

“Here’s the puppies,” Aiden called, happy for the bite of cold in the air.

The puppies weren’t chilly, though. They were sitting in a corner in a big crate filled with blankets, with an oil heater next door. They were probably the most comfortable critters in the whole damned house.

Jeremy sank to his knees gratefully and held out his hands to the crawling, grunting, whimpering furry little bodies of impossible cute.

A few of them came to lick his fingers with curious tongues, and then, probably tasting the salt, swarmed over him, chunky little tails wagging, little snouts snuffling. Dicey, the mama dog, was something silky haired, like an Irish setter or a golden retriever, mixed with something wide at the chest, like a rottweiler, but with less spectacular markings.

Whoever the father was, the resulting genetic potpourri was redolent in snubbed snouts, curly hair, and oddball body types. Tall and thin? Short and thick? Dense curly blond fur? Sparse wiry black fur? The nine creatures in the box with the mama had it
all.

Jeremy played quietly for a moment, talking to them like an indulgent teacher to naughty schoolchildren. He tussled with the rambunctious ones and fondled the affectionate ones and reprimanded the bitey ones, finally settling on a little short-haired love sponge with black-and-white spots and cowlicks.

“That’s the one you want to keep?” Aiden asked, thinking if that puppy could make Jeremy feel better about what had just gone through his head, Aiden would surely love it.

Jeremy looked up, startled. “Now, I don’t know if we’re going to
keep
it,” he said, shrugging. “Boy, they’re not yet old enough to be leaving their mama—”

“They’re six weeks old,” Aiden said, squatting down next to him. “And they’ve had all their shots. If we pick that one out, Mom’ll save him? Her?”

Jeremy lifted the little one’s tail, and the pup stayed amazingly still. “That would be a girl,” he said, smiling faintly.

“So she’ll keep the girl for another six weeks, and
then
we can get her.”

Jeremy nodded and cuddled the poor thing to his chest tightly, almost in a fit of fear. “That’s a real thing,” he said, his voice broken like a glass jar. “We will go home and come back, and this puppy will come home with us, won’t she?”

Aiden kissed his shoulder, closing his eyes against the sweat and the sudden fear. “Absolutely.”

Aiden could hear him swallow. “And we’re living in a house, and the bank has my signature on paper, and I’m paying a mortgage.”

Aiden barked a little laugh, because Ben was giving them a pretty spectacular break on the payments. “Yeah, Jer. We’re doing that.”

The puppy started to lick Jeremy’s chin slowly and methodically, and Jeremy fondled short triangular ears.

“So if I asked your sister to put an ad in the paper once we had a caterer and prizes and people to set up and take down—that would be real. She’d be putting her name on something that would actually
happen
, right? That would be real?”

Oh.

“It’s a real good idea,” Aiden said. “Me and Craw wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Jeremy nodded. “You would have,” he said confidently, like Aiden and Craw could do anything.

“Maybe,” Aiden conceded with a grunt. “But if you go in and ask Elaine, she’ll be all excited about it. If I go in and ask her, she’ll tell me to fuck off.”

Jeremy had been privy to Aiden bitching about his sister for the last three years. He turned now and winked at Aiden with just enough of a smile for Aiden to know that he was trying for some of his confidence back. “Well, that’s ’cause you’re her brother,” he said. “You can’t flirt with your brother, that’s just seven shades of wrong.”

“Sure is,” Aiden agreed heartily. “You ’bout ready to go back inside now, Jer? You haven’t even met my dad yet.”

Jeremy nodded, but he didn’t move from his spot with the puppy. The poor thing had exhausted herself in the licking, and Jeremy smoothed his hand over her small, blocky skull.

“This one,” he whispered, nuzzling the baby behind the perky little ears. “Tell your mama we’ll take this one, as long as you’ll help me shop so we have all the stuff she needs.”