Pennyroyal Christmas (A Ruthorford Holiday Story Book 1) (6 page)

After checking the area he returned. “No one’s here.”

She followed him. The attic was in shambles—boxes turned over, contents scattered. The armoire doors stood open, one hanging on its hinge. Like a great arm had swept across the shelves, everything was on the floor—statues smashed, cards and envelopes ripped. The trunk was on its back. Everything had been torn apart. Tears blinded her. A scrapbook, worn and old with age, lay in shreds. Even the pictures of her and her mother had been ripped from the pages and lay in pieces on the floor.

“Do you have any idea who might have done this?”

All she could do was shake her head.

“We’ll have a team in here and try to get some prints. Do you have someplace you can stay?”

“Oh. I don’t live here. It was my parents’ home, part of their estate. I just came to see if there was anything I wanted before they sold it.”

Someone called from the front door. The forensics team had arrived and took her prints to eliminate hers from the rest. He handed her a wet wipe and told her she could go.

The young officer took down a number where he could reach her and told her they would call her when it was all right for her to go back inside. He moved the car so she could leave. Kat picked up the boxes, put them in the trunk and backed out of the driveway before she felt the tears on her cheeks. A tightness pressed against her heart. Who could have done this? The violence didn’t feel random.

She talked to Harden as she drove through the drive-through. Going back to her room, she slumped in the chair and forced herself to at least nibble on her one meal for the day. With a cheeseburger half eaten, she dialed Rowe.

“How’s it going?” His chipper comment reminded her he didn’t know.

She explained and heard her voice hitch when she got to the part about the pictures.

Rowe’s voice was deep. “I don’t want you going back in there alone.”

Kat’s hackles rose at the command. She didn’t like commands. She hadn’t as a child and she certainly didn’t now.

He spoke again, softer. “Kat, it’s too dangerous. I can be there tomorrow.”

“You’ve got a ranch to run.”

“At least let me call my brother, John. He’s only a couple of hours away.”

“No. Thank you, Rowe. I’ve got it taken care of. Harden—my dad’s partner—is sending his son over tomorrow to go in with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Um-hmm,” said and felt better and hungrier. She took a bite of burger. “You know,” she started and swallowed, “there is something strange about it. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I will.” She said the last part more to herself.

“Kat, please be careful. Now, that I’ve found you again…,” he let the words trail off.

“Rowe, me, too. Give my love to the boys. I’ll call soon.”

Rowe called John anyway. After a brief explanation and some chiding, John promised to use his connections to look into it, discreetly, of course.

“Anything else I can do for you, little brother?”

“Maybe come home once in a while, big brother. There’s work to do in the winter pasture.”

“I miss you, too,” John let his laughter carry through the phone. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks.”

The work went slow for Kat. As promised, Harden’s son, Jeff, called for her at the lobby desk and followed her over to the house. She had just gotten a call from the police that it was safe to go back inside. It wasn’t something she was looking forward to. Not now, anyway.

She went from room to room, snapping pictures with her digital camera. By the time she’d gotten to the attic, Jeff had the boxes set up and ready. After taking photos of the mess in the attic, she went back down to find a broom and dustpan. She wasn’t leaving her work, even broken. She collected the larger pieces and swept up the shards and dust. Not one piece had escaped the vandalism. Cards were torn, letters in pieces. She put them all in the bag with the broken pieces of her statues.

There were a few things in the trunk that had survived, but not much. Ironically, her Princess Diary was intact, probably because it was locked and there was no key. In the bottom of the trunk was wedged a piece of cardboard, old and faded, making it almost match the interior of the trunk.
A false bottom?
She pulled it out. Underneath were letters and pictures, untouched. She smiled to herself and gingerly placed them in one of the boxes, along with the few other remnants that were salvageable. She’d wait until she got home before going through everything. Not that she didn’t like Jeff. He was great and a big help. But, she wanted to go over everything in privacy when she got home. Neither the trunk nor the armoire was worth taking now. However, on second thought, she set aside the flip-top table and the rush bottom chair.

Having salvaged what she could from the armoire and trunk, she perused the attic. On the other side were the tumbled boxes.

“Hey, Jeff, give me hand over here, will you?” As they turned over the boxes, she realized they hadn’t been opened. When she asked Jeff to go downstairs for a knife, he whipped out a blade she wasn’t sure was even legal. He made short work of the taped tops. Inside, she found old dishes and gewgaws from when she’d lived at home—items from another lifetime. She resealed the boxes and put marks on them.

The moving guys arrived right on schedule and, at her direction, loaded up the items she’d marked. She decided to take a really nice leather chair out of her father’s office with a matching ottoman, a heavy wool wrap in the front closet that was her mother’s and several paintings she recognized and liked. On the last inspection of the house, she added the small jewelry box in her mother’s bathroom.

With the movers loaded and sent on their way, Kat handed the key to Jeff. “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.” She was glad it was over.

“You don’t want anything else. There’s some nice stuff in there.”

“Feel free. I have what I want. Tell your dad thanks. I’m truly grateful.”

She watched him hesitate and waited. Sure enough, he got the courage to speak.

“I worked with…for,” he amended, “your dad on occasion. He never mentioned you.”

“We weren’t close.”

“I did meet your mom at a couple of functions. She was a real nice lady. Never could understand why she was with him.” His face reddened.

“It’s okay. I couldn’t either.”

That seemed to give him courage. “He was a real son-of-a-bitch. Mean. Hard to work for. And there were rumors….” He stopped and looked at her, knowing he’d said too much.

“Please, Jeff. I’d like to know.”

He rushed on, “It was rumored that he had lots of women on the side and treated your mom like shit.”

“I don’t doubt it.” When it became apparent that he wouldn’t say anything else, she walked to her car. “Again, thank your dad for me. And, you take care.”

He held her door. “I will. You know, my dad is nothing like him.”

“I’m sure he’s not.”

Jeff slammed the door shut and waved as she drove off.

Thinking about what he said, she tried to remember her father in a light other than a bigoted, controlling bastard. She thought back to her childhood. He was strict and gruff, most of the time—a man’s man, he would say. She also remembered when his construction company really took hold and they started running in the black. She was too young to understand that. What she did understand was that he took them to Disneyworld on their first, and only, vacation. It was a fantasy come true. She remembered the Magic Kingdom and how they’d done everything she’d wanted. She’d never seen her parents so happy. Kat didn’t want to leave.

As the years passed, he worked more, travelled more, drank more and spent time with them less. Until that fateful summer in Ruthorford. She’d known he could be a gruff man, but to send her away because of her and Rowe never made any sense. Then, what Jeff had said. She just shook her head. They were gone and she would never figure it out.

Chapter Four

“Are you tired?” Rowe asked as they turned off the interstate on the way back from the airport.

“Not particularly,” Kat said, admiring Rowe’s profile. God, it was good to see his tawny face. She studied the line of his strong jaw until the corner of his lip hitched up in acknowledgment of her stare. She felt heat diffuse from her neck into her face. And, having waited a second too long, she was rewarded with a quick lick from the back seat.

“Tramp.” She laughed and reached over her shoulder to scruff his fur. “I missed you, too.”

Rowe glanced over at them and smiled. “That dog runs until he collapses and then he snores.”

“He does love life, doesn’t he?” She petted him a bit more until it was obvious he wanted to leap into the front of the truck. She turned around and simply shook her head. Tramp slid back onto the seat and settled down.

“He definitely doesn’t obey anyone else like that,” Rowe admitted. “How long have you had him?”

“Oh, not that long. A year, maybe.” She got a faraway look. “I was asleep and heard this loud barking. It sounded close and seemed to be coming from the back. I got up, thinking a dog had somehow gotten over my fence. I turned on the light and saw movement in the back corner of the yard. I shined the flashlight on this ragamuffin—he was scrawnier than hell—barking his head off at the back fence. There was a board broken off.”

She glanced lovingly into the back seat before continuing. “Someone had cut through the lock on my gate and gone through the back to break into the house. There was a window pane broken on the back door. I hadn’t heard a thing. But, apparently, this fellow did and snuck up on the burglar. You can imagine the guy’s surprise when he turned around to this growling black beast. From what the police could gather, he took off across the back with Tramp in pursuit and broke the fence fleeing.”

“The cops offered to take him—he had no collar and was dripping wet and muddy from the rain. They couldn’t get near him, though. Every time they tried, he would growl deep and low. I went in and got a towel. We’ve been together ever since.”

She saw Rowe’s look. “Oh, I did try to find his owner. No one answered any of my ads or posters and no one called the vets or pound. The vet said she wasn’t sure he wasn’t feral. However, as long as I was with him, he behaved like a gentleman. I’d step out of the room and all hell would break loose.” She tilted her head and studied Rowe. “Funny, you haven’t had any problem with him.”

Rowe shrugged. “Nope. He’s been great.”

“That’s odd. Anyway, he must have been someone’s at sometime because he was completely housebroken. We had a little talk in the beginning and everything’s been fine since.”

“You do know your rapport with animals is a little beyond the norm?”

“Whose norm?” She flashed a big smile.

“Point taken,” he conceded.

“So where are we go…,” her voice trailed off as she looked in front of her. They were crossing over the bridge into Ruthorford. The sign had been transformed to look like a candy cane with the welcome sign sitting atop, wrapped in greenery.

They were coming into the town a way she hadn’t been before. Ahead, Abbott Bed and Breakfast shined like a star—garland hanging in showy drapes along the porch rails. Large black rockers replaced the wicker chairs, with fat red pillows on the seats and green bows on the back. Sculpted trees twisted and twilled on either side of the entrance. Potted poinsettias lined the steps.

She looked across the street. The tiny Victorian post office had been turned into a gorgeous gingerbread house with door-height candy canes on either side of the entrance.

Kat’s mouth dropped open. “It’s a winter wonderland.”

“I’ll bring you back when it’s dark.”

“I feel guilty. All I got done were pack a few boxes and direct movers. Ruthorford must have been a bustle of activity.”

“Trust me, this is well planned out. Each year, they start in April, at a town meeting. The entire community gets together the Saturday after Thanksgiving. No one does anything but shop on Black Friday. And by Sunday night, the lights are turned on. They work in teams and work all night long. From Abbott Bed and Breakfast, which feeds the hordes, to every business on Main Street, as well as the houses along it, including some on the side streets—more and more of the residents are getting into the act—no surface goes untransformed. Currier and Ives would be proud of this town.”

The truck began to move out past Merc’s. Even it shined in finery.

“Well, I’m impressed.” She turned back around and stifled a yawn.

“You’re tired. Let me get you home.”

“I am a bit. The movers should be here in the morning and I really want to get things unloaded so I can get back to work. I’m very excited about my studio.”

“Well, Teresa dropped off something for dinner. I put it in your refrigerator.”

Kat leaned back against the headrest. “That’s the best news I’ve had in a while.”

They pulled up in front of the cabin. Rowe opened the back door of the truck and Tramp bolted into the darkness. He helped Kat down and got her luggage out of the back, stopping beside her as she looked at the porch. Tiny lights twinkled across the porch roofline. Garland surrounded the door and a huge wreath hung in the center.

She turned to Rowe. “You did this?”

“I had some help,” he admitted and led the way to the door.

She opened the door and stepped inside, letting the coziness hug her. The smell of fresh pine assailed her senses. The mantel was covered in fresh garland with big red candles positioned on either end. Even her dining table had a basket of greens and colored ornaments in the center.

“Oh, Rowe…,” she sighed, walking through, letting the sights warm her.

Rowe set her luggage down in the hall leading to the bedroom and started for the front door.

“Wait!” she called.

He held the door open as Tramp paraded in, passed both of them and went to his bowl to sniff.

Rowe closed the door. “I was just letting Tramp in.”

Kat closed her eyes, embarrassed.

She felt his hands ease up her arms, caress her neck, and then coach her chin up just a little. She opened her eyes and looked into obsidian orbs. His breath played against her lips, like a warm feather, as he spoke. “You know what I want more than anything?”

“Yes,” she breathed back at him.

His mouth descended on hers, seeking. She felt the heat course through her body and she moved into the circle of his arms. The kiss deepened and their tongues explored. She could feel his heart pound against hers.

He lifted his head and looked at her. “I feel we need to talk. There is so much between us and yet so much unspoken.”

She bit down on her lower lip and nodded. “You mean about what happened.”

He stepped back. “Yes.”

“Rowe, it was a lifetime ago.”

“Kat, for you. For me it was like yesterday. You disappeared. I heard them yelling. Mostly him, actually. I’ve never heard anyone so angry.” He turned and walked into the kitchen, took a couple of bottles out of the refrigerator, removed the caps and handed her one.

She let the carbonation burn down her throat. “Rowe. I don’t know much about what happened. I’ve had to live with the fact that they sent me away with no explanation and I never saw them again. I adjusted. Obviously, so did you.” Her voice hardened. “I am thrilled to see you again. I really am. I expected you to be married and settled down with kids. The fact that you aren’t excites me and scares me at the same time.”

“I took me a long time but, eventually, I moved forward. I need some time to go through my mother’s things. What little remains.” She shook her head, walked over to the counter and slammed the drink bottle down.

She spun back to face him resting her hands against the counter. “What happened up there so pisses me off. It was pure meanness. Had they known those pieces were one of a kind and valuable, I doubt they would have destroyed them. But, they did. My small connections to my mom, they tried to take away from me. Give me a few days to go through the boxes. Let me grieve. Then we’ll start anew.” The plea was in her eyes.

He smiled. “I’m not going anywhere. You call me when you’re ready.” He walked to the door. Tramp got up and followed. “Not tonight, boy. Momma’s home.”

Tramp stopped, turned back and sat, facing Kat. She patted him on the head as she walked over to the door behind Rowe. “I’ll call. I promise.” She stepped on tiptoe and let her warm mouth take his.

He returned the kiss but stopped before he let it go any further. “Keep that up and I won’t be the gentleman.”

Her eyes twinkled, “Say that in a week.”

He moaned and thrust his hand through this hair. “Don’t forget to eat.”

Shock etched her features. “Oh. I forgot. Do you—?”

He laughed. “Thanks. Another time.”

“Tell everyone thank you for me. We’ll go by later so I can personally thank them.”

She watched until the rear lights of his truck disappeared beyond the rise in the road. Tramps whimper had her closing the door. “I know. Me, too. We’ll just have to have dinner with each other, okay.” In response, he walked over to his bowl and stood. She shook her head and filled the bowl. “At least you know where your priorities lay.” He let out a soft woof of thanks and dipped his head into his bowl.

****

Tramp met the truck as it pulled into the gravel drive, barking and leaping. Rowe rolled down the window, laughing. “I missed you, too, fella. Is your momma home?”

The dog turned and took off running up the drive, ahead of the truck. As Rowe pulled in front of the cabin, Tramp jumped up on the porch and scratched at the door. Rowe was out of the truck and untying the huge fir when Tramp’s whine stopped him.

Tramp pawed at the door again, stopped, turned and leapt from the porch, raced over to Rowe, then back to the door.

Rowe didn’t need to be told twice. He was on the porch in two steps.

“Kat,” he yelled and pounded on the door. He tried the knob, only to find it locked.

He ran to the window. Kat lay slumped on her side in front of the couch, objects and papers from an open box scattered about her. He pounded on the window. Nothing.

Tramp barked beside him.

Rowe grabbed the limb leaning next to the door and swung at the window, breaking the glass. Before he could get all the glass cleared away, Tramp had leapt through and was over by Kat, licking her face. There was no response.

Glass crunched under Rowe’s feet as he stepped through the window. He was by her side in an instant. Brushing her hair from her face, he leaned close. Her breathing was shallow, her lips blue, and her skin cold to the touch.

“Kat?” he called, slapping her cheek. When she didn’t respond, he lifted her and hurried to the door, shifting her to unlatch the bolt. Tramp followed them to the truck, whining and dancing around his legs. Gently sitting her inside the truck, Rowe pulled out his cell phone and hit 911, giving the information he could.

About that moment, Kat moaned, grabbed her head, leaned out of the truck, retching.

Rowe moved his feet back just far enough to avoid getting vomit on his boots, keeping his hands on her to steady her. He handed her a cloth from his pocket.

“What happened?” She wiped her mouth.

He watched her face screw up in agony and her eyes close. He grabbed her as she fell forward, pulling her into his arms. Sirens in the distance grew louder. He started up the drive with Kat limp in his arms. The ambulance stopped beside him; the EMT leapt out. Rowe moved around to the back of the vehicle with her in his arms. They flung open the doors and grabbed a gurney, letting the legs drop to the ground. Rowe placed her gently on the gurney and stepped back as they applied the oxygen mask.

She looked so frail lying there, her hand dangling off the side of the gurney.

Please, Kat, don’t leave me.

As the ambulance circled in front of the cabin to leave, the fire department showed up, blocking Rowe in. Samuel, the Ruthorford Sheriff, pulled up behind the fire engine. Rowe slammed his fist into the steering wheel and turned off the engine, watching the ambulance disappear down the drive, sirens blaring. Tramp, sitting next to him, howled.

Samuel rushed over, along with the fire captain. Rowe climbed out and let Tramp jump down.