“I know,” Blake said, “even though it’s been weeks.” Then she gave her mother one last squeeze and stepped back. “And I never get tired of getting your letters every week.”
Rosie only smiled and patted her arm. “Go wash up. I know you’re starving and I’ve got your favorite tonight.”
Blake didn’t have to be told twice. She headed for the bathroom and minutes later she was seated at the dining table with Becky to the left of her and her mother at the head of the table and to her right. Then, while she tucked into her grilled chicken Becky gave her an update on all that had been happening in the neighborhood since the last time she’d come home.
“There’s a new boy in my class,” she told Blake. “He’s gross.”
“Becky, that’s not nice.” Rosie gave her a stern look. “In our family if we can’t say something nice we say nothing at all.”
“Yeah, I know, but this kid’s really, really gross. There’s absolutely nothing nice to say about him. He’s way tall and he’s all pimply and stuff and his voice goes high and then it goes low and he sounds weird.” Then she rolled her eyes. “Victoria says he’s cute but she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. But the real reason I think he’s weird is that he keeps staring at me. A lot. He thinks I don’t notice but I do.”
When Becky finally paused to draw breath Blake laid her fork down and tilted her head as she turned her full attention on her sister. “Are you sure you’re not saying that,” she gave her an indulgent smile, “because you like it that he seems so interested in you? Maybe you like him, too, just a little bit?”
“Eew, gross. I wouldn’t like him if he was the last boy on earth. He’s from California and he talks funny.”
“Oh, I see,” Blake said gravely. “That makes all the difference in the world.”
That made Becky frown. “I know you’re teasing me. I’m not stupid.”
Blake only shook her head and smiled but she could tell that her comment had made Becky stop and think. A thoughtful look crept into her sister’s eyes and then she lifted a pinky finger to her lips and began nibbling on the nail. Blake wouldn’t say another word. She would leave Becky to form her own conclusions.
It wasn’t until her sister had gone to bed that Blake got the chance to have a private moment with her mother so they could talk about the cryptic telegram. “What kind of trouble?” she asked Rosie. “What’s Jerome up to now?”
Before Rosie spoke she gave a sigh heavy with frustration. “Your ex is at it again,” she said. “I guess it wasn’t bad enough that he swindled you out of your own business. Now he’s giving everybody in town the impression that the reason you left was because you’d been embezzling funds.”
Blake gasped. “Are you serious? He had the audacity to say something like that after he was the one dipping in the till?”
Rosie’s lips tightened and her brown eyes flashed in obvious anger. “He was interviewed by the local paper and I don’t know what got into him. He started spouting off about his vision for the company and next thing you know he’d started wailing about how much of a challenge it would be to achieve those goals seeing that his business partner had bailed out on him suddenly.”
Blake’s lips curled in disgust. “That snake. I can’t believe he would stoop so low. Stinking liar.”
“I know.” The heat had been creeping up Rosie’s neck as she told the tale and now her face was a furious pink. “And to think, after all you’ve done to build that business, he know turns around and uses you for a scapegoat when he’s the one to blame. He’s the thief.” Her voice was rising as she spoke.
Blake had to reach over and take her hand. “Watch your blood pressure, Mom. I don’t want you to get sick over this.”
“You should have reported him to the police like I told you,” Rosie continued as if she hadn’t heard a word Blake had just said. “The minute you realized he was siphoning money out of the partnership you should have let them lock him up.”
Blake gave Rosie’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I know, Mom. I could have and I should have. But, at the time it happened, how could I? Jerome was my fiancé. When I found out, I was just a week away from becoming his wife.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Before Blake left she’d given Ryder strict instructions. “If you run into any problems, go get Moonwalker,” she’d told him. She’d gone so far as to take him over to the man’s house where she’d done formal introductions and told Moonwalker that if Ryder burned the place down while she was away she was holding her old friend personally responsible. That meant Moonwalker would have to pass by and check on the place at least a couple of times a day. Ryder hadn’t been too happy with that arrangement, not being used to having someone supervise him, but he guessed he would have to get used to it. After all, he was the one who had agreed to being bossed.
In the end it turned out that Moonwalker was a huge help, showing him how to set up the new stove and helping him dismantle Old Blue. Moonwalker even carted off the parts, saying that they were bound to come in handy in his metal works and craft shop. Ryder didn’t mind. It was one less thing to worry about.
The first evening without Blake went smoothly and he was darned proud of himself. He’d been able to tend the bar and had even served sandwiches. There were only a few patrons that evening and he was glad. Word must have gotten out that Blake was away so most of her regulars, Ted included, did not show up.
By the second night the customers had dwindled to a measly three and, as stupid as it was, Ryder couldn’t help it that his ego took a blow from the rapid decline in business. It was a given that Blake was a whole lot easier on the eyes but was he such a turn-off that even the regulars refused to show up?
It was kind of depressing and by day three he felt even further down in the dumps. He was missing Blake like hell. All right, so he was being a downright fool for feeling that way but ever since he’d arrived in Pequoia it was Blake who had made the biggest impression on him. It was Blake, and only Blake, who made him feel he could actually live in a godforsaken place like this.
And now that she was gone he was totally out of sorts. It was no wonder then, that when Peggy Thatcher showed up that afternoon he felt happy to see her, even though he would be at risk of having her chat his ears off.