Keeping Victoria's Secret (31 page)

Ingredients:

3 1/2 lb. fresh chicken, cut into 8
pieces

1 lb. Italian sausage

1 large sweet onion, sliced into thin
wedges

12 whole cloves garlic

4 medium russet potatoes, sliced into long
wedges (like steak fries)

1/4 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons dried parsley

2 tablespoons dried basil

1 tablespoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

Wash and pat dry chicken parts and combine
with potatoes, onions, and garlic in a large mixing bowl. Add olive
oil and spices, mixing thoroughly until everything is well coated
with oil and spices. Line a half-sheet pan with heavy-duty foil.
Pour in the mixture and arrange chicken evenly on top, skin side
up. Nestle sausage links between chicken. Place pan in pre-heated
400F degree oven and cook for about 45 to 50 minutes until well
browned and chicken juices run clear.

Jack came through the back door looking for
the lunch Vicky and Diane had promised. “Hey there,” he said
nodding to the others. His face broke into a stupid grin as he eyed
his friend Joe, with his arm possessively around Marsha’s waist.
Yes! He did a mental arm pump. With the competition sidelined by
Victoria’s friend, things were looking up.

The girls had an impromptu buffet of cold
chicken, sandwiches, and salads laid out. Arranging the dishes on
the kitchen table, Diane stepped back and smiled at Vicky. “It
looks so good.”

Vicky put a pitcher on the table and looked
around at her friends. “Anyone want ice tea? I just made a fresh
pitcher.”

Glancing at Jack, she saw he had a
mischievous grin plastered all over his face. What’s up with that?
Following his gaze, she saw he was watching Joe whispering
intimately to Marsha, pulling her close. She had the distinct
impression that something had changed while she was at church, but
wasn’t precisely sure what it was. Marsha certainly looked happy
with Joe’s attention.

Diane looked around the kitchen puzzled,
asking, “Jack, where’s John? Doesn’t he want lunch?”

“He umm, said he had to take off.”

“Marsha and I just had breakfast in town, but
tea sounds good. Want some tea Marsha?” said Joe, turning to her
with a smile.

“Sure. Let me get it.” Marsha lifted the
pitcher and began to fill glasses. “Vick, this is so nice of
you.”

Sitting down at the table filled with food,
Vicky asked, “So, who’s going to eat all this?”

Jack pulled out a chair next to her and sat
down. “It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it. Victoria and
Diane went to a lot of trouble.” Quickly he filled a plate and dug
in. Still grinning, he chewed and moaned with pleasure, reaching
for the salad. “Victoria, this is incredible.”

Joe looked over the table with interest and
sat down. “I guess I could eat something.”

Marsha watched in amazement as he filled a
plate and began to dig in.

Vicky and her friend were relaxing after
breakfast on the porch. It was Monday morning, their weekend was
over, and Marsha needed to be back to work on Tuesday. Smiling,
Vicky gave her friend a knowing look.

“You and Joe seemed to really hit it
off!”

“Oh I know. I really had a great time with
him Vick; I can’t thank you enough for inviting me. You didn’t tell
me you were hiding Joe Vandersmoot up here. I plan to get to know
him a whole lot better.”

“See Marsha, didn’t I tell you the other
night you’d find someone else after dumping Frank what’s his
name?”

“Yeah. You did. Oh, did I tell you? Joe’s
asked me to have lunch with him at his place today. He lives in an
old Victorian house he’s fixing up. Sounds totally awesome! He told
me I couldn’t leave Pippen’s Grove without seeing all the work he’s
done, so I’m stopping there on the way back to the city.” Marsha
bubbled, “Do you mind?”

“Sure, I’m okay with that. No problem”

“Thanks! I’m going to pack, have my shower,
and make myself look unbelievably charming and sexy. Be down
soon.”

Vicky remained on the porch and contemplated
doing a little work. I think I’ll check out Tori Baxter’s web site,
answer some fan mail and check out her Facebook page while I’m at
it. Apparently, Jack hadn’t revealed Tori Baxter’s secret identity.
“It was so much easier to keep a lid on things when I lived in that
little apartment in New Jersey.”

She envied Marsha with her easy casual way
with men. Her friend possessed a self-confidence that must come
only with experience. I still can’t even figure out if I’m really
in love with Jack. Marsha seems to think I am. My feelings for him
are so much stronger than any I’ve ever had before, but what do I
really have to compare it to?

Jimmy’s mail delivery Jeep pulled to a stop
in front of her box on the road. He waved through the open window
and Vicky waved back and smiled. She heard the metallic crump as he
closed the box and then he rolled off down the road.

“Come on Romeo. Let’s go get the mail.”

She scratched the cat’s ears and he got to
his feet, leaving his patch of sun on the porch floor. He trotted
along with her in a zigzag pattern down the lawn, first in front,
then behind. Why do kitties always do that?

Opening the mailbox, she pulled out the
catalogues and flyers, then the envelopes. Behind them was a
cardboard box about six inches square, addressed to Jack. I wonder
what that is.

Suddenly she felt a prickling of apprehension
between her shoulder blades. She spun around but there was nothing
there. Shrugging the feeling away, she began shuffling through the
envelopes while Romeo paced back and forth around her legs. Then
she heard a noisy vehicle slowing as it approached her.

The little pin pricks of fear came again as
she slowly turned to see Van Winkle’s dirty truck coming toward
her. He stopped, got out, and came around the front of his truck to
stare at her. Neither of them spoke as Vicky’s fear mounted. What
am I afraid of? Marsha’s upstairs in the shower, but I’ve no idea
where Jack might be. She remembered hearing his tractor way off in
the fields behind the barn earlier in the day, but now there was
only silence. She was entirely alone, and feeling vulnerable.

Van Winkle’s gaze wandered to the charred
remains of the vegetable stand. “Looks like you had a fire. A pity,
after Conner fixed it up all nice, new paint and all. Wonder how
that happened. Course, it’s been mighty dry lately. Fires can start
any old way when things is so dry.” He looked around at the house
and other buildings. “Yup, fires can start real easy, dry as it's
been.”

Romeo took a few steps toward him looking up
curiously.

“As dry as it is, could even have a fire in
the orchards. I’ve known such to happen, lightning strike, or
somebody careless with matches. Any old thing can get a fire
started.”

The kitten, pacing back and forth, caught his
attention. “That your cat?” he said, pointing at Romeo.

“Yes, what of it? What do you want here
anyway?” Vicky closed the mailbox, and took a step backwards,
clutching the mail to her chest.

Van Winkle didn’t answer, but instead,
reached out one boot and hooked it under Romeo’s belly. He kicked
upwards tossing the cat, screeching in terror, into the air. As
cats always do, he landed on his feet, hit the ground running, and
headed back for the porch.

A ripple of fury washed over her. As
frightened as she was, she still managed to summon her courage. She
found her voice, “You’re a nasty piece of shit Van Winkle! How dare
you kick that poor little cat? He didn’t do anything to you.” This
sounded feeble in her own ears, so without thinking she stepped
forward and kicked the man in his shin.

Van Winkle unfazed by her gesture stared at
her for a long moment, a malicious grin spreading over his face.
She shivered involuntarily with fear, wishing she wasn’t alone. Oh
my god. Where the hell is Jack? I should have kicked that bastard
harder.

Jonathan paused, climbing back up into his
truck and spoke once more. “The offer still stands. When I own this
place, you can stay if you want to live in that house there, but
you’ll do whatever I tell you." The door slammed shut, engine
started and he rattled off down the road.

Trembling with fear and anger she stood still
for a moment. Finally, she turned back to the house, firmly
clutching the mail, tears of rage stinging her eyes.

After depositing another bushel of green
beans in the barn, Jack mounted the stairs to his apartment. He
shucked off his shirt, enjoying the cool air shooting into the room
from his window AC unit. Glancing at his computer, he stopped,
remembering the security cameras. Out of curiosity, he leaned over,
maneuvered the mouse to open the security program, and saw the back
yard come into view. Cycling through the channels, he saw the sides
and then brought up the view of the front of the farmhouse.

He stared at the screen when he saw Jonathan
Van Winkle’s truck parked on the road. Jack had brought up the view
of the front just in time to see the man kick Romeo into the air.
Then Vicky kicked Jonathan. “That no good bastard!” he growled.
Launching himself from the computer, he was out the door and racing
down the stairs.

He took off running. Rounding the corner of
the house, he saw Victoria in the middle of the yard. He ran to her
and encircled her in his arms. Holding her close he stroked her
hair comforting her as her tears came. Angrily he looked at the
bend in the road where Van Winkle’s truck had just disappeared.

“One minute sooner and I could have been here
in time. Are you all right Victoria?”

She sniffed. “I think so.”

He led her, one arm around her shoulders up
onto the porch. Romeo was cautiously peeking wide-eyed, out from
under a chair.

“Is Romeo all right?” she asked.

“He seems fine, don’t you boy,” Jack said,
stroking the smooth fur. “I got down here as soon as I could
Victoria. Just wish it’d been one minute sooner.”

She looked up at him. “How did you know
Jonathan was here?”

“I saw his truck. Now sit and relax. Give me
the mail. I’ll put it down inside. Can I get you something?”

“No, I’m okay.” She looked at him and then
sprang into his arms once more. “I don’t need anything, just you. I
just need you. When that awful man was being so vicious and he
kicked poor Romeo all I could think was that I needed you
there.”

Vicky held him to her, realizing for the
first time that she was pressing her face into his bare chest. She
didn’t pull away, but held onto him for a long time as he stroked
her hair. Neither of them spoke but when she finally lifted her
head, he bent and softly kissed her.

Vicky went inside when there was a lull
between customers on the porch. Marsha took a paper bag from the
stack and began filling it with vegetables from Jack’s bushel
baskets.

“I’m going to take some cucumbers and lettuce
back home with me, Jack. I don’t really cook much, but I can make a
salad.”

“Help yourself to anything Marsha.”

She brought her bag to Jack and set it down,
looking at him directly. Turning she glanced over her shoulder at
the screen door. They were still alone. Marsha smiled at him.

“You know don’t you?” she asked softly.

He nodded, grinning. “Yes I know she’s Tori
Baxter. I’ll bet you’re her agent, or her editor or something. Am I
right?”

Marsha nodded. “I’m her agent. Will you keep
it to yourself? Vicky would really appreciate that.”

“Marsha, I’ll do anything Victoria wants. I
feel we’ve got a special relationship, you know what I mean?”

“Bullshit Jack! You’re madly in love with
her. Admit it.”

“Okay okay, I admit it. I love her like
crazy. Does it show that much?”

“All you men are so slow when it comes to
love. Sometimes I don’t know why we put up with it. Then I remember
exactly why.” She laughed. “Vicky needs you more than ever Jack.
After that business with the Van Winkle guy this morning, she is
totally freaked out. The way he kept talking about how easy fires
get started, it has her scared half to death. Why don’t you come
over here nights, instead of sleeping in your place over the
garage? She’ll feel safer.”

“I already thought of that. Don’t want her to
think I’m just trying to climb into bed with her though. I’ll stay
in one of the front rooms.” He almost told her about the security
cameras, then thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut.

Marsha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.
Wouldn’t want her to think you were trying to climb into her bed.
That’s funny Jack. We all know you’d love to do just that.” She
looked once more over her shoulder at the front door.

“Here’s a news flash Jack. Vicky’s wondering
why you aren’t making any move at all. She has some crazy idea you
don’t really like her much. Maybe you could talk her out of that.
So, how much do I owe you for the vegetables.”

“Not a cent,” he said. “Consider them payment
for the good advice.”

A car pulled into the driveway and another
customer came up onto the porch. Vicky returned and sat down by
Marsha.

“I better get going, Vick. I’m stopping at
Joe’s place, but then I’ve got to get home.”

“You’re going to see Joe’s house?” Jack asked
surprised. Diane told me he’s never invited a girl there
before.”

“I’m only going to see all the
restorations.”

“Right, going to see the restorations,” said
Vicky with a sly grin.

Jonathan Van Winkle retrieved his mail from
the box on the road and was pleased to see an envelope from his
lawyer in Albany. Here we go. This has to be it. Now I got that
son-of-a-bitch, Conner, by the shorthairs. Can’t wait to see the
look on his face when I kick him off the farm.