You Can't Run From Love (3 page)

***

The meal was a delicious affair and the chat among the group had been easy. Jess brought in the coffee and sat back quietly in her chair.

While the others continued their discussion, Rachel took the chance to appraise the first woman in years to have piqued her interest. She had not said a great deal throughout the meal but had responded brightly when required. Rachel couldn’t detect a moody personality, only one that appeared relaxed, thoughtful and content with herself. Jess was certainly more attractive than any of the pictures Jack had shown her. Her red hair was a mass of curls, which contrasted beautifully with the blue eyes that cheekily sparkled whenever a grin or smile adorned her face. Her height, four to five inches taller than Rachel’s five feet four, was emphasized by a lean muscular build.

“Rachel, the exhibition you have on this summer in Glasgow, who are the other artists showing with you?” Don asked.

She quickly focused her attention. “Oh Don, there are a number of them. I hate to admit it, but I only actually know a couple of them.”

The conversation then naturally continued on the art theme, as it had so many times when Don and Jean were present. The two of them had taken up painting on Jean’s retirement and had become so-called experts on the subject. Jess smiled to herself. Here was a real artist and they were trying to compete with her knowledge.
I wonder if this happens every year.
She looked over at Rachel, who was joking and laughing. Jess had found it difficult not to look at her for most of the evening and was trying to fathom out why. She chuckled. It could have something to do with her being gorgeous. There was a sudden lull in the conversation and everyone looked her way, including Rachel, with a grin on her face. She quickly sat up.
Oh God, did she say something to me?

Don laughed. “I wouldn’t ask Jess, she has no idea.”

Jess frowned, looking back at everyone. “Don’t ask me what?”

“Are there any particular artists that you like?” Rachel said.

Jess shuffled in her chair. “Um, not really, it depends more on the painting and if I like the look of it.”

“Jess wouldn’t know a good artist from a bad one,” Don goaded.

Jack interjected. “That isn’t true. Jess has some wonderful pictures hanging about this house and you know it.”

“Well she won’t pay more than fifty pounds for a painting and you don’t get good artists for that price.”        

Jess knew things would become heated. They always did when they discussed this topic. Uncle Jack appeared to get some gleeful pleasure out of winding him up.
Well I can’t blame him. A rugged Scotsman and art really don’t marry.
But on this occasion she felt the need to defuse it.

“Don’s right, I’m a heathen when it comes to art.” She smiled at him. “We have this argument quite frequently. I don’t like to pay a fortune for a picture, despite knowing the effort and materials involved.”

Marie added. “Fifty pounds? You consider that a fortune? You’re getting cheap, Jess. Or turning into a true Scot—watching your pennies.”

There were a few chuckles and Rachel thought that what could have been a difficult moment had passed without real incident. These people were used to each other. But she was surprised at her irritation with Don. It had never occurred to her before that he was such a snob.

Art wasn’t mentioned again, except when everyone was trying to remember the name of Christie Brinkley’s first husband, who happened to be a well-known French artist. Jess had sat quietly again and then casually dropped Jean-François Allaux into the conversation.
Touché,
Rachel thought.

As they settled in the lounge, attention once again was focused on Rachel. “What about the new Michelle Whitely book? You haven’t mentioned that,” Jean said excitedly.

Rachel smiled with effort. “Oh, that’s not going to be until the end of the year. Actually, dates will be set in the next couple of weeks.”

“You must be thrilled, though? What a comeback. Did you ever think there would be another one after so long?”

Rachel looked at the expectant faces. She had been the illustrator in the Kate Heavenly books, a series of popular children’s adventures. The last one had been almost seven years ago and Michelle Whitely, the author, had resurrected the character in the hope of boosting her dwindling popularity. Persuaded by her agent, Rachel had accepted the invitation to be illustrator again. A move her agent thought would be good for her career. She was not convinced. “No, I thought she’d finished with the character altogether, years ago.”

Jean rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait; I took the old ones to Australia for the grandchildren and they loved them.”

Don rolled his eyes. “You mean
you
loved them, you always did.”

They all chuckled as Jess watched Rachel.
She isn’t enjoying this.

***

The end of the evening arrived and when Don and Jean moved to leave, so did Rachel. They offered her a lift up the hill, but she refused as it was silly when she could walk. Jack then suggested Jess escort her.

“It’s going to freeze again tonight,” Jess said as she walked beside Rachel holding the torch out in front.

Rachel grinned. She was feeling a little lightheaded from the wine and long drive. “Why are the British so obsessed with discussing the weather whenever there’s a lull in the conversation?”

Jess laughed. “I have absolutely no idea. But to change the subject, I can’t believe I didn’t work out who you were on the road this afternoon. I assumed you would have had an American accent, so I never even thought. It’s funny how you conjure up pictures of people from other’s descriptions.”

“Oh don’t, I’m worse. I’ve seen numerous pictures of you and didn’t recognize you at all.”

“That could’ve had something to do with my muddy disguise.”

“That’s not fair, and I don’t think so. It was that woolen hat, hiding your hair.”

Jess raised an eyebrow and looked at Rachel. “Is that my only distinguishing feature?”

Rachel deliberately turned to examine Jess. “You’re right. It’s only one of them.”

Jess instantly blushed.

Rachel smiled and then continued to walk. She wasn’t sure if she’d witnessed another blush. It was too dark to be sure.

“You do know Mark, don’t you? Don and Jean’s eldest son.”

“Yes. Why?”

“Mark was in the tractor. I’m surprised he didn’t recognize you.”

“I don’t usually have a Jeep with tinted glass. That could have something to do with it.”

“Ah yes, a Suzuki,” Jess said idly.

“Are you trying to say I’m predictable now?” Rachel teased.

“No. I’m not. I just happen to know that’s what you like. When you’re here at least. I’m very predictable with my choice of vehicle. It’s a Range Rover every time.”

They walked in silence until Jess had the urge to fill it again. Although, not with the weather this time. “You didn’t seem too happy about illustrating the new Kate Heavenly adventure.”

“Was it that obvious?”

Jess suddenly felt a little awkward. “Well, I…I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You didn’t pry, you made an observation. I’ll have to be more careful.” Realizing what she had said she added, “This is coming out all wrong. Would you mind if we dropped it?”

Curious as to why the topic of the book would be off limits, Jess mischievously pressed on against her better judgment. “I must admit I was never a great fan. The illustrations I did enjoy, though.”

“Maybe it had something to do with your age?”

Jess noticed the clipped response. “Very funny. I was reading them under strict orders from Emma, Mark’s daughter. She loved the series and kept reading them well into her teens I might add.”

Rachel relaxed a little, this was safer territory. “So what didn’t you like about them?”

“Oh. Kate.”

“The hero?”

Jess nodded. “Too self-obsessed. She was always right, and far too nicey-nicey for my liking. I’m sure she would’ve got away with murder, if she was so inclined.”

Rachel laughed. “She was a child and an orphan. So it’s inevitable she’s going to be perfect.”

Jess grunted. “She used people and was manipulative. It was subtle, but she did.”

Rachel’s heart suddenly began racing in panic. She was describing Michelle Whitely. “Please, let’s just drop this.”

Puzzled, Jess scolded herself for taking her curiosity too far.
Why?
They were only discussing a character. Weren’t they?

Chapter Three

It was the first day of May and snow could be seen only on the very high mountains. Rachel was pleased. Spring had definitely arrived.

She was heading back to the lodge, having spent an hour or so with Jack, who had grown tired on this particular visit. Since her arrival she had taken afternoon tea on a number of occasions with him. This year she was determined to make them more frequent while he recovered.

She couldn’t help feeling sadness for a man she had grown so fond of. He struggled heroically with his deteriorating health and his present frustration at not being able to help his niece.

The winter had been a never-ending fight for the three of them at Woodland Lodges. Don and Jean always spent the winter months visiting their two younger children and grandchildren in Australia and were presently making final arrangements for their emigration later in the year. Jack had been so pleased when they had returned, only for Don to slip a disc in his back the day after their dinner together. He did say he felt Don had been slowing down this last couple of years, but not being available at all would make it difficult, especially for Jess.

I’d be a little slow at seventy-two, Rachel thought. She did understand Jack’s concern though. He and Jess usually managed to do all the major repairs and maintenance over the quieter winter months, so that the place would tick over more easily in the summer when visitors were plentiful and Jess went off to pursue other interests. He and Don always managed fine, but with Jack’s illness and the lodges as busy as they had been this winter, the usual upkeep had not been done. Now Jess was having to prioritize jobs on a daily basis and was never really catching up. Still, she never appeared to be discontent.

As Rachel was passing the end of the drive to Earn Lodge she heard an almighty crash. She knew the family that had been staying there had left this morning and no one else was due until tomorrow. She hurried up the drive to find Jess in a tractor, with a gate suspended in the air.

Jess popped her head outside the cabin and yelled. “Don’t come any closer just for a minute, please.”

Rachel waved her compliance and once the offending gate was moved to the side, Jess jumped down from the tractor, a grin adorning her face.

“Hi, how you doing?”

Rachel couldn’t help it and grinned back. “Fine, I came to see what the noise was.”

Jess turned and indicated the gate posts. “I’m trying to change the gate. I stupidly completed it in the barn, thinking Don would be here to help me hang it. If I’d known he’d be lying on his back, I’d have done it on-site.”

Rachel frowned. “Aren’t they always made up beforehand anyway?”

“Only if you buy them that way.” She then thought of the advantages. “Mind you if I’d done that, then two lovely, great hulking brutes would’ve come with it and hanged it for me.”

Rachel laughed. “You’re maybe too handy for your own good then. Could I help at all?”

She received a smirk. “I don’t think so.”

Rachel was affronted. “How do you know? I might be just as capable as you.” Realizing the ridiculousness of the statement she relaxed and added, “Well, maybe not.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable. Marie would skin me alive if I had a visitor helping me out.”

Rachel grunted. “I’m not any old visitor.”

“You are in the eyes of Health and Safety.”

“I won’t sue, if you think I can help.”

There was a pause. “Okay.” Jess had an idea. If Rachel could slowly lower the winch on the tractor, they could probably place the gate onto its hinges.

She gave Rachel instructions and maneuvered the tractor near to the post, with the gate hanging close to where she wanted it. With Rachel using the winch and Jess tugging and pushing at the gate, they managed to get it just above the hinges. Suddenly Rachel screamed and the gate swung, knocking Jess off balance and almost trapping her leg as it hit the post.

Jess yelled, “Pull back on the lever, pull it back!”

When the gate stopped swinging she gave it a sweeping inspection and then rushed to the cab.
What
are you doing checking the gate first, nothing like making a woman feel she’s more important than a lump of wood.

She jumped onto the sideboard to find Rachel shaking and with a vise-like grip on the lever. She reached into the cab and gently touched her arm. “It’s okay, just engage the brake.”

Rachel did as she was told and turned to Jess. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

Jess smiled at the ghostly white face. “I’m fine, how about you?”

“Have I damaged anything?”

Jess winced and shook her head. “No. How about we try again when the color returns to your face and those hands stop shaking?”

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

Jess chuckled and moved her hand from Rachel’s arm to her hand and squeezed. “No. You did a fine job. It was only that last movement.”

Rachel looked at her. Why on earth would she give her a second chance? She’d almost ruined her hard work and crushed her in the process. Jess suddenly jumped down from the tractor and winked. “We can do it.”

***

Half an hour later, Jess handed Rachel a mug of tea and sat down beside her. She nodded toward the gate. “Looks good don’t you think?”

“Does it open and close okay?”

“Perfectly, we did a grand job. Thanks.” She tapped her mug against Rachel’s before taking a sip.

They sat quietly looking at their handiwork, which in the end didn’t take them long at all to complete. Rachel looked over at Jess. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”