Deep in the Valley

  Her distraction was so acute, she actually forgot she didn’t have a vehicle to drive to work in. When she popped out onto the porch in the morning, Sadie by her side, she stopped short at the sight of Tom leaning against his Rover. “Hiya,” he said.

  “Jeez, I must be losing it,” she answered.

  “You weren’t expecting me? Who were you expecting?”

  “You’re not going to believe this, but I forgot I don’t have a Jeep to go to work in this morning. I—”

  “I believe it.” He straightened up. “His name is Jim Post, and you’re right about what he’s doing.”

  “You know?”

  He opened the passenger door for her. “I know. But be advised, very few people know who he is or what he’s doing. And I don’t know where he’s working, okay? We probably shouldn’t talk about this again after today.”

  “God, I can’t believe it,” she said. “Right here in Mayberry.”

  “Not exactly,” Tom said. “Mayberry is Mayberry—pretty quiet most days. With Gus Craven in jail, my only worry is whether I’ll have to break up a fight between the Barstow twins. But right up the road is Gomorrah.”

  “Our neighbors,” she said grimly.

  “They don’t bother us much, we don’t bother them much. Well, County Sheriff tries to bother them, DEA tries, Forestry tries…but me? I live in peace with my enemies.”

  Yes, she thought. This is true. That stuff going on back there, the drug farming, they tried to stay aloof from that. Because they couldn’t stop it or cure it or make it go away. If the Justice Department couldn’t get the best of it, then how could one Cherokee cop?

  “But he’s okay. I told you,” she said.

  “If I were you, I’d think twice.”

  “Because?”

  “Because of what he does for a living. Not only does he mingle with pretty unsavory characters, that kind of work tends to rub off on people. Makes them pretty cynical. Dark.”

  “No, he’s not. He talks about his grandmother. He likes to hear the stories about the town.”

  “What if someone from back there follows him?”

  “What if?” She shrugged.

  “That could put you in danger.”

  “If he were sneaking out to your house, there could be danger for you. I’m not a cop. I’m no threat. I’m not even a girlfriend yet, though the thought beckons. Besides, we met innocently. I think we could get away with it even if his cronies knew.” She smiled and she lifted her chin in a challenge.

  “Don’t even think that!” Tom snapped at her. “God, don’t even think that! Those men back there, they aren’t fraternity brothers. They aren’t gentlemen. They have no respect for proprietary relationships. There’s no honor among thieves. There are those, back in the camps, who, if they knew he had a woman, might follow him to your house, wait for him to leave and—”

  “Okay! I knew that!” She and Sadie got into the Range Rover, and he drove toward town in silence. “He’s good at what he does or they wouldn’t let him be doing it. He wouldn’t put me in harm’s way. He wouldn’t.”

  “I assume the same,” Tom said more quietly. “Or I’d ask his boss to pull him in to keep you out of danger. But please, don’t get romantic and stupid. He’s in a serious job…and it’s nothing to play around with.”

  “Did you warn Ursula that she shouldn’t get involved with a lawman?” June asked.

  “It’s not the same thing, and you know it. And speaking of her, you can’t confide in Ursula. In anyone. When Elmer eventually finds out, it’s going to upset him.”

  “Now stop that! You act as though I’m going to marry this guy, and so far I’ve only let him in my house a couple of times. Are you spying on me?”

  “June, you gave yourself away. You kept asking about the men who came to your clinic. You had that twitterpated look in your eyes.”

  “Twitterpated?” she asked, bursting into laughter.

  “I have seen that look in Tanya’s eyes. Boys don’t get it.”

  “Oh. Boys don’t get it. Oh brother. So, you saw this look, and I asked too many times, and you did what?”

  “I asked the right question of the right person because I had personal concerns. What happens with their operation is out of my hands—except that I’ll be ready for any fallout. What happens with my friend is a matter of importance to me.”

  “Tom. How sweet,” she said. “Well, thank you, I guess… But I already knew he was all right. And even though he might be doing something very risky, he makes me feel safe. He makes me feel—”

  “June, please. Don’t tell me too much. I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

  She leaned forward in her seat, staring at his stoic profile. “It’s hard to tell when a Cherokee is blushing.”

  “Blushing is not a Native thing. We don’t blush, we glower.” He turned his fierce expression on her, then looked back at the road. “You understand, for his safety, as well as your own, no one can know about him.”

  “I know how Mrs. Muir must have felt,” she said.

  “You can always decide this is a bad idea,” Tom offered.

  “No I can’t,” she said, because she couldn’t.

  “The thing is,” he said, “not being able to talk to anyone, not being able to share…it could be lonely for you.”

  “Lonely?” she asked with a laugh. “Oh Tom!” She looked at him; his puzzled frown was directed to the road. Lonely? What did he think she had been? Because she had six hundred friends who loved her enough to sneak get-well gifts onto her porch, he thought she was never lonely? Because she had Elmer for Tuesday night meat loaf, the Graceful Quilters on Thursday nights, medical emergencies, town fairs, dinner parties at Aunt Myrna’s…. Did he think she was never lonely? My God, it had been years since she’d been kissed, much less held and stroked and told she was beautiful. Maybe a secret man was the best kind for her, the way people were always in her business.

  “We speak as though this is fait accompli,” she said. “But Jim and I haven’t done anything that could possibly bond us as a couple.” No need to tell Tom about the best kiss since junior high. “Who knows if he’ll even show up again?” she said, though upon parting the night before, he had promised.

  “Maybe this won’t last long, in that case. Let me gas up here at Sam’s, then I’ll run you by the café for your coffee.”

  “Sure,” she said absently. It was good to back Tom off the trail, get him thinking about something and someone else. June would prefer to manage her own romance without the chief of police’s help.

  Sam came out of the filling station as Tom gassed up the Rover. Funny, June thought. Fish must not be biting yet…or maybe he was already fished out for the day. He and Tom exchanged a few quick jokes while the pump ran, and Sam pulled that wad of cash out of his pocket so he could make change.

  Her eyes were drawn to a flash of color in the window of the station. Flowers? Not just flowers, but an exquisite floral arrangement in spring pinks, yellows, peach, soft orange, lavender….

  “Oh my God!” she gasped. “Justine!”

  She opened the Range Rover’s door and, grabbing her bag and whistling a command to Sadie, took off down the street to the Flower Shoppe.

  Nineteen

  “Justine!” she called.

  Justine came from the back room carrying a beautiful carnation arrangement formed around a small carousel. “June? Hi. How are you? I heard about your accident. I was worried sick. I brought some flowers to your house—the porch was already covered with gifts.”

  “Ah, yes. Yes, thank you.” She stretched her memory for which flowers came from Justine, but she hadn’t gone through each item as she should have. She silently berated herself for not making a proper list for thank-you notes. Birdie would be appalled. “Justine, I’m so sorry. I missed our appointment!”

  “Well June, that seems reasonable. You were in a car accident, after all.”

  “I can see you this morning if you like. We’ll just have Jessi
e make a dent in the schedule and you come in whenever you want.”

  Justine laughed rather brightly. “Now June, don’t go crazy over this, there’s no rush. I’ll make an appointment for sometime next week. I don’t even know how soon a person should have a first checkup. When’s the earliest I need to be seen? Since I already know my condition.”

  First checkup? June thought, frowning. This was a new twist. Far different than the panic of a couple of nights ago, along with the demand for an immediate abortion. Plus Justine looked fabulous, not just better than the other night, when her face had been splotchy from tears and her hair and clothing in disarray from general neglect. This was more than an improvement, this was a whole new Justine. Even her usually ruddy complexion looked rosy. And instead of looking chubby and unpretty, she looked pleasantly roundish and sensual. Maybe it was her posture.

  “Well,” June said, “that all depends on how you’re feeling.”

  “I feel just great,” she said, flashing a bright and healthy smile.

  “And…” June faltered. “You’re not very far along, are you?”

  “No. Just a month or so. But I can already tell. You know?”

  “No morning sickness?”

  “Well, at first I felt just ill all over.” She laughed. “At first I wanted to die!”

  “And you feel better about…things now?” June asked. She’d known some people to blossom with pregnancy, but never like this. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Justine had just spent a couple of months in a health spa. But it had been less than forty-eight hours since she’d seen her. And then Justine had been distraught.

  “I’m feeling better about everything, thanks.”

  June suddenly believed Justine must have worked something out with Jonathan, which she immediately felt would be a mistake. Either that or she’d successfully murdered him.

  “Well, if you’re not in crisis and you’re feeling well, come and see me by six weeks. That should be soon enough.”

  “Okay. I’ll call Jessie.”

  “Justine, I must say, you’re looking wonderful. Pregnancy must agree with you.”

  “Yes, I think it does. I’m hoping it’s a girl.”

  “You’ve changed your mind, then? About the—”

  “Oh God, yes! I was a little crazed when I came into the clinic the other night. Plus I’d just barely left Jonathan. I had only just told him about the baby. Needless to say, he was in a state of shock. And probably didn’t handle himself very well.”

  “Ah. And have you had a chance to work things out with him? A little more rationally?”

  She frowned. “No. I don’t plan to ever speak to that big jerk again.”

  June leaned wearily on the counter, resting her head on the heel of her hand. Sadie nosed around the store, squeaking. “Nonetheless,” June said in confusion, “you certainly appear born-again, if you don’t mind my phraseology.”

  “Born-again! How funny!” She laughed.

  “It’s none of my business, but I’m sure curious about the change, your about-face.”

  “I owe it to Sam. When I left your clinic the other night, I was still so upset, I didn’t want to go home. I was afraid my dad would know something was wrong and somehow find out my problem and—you know—kill me. So I came here. Between crying jags, I got a little flower arranging done.

  “Then after the fire—your Jeep—Sam brought the fire truck back to town to gas her up, saw the light and came over to see if I was all right. Well, I was not all right! I don’t know what it is about Sam. You can just talk to him, you know?”

  “You can?”

  “He’s so understanding. So gentle. So wonderful!”

  “He is?”

  Justine nodded, but her eyes were rolled skyward. “Oh God, yes! First of all, he made me see that this problem was not a problem at all, but a gift. Anyone who doesn’t see it that way has no respect for humanity. For life. For motherhood.

  “Then he told me about how beautiful and sexy and remarkable pregnant women are! How all the curves and padding just makes a woman that much more womanly. Even my complexion has already gotten healthier! Even through all those tears, he could see that.”

  “He could, could he?”

  “There was really a lot to talk about. I was so hurt and confused and upset, and I was desperate for a clear-headed perspective. So yesterday I closed the shop and went fishing with Sam. By the end of the day I was a new woman. I’m having this baby, June. I’m raising her, I’m going to be a good mother, and at least I’m going to be responsible for my actions. In a loving way.” Then her expression changed to a more bitter twist. “Unlike some pious people I know!”

  “Well,” June exclaimed. “If you’re happy, I’m happy!”

  “Oh, I am! In fact, I don’t know when I’ve been happier! I’m thinking about asking Sam to be my childbirth coach!”

  “Really? I wouldn’t have cast Sam in that role, but—”

  “He’d be perfect. I just need to be sure I’m around positive people now. People who are happy for me. People who really care about me.”

  “I certainly can’t argue with that. Good for you. You come and see me in a couple of weeks, unless you have a problem—in which case you should call me at once. Okay?”

  “Okay. Are you feeling all right now?” Justine asked, touching her own head in reference.

  “Huh? Oh yeah.” June touched the spot. “It itches. Sadie, come here!” The dog immediately turned and came to June. June crouched, bringing Sadie’s head next to hers. “Look. Twins.”

  “How cute,” Justine said.

  “See you later, then,” June said.

  “Sure, hon.”

  Hon? This was a very strange transformation. But, June had to admit, it was better than what she’d see before.

  “Um, Justine, I was just wondering…. Have you told your father?”

  “No. Not yet. No hurry on that, I guess. It’s only going to get him riled up, so I’d as soon wait till I have to. You know?”

  “Oh, I do know! Good luck!”

  Still shaking her head in bemusement, June went to the café. Tom was already there, along with some of the old locals, including Elmer.

  “Everything all right?” Tom asked.

  “Uh-huh. I had forgotten, Justine left me a beautiful floral arrangement yesterday. A get-well thing. I wanted to thank her.”

  “It appeared to be an urgent thank-you,” Tom observed.

  But June’s attention was drawn to her father, who glumly stared into his coffee cup and hadn’t even muttered “good morning.”

  “What’s the matter with him?” she asked Tom.

  “Poker’s been called off.”

  “Really? Judge isn’t up to it yet?”

  Elmer turned toward them. “Judge is still out, and Sam isn’t coming. That doesn’t leave enough of a table.”

  “Oh, too bad. You can come out to dinner if you like. Why isn’t Sam playing?”

  “Damned old fool,” Elmer said. “He has a date. Taking Justine to dinner and a movie in Fort Bragg. For God’s sake,” he said in disgust.

  “Oh Dad,” June said, laughing. “Sam’s just trying to cheer her up. She was kind of, I don’t know, down in the dumps.”

  “Shows what you know,” Elmer said.

  “Dad, he’s seventy! Justine is a twenty-six-year-old girl!”

  “He said if things go right, he’ll be missing a lot of poker…and he’ll be buying a ring!”

  Justine was the youngest of five girls; her mother had died when she was sixteen. Justine suffered her loss just a year before June’s own mother died, and though they had nothing else in common, June had always felt a kind of bond with the girl because of that. Except it never seemed Justine felt any such bond with June.

  Justine’s older sisters married early and left Grace Valley with their husbands in what almost appeared to be a frantic exodus out of the valley, away from the grumpy, shortsighted, widowed Standard Roberts. Stan, as he was c
alled by the locals.

  Stan didn’t mix much. He was always a presence at town doings, from fairs to meetings, but he had to be because he owned a large flower farm between the town and coast. He had to protect his interests and sell his wares. Justine got most of her flowers from her father’s farm, and June assumed Stan had helped finance the shop.

  Standard was a known grouch and had been even when his kindly and tolerant wife had been living, but he was not a cruel sort, like Gus Craven. Stan was just morose. He’d always had an impatient and gruff tone with his daughters, but June had never known him to be abusive. She made a mental note to be extra observant. If Stan didn’t take well to this pregnancy, she wanted to be a support for Justine.

  She wondered how Stan would like the idea of having a seventy-year-old son-in-law. Such a situation might require far more support than even June could muster.

  “He didn’t really say that!” she said to her father.

  “He did. Said he always thought Justine special.”

  “Lord above! You think he’ll ask Standard for her hand?” June asked.

  “You think he’ll ask me to pick Standard’s bullets out of his backside?” Elmer retorted.

  “This town just keeps getting more eccentric!”

  “Eccentric? That what you call it?” Elmer asked. “I would have said psychotic!”

  They were both distracted then by the sound of screeching tires as a beige station wagon with one of those Christian fish slapped on the bumper careened through the town. Past the church, the clinic, the café, the police station. It fishtailed to an abrupt stop in front of the Flower Shoppe. Mrs. Clarice Wickham got out. Four bobbing heads remained in the station wagon as Clarice slammed the door and stomped up the steps to the shop.

  “Uh-oh,” June said. “Hell hath no fury…”

  “Now what’s that about?” Elmer muttered.

  But June didn’t answer—she just left her cup on the counter and bolted. She wasn’t even aware of Tom and Elmer following her. “Stay in the car, kids,” June said to the Wickham children as she ran past Clarice’s parked vehicle. By the time she got in the shop door, Clarice was in high gear.