Page 53 of Exposure of Murder

Family was important to her. She always had a close relationship with her parents and siblings. She and her friends had been tight for years. Ethan had that and more since he lived in Beaver Creek all his life.

The crunch of gravel under tires snapped Jane back to reality.

She pulled into her driveway and noticed Bucky’s beat-up car by the barn and sighed. He needed to know what she had told the sheriff.

First, though, she had to freshen up and change into barn clothes. More seed packages arrived, and she wanted to look them over and plan the vegetable, flower and herb gardens. Spring would come soon enough. But that was a project for later today when she was in her pajamas, on her computer, with a hot cup of cocoa in front of the fire.

After changing, Jane walked down to the barn, pulling her jacket closer. A brisk wind had picked up, blowing her hair every which way, and she wished she had put on a hat. The wind whistled through the trees, rattling branches.

She didn’t see Bucky by the henhouse and circled the barn to see him feeding the sheep.

Jane paused and studied him for a minute. Bucky looked more relaxed than ever. The pall on his face that he had come out of prison with was now tanned. His eyes weren’t as haunted. She wondered if he was settled in town, had friends, or even found a girlfriend.

Bucky must have felt her staring at him. He glanced over at her and smiled. “Hey, come to help?”

“Nah,” She chuckled. “Looks like you have the girls under control.”

He snorted and smiled. “If only all my women were like this.”

“Listen, can we talk for a few minutes before you leave?” she asked. “Come over to the house.”

He narrowed his eyes. His smile faded. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I need to discuss something with you.”

“I’ll see you in a little while.”

Jane walked back to the house, her heart racing. She prayed Bucky would take what she told him with a grain of salt and not feel like he had to leave town. After their lunch, she thought Ethan felt a pang of sympathy for him.

Back inside, she busied herself with picking up the house and making a couple of phone calls, anything not to think about the conversation to come. It was almost 4 p.m. when Jane heard a knock on the door.

The day was fading fast, although there was still a sliver of sunlight.

“Hey, come on in.” She opened the door wider. Bucky took off his boots and coat and left them in the front hall. The scent of fresh air clung to him. “Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, soda, beer?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m good.”

“Well, come into the kitchen and we’ll talk.”

She pulled out a chair at the table and motioned for Bucky to sit. He looked worried.

“First off, there’s nothing to be worried about.” She gave him a small smile. “I just wanted to tell you what happened at lunch today.”

Jane recounted the conversation with Ethan and watched Bucky’s face go from upset to worry.

“Bucky,” she said, reaching over to touch his hand, “nothing is going to happen. The sheriff just needed to make sure you weren’t here for the wrong reasons.”

“Maybe so,” Bucky replied. “But I had hoped to keep my past to myself.”

“I know and understand. However, if I didn’t mention your reason for being here, he would not have stopped until he found out why.”

Bucky sighed, his shoulders slumping. Jane prayed she made the right decision in telling Ethan.

He leaned back in the chair. “I get it, Jane, I really do. It’s just … I’m trying to move on, and it feels like I’m constantly being pulled back.”

“I hear you,” she said. “But you’re building a good life here. Don’t let one conversation get you down.”

They sat in silence for a minute, the ticking of the grandfather clock the only sound. Finally, Bucky stood. “Well, I better get going.”

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