Page 12 of Exposure of Murder

Charlie leaned back in his chair and cocked his head. “Heard there was some trouble over at the Jenkins farm the other day.”

“I went over there to investigate. It was probably just kids,” replied Ethan. “Nothing was taken, just some of the items in the barn were disturbed.”

“Jane seems nice,” Matt said. “She’s a widow, you know.” He looked at Ethan, his brows raised.

Crap. Were his friends going to try to set him up with women now?

“So?” he replied.

“So…” Matt smirked. “So, you’re single. She’s smart and pretty, likes animals, is making herself comfortable in town and not leaving … you figure it out.”

“I’m not interested in dating. Been there. Done that,” said Ethan. “I don’t need you bozos setting me up either.”

Charlie snorted. “Ethan, it isn’t healthy to live in the past or be afraid of the future. Not all women are like Corrine.”

“Really?” Ethan growled. “You want to go there? You’re with a different woman every month.”

“True. But I like women, and when I find the right one, I’ll settle down,” said Charlie.

That caused the men to laugh. Charlie had been single the longest of all of them.

“How did you meet Jane?” asked Ethan. He had to admire the way she was ingratiating herself in town.

“She has sheep. I’m a vet. You figure it out, lawman.” Matt laughed.

“You’re an asshole.” Ethan smirked and gave Matt the finger.

Their beer finally arrived, followed by the burgers. The table was silent while they ate. Finally, Ethan sat back and sighed. “That hit the spot.”

“For sure,” said Adam.

They stayed for a while, talking, listening to the jukebox. No brawls tonight, which was disappointing. Ethan was unsettled and needed to work off some excess energy.

However, he was surprised his friends wanted him to date. Didn’t they understand he wasn’t ever trusting his heart to someone again?

Was he being too cautious? Was he living in the past, afraid of the future? Could he be missing out on a chance for happiness?

Nah.

Eight

Savannah left two days ago and took her sunshine with her, leaving Jane to wander the empty house looking for chores to finish or redecorating ideas for the kitchen. Finding nothing to do, she gathered the bucket of scraps and strolled over to the barn.

The sky was a robin’s-egg blue and the air crisp. White puffs of cotton dotting the distant field grazed serenely, only to lift their heads when they saw Jane, then returned to what they were doing when they realized no extra hay was coming.

She walked over to the chicken house and threw a pan of scraps over the fence. The rooster strutted over and gave her the evil eye before heading back to his girls. “Men!” she muttered.

At least the rooster had his family.

Despite the solitude, Jane couldn’t complain because everything was falling into place—the house, the barn, the bees and animals. Everything except those pieces of her that missed Mike, missed writing, and occasionally missed having someone to snuggle with at night, someone to kiss and make love to.

But the rest was all good.

She walked into the barn, relishing the quiet. Clarence had finished the stalls, and Jane contemplated what next to acquire. Maybe a horse or two. She’d ridden when she was a child but not since.

Visions of a one-horse open sleigh flitted through her mind. Jane saw a picture in a book just a little while ago. She envisioned herself bundled up, the cold air biting her cheeks, and laughing as she was being pulled around the property with … someone. She remembered reading that Justin Morgan, who settled in Vermont, bred the first Morgan horse, and the Morgan horse farm wasn’t far from her place. Maybe they could suggest what to look for in a horse. Then again, she had all the animals she could handle right now. Ah, dreams.

“Jane.” Bucky’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He sauntered into the barn, clutching an enormous cat in his arms. Its eyes were wide with fear or desperation, and its whiskers twitched. “Someone dumped this beast here. What do you want me to do with it?”

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