She glanced downward. “I understand, but please don’t lose that thought.”
“When I’m with you, it’s all I do think about.”
Jecca started to reply, but she heard Nell entering the room and hurried to her. “I need to call Kim to say good-bye, and would you mind helping me pack my art supplies?”
“Oh yes!” Nell said as they left Lucy’s sewing room.
Thirty minutes later, Jecca and Nell were standing with Tris at the back of his old Land Rover, and he was trying to jam everything into it. “How much stuff did you buy this morning?” he asked Nell.
Jecca stepped forward. “I don’t think a woman has to answer that. It’s really much too personal.”
“I think I’m out
numbered on this trip,” Tris said as he finally got the door closed.
& wiwid#8220;Your cousin Roan will even things out.”
“Unless he’s in his professor mode, then he’ll want to argue,” Tris said.
“Leave me out of that!” Jecca said as she held out her hand to Tristan.
“What’s that for?”
“The car keys. I’m driving.”
“Where we’re going is pretty steep and—”
“Puhlease,” she said, her hand still extended. “I’ve run road rallies with my brother.” When Tris hesitated, she said, “Your arm is hurting you and don’t tell me it isn’t. You’ve been trying to pretend that it’s just fine, but even I know that muscles deteriorate when they’re inside a cast.”
Tris didn’t smile. “Are you saying that I’m weak and—”
“Give her the keys,” Nell said.
He looked from one female to the other, both of them very serious.
“Looks like I’m beaten again,” he said as he handed Jecca the car keys, but he sounded pleased. He helped Nell over objects and into the backseat and got her settled among her stuffed animals and dolls, then he got into the passenger seat. Jecca was already behind the steering wheel.
“Need I ask if you can drive a stick shift?”
Jecca just looked at him.
“Sorry I spoke.”
They’d said good-bye to Lucy and Mrs. Wingate inside and had been given explicit instructions about all the food.
“How’s Kim?” Tris asked.
“Great. She’s swamped with work and wishes me all the best.” Jecca glanced at the car. “So I guess we’re ready,” she said, but then her cell phone buzzed.
“You’d better get that now,” Tris said. “There’s no reception at the cabin.”
Jecca got the phone out of her bag. “It’s an e-mail from Dad.” She touched the screen, then groaned and turned the photo to show Tristan.
It was of a very angry young woman, and from the look of the picture, she was inches from the face of the photographer. She was the epitome of “in your face anger.”
Jecca started the car and turned around in the drive. The Land Rover didn’t have power steering; it was old; it was heavy. She felt at home.
“I take it this is your sister-in-law? The one who wants to take over your dad’s store?” Tris was pretending he wasn’t watching her drive, not scrutinizing her every movement. But she was at ease with the big, old vehicle. Smiling, he relaxed back against the seat.