Juliet's Law (5 page)

Or not.

Trading a feather duster for a spray bottle filled with vinegar and water and a bag full of clean rags, Josh sprayed the first of the big windows in the room. It had once been a mother-in-law house behind a bungalow. Josh had knocked out most of the internal walls to open it up, and hung mirrors along the far wall. These old windows had ancient glass, with ripples and imperfections he genuinely loved, and he liked the action of making them shiny.

The next thing on his mind was his daughter's absolute refusal to speak of her time with her mother at all. Not with a counselor, not with her grandmother, not with him. But sometimes in nursery school, she drew chaotic pictures that frightened her teacher, and sometimes, she still awakened screaming.

It killed him. If it was not against his practice, he would hate his ex-wife. He didn't know, had no way to know, what had transpired in the long months Glory had been missing. She was found in Denver, finally, when the house they were living in caught fire, and they were transported, along with the other eight people living in the house, to the hospital. A nurse recognized Glory from a flyer in the newspaper, and called the police, who took the little girl into custody. Glory had been too thin, easily startled, but there had been no evidence of any sort of abuse. She'd been almost heartbreakingly happy to see her father and rarely spoke of her mother ever after.

Sunlight, captured by a bubble in the old glass, blazed in the window he washed. Josh rubbed a circle around it, thinking. The way Juliet looked after breakfast made him think of Glory's blankness when her mother was mentioned.

Which brought him to the last thing on his mental agenda—his discovery that Juliet was wounded. Obviously. Painfully.

Which, in a word, sucked. He'd done his time with broken birds. He drew them in flocks for reasons he could never quite figure out, and inevitably, he tried to mend their cracked wings and broken hearts. Inevitably, he failed, the most dramatically with his ex-wife.

These days, there was only room in his life for one wounded bird, and that was his own daughter.

The trouble was, Glory had made up her mind that Juliet was the finest thing to fall to earth in eons. Josh couldn't bear to deny her the pleasure of Juliet's company. Perhaps it would be a healing thing for both of them. Maybe the wounded birds would heal each other.

In the meantime, he'd just have to keep himself a bit aloof, apart. Much as he'd like to, he couldn't afford to explore the depths of the lovely Juliet.

J
osh's resolve to stay aloof was immediately tested when Juliet showed up at the dojo an hour later. She'd obviously been shopping with Desi, because the pair of them came in wearing matching blouses, Desi in pink, Juliet in blue. He half grinned when they came in, laughing like girls. “Sorry, did we have a flashback to the hippie days?”

Desi laughed. Their blouses were airy Indian cotton embroidered with sequins and beads. “Everything in the stores is like this! It's like sixth grade all over again!” She spun around to model it, her long, long dark hair spilling down back, her curvy figure giving new meaning to the word
body.
“What do you think?”

“I think you ought to put on girl clothes more often.”
He knew Desi rarely—if ever—indulged on clothes that could only be worn for fashion's sake, opting instead for more practical garb.

“That's what I told her,” Juliet said.

Until she spoke, he'd managed to keep her blurred at the edges of his vision, a smear of blue and yellow in the corner of his eye. When she spoke, he had to look.

And then he couldn't look away. Everything about her looked floaty. Otherworldly, like a scarf that might blow away in a good wind. Her fine blond hair hung loose around her neck; the thin fabric of the blouse skimmed her slim shoulders and arms in a way that made him think of cobwebs.

She was…ethereal. Well, ethereal except the vivid turquoise of her eyes. And the lush, red bow of her mouth and the supple thrust of her breasts beneath the all-too-thin fabric. How could someone be so wispy and so lush at once?

“You look nice, too,” he said. Did they notice the gruffness of his voice? He resisted clearing his throat.
Don't be an idiot, man. Ain't you ever seen a girl before?

“Thanks.” She held up the shopping bag she was carrying. “I hope you don't mind, but I brought Glory a present.”

“You did?” He tried to hide his dismay, but evidently was not particularly successful. Juliet's cheeks turned red and Desi jumped in.

“It's my fault,” she said. “We bought matching shirts for us, and for our sister in New York, and we decided to see if there was one in Glory's size.”

“But it's okay, we can take it back, no problem,” Juliet said. “It was presumptuous, I'm sorry.”

“Naw, it's all right.” He leaned on his broom, let a smile surface. “I'm just worried that she's gonna get her little heart broken, you know?”

Juliet put her hands to her chest. “Oh, I'd never break her heart! I promise.”

She would never
mean to,
he could see that. He folded the rag in his hands, then refolded it, testing the sensation in his chest. Warning. But for was it for Glory, or for him? “She'll be tickled pink that you brought her a present, Princess.”

“I've got to get some work done,” Desi said, “check on a bull that was injured and touch bases with the clinic. You can stay here and visit with Glory, if you want. Give me a call on the cell—” She halted, frowned thunderously. “How am I going to function without a cell phone?”

Juliet raised her eyebrows.

“I'll have to go get a replacement.” She growled. “That infuriates me!”

“Let it go,” Juliet said.

Desi's hands flew in the air. “I know, I know.” She pursed her lips. “Okay, when I get my new cell, I'll call you on yours, and then I can run by and pick you up later.”

“Can I walk over to the clinic?” In addition to the wolf center, Desi had a traditional large animal practice in town. “I'd like to see it.”

“Sure, it's at the east end of town, on the main road.”
She gave walking directions. “Still, let me know you're coming, okay? So you're not stuck waiting for me forever and I don't even know. I'll finish up and then we'll head back to the house.”

“Trust me,” Josh said, “you want to call her.”

“Okay. I've got the number programmed into my cell.” Juliet pulled it out of her purse to show them. “You guys are acting like I'm twelve. I live in Hollywood, remember?”

Desi laughed, and Josh thought it was the easiest-sounding sound that had come from her in months. It was good for her to have Juliet around. “Did you get everything taken care of this morning?” he asked.

“Yes. Restraining order filed. Divorce papers picked up and will be filed by the end of the week, so we can get that rolling.” She held up three fingers. “Scout's honor.”

“Good work.”

“Thanks.” Desi put on her coat and headed for the door, rattling her keys as she waved. “See you kids later.”

When she left, the bell over the door ringing faintly, Juliet looked at Josh and said, “I'm sorry about the little scene at the restaurant. That hasn't happened for awhile.”

“You don't have to apologize,” he said again. “It's okay.”

She started to speak, then stopped, putting her hands in her back pockets. A pose that neatly illuminated the curve of her waist. For a long moment, she searched his face with narrowed eyes, and he had a chance to simply meet that blue gaze. He took in the tiny scar through her left eyebrow, and what looked
like a chicken pox scar on her chin, barely visible and strangely appealing.

At last she nodded. “That's a relief. Thanks.”

“No problem. Let's go find Glory, Princess Juliet.”

 

Juliet stepped out into the day and blinked, wishing for her sunglasses. With one hand, she shielded her eyes and lifted her head to the brilliant blue sky. “Wow.”

Josh raised his gaze, chuckled. “That about says it, all right.”

Down the mountains spilled gleaming waterfalls of yellow aspens, vivid against the darker pines. It looked as if a pot of paint had tipped over. “I keep trying to name that color in my head—yellow doesn't really capture it, and lemon is too bright and it's not quite like butter.”

“Marigold?”

“Closer,” she agreed. “Saffron, maybe?”

“I'm not sure I know what saffron is.”

“A spice. It's a little muddy, though. Marigold or sunflower are much closer.” She dropped her hand, gave him a quick smile. “Sorry. I keep stopping to rhapsodize.”

“Don't apologize. It's too easy to forget how amazing it is when you live here. We need the reminder to look around once in awhile.” He gestured. “I never drive in town, so we'll just walk over to my mother's. It's not very far.”

“I'm glad to walk. It's an amazing day.” She felt buoyed, effervescent, and wasn't sure if it was the weather or the altitude or maybe the company of the very handsome man beside her. “The weather changed so fast!”

“And it'll change again this afternoon,” he said,
pointing toward the south. “Those clouds might bring some more snow with them.”

A pair of dogs, one black, one salt-and-pepper, loped by on some happy errand, bandanas tied around their throats. One stopped to bark at a third dog leaning his head out of the window of a pickup truck, a dog with an enormous head, who simply looked down at the Lab and yawned.

“I've never seen so many dogs in a town in my life,” Juliet commented.

“They issue you one when you come to town.”

Juliet laughed.

His eyes glittered. “Haven't you gotten yours yet?”

“Please, Desi has three
big
dogs. That's plenty.”

“All right, we'll let you slide for a bit.”

They walked in agreeable silence up a short hill. “So, what sort of martial arts do you teach?” she asked.

“Kung fu, mostly.”

“I like the eastern arts,” she said, and hoped it didn't sound too prim. “I studied yoga and tai chi for awhile.”

“Yoga makes me feel impatient,” he said, and gave her a rueful smile. “I think I need to move more than that.”

They stopped at Black Diamond Boulevard and waited for the traffic to thin. “It's really busy for a small town,” Juliet said.

“Wait until winter comes. You'll have to fight to cross this street, even with stop signs at every corner.”

Juliet started to say,
I won't be staying that long,
but how did she know? She wouldn't leave Desi until everything was stable. “I'll keep that in mind.”

The light changed and they crossed the street, and
into a small pocket of cottages and bungalows tucked between the main drag and the northern mountain. “Why aren't there ski slopes on both sides of the valley?” Juliet asked.

He flipped a thumb over his shoulder to the south. “That one faces north, so the snow gets deeper and stays longer and doesn't get as icy.” He pointed to the one in front of them. “The sun melts the snowfall on this one much faster.”

She grinned. “Cool. I love it when I learn something new like that.”

“So, you got things taken care of this morning with Desi?”

“I think so. You're very worried about it, aren't you?”

He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Well, I'll tell you. I've been a cop a long time, and that relationship has all the danger signs.”

Juliet felt a prickling of dread, a sense of warning. “What do you mean?”

“They're very intense people, both of them. And at one time, I gather it was very passionate.”

“Yeah, that's the weird part. I would have said they loved each other a lot.”

“It struck me as something a little different.” He turned his lips down in thought, and Juliet found herself admiring the angle of his cheekbone, the grace of his throat. She looked toward the cerulean sky instead.

“Possessive,” he continued. “They
possessed
each other. Claude bagged an upper-class white woman with a social conscience, a pretty woman with a lot of heart who'd make him look good wherever he went.”

“And Desi?”

He hesitated, then quirked an eyebrow. “She got herself somebody good-looking enough for her tastes, and exotic enough to give her cachet, and made sure he was an artist to piss off your parents.”

Juliet laughed. “Very acute observation, Mr. Mad Calf.”

“It's a kind of love, meeting needs like that. Relationships are complicated things.”

“My parents taught us that very young.”

“They sound like pretty complicated people.”

“Mmm. Complicated is one word for it.” She shook her head. “Or dysfunctional.”

He looked down at her. “Why do you say that?”

“They're just…very intense. It's a very intense relationship. They fight and make up and swear the other one is killing them and then they go off on some big trip and they're crazy about each other again.” She shook her head. “It would be exhausting to live like that.”

“And it wouldn't leave a lot of energy for the children,” he commented.

“Bingo.”

“Still, love is a complicated thing, as you said. Why do we fall in love? It would be nice if it was always with someone who would be good for you, who'd take care of you, bring out the best, all that—but how often does it really happen?”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

His smile was wry. “Definitely.”

She frowned, thinking of Scott. Whom she had not
been thinking of enough. Was that a relationship based on love or need?

Until recently, she'd believed she loved him, but maybe it
was
more been a matter of convenience and suitability. He was a lawyer, she was a lawyer. They both liked having someone to go out to dinner with and to accompany each to various business functions. They'd traveled to appealing spots together on vacation—the lesser known islands of Hawaii, the less-Americanized east coast of Mexico, Belize. They understood the demands of the work schedule of a busy professional and neither was particularly upset when the other had to work.

Tidy, convenient, pleasant.

Or was that fair? He'd stuck by her after the rape. But it was still just a very polite relationship in ways.

The very opposite of her parents' relationship. But was that what she really wanted? Maybe it was possible to have something somewhere in between.

A thick tension rose in her chest. She felt guilty, not loving him after all he'd done. She wished she knew why she
didn't.

“Here we are,” Josh said, gesturing toward a stone house nestled close to the mountain rising behind it. It was made of reddish stone, with a small turret on the ground floor and a small second story. A deep wooden porch was furnished with chairs and a table, and a pot of winter-brushed marigolds stood in the middle of the table. Homey. A dog barked from a front window, only visible in silhouette.

“I see you have your dog, too.”

“Jack,” he agreed. “Told you, it's regulations.”

The door burst open and Glory rushed out, her long licorice hair scattering free over her arms and back. “Hi, Princess! Come in. We made tea, me and my grandma.” She flipped her hair. “Hi, Daddy. You can have some, too. If you want.”

“Gee, thanks.”

The dog came leaping out, too, a mutt of indeterminate parentage with long red fur and a big black head, and a lolling, happy tongue. He nosed her hand and wiggled around in a circle around Josh. “This,” Josh said, “is Jack.”

“Too many J's,” Juliet said.

He laughed.

Glory took Juliet's hand. “Come inside, Princess,” she said, gazing upward with naked admiration, and brushed hair out of her face. The little girl's small fingers were cool and dry, but very sure. “Come sit down.”

The house smelled of lemons and cinnamon, and beneath that, something Juliet couldn't quite name, a little sweet and exotic. They entered a large living room furnished simply with a slightly threadbare couch, two chairs and a giant ottoman, all gathered around a potbellied stove. A round table sat beneath a very old drop light made of frosted glass, and a large window topped with leaded glass looked down the street to a perfectly framed view of the town and a tumble of aspens above it.