Huckleberry Lake

by Catherine Anderson

  “Marcus will be back home in about three weeks,” Brody told his dad. “He and I can fix the fence in the west pasture. I checked on it the other day, and I’m pretty sure it’ll hold firm until then. It’ll be great to work with my boys again. As soon as school lets out, Blake and Hank can team up with us to get the work done, too. It’ll be good for them.”

  Brody met Erin’s gaze and grinned. “You look whupped, cousin. ’Bout time for you to knock off and carb up on Mama’s caramel streusel bars. They’re so good, your eyes will roll back in your head.”

  Erin wasn’t quite ready to quit for the day, but she could tell Brody wanted to spend some time with his dad. On such a large ranch, they probably didn’t get a lot of one-on-one moments together. She hugged her uncle goodbye. Then Brody caught her up in his arms for a hard squeeze, which caught her by surprise and made her laugh.

  “We’re family. Remember?” her older cousin told her. “You gotta stop being so standoffish.”

  Erin grinned up at him. “I wasn’t being standoffish. It’s just that I’m all sweaty.”

  As Brody released her, he pulled the brim of her cap down until it almost covered her eyes. “I’ll be sweatier than you are in a couple, so a little extra salt on my shirt now won’t matter a bit.”

  As Erin walked away, she hoped Wyatt might join her, but he remained with the men. Friends, only friends. He’d stressed that to her the other night, and she needed to remember it. No matter how attractive she found him to be, there could never be anything intimate between them.

  * * *

  * * *

  Julie had a bad case of late-afternoon drowsiness, which was compounded by a lack of business in her shop. In the early days of being a shop owner, she’d always panicked when the flow of customers trickled down to almost nothing, but nowadays she knew from experience that it was only a lull. Flagg’s Market was probably running a produce special or something. She decided to use the downtime to catch up on dusting and restocking shelves, polishing the oven fronts, and cleaning her beverage equipment.

  She had just defeated a syrup spill when the bell above her entrance door jangled. She turned from her task, wearing her customer smile, which faded abruptly when she saw Erin entering the shop. Only this wasn’t the Erin she had come to expect. Today the perfectly pressed deputy uniform had been replaced by faded jeans; a purple, wash-worn tank top; and a big blue shirt that was smeared with dirt. On her head, her friend wore a ball cap with her wealth of dark hair ponytailed out the back. Julie wasn’t shocked, exactly. Whenever Erin was out of uniform, she was a loose cannon when it came to her clothing ensembles. True to form, her tank top clashed with the red hat.

  “Well, my goodness, look what the cat dragged in,” Julie called. “I thought you were on duty today. I guess not.”

  Erin sauntered over to the ordering counter, which was a red flag to Julie. Her friend had been in counseling for nearly a year to get rid of her masculine mannerisms, and Julie had become her chief advisor. Sauntering was not allowed. Neither was hip jutting, a posture Erin assumed the moment she drew to a stop in front of the cash register.

  “Is business slow?” Erin asked. “I need an ear.”

  “Slow? The place has gone completely dead. I think Flagg’s is running another produce special.”

  “Nope. There’s an art festival at the town center. Kids from the high school are selling their paintings and crafts to raise money for the football team next year. All the proceeds will go to buy new uniforms and safety gear.”

  Julie’s shoulders relaxed. “Ah. So I’m losing my ass today for a good cause.” She went to make two coffees. “I’ll take a break with you, then. You can choose our table.” She angled her friend a searching look. “You dieting today? I have a new flavor I’m dying to try, caramel mocha with cinnamon, but I haven’t purchased any sugar-free syrup yet. I gotta try the real deal before I invest in another case of the stuff.”

  “Hit me,” Erin replied. “I burned off enough calories today to propel a Learjet from here to New York.”

  Julie quickly created their drinks, topping them off with whipped cream. She found Erin sprawled on a chair at what Julie called the lube table, featuring a spouted oil can that held a spray of daffodils and fern. She set down her friend’s coffee and took a seat across from her, thinking that Erin’s choice of table might be psychologically significant and could mean that she was slipping back down the slippery slope of behavioral change into her father’s clutches. Again.

  “What’s up?” She studied Erin’s expression. “First, you look worn out. But you also look happier and more relaxed than I’ve seen you in a while.”

  “I am happy and relaxed.” Erin took a sip of her coffee and came away with a white mustache, which she squeegeed away with a sideways sweep of her tongue. “Yum. Just what the doctor ordered.” She sighed, slumped on the chair, and spread her denim-clad legs in an unladylike manner. “I switched shifts with Serena to give her Sunday off. Kind of unexpected, so I had free time and went out to see Uncle Slade right after I grabbed lunch. He was fixing a section of fence, and I got to help.”

  Julie sensed something afoot. “And?”

  Erin’s blue eyes sparkled. “I had the best time. Working out in the field with him was incredible, Julie. I honestly think I could skip college and just do that for a living.”

  “You want to become a fence fixer?”

  “No, ranching. I think I might love being a rancher.”

  A career in fence repair had sounded bad, but in Julie’s estimation, ranching was even worse. “How long has it been since you had a counseling session with Jonas? He’d be a better sounding board.”

  Erin wrinkled her nose. “Are you hearing me? I see Jonas because I’m unhappy! Today I’m not unhappy. I’m actually excited for the first time in more years than I want to count. I loved being out there, Jules! It’s like a different world, maybe my world. The elusive something I’ve been searching for practically all my life and could never find because I looked in all the wrong places.”

  Julie’s heart squeezed. She’d known Erin for a year now, and she’d never seen her face glow with such enthusiasm. “You honestly think you’ve missed your calling to be a rancher?”

  Erin leaned forward over her mug. “There are no rules out there. I don’t need to worry about how I walk or how I talk or how I’m dressed. It’s like—hell, I don’t know—like I’ve been lost all my life, searching for home, and it was right under my nose the whole time. I feel as if I belong there.”

  Julie didn’t wish to burst Erin’s bubble, but she was in business for herself and had some experience. “I’m not dissing the idea, Erin. Please don’t think that. But it isn’t that simple. You can’t just decide you want to be a rancher and become one. You need a piece of land. And buildings—the horse and cow kinds. And fences. Do you know how much that would cost?”

  “My mom turned her back on her heritage,” Erin retorted. “And by doing that, she denied me mine. I’m a Wilder. I have as much right to a share of that ranch as my cousin Brody does! And that was how it felt today, like I’d gone home. It was so fricking liberating to be out there, pitting my strength against the earth. You just don’t get it.”

  Julie took a bracing sip of her coffee and plucked a napkin from the holder to blot her upper lip. “I do get it. I’m just saying that you must have a ranch in order to be a rancher, and as it stands, you don’t. Are you honestly thinking about talking your mom into reinstating herself as half owner of the Wilder Ranch? Are you prepared to mess up your uncle’s life after he’s worked that place all alone for half a century? And what about Brody? He’s got three boys who stand to inherit the place from him. What happens if you take half of the pie away from him?”

  Erin slumped lower on the chair, but her posture was no longer relaxed. “You’re right. I can’t do that to Uncle Slade or Brody, and I sure don’t have the money t
o buy my own place.”

  Julie felt awful for playing devil’s advocate. “There’s a bright spot. You’ll always be welcome out there. No matter what you decide to do professionally, you can go home whenever you want.”

  Erin closed her eyes. Then she shoved up the bill of her cap and sat up straight. “I don’t really need to own a place. People still go into ranching. Look at Wyatt, Tex, and Kennedy. They have no financial interest in the Wilder Ranch, but they still work there for fairly good wages, plus room and board.”

  “I suppose you could join them. I’m sure your uncle would give you a job. But do you really want to go into a new profession riding on his sense of familial obligation?”

  Erin slumped again. “No, of course not. I’m such a rookie that he’d have to teach me everything from the ground up, and I’m sure there’s a lot to learn. But there are other ranches that need hired hands. Maybe right around Mystic Creek. I could apply for jobs on my own merit and possibly land a position.”

  “Yes, you could do that,” Julie conceded. “But I think you’d be wise to consider all the angles first. Maybe spend more time actually working on a ranch. Visit your uncle a lot. Get out there and grub around. This could be a life-altering decision, and you should be certain it’s really right for you.”

  “I truly think it may be what I was meant to do,” Erin said softly.

  Studying her friend’s dirt-smudged face, Julie felt concerned. She thought about just keeping her mouth shut, but she and Erin had bypassed the need to be cautious in their relationship. “It seems to me that your discontentment with your job must be weighing heavily on your mind for you to come up with this idea. Hiring on as a ranch hand? It came out of the blue.”

  Erin smiled and shook her head. “Come on, Julie. Not looking at my options and following my heart is what landed me in this mess. I understand your concern, though. I haven’t been out at the ranch enough yet to say for sure, but I think I might really enjoy the lifestyle. It would upset my parents, of course, but when I leave law enforcement, they’ll be furious no matter what.”

  Julie sipped her coffee. “If you spend time there and still feel you’d be happy doing ranch work, more power to you. Taking that direction in life would cost you a lot less than returning to school. Just be sure it’s really what you want and that you’re not going off the deep end simply because you’re unhappy as a deputy.”

  Using a coffee stick, Erin stirred the whipped cream into her drink. “I’ll think it over before I make a decision.” She sighed and grinned. “Thanks for listening and keeping an open mind. I know it must sound a little crazy. So enough about me and my job debacle. What’s happening with you?”

  Julie heard Erin’s stomach growl and got up to get them each a cinnamon roll. “Not much besides work,” she replied from behind the display case.

  “Where are you with Blackie? The last time we talked, you sounded as if you were ready for a relationship and he looked pretty appealing.”

  Carrying a tray laden with baked goods and two plates, Julie walked back to the table. “I’m still waffling.” She set the food to one side of the floral arrangement and then chuckled at the look of distaste on Erin’s face. “Come on. Forget dieting and live a little. You did say that you burned off a lot of calories working out there. Toil like a rancher, eat like a rancher. One or two goodies won’t put weight on you.”

  Erin took a plate, plucked two napkins from the dispenser, and selected a roll. “You’re right. And I’m famished. I may go wild and have three.” She met and held Julie’s gaze with a glint of curiosity in her blue eyes. “And you just changed the subject. What about Blackie?”

  Julie filled a plate for herself. “Honestly? I like the man. A lot. And I’m definitely attracted to him. For me, that’s saying something, because I haven’t felt as much as a twinge of desire for another man since the divorce.”

  Still chewing a bite of cinnamon roll, Erin dabbed the napkin at the corners of her lips and swallowed. “If you’re attracted to him, why not explore the possibilities?”

  Julie chased a mouthful of glazed donut with a swallow of coffee. “Actually, I’m having him over for dinner tomorrow night. Not a date kind of thing. It’s my way of thanking him for holding on to Grandma’s ring.” Julie raised her eyebrows and shrugged again. “Maybe I’ll explore the possibilities then.”

  * * *

  * * *

  The remainder of Kennedy’s week was tough. While recovering from the fight, he managed to keep up with his studies, but he wasn’t his usual, energetic self. By Saturday, he felt a little better, and with the sense of normalcy, he began to worry about the little blonde at the burger joint. She’d been pretty shaken up on Wednesday night, and he wondered how she was doing. Since he had no classes on the weekend, he decided to return to the hamburger place after he finished his ranch chores and had studied for a while.

  He was pleased to see the blonde waiting on customers in the drive-in section of the eatery, and he parked next to an intercom, hoping she might deliver his order. After a short wait, he saw her exit the building and held his breath as she skated along the median. She slowed in front of his truck. A rosy blush touched her cheeks as she approached his lowered driver’s window, which made his stomach clench. He hoped she wasn’t embarrassed about seeing him again.

  “Hey,” he said by way of greeting. “I didn’t expect to see you back at work this soon. How are you doing? I hope you didn’t get hurt the other night.”

  She propped the food tray on his window. “I’m okay. A few bruises, nothing more. It was scary coming back, but my dad says the only way for me to move beyond it is to climb back in the saddle.”

  Kennedy had heard that old cowboy adage all his life. “It has to be hard, though.”

  The color in her cheeks deepened. Kennedy spent a moment admiring her eyes, which were blue and defined by lashes a shade darker than her golden hair. He appreciated that she wore little, if any, makeup. She was pretty without it. “Yes. It has been hard. But facing stuff instead of running from it is always the wiser choice.” She toyed with the collar of her white, short-sleeve blouse and cast a nervous glance over her shoulder as a car pulled in across from him. “I’m glad you stopped by, because I wanted to thank you for helping me. I don’t even know your name, so I couldn’t try to contact you.”

  “Kennedy Fitzgerald. But no thanks are necessary. It was no big deal.”

  She glanced at his head. Kennedy had tried to hide the shaved place with a comb-over, which Wyatt said made him look like Donald Trump.

  “You were hurt. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s nothing much.”

  She fiddled with her collar again. “I’d like to talk some more, but I’m on the clock. Would you mind giving me your number? That way I can call and thank you properly. Maybe treat you to a movie or something.”

  Kennedy was charmed by her innocent overture of friendliness, but he was also alarmed by his reaction to her. She was way too young for him. “That would be fun.”

  As if she guessed his thoughts, she said, “I’m a senior, about to graduate, and almost eighteen.”

  Almost wasn’t good enough for Kennedy. Even when she turned eighteen, he’d still be four, almost five, years older. And he’d learned the hard way that brushing elbows with trouble could rub off on a guy in unpleasant ways. Nevertheless, he gave her his number, pausing between digits as she entered each one into her phone.

  “Thanks,” she said as she skated back to the median. “My name’s Jenette Johnson. I’ll be in touch!”

  Kennedy’s appetite for the hamburger and fries was ruined. He couldn’t get involved with her. No way. Then he realized she’d forgotten to make him pay for the food. “Hey, wait! What do I owe you?”

  She waved him off. “It’s my treat.”

  Before he could protest, she was zooming back to the building, her blond hair flowing in t
he wind behind her. He sat for a moment and then reached for the foil-wrapped sandwich and envelope of fries, which he set on the center console. After putting his capped soda in the cupholder, he rang the intercom buzzer for tray removal. He was relieved when Jenette’s coworker, a brunette who wore a lot of makeup, came to collect it.

  As Kennedy drove back to the ranch, he promised himself that he wouldn’t see Jenette again. She was still just a kid. In a few more years, she’d probably be a complete knockout, but by then he would have his degree and be long gone. He hoped he would be lucky enough to get an assignment near his hometown of Klamath Falls, and that was a three-hour drive south, too far away for him to visit Mystic Creek often. Who am I kidding? he asked himself. Jenette is already a knockout, and that’s the whole problem. I need to stay away from her.

  Once back on the ranch, he’d just pulled into the parking area near the main house when his phone jangled a text notification. He didn’t recognize the number, which meant it wasn’t one of his contacts. Curious, he opened the message.

  Hi. This is Jenette. I just wanted to tell you that the mouthiest guy, the one with the knife, is my ex-boyfriend. I broke up with him because he wanted to have sex and tried to force me one night. I think he’s got a screw loose, and I want nothing more to do with him. I have plans for college. My older sister got pregnant in her senior year. She got married, had the baby, and got divorced. There went her plans for college. I can’t let that happen to me. I want to be a vet and work in a wildlife shelter to rehabilitate rescued animals.

  Kennedy groaned. In addition to being beautiful, Jenette had a lot in common with him. He was taking a different approach, but his goal was to work on behalf of the wildlife, too. Damn. She was perfect for him. And that made him angry for reasons he couldn’t quite define. He left his hamburger on the console, not caring if it spoiled, and walked to the horse barn to muck out the stalls he hadn’t gotten to earlier.