Huckleberry Lake

by Catherine Anderson

  She led the way through open French doors onto the deck. “I love your apartment. I’ve been to Jonas Sterling’s place above the Straw Hat. Since Jonas doesn’t own it, he’s done no improvements, so the place is still partitioned off into too many rooms for the space. It’s nice, but it sure doesn’t have the open feeling that you’ve created.”

  Blackie felt the tension easing from his shoulders. As lovely as she looked and as naked as her shoulders might be, she hadn’t staged a seduction scene. The outdoor table was set for casual dining. An ice bucket held two bottles of white wine and two bottles of beer. He didn’t fail to note that she’d bought the same brand of ale that he’d drunk that evening when he’d taken her up to his apartment. She had a gift for helping people relax. She talked a lot, smiled even more, and didn’t put on airs.

  “I was going to cook something fancy,” she told him, “but so often when I do that, something goes wrong and I have a kitchen disaster. Then I’m all nerved up and can’t enjoy myself. So tonight I went for simple, a chicken enchilada casserole, a tossed salad, and a loaf of garlic bread I baked fresh today.” She lifted the lid off the appetizer tray. “I made canapés, also easy. No fuss, no muss. That way we can focus on good wine and conversation.”

  Blackie removed his jacket as she filled two wineglasses from a chilled bottle. “Just as a starter,” she told him. “You can enjoy the beer as well.”

  “I do have to drive home,” he said with a laugh.

  “Oh, but this is Mystic Creek, surrounded by country roads. The biggest danger is a deer bolting out in front of the car.”

  “And cops. Our sheriff’s department is extremely well staffed because this is the official county seat.”

  “One beer, then,” she conceded with a laugh.

  Blackie draped his coat over the back of a chair and helped himself to a canapé before he even sat down. Julie grinned and followed suit as she took a seat across from him. The breeze picked up just then, molding her silky top to her upper body and lifting her dark hair to drape it over her slender shoulders. He wasn’t sure he liked the blue streak, but on Julie it somehow worked. She sat back and crossed her legs. On her narrow feet, she wore burnished gold sandals that showed off dainty toenails painted the same color as her blouse.

  “These are delicious!” he said after he swallowed the bite of food.

  “My version of smoked salmon-and-pea vol-au-vents.” She took a bite. “The recipe called for serving them warm, so I altered it a bit, made them ahead, and chilled them instead. I wanted to enjoy your visit. Too many last-minute things keep me in the kitchen.”

  Her pronunciation of the French words was almost perfect, telling Blackie she’d studied the language either in high school or college. Most of his classmates had taken Spanish, which was a more practical language to know in the States, but Blackie had always been a romantic. At one point in his life, he’d yearned to visit Paris. He’d fancied himself to be an artist at the time and had later discovered he couldn’t paint worth a darn.

  “You studied French.”

  She laughed. “Only enough to get myself into trouble if I ever make it to France. If I do, I’m renting a chalet at a vineyard and spending most of my time in the tasting room.” She pointed a finger at him. “Never fear. I don’t plan to take up wine making. As I told you, I’m way more interested in the complexity of beers. But in college, I fancied myself to be quite the sommelier and came to love wine.”

  Blackie tasted her selection and winked at her. “Nice choice.”

  Their conversation turned to the French language and places they yearned to visit in that country. With a glass of wine under his belt, Blackie forgot to be nervous about Julie wanting babies and was able to simply enjoy being with her. As they savored the taste of the canapés and sipped chardonnay, they discussed business, beer making, and how best to go about starting a brewery. Blackie got so caught up in the conversation that he helped her carry things from the kitchen for their meal rather than allow a lull in their exchanges. Blackie couldn’t help but think how perfect Julie was for him, but there was absolutely no way he wanted to start a family at his age, and he feared that she had her sights set on kids.

  Over the enchilada casserole, which was delicious, Blackie ventured a leading sentence. “Well, if you’re really into starting a brewing company, you’d better have your children soon. Starting another business won’t leave you much time for burping babies and changing diapers.”

  She laughed and flapped her hand. “Bite your tongue. I’m all done with the baby idea. In my twenties, oh, yeah. I wanted children. But no longer. Maybe I’ve grown selfish, but since my divorce, I want it to be all about me—and maybe about a significant other. I love my life as it is. Well, I still dream of a brewery, to be honest, and trips to exotic locales. But mostly I’m happy right where I am, with the freedom to do whatever I want when the mood strikes. The shop holds me down, of course, but as time wears on, I hope to afford another baker and employees to work out front. That’ll give me lots of time for traveling, and I won’t have to worry about the business suffering while I’m gone.”

  Blackie liked the sound of that, and he also noted that she seemed willing to make room in her life for a man. Julie shivered and ran inside for a wrap while Blackie donned his jacket. She was laughing when she emerged from the house with an afghan draped over her shoulders. It made her look like a beautiful gypsy.

  “I have a shawl, but it’s crocheted and so holey it won’t keep me warm!”

  So was her blouse, but he refrained from saying so. “Despite the chill, I’m enjoying this. It feels good to eat outside. The fresh air, the fading sunlight, the sound of birds chirping as they settle on their roosts. Truth be told, I just plain love being outdoors. That’s why I walk and hike instead of going to a gym.”

  “I’m the same way. Even when there’s snow on the sidewalks and the going is icy, I prefer to walk for exercise.”

  “You ever hike?”

  “No. I’m a little wary about going into the mountains alone.”

  “You should go with me sometime. My favorite walks are up the Strawberry Hill and Huckleberry Lake trails. Beautiful at all times of year. I even sneak in one last hike on each trail after the first snowfall. It’s incredibly gorgeous in the mountains then.”

  “Oh, I’d love to go up with someone familiar with the area!” she exclaimed. “If I encountered a bear or cougar, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  Blackie laughed. “I know what to do if I come face-to-face with something that’ll eat me, but I’ve never had that experience.”

  “You have the look of a man who can handle almost any situation.”

  Blackie appreciated the tip of her hat to his physical condition, but he chuckled nevertheless. “I’m a fast runner.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Aw, a humble man. I like that.”

  Blackie was feeling the same way about her. He liked almost everything about her. Gazing across the table at her, he couldn’t help but think how perfect they were for each other. He wondered if the same thought had occurred to her. He needed to guard his heart, though. The age difference between them was an obstacle. He’d be an idiot to forget that. She was a young and beautiful woman. If she hung out her shingle, every unmarried man in town under forty would be pounding on her door. Why would she settle for a fifty-three-year-old guy who’d probably develop coronary disease over the next decade?

  They moved on from the topic of hiking to talk a bit about their disastrous marriages again. Then they discussed life as single people. They shared their tastes in music, literature, and film. He was delighted to learn that she was also an art enthusiast.

  Blackie said, “I wouldn’t know a DiCaprio if it ran up and bit me on the ass.”

  As he’d hoped, her eyes widened in dismay. “It’s Da Vinci who was the artist. DiCaprio is a film star.”

  Blackie gave he
r an I gotcha wink, and she burst out laughing.

  The mood between them became so relaxed that Blackie dared to broach another topic: his expectations of a relationship. “I doubt that I’ll ever want to marry again,” he said. “And I absolutely don’t want a kid at this point in my life. Back in my thirties—hell, even in my forties—I mourned the fact that I’d never have children. But I’ve moved beyond that now.”

  Her smile faded, and her expression grew solemn. “I can tell you’re worried about that, but with me, you shouldn’t be. There was a time when I thought of little else but having a baby. In retrospect I wonder if I wasn’t searching for an easy fix to my troubled marriage. Whatever the reason, the last thing I want now is a child. Even if I were happily married again, I’d think twice. I enjoy my life the way it is. I like sleeping in on my days off, walking in the rain, and puttering in my gardens. Oh, and I’m a shopping fanatic as well. Have you ever seen a mother of young children enjoying a shopping excursion?”

  She pretended to shudder, which made Blackie chuckle. “No, ma’am, I can’t say I have. I like kids. Don’t get me wrong. Even at my age, I’m still in good enough shape to be a competent parent for a while. But what about when I’m in my sixties?” He shook his head. “Nope. I missed my window of opportunity. It wouldn’t be fair to a child to have an old man as a daddy.”

  After helping Julie tidy the kitchen, Blackie invited her for a moonlight walk. She donned a jacket. Since she lived on the golf course and it was after-hours, Blackie led her onto one of the cart paths. At some point, she slipped her hand into his, and when they came upon a water feature, Blackie gathered the courage to kiss her. She had the softest, most inviting lips he’d ever tasted. She opened sweetly for him and pressed her body close to his. Within seconds he was aroused and knew she was as well. Young stud antics were far behind him, though, meaning sex on a golf course was out. He drew back and cupped her face between his hands.

  “You’re too young and beautiful for me,” he said softly.

  “And you’re too wonderful and mature for me,” she retorted just as softly. “We can think this to death, Blackie. Most people would tell us we’re nuts. But do we really care? This feels right to me.”

  “It feels right to me, too, honey. But I’ll admit that frightens me. I got my heart walked on once, and it’s taken me damned near twenty years to recover.”

  “Ditto,” she said with a laugh. “Well, not for the twenty years of recovery, but for the rest. I got my heart broken, too. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for us to connect, because we understand each other.”

  “So . . . ? Where are we going with this?” he asked.

  “I have no idea,” she confessed. “I kind of lied to you the last time you asked me that. I said I wasn’t in the market for anything intimate, that I was looking for a male friend. The truth is, I was already attracted to you on many different levels, one of them physical, but I was too big a coward to tell you so.”

  He ran his thumbs up to her temples and felt the rapid thrum of her pulse. That turned him on as nothing she said ever could, but he forced himself to release her and take a step back. “When you reach a point where this no longer frightens you, just let me know.”

  “And then?”

  Blackie wasn’t going to pull the wool over this young woman’s eyes. She was too honest for him to do her that disservice. “I’ll decide if my courage is as great as yours is, I guess.”

  She burst into a fit of giggles and laughed so hard that Blackie grasped her arm to hold her upright. She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Blackie, this is so dangerous. I could very easily fall madly in love with you.”

  His heart caught, because he was feeling the same way. “When terrain is dangerous, smart people tread cautiously.”

  She didn’t pull away as he walked her home. Instead she snuggled closer within the circle of his arm.

  And that felt so perfectly right that it scared him half to death.

  Chapter Nine

  Kennedy was having a serious problem with his cravings for hamburgers, not the kind he could make at home, but the ones he could buy only at the Mystical Burger Shack. He couldn’t seem to let an evening go by without going to the burger joint to be served by a pretty blonde on roller skates. Had he gone crazy? But even when she was super busy, Jen found time to stand beside his truck and visit with him, and he enjoyed her company. She was witty and liked to laugh, but she was also serious about her plans for college. She vowed that she would never do anything stupid to screw up her future, and he really liked that about her.

  Unlike so many kids at the university who seemed hell-bent on partying, Jen understood why Kennedy walked the straight and narrow. It was kind of weird, actually, that she had such a firm grasp of the situation Kennedy was in when she was still only in high school. But she’d been thinking about college ever since her freshman year, and she knew no money was likely to fall off a tree in her backyard. She said she would be in school for a long time in order to become a vet, and once she graduated, she’d have to work really long hours to pay off her student loans and make ends meet. That meant she’d have to wait to have a baby in her thirties.

  Jen’s dad had talked to her boss about his daughter working different hours. Because of what had happened with Jen’s ex-boyfriend, he didn’t want her to work until closing for a while. The new owner of the burger joint hadn’t done a very good job of watching the camera monitor, which was in the kitchen. And, hello, the jock was still at large. Because Jen hadn’t been seriously hurt, the kid had spent only one night in jail and then had gotten released into his father’s custody. He was in big trouble, of course, and would have to go before a judge, but chances were good that he’d get only some probation and a slap on the wrist. That meant he was still a threat, and Jen’s dad worried that he might come back to the burger shack to harass her. As a result, Jen got off before dark now, and Kennedy was glad of that. He doubted her jerk of an ex-boyfriend would dare to cause her any more grief, but he liked that her dad was being proactive.

  The change in Jen’s hours disrupted Kennedy’s study times. He had to go in for a burger earlier in the evening, before it got dark. On the three days a week he had classes, he drove back to Mystic Creek to get his work done on the ranch, grabbed a quick shower, and then went back into town for dinner. He thought of his visits with Jen as his dessert. When he got back to the ranch, he still had KP duty in the bunkhouse, so he helped put away food and then did his part to clean up the kitchen. Wyatt said the rules remained the same even when Kennedy didn’t eat with all the guys. Dining out was Kennedy’s choice, but not being present for a meal didn’t mean he was off the hook. On Kennedy’s nights to cook, which only happened about one night a week with five guys on the payroll, Kennedy would have to stay home and throw a meal together. Kennedy didn’t mind that, and he sure didn’t mind doing his chores on the ranch. Slade had given him a sweet deal, free room and board, plus a little in wages. Kennedy knew he was way better off than a lot of college students who had to work to help pay their way.

  One evening when Kennedy went to the burger shack, he noticed Jen was fidgety and kept looking over her shoulder at the cars pulling in. “Is the jock still pestering you?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Not really. I blocked him on my phone, so he can’t even text me now.”

  Kennedy didn’t like the sound of that. “After getting into that much trouble, he still had the nerve to text you?”

  Jen wrinkled her nose and tried to smile, but Kennedy could tell it was forced. “He’s a spoiled brat. Has a rich daddy who never tells him no, and his mom’s not around to change that.”

  “Where is she, always at a spa?”

  Jen laughed. “Rob’s folks are divorced, and Rob was old enough to choose which parent he wanted to live with. He hates his mom. At first, I thought she was a really bad person, but now I think she
just had the guts to tell Rob no.”

  “Maybe he wouldn’t be such a dick if she was still around.”

  Jen shrugged again. “Sorry if I’m acting nervous. I’d recognize the sound of his car if he pulled in, but last time I was inside when he came. When you’re in the kitchen, you can’t hear much of anything outside. People are yelling back and forth.”

  Kennedy wished she could quit working for a while. Eventually the jock would find some other girl to fixate on. “I don’t blame you for being nervous. I was there, remember. I get it.”

  This time her smile was genuine. “And I’m glad you were there. If you hadn’t stepped in, they would have gotten me into the car.” Her lips thinned and she glanced over her shoulder again. “I shouldn’t think about what might have happened. But I do. And it’s always in the back of my mind that Rob might come in one of his friends’ cars. You know? No glasspack muffler to warn me.”

  The outdoor buzzer went off, which was Jen’s signal that another order was ready to be delivered. “Sorry. Gotta go.”

  Kennedy watched her skate away, wishing the jock would leave Mystic Creek and never bother her again. He couldn’t believe the stupid jerk had dared to send her threatening text messages. And there was no doubt in Kennedy’s mind that the messages had been threatening. There was something haywire about that kid. Maybe he was doing other drugs besides weed. Kennedy just hoped Jen would tell him if the dude was still giving her trouble.

  * * *

  * * *

  The next evening when Kennedy pulled in at the burger shack, the place was hopping. All the parking spots were taken, and people were honking their horns for service. The owner, a stout guy in his fifties who wore an orange Burger Shack hat and shirt, was outside without any skates, trying to deliver orders, and he looked totally pissed off. Kennedy positioned his truck next to the building and got out to ask what was wrong. He didn’t see Jen, which was odd, because she’d texted him earlier that she was working.