Huckleberry Lake

by Catherine Anderson

  The moment Erin clapped eyes on Aiden Fitzgerald, she knew where Wyatt and Kennedy had gotten their laser-blue eyes and Norsemen good looks. Aiden stood as tall as his sons and had the same strapping body of a warrior. Jessica, his wife, was of smaller stature, with dark hair and pale blue eyes that were nothing less than stunning.

  “So this is the young woman who finally caught my son’s eye,” Aiden said as he walked a tight circle around Erin and gave her the once-over. When he returned to stand in front of her again, he winked at Wyatt and said, “She’ll do.” Jessica thumped her husband on the arm, elbowed him aside, and stepped in close to give Erin a big hug. “Ignore the man. He’s spent so much of his life staring at cows’ butts that he has no manners at all.”

  When Aiden threw back his blond head and laughed, Erin knew it would be all right. Her future parents-in-law seemed to have accepted the marriage and be delighted for their son. They wouldn’t raise any objections at this late hour. She left Wyatt to reunite with them while she showed Jen around camp. The girl had color in her cheeks and looked almost fully recovered.

  “I like Kennedy’s mom and dad. Don’t you?”

  “Well, I don’t really know them yet, but I figure they must be fine people, because they raised Wyatt and Kennedy. They’re pretty special men.”

  Vickie and Slade appeared last, both of them on horseback and leading heavily laden pack animals behind them. Atop one of the beasts of burden, Ginger traveled inside a wire cage. The crowd of people awaiting her arrival let loose with an appreciative rumble when she first came into view. She was a little, fluffy thing with fur the color of a cinnamon stick, and she had the most adorable face Erin had ever seen. Four Toes had moseyed up the mountain on foot, of course, and it was clear that his interest had been piqued by the presence of another bear.

  Erin had become fond of Four Toes during the time she’d been working at the ranch, and she sincerely hoped he fell wildly in love with Ginger. Slade took excellent care of the older bear, and now Ginger would be treated to the same loving environment where she could wander the huge acreage during the day and then retire to the compound with Four Toes at night. Erin knew little about wild bears, but she believed these two would have a wonderful life together.

  The “first meet,” which had been whispered about on the sidewalks of Mystic Creek for nearly two weeks, didn’t go as smoothly as all the humans had hoped. The moment Ginger was on the ground and looked up at the massive Four Toes, she squealed and ran. Slade tried to catch her, but he wasn’t fast enough to nab the yearling bear, whose feet had been lent speed by terror. Several of the younger people, Erin included, dashed out into the forest after her, but no one succeeded in apprehending Ginger. Everyone became worried about the little bear’s safety.

  “Wyatt and I haven’t had a chance to mention it, Uncle Slade, but we’ve had wolves coming in on our camp. Wyatt thinks they’re after the horses, but it probably isn’t safe for a little bear out here, either.”

  Slade scowled. “Where did Four Toes get off to?”

  Kennedy chimed in. “I didn’t see him leave, but I’ll bet he’s following Ginger. Maybe he’ll get her settled down and bring her back.”

  Slade wasn’t content to stand around and wait for his bears to return. “She’s used to people. I think I’ll go scouting on Bogey to see what I can see. Maybe if I call her, she’ll come running. She’s never been out in the woods alone, and she must be frightened.”

  Slade was gone over an hour, and his mission was unsuccessful. “I didn’t see hide nor hair of either bear. Damn it! Now I’ve lost both of them.”

  His hangdog expression didn’t bode well for the double wedding scheduled for that evening. Erin had envisioned herself going to her and Wyatt’s wall tent to change into her wedding dress so she could enjoy wearing it over the afternoon. It was a simple, floral sundress with coordinating sandals, exactly like Julie’s ensemble. The two of them had decided to be twins for the day. Only Erin couldn’t just wander off to do her own thing when both bears had gone missing. She and Wyatt could always get married another day. If they didn’t find Four Toes and Ginger, the bears might meet with a bad end, and that had to be her main focus whether it was her wedding day or not. The men were talking about forming a search party on horses before it got any later.

  Erin had just whispered to Julie that she feared the weddings couldn’t take place until Ginger was found when Four Toes lumbered out of the woods. The three-year-old bear rolled over onto his back as if he wanted to sunbathe. It was then that Erin saw Ginger peeking out through the bright green boughs of a sapling ponderosa. She had clearly followed Four Toes back to camp, but now, whether due to fear of the bigger bear or of people, she mewled and wouldn’t come out of the forest.

  Four Toes groaned and regained his feet. He lumbered back over to Ginger and lay down in the shade of a towering ponderosa. At that point, the male bear began bellowing for food, as was his habit. Jake grabbed a tub of baked goods and carried it out to Four Toes. Instead of eating, the bear ignored all the goodies and rolled onto his back again, looking silly and harmless, which lured the smaller bear from her hiding place. When Four Toes reached up with a massive front paw to touch Ginger’s chin, she scampered away from him, crying in fear as cubs will.

  “Well,” Slade said, “she’s hanging in close, and I know she can smell the food in that tub. Hopefully, Four Toes will convince her to lie down with him.”

  Erin hoped so. Even though this was supposed to be her and Julie’s big day, Erin decided that she would postpone her wedding if the little bear wouldn’t settle in with Four Toes before the scheduled time for the nuptials. She didn’t want Vickie and Slade to be so worried that they couldn’t enjoy the celebration. And she didn’t want to be upset, either.

  Holding Erin’s hand, Wyatt led her around the camp to visit with friends from Mystic Creek who sat on lawn chairs in meager patches of shade. Erin enjoyed catching up with everyone. Even her former boss, Blake Adams, and his wife, Marietta, were in attendance. Over the course of the afternoon, Erin had been poured so many cups of wine or beer that she had to dump the contents behind trees on the sly. The last thing she wanted was to be tipsy as she joined hands in marriage with the wonderful man who walked beside her.

  She was delighted to see that Four Toes had finally succeeded in soothing Ginger’s fears. The pair of bears ate ravenously from the tub of baked goods and then snuggled up together under the tree to have a nap. Everyone who’d witnessed the bear nuptials was pleased by that outcome. A common refrain around camp was that Ginger now knew where her food would come from, and even if she dashed away again, she probably wouldn’t go far. She lay curled up against Four Toes’s big belly as if he was now her protector. Erin believed that Four Toes was already wrapped around Ginger’s little bear claw and would fight to the death to make sure nothing happened to her.

  That evening, Mother Nature worked her magic to create a beautiful wedding venue as the sunset glimmered on the lake in streaks of rose. Wyatt and Erin, and Blackie and Julie, exchanged vows with the preacher officiating. Kennedy stood in as Wyatt’s best man. Both brides walked across a short expanse of meadow to reach their grooms, Julie with Tony Chavez, who’d offered to give her away, and Erin with Uncle Slade, who had agreed to stand in as her father. Julie wasn’t ready to tell her family that she was pregnant, so she hadn’t notified them of her wedding. Erin had chosen not to invite her parents simply because this was her and Wyatt’s moment. Her mother would detest the montane scenery, and her father would have kittens over her plans to be a rancher. She wanted to begin her life with Wyatt on a happy and positive note. He understood that and reminded her that her folks would have plenty of opportunity to rain on their parade later.

  When the wedding ceremony began, Wyatt watched the preacher intently instead of gazing down at Erin. Erin understood that he was reading the minister’s lips, and since she wanted him to remembe
r this wonderful moment for the rest of their lives, she didn’t allow herself to feel slighted.

  As they had agreed prior to the wedding, Erin and Wyatt made their vows in ASL and then repeated them vocally for all the witnesses. And Erin got plenty of deep, heartfelt attention from Wyatt as he vowed to love and cherish her in sign language for the rest of his life. She knew ASL was Wyatt’s first language, liberating him from the effort it took to formulate words in spoken English. Blackie and Julie repeated their vows shortly after Wyatt and Erin did. With the breeze blowing like a kiss across the pristine mountain lake and fading sunlight shimmering on the deep green grass in brushstrokes of pink, it was an incredibly beautiful ceremony.

  When the moment came for Wyatt to seal their union with a kiss, Erin could finally feel truly glad that she had been born a girl, because now she could be Wyatt Fitzgerald’s woman. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend the rest of her life.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from

  A Mystic Creek novel by Catherine Anderson

  SPRING FORWARD

  Available now from Jove

  Wind whistled into the big black van, whipping Tanner Richards’ hair across his forehead as he drove. Squinting at the gravel road through the brown strands drifting over his eyes, he hauled in a deep breath of pine-scented air. Five years ago he’d agonized over his decision to sell his accounting firm and move to Crystal Falls, Oregon. He’d given up a six-figure annual income with no assurance that he could even find a job in this area. Crazy, really. Looking back on it now, though, he was glad that he’d come. Being a deliveryman wasn’t as prestigious as working in his former chosen profession, but he made enough money to provide a good life for his kids, and he truly enjoyed the occupation. Having a rural route suited him. He was required to make fewer stops than he would have been in town, which equated to shorter workdays and more time in the evening to be with his children. And he’d made a lot of friends. Folks around here were more congenial than they were in larger towns.

  As he rounded a curve in the country road, Tanner saw Tuck Malloy’s house. Sadness punched into him. For three years running, he’d often stopped there to visit at the end of his workday, and he’d enjoyed a lot of cold ones on the porch with his elderly friend. Now the windows reflected the darkness of an empty structure. A For Sale sign rode high on the front gate. It had appeared nearly a month ago.

  Tanner had considered calling the Realtor to learn what had happened to the property owner after his calls to Tuck went unanswered, but he really didn’t want to know. Tuck had been a crusty old codger and eighty years young, as he’d been fond of saying. Unexpected things could happen to people that age. A heart attack, maybe, or a stroke. Tuck liked that piece of ground, and he would never have left voluntarily. He’d said so more than once. Tanner figured the old fellow was dead. Otherwise why would his place be up for sale?

  Tanner pulled over and stopped outside the hurricane fence for a moment, a habit he had developed since the home had been vacated. He trailed his gaze over the front porch, now devoid of the comfortable Adirondack chairs where he had once sat with Tuck to chat. Recalling the old man’s recalcitrant dog, he smiled. Rip. Tanner hoped the blue heeler had found a good home. He’d been a handful and was probably difficult to place.

  Damn, he missed them both. With a sigh Tanner eased the van back onto the road. He had only one more delivery before he could call it a day. Maybe he could mow the lawn and do some weeding before his kids got home. Tori, now eight, had dance class after school today, and Michael, eleven and getting gangly, had baseball practice. Since his wife’s death, Tanner had been a single dad, and not a day went by that he wasn’t grateful for his mom’s help. She got his kids off to the bus stop each morning and chauffeured them to most of their activities, which took a huge load of responsibility off his shoulders.

  Tanner delivered the last parcel of the day. After he dropped the van off at Courier Express, he needed to pick up some groceries. Milk, for one thing. Tori wouldn’t eat breakfast without it. And if he didn’t get bread, he’d have no fixings for his lunch tomorrow.

  His cell phone, which rode atop a sticky mat on the dash, chimed with a message notification. Tanner grabbed the device and glanced at the screen to make sure the text wasn’t from his mother. She never contacted him during work hours unless it was urgent. When he read the name of the sender, his hand froze on the steering wheel. Tuck Malloy? He almost went off the road into a ditch. How could that be? The old coot was dead. Wasn’t he?

  Tanner pulled over onto a wide spot, shifted into park, and stared at his phone. The message was definitely from Tuck. They had exchanged cell numbers months ago, and Tuck had occasionally texted to ask Tanner to pick up items he needed from the store. It hadn’t been a bother for Tanner. There was a mom-and-pop grocery not that far away, and Tuck’s house was on the road he always took back to town.

  He swiped the screen. A smile curved his lips as he read the message. “I fell off the damned porch. Busted my arm, some ribs, and had to get a hip replacement. Now I’m doing time in assisted living, and the bitch that runs the place won’t let me have my beer or chew. Can you buy me some of both and sneak it in to me? I’ll pay you back.”

  Tanner had been picturing the old fart in heaven, sitting on an Adirondack chair with a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a spittoon within easy reach. It was unsettling to think someone was dead and then receive a text from him.

  He tapped out a response. “I don’t mind bringing you things. My kids have activities this afternoon, so I’m not pressed for time. But I don’t want to get in trouble for delivering forbidden substances. My job could be on the line.”

  Tuck replied, “No trouble. Just put it inside a box and pretend it’s something I ordered. If I get caught, I’ll never tell who brought me the stuff. Sorry I can’t just call, but these nurses have sharp ears and I got no privacy.”

  Tanner grinned. He trusted the old man not to reveal his name if it came down to that. And he truly did sympathize with Tuck’s feelings of deprivation. Just because a man was eighty shouldn’t mean he no longer had a right to indulge his habits. Staying at an assisted living facility was costly, and in Tanner’s estimation, the residents should be able to do whatever they liked in their apartments as long as their physicians didn’t object.

  He texted, “Do you have your doctor’s permission to drink and chew?”

  Tuck replied, “Well, he ain’t said I shouldn’t. I been drinking and chewing my whole life. I’m eighty. What can he say, that my pleasures might kill me?”

  Tanner chuckled. He agreed to deliver the requested items and asked Tuck for the address. He was surprised to learn the facility was in Mystic Creek. Tanner didn’t cover that area, and it was a thirty-minute drive to get there. He mulled over the fact that he would be driving for more than an hour round-trip in a Courier Express van to run a personal errand. He’d also be using company fuel, which didn’t seem right, but he supposed he could top off the tank to make up for that. He could also adjust his time sheet so he wouldn’t be paid for an hour he hadn’t actually worked.

  Whistling tunelessly, Tanner made the drive to Mystic Creek. He hadn’t yet gotten over this way. The curvy two-lane highway offered beautiful scenery, tree-covered mountain peaks, craggy buttes, and silvery flashes of a river beyond the stands of ponderosa pine. To his surprise, he saw a turnoff to Crystal Falls—the actual waterfall, not the town—and he made a mental note to bring the kids up sometime to see it. They’d get a kick out of that. Maybe they could spread a blanket on the riverbank and have a picnic.

  Once in Mystic Creek, a quaint and well-kept little town, he found a grocery store on East Main called Flagg’s Market, where he purchased two six-packs of beer and a whole roll of Copenhagen for his elderly friend. In the van he always carried extra box flats. He assembled a medium-size one, stuck what he now thought of as the contraband into
it, and taped the flaps closed. With a ballpoint pen, he wrote Tuck’s full name, the address, and the apartment number on a Courier Express mailing slip, which he affixed to the cardboard. Done. Now he’d just drive to the facility and make the delivery. The rest would be up to Tuck.

  Mystic Creek Retirement Living was in a large brick building with two wings that angled out toward the front parking lot. The back of the facility bordered Mystic Creek, which bubbled and chattered cheerfully between banks lined with greenery, weeping willows, and pines. He suspected the residents spent a lot of time on the rear lawns, enjoying the sounds of rushing water and birdsong. If he were living there, that’s what he would do.

  Striding across the parking area with the box in his arms, Tanner began to feel nervous. What if someone questioned him? Pausing outside the double glass doors, he took a calming breath and then pushed inside. A middle-aged woman with red hair sat at the front desk. She fixed her friendly-looking blue gaze on Tanner’s face and smiled.

  “You’re new,” she observed. “Brian usually delivers our Courier Express packages.”

  Tanner nodded. “Uh, yeah. Just helping out today. I’ve got a package for Tucker Malloy, apartment twenty-three.”

  She pointed to a wide hallway to the left of the counter. “About halfway down on the right.”

  Tanner circled her workstation and moved past her. When he reached Tuck’s room, he knocked on the door and called, “Delivery. Courier Express.”

  He heard a shuffling sound, and seconds later, Tuck opened the door, flashing a broad grin. “Come in, come in,” he said in a booming voice. “Must be those shoes and pants I ordered.”

  Tanner winked at his old friend as he made his way through the doorway. As he set the box on the living room floor, he noticed that Tuck held a walking cane in his left hand. After closing the door, he walked with a limp as he crossed the tiny kitchen. Tanner guessed the old fellow’s hip still pained him. Otherwise he looked the same, tall and lean with slightly stooped shoulders. His blue eyes held the same merry twinkle. Deep smile creases bracketed his mouth. His hair, still thick, was mostly silver, but a few streaks of brown remained to indicate its original color.