Always on My Mind

by Susan May Warren

  His eyes widened, but he stepped in. She closed the door behind him.

  He whistled, raising an eyebrow at her attire. “Wow.”

  She smiled, an unfamiliar warmth syruping through her. Especially when he met her eyes, nothing of business in them.

  So maybe it was a hot date after all.

  Except she wasn’t quite ready for that, was she?

  “Where are we going?” She picked up her coat, and he reached for it, holding it open. Chivalrous.

  “To the best burger place in town. The VFW. Sorry, but it’s just the truth.”

  “That’s perfect.” She added a scarf and gloves, then stepped into her mukluks. “I’m not brave enough for dress shoes.”

  “Trust me, you chose wisely. I came from a meeting with a Realtor. He keeps me in the know about local estates that need attention. And he’s always trying to get me to sell the store.”

  “Really? You’re thinking of selling?”

  “We haven’t made a dime on that place in years. It’s my grandfather’s hobby, at best. I opened the store in Duluth three years ago, and it’s thriving. But this place . . . I’m thinking it’s time to cut our losses.” He reached for the door. “Ready?”

  She gripped the collar of her coat, braced herself, and nodded.

  The cold could peel the skin off her face. She hustled out to Monte’s truck, and the gallant man opened her door, touched her elbow as she climbed in. Then closed the door behind her and ran to his side.

  The cab held on to the slightest hint of warmth from his drive over. Still, she was shivering by the time they arrived at the VFW, only three blocks away. Cars jammed the parking lot and Monte pulled up to the door. “I’ll let you off here so you don’t have to walk.”

  Again, chivalrous. He helped her down and held the door open for her. She waited by the door, listening to the music from the band onstage.

  In her memory, she always pegged the local VFW as the place the rummies hung out. But not here. Pictures of servicemen lined the walls near the door along with a plaque with the engraved names of those who served. Patrons crowded every table, digging into baskets of fries and chicken fingers or burgers, and a few lumberjacks sat at the horseshoe bar. Neon bar lights, shaped in the names of breweries, lit an alcove where a group of enthusiasts jockeyed around a pool table.

  At the front, the band sang a Creedence cover. She recognized a couple of the band members—oh, wait: all of them.

  Claire and Jensen, Kyle and Emma. Her boat mates from last summer’s dragon boat festival.

  Shoot. Casper had mentioned the band was playing. He just neglected to mention where. She should probably leave—

  “Wow, it’s cold. I had to park two blocks away.” Monte came in, his cheeks red, a gust of frigid air in his wake. He surveyed the room. “Are there any open tables?”

  “I . . . I don’t see any.”

  “I’m sure we can find one.” He winked, then led the way into the room. She followed him, keeping her head down. Maybe, with luck, she could sneak in. Or better, maybe Casper had decided to hibernate.

  Monte found them a table next to the pinball machine and held out her chair as if they were at a five-star restaurant. He helped her off with her coat, then gestured to the menu, tucked in the condiment holder, before he took her coat to the rack by the door.

  She might have lost her appetite. Instead, she focused on the band. Noticed that Claire looked pregnant. Of course.

  Monte returned in a moment and sat across from her. “It really is worth it, I promise!” he said above the song.

  She smiled, nodded, hoping.

  Over his shoulder, she noticed others she recognized. Annalise and Nathan Decker sat with Noelle and Eli Hueston. Tucker Newman, the snowboarder, laughed with a group of friends at another table.

  She’d forgotten how small this town could be. Yeah, she’d definitely lost her appetite.

  “Hey, Monte, when did you get back?” Their server, a shapely blonde in her midtwenties, set down two glasses of water, a hint of intimacy in her smile.

  “Signe. Hi.” He shifted in his chair. “Just today.” He turned to Raina. “Raina, this is Signe Netterlund. Her family runs the local waste control—”

  “The dump, honey. We run the dump.” She winked at Raina. “Monte’s just being unusually tactful.”

  His mouth tightened around the edges. “Well, we junk collectors need to stick together.”

  Signe laughed, dropped a possessive hand on his shoulder. “What’ll ya have tonight? We have a spare rib special going on.”

  “Burgers. Two of them.” He glanced at Raina for confirmation. “Or . . . cheeseburgers?”

  “A burger is perfect. Medium rare.”

  “And a basket of fries to share?”

  “Comin’ right up.”

  As Signe headed off through the masses, Raina made the mistake of watching her go.

  Because the woman’s next stop was Casper Christiansen, sitting with a buddy, nursing a Coke, his head bobbing to the band. She put a hand on his arm, flirted with her smile, her posture, then laughed as she nodded and walked away.

  It would help if he didn’t look good. The embodiment of all Raina’s memories, wearing a red flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tanned forearms. Sprawled back in his chair, casual. He held a straw between his fingers, playing with it as he listened to the music. Comfortable.

  And not giving her one second of thought.

  When the Blue Monkeys finished their set, she watched as Casper clapped, then got up as if to leave.

  “Raina?”

  Monte turned to follow her gaze.

  Oops. “Great band, huh?”

  He turned back, still frowning, then took a sip of his water.

  She would not allow Casper’s memory to haunt her date. A hum of conversation settled over the room as the band exited the stage. “I finished the dining room and packed up all the china. I think there is a couple grand, at least, there. And today I found a collection of Hummels—just a few of them, but I know they’ll fetch a great price.”

  Monte played with his glass. Looked again over his shoulder. Back at her. “Who were you looking at?”

  Oh. Uh. “Casper Christiansen. He . . . I saw him at the historical society. He . . .” She scrambled for something. “We found a letter tucked into this book of poetry that I delivered to the society. Remember, you told me to box up everything—”

  “Right.” He leaned back. “So what did the letter say?”

  “It was from Thor, to his wife. Something he probably wrote on his deathbed. The usual—apologizing for mistakes, etc. But he mentioned a guy named Duncan, and Casper told me this story about a bootlegger—”

  “Duncan Rothe. I know the story. A bootlegger from Chicago. He came up here with some kind of fortune, only to vanish.”

  “Right.”

  He seemed to forget Casper now as he leaned forward, stirring his water with his straw. “It’s just a tall tale. My grandfather looked into it but could never find any evidence that it was true.” He looked at her. “Did you find anything else that might corroborate his story?”

  It touched her lips to tell him about the diary and Aggie’s mention of Duncan on the pages, but it felt like maybe Aggie’s thoughts should remain private.

  Or at least between Raina and Aggie.

  “No. But it does feel a little strange to go through her house. It’s like she’s speaking to me through her things. What she kept, how she cared for them.”

  “Raina! You’re back!” Claire’s voice parted the conversation, and Raina got up to intercept her hug. “You look great. Catering with Grace seems to agree with you.”

  Raina didn’t know what to make of that comment, except, okay, maybe she had been too skinny before. “Thanks?”

  “I wish I had your hair. It’s so full and gorgeous. I heard pregnancy is supposed to make your hair thick and shiny, but mine is still sad and thin.”

  Raina’s eyes widened. How�
��?

  “I have to know—what shampoo do you use?”

  Raina let out a shaky laugh. “Nothing special.”

  “Well, you look great, and . . . Oh, hi, Monte.” To Raina’s eye, it looked like Claire’s smile fell, but she recovered fast. “Nice to you see again.”

  Monte’s eyes, however, seemed cold. “Claire.”

  Claire squeezed Raina’s hand, shot another look at Monte, then said, “Call me if you want. I’ve missed you.”

  Raina nodded, warmed by Claire’s greeting, even if she’d seen a few heads in the crowd turn.

  She sat, glancing past Monte to Casper’s chair.

  He’d vanished, just as she’d hoped. Except she couldn’t deny the faintest twinge of disappointment. What, did she want him to see her out with another man? Stupid. Oh, so stupid, because she knew what happened when Casper got jealous.

  Another good reason to forget him.

  “What did Claire mean by ‘you’re back’?” Monte asked. “I thought you just moved here.”

  “I . . . I lived here last summer. But I moved to Minneapolis this past fall—worked as a caterer.”

  “Mmm,” he said, staring at his glass.

  She had the unsettling feeling that he thought she was lying.

  Signe showed up with the hamburgers and fries, and Raina’s appetite returned with ferocity. She cut the burger in half, dug in. “This is fantastic.”

  Monte smiled then, a twinkle again in his eyes. “I know, right? Stick with me, Raina. I’ll bring you to all the best places.”

  He winked, and suddenly the strangeness in his demeanor vanished. Perhaps she’d simply read into it—after all, she did have secrets to keep, and sometimes it felt like they sat right on top of her skin.

  The Blue Monkeys returned and played a set of oldies that had her singing along. She noticed Monte singing too, and at the break, he told her about crazy Nona Lillibridge, who insisted that she had ghosts living in her attic and had roped Gust into sitting up every night for a month to catch them.

  “I think she just had a thing for Grandpa, but he’s never gotten over losing Grandma. He’s very loyal that way.” Monte took a sip of his water, finishing it off. “We all are, actually.”

  He asked her to dance once and didn’t push when she turned him down. But later, as they left, he slipped his hand into hers.

  Raina let him because his hand was warm. At the door, he donned his gloves and ducked out into the icy blast to retrieve the truck.

  When he pulled up, he helped her into the cab and drove her home, walking her to the door.

  “Thanks for going out with me, Raina. Can I call you again?”

  See? Gallant. The perfect Valentine’s date. She nodded, and he left a kiss on her cheek.

  Raina pressed her hand against it as she watched him drive away. Now that was the kind of man a girl could fall in love with.

  And she hadn’t thought of Casper once.

  In at least an hour.

  Casper shouldn’t let it bother him.

  What was Raina doing with Monte Riggs? The sight of them dug a tunnel through him, and he’d had to leave after the Blue Monkeys’ second set. He’d heard Claire greet Raina—who hadn’t, really?—and Casper had to wince, just for a second, as he saw her glance at Claire’s belly. But . . .

  But yes, she seemed to be moving on, exactly like she’d stated at the historical society.

  Moving on with Monte Riggs.

  Casper had fumed in silent frustration in the shadows, watching them eat their hamburgers, watching her laugh at his jokes, and then left before he could call himself a stalker.

  He eased up on the gas around an icy corner, clamping a fist over his emotions. It shouldn’t bother him. Not with his anger over her recent choices. He should let her walk away before she did any more damage to his family.

  To him.

  Except . . .

  Monte Riggs.

  He pulled up to the lodge, let the fact that he had to hunt for a parking space cheer him. Maybe with the resort nearly full, Darek would stop grousing about the bills and how Casper left the lodge lights on.

  Still, the frigid cold burned his skin as he got out to run to the lodge, and by the time he stamped his feet off in the private entryway, the boil had returned to his chest.

  “Whoa, you sound like a herd of elk.” Darek emerged from the office area carrying a cup of coffee. “What’s with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He should have ordered food at the VFW because now his stomach clenched, empty and churning. Opening the fridge, he found leftover stir-fry Ivy had left for him—or probably Darek. He pulled out the container. “Do you mind—?”

  “Have at it. I’m going to eat with Ivy.”

  Casper glanced at the clock. “You should take off. The roads are getting icy.”

  “I still have one more check-in.” Darek slid onto a kitchen stool. “Then I’ll go.”

  Casper dumped the beef and pea pods with rice onto a dish and stuck it in the microwave. “I can check them in.”

  Darek’s silence dug into him, and Casper rounded on him. “Seriously? You don’t trust me enough to do check-in?”

  Darek shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just . . .” He sighed. “You wouldn’t get it.”

  “I wouldn’t get responsibility? Needing to stick around? Is that what you mean?”

  Darek held up a hand. “No. That’s not what I mean. It’s just, I’m worried, and it’ll make me feel better to know everything is okay. Listen, I’m counting on you to be here should there be any problems this weekend.”

  That tempered Casper’s heat. “Okay. Yeah. But you know, I can handle checking in guests. You can let go a little.”

  Darek stared at his coffee. “So can you.”

  Huh? Casper frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ivy saw Raina in town.” Darek looked up, met his eyes. “Please tell me that’s not why you returned to Deep Haven. Some sad attempt to win her back?”

  Casper’s mouth closed, his jaw tight. “No. I had no idea she’d returned. It was just a happy coincidence.”

  He turned back to the microwave, took out the food and stirred it, then stuck the dish inside and heated it again. He stared at himself in the reflection of the glass. “I saw her tonight, though.”

  “Go figure.”

  Casper turned and Darek held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just sayin’, you have angry ex written all over you. I’m seeing a flashback—”

  “Don’t go there, Darek. I very much regret the fight, okay? I agree I lost it, but if you knew all the details—”

  “I know Owen slept with the girl you had a thing for.”

  “Thanks. Thanks for that.” Casper opened the microwave.

  “If it were me, I might have beaten the tar out of him also. But then you walked away, Casper. And now you’re back, and so is she, and she’s clearly not out of your system.”

  Casper put the food on the counter, his appetite evaporating.

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You can’t let her go.”

  “I can let her go. I want to let her go, but she’s right here.” Casper pointed to his head. “And every time I think I’m past it, she shows up. With Monte Riggs.”

  “Huh?”

  Casper stirred the food, then set his fork down. “She went out with Monte tonight—for Valentine’s Day. She was at the VFW.”

  “And that’s a disaster because . . . ?”

  “Because she doesn’t know Monte like I do. Like most of us do. The guy’s a jerk. He always thought of himself as the world’s gift to women. He did a lot of locker room bragging.”

  “I sort of remember that.”

  “Well, Monte was not only arrogant, but he’s mean too. He once took a baseball bat to Rhino Johnson’s truck just because the guy parked in front of him.”

  “Rhino did have issues with parking—no wonder his truck looked so wrecked.”

  “Did you hear me? A ba
seball bat—”

  “Dude. We all did stupid things in high school. Doesn’t make us the same people today.” Darek raised an eyebrow. “You gotta stop acting as if she belongs to you.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Yes, you are. She’s not yours to control or judge.”

  Casper leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I can’t help but think that God put her in my life for a reason. If not, then why is it so hard for me to let her go?”

  “He probably did, but maybe not for the reason you’re hoping. The fact is, when God brings Christians into the lives of the hurting, it’s because He intends to use us to be truth and light to them. Not fix their problems but point them to the One who can.”

  Casper looked away. Yeah, he’d spent most of his summer trying to fix Raina’s deep wounds with no idea that his brother was the source.

  “If you really want to help her, maybe you should step back and just start praying for her. You’re a fixer—I know this—and I know that you want to push your way into her life, make sure she’s okay, but you can’t. If you have to be anything, be truth to her. Be patience. Be light. But let all this anger and darkness go.” Darek took a sip of coffee. “Trust me on this. Hanging on to the past will only eat you alive.”

  “So pray for her and then watch her destroy her life with Monte Riggs? Ouch. No, I’m not interested if that’s God’s plan.”

  “You seem to think that God owes you an explanation for what He does in people’s lives. You want to be involved, but only if you get to choose what happens. You don’t. God tells us to be light, but you can’t make her choose the right path. Nor should you.” He got up. “Because you’re not God.”

  Casper pursed his lips.

  Darek paused, considering him. “I think if Dad were here, he’d say something like, the thing about light is that it doesn’t come from us. It’s God in us that provides the light to the world. So if you want to be light to her, you’d better make sure that light is shining in you first.”

  Yeah, their dad would say that.

  The bell rang in the office.

  “Our guests have arrived. I’ll tuck them in, and then I’m going home to my beautiful wife to celebrate Valentine’s Day.”