Calytrix

by Chris Keniston

  Chapter Six

  “Well, top of the morning to you.” Katie O’Leary smiled at Callie from behind the counter of the One Stop.

  “And the rest of the day to you.” She just loved when she got the chance to reply to the traditional Irish greeting with the familiar response that Katie had taught all the Hart granddaughters and probably half the town too.

  “What brings you in to see me so early in the day?”

  “Luck of the Irish.” Claiming every tiny drop of Irish blood way back in her family tree was always fun when around Katie. “Lucy underestimated how many guests would want packed lunches of her corned beef on soda bread.”

  “So you volunteered to save the day.”

  Callie chuckled. “Something like that.” She wasn’t going to mention that she’d spent most of the night telling herself to stop thinking about tall handsome strangers and starry nights, and by morning the idea of a change of scenery sounded great. If her efforts were successful, she was fairly sure a nap was going to be on her afternoon schedule and all silly thoughts of nice mathematicians would dwindle away.

  The bell over the front door announced the next customer.

  Brows slightly arched, Katie dipped her chin and studied the front of the store through long, lush lashes. Ducking forward and whispering to Callie, she kept her gaze on whoever had come through the door. “Oh, some mornings does a woman’s heart good.”

  Callie casually twisted about, studying a display to her left and stealing a glance at whatever had Katie smiling a little brighter than usual. When her gaze landed on the strong legs in baggy running shorts, with a sweat drenched cut off t-shirt and broad muscles just large enough to spark interest but not so much as to imply a man obsessed with his gym membership, she knew there’d be no rest for the weary. Yes, siree, by the time her gaze settled on the chiseled chin and sky blue eyes, she knew exactly what had Katie grinning like a school girl. She also knew exactly why thoughts of her grandfather’s latest houseguest had kept her awake a good chunk of last night.

  Ear buds in place, it took Zane a few moments and a large fruit juice and bran muffin in each hand to notice both women were following his morning shopping spree. “Morning, ladies.”

  “Morning,” Callie muttered, followed by Katie’s usual “top of the morning to you.”

  “Lucy tells me that your bran muffins are a worthy reward after a morning run.”

  “That they are,” Katie agreed, her grin shifting from approval to pride. As good a baker as Lily was—and she was good—there were a few things she couldn’t hold a candle to. Katie’s soda bread and bran muffins were two of them. “You get in a good run, did you?”

  He nodded. “Usually run at the gym before work. Fresh air is a new concept to me.”

  “And how’d you like it?” Katie asked.

  Zane’s head bobbed. “I could get used to spending my mornings with Mother Nature.”

  Busily wrapping a couple of loaves of her famed soda bread, Katie continued to do that which she did best, engage with the tourists. “Will you be staying in Hart Land for long?”

  “At least till my grandfather comes in, next week.”

  “Ah. Good. Family is important.” Katie nodded, then turned to Callie. “Isn’t it?”

  “It is,” she confirmed, averting her gaze from the man only a few feet away from her.

  “And Miss Callie here should know. She’s one of nine first cousins. All of them close as peas in the proverbial pod. Their mothers too.” She turned to Callie. “Though if you ask me, Marissa and Rebecca don’t come to the lake often enough.”

  “And I’ll be sure to let them know you said so.” Callie smiled at the woman with the lovely hint of a lilting Irish accent.

  “You do that.” Katie handed Callie a brown shopping bag. “Is the team practicing today at Hart House again?”

  Callie shook her head. “They’re playing at the gym, and not until tomorrow. Today our star pitcher will be coming by after supper to get some more pointers from an expert.”

  “Yes, I heard about that. How magnificent that someone has stepped forward to do that for our Deidra.”

  “Not just somebody.” Callie waved a thumb over her shoulder where Zane stood studying the fresh baked goods that had been delivered from Lily’s Pastry Stop before the crack of dawn. “Him.”

  “Oh.” Katie looked him over from head to toe again. “So this is our math miracle worker.”

  Zane shook his head and stepped away from the display without having chosen one. “I don’t know about that. I think you folks are giving me way too much credit.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Katie said, her smile never slipping. “Will that be all?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Zane set his handful of items down on the counter and waited for Katie to finish the order for Hart House.

  “You planning on running back to the Hart’s or would you be needing a ride back with Callie? I have it on good authority that she’s going straight home with my Irish soda bread.”

  “I was thinking of sitting and resting for a bit at one of those tables outside. Enjoy the view and the muffin.” He looked around to Callie. “But if a ride back isn’t inconvenient, I’d be much obliged.”

  Callie swallowed hard. Somehow, she hadn’t expected the man under that mathematical mind to be quite so… manly. Suddenly the inside of her small vehicle didn’t feel like it would be big enough for both of them. And wasn’t she overreacting to a little show of muscles covered in manly sweat. She grabbed the bag Katie nudged her way with a smile and a wink. “Shall we be on our way?”

  Handing Katie a single bill, he shoved the change into this week’s collection jar and tipped his head. “All ready.”

  “Good.” Hurrying, she nearly stumbled when she reached the car and bumped into all that muscle. Even though she’d left the store first, his long strides had beaten her to the driver side, and now he held the door open for her. She took a deep breath. At least one of them was ready.

  ***

  “You look awfully pensive.” Fiona Hart ran her hand across the back of her husband’s shoulder. “I would think after the latest reports you’d be in a better mood.”

  “I am in a better mood.” At his desk, he’d been looking out at the Point, considering the history of Hart Land, and its future. Things were going well. He couldn’t be happier for his girls. The future of Hart Land would be safe in their hands and the men they’d chosen. So far.

  Both his dogs were faithfully at his side. More loyal companions a man couldn’t ask for. Nor a more beloved wife. He stopped petting the sweet golden retriever Lady to place his hand over Fiona’s. He didn’t know how he would have made it through all those years away from home without her to come back to. “Those people in the Birch cabin just had me a little distracted this morning, that’s all.”

  “Yes.” Fiona frowned. “I do hope their mother will be all right.”

  “It sounds like the fall wasn’t serious, but still, once you get to a certain age...”

  Fiona nodded. “I do wonder how we got to be so… seasoned.”

  Retired General Harold Hart chuckled. “Oh, my dear, I have been called many a thing in my career. Trust me when I say seasoned isn’t such a bad thing.”

  Leaning over, Fiona kissed the top of his head. “You may have a point. Any thoughts on what we’re going to do with the jet skis?”

  “Why,” Harold popped his eyes wide and twisted to face his wife, “I thought we’d take them for a spin?”

  Fiona barked out loud with laughter.

  He loved it when she did that.

  “You know,” she smiled down at him, “that would certainly give the Merry Widows something to talk about.”

  ***

  Good thing for Zane the drive from the One Stop to Hart House was a short one. He’d underestimated the added effort it took to jog up the mountain roads instead of along the level track at the gym in his office building. When Katie had suggested a ride back to Hart House
, his tired muscles all but rejoiced. Now that he was sitting in close quarters with Callie, it didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore. For one thing, sweaty and dirty wasn’t the best way to make a memorable impression on someone—at least not the good kind. And then there was the odd urge to reach out and run his fingers through the blonde locks she kept swinging in a ponytail. Not a good thing. The sort of thing that got a man thrown in jail. Not to mention the censure that would come down from their respective grandfathers. Nope. Keeping his hands to himself was a key goal at the moment.

  “Do you have plans for the rest of your day?” Callie asked, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.

  “Not really. I thought I’d do a little prep work for Deidra’s session today. See what sort of thing she’s needing for the ACTs.”

  “I actually have something for you on that. I, uh, had a little extra time last night so I dug up some of the reports on where the others tried to shore up her skills.”

  “Great. That will make things easier for me.” Though he wasn’t sure if easy was the right word exactly. He wasn’t really sure of anything. The first day the football example had been a fluke. He was good at math and knew the girl was good at sports—it seemed a practical fit. Last night he’d done more of the same, but wasn’t really sure how much would translate onto a test page that wasn’t presented in a sports format.

  “Anything I can do to help.” She smiled without facing him.

  “Thanks.”

  The car turned down the drive to the large Victorian and the same sense of calm that settled over him at his first glance of the breathtaking view descended on him once again. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected of a place that held appeal to retired seniors, but this wasn’t it. The views, the people, maybe the card playing all fit, but that was about it. There were more young people bobbing about than seniors. And he certainly hadn’t expected to be working with an attractive high school coach.

  “Oh, good.” Lucy sprang up from the garden bed in front, brushed her hands together, and then scurried to where Callie had parked. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d gone to Boston for the bread.”

  “I wasn’t gone that long,” Callie responded.

  “Maybe not. But you might as well come in for lunch. I’ll make everyone sandwiches and heat up some nice clam chowder too.”

  Zane took a step away from the car and lifted his hand to wave goodbye when Lucy tipped her head in his direction. “You too. There’s plenty.”

  “Oh,” he muttered. “I need to go wash up first.”

  “No need. The General needs some help from you anyhow, so you might as well just come on in.” Lucy marched up the stairs and into the house. She clearly didn’t expect an argument, nor did she expect anyone to disobey.

  “She does that a lot,” he mumbled.

  Callie had already started up the stairs. “What? Give orders or expect them followed?”

  “Both?”

  Callie smiled and nodded her head. “There are only two women in this world I know who can manage the General.”

  A smile tugged at his lips as he followed her up the stairs. “Let me guess. Mrs. Hart and Lucy.”

  “Give the man a prize. One for human nature and one for math.” Callie disappeared behind the slamming porch door.

  Dirty or not, it looked like he was joining the Harts for lunch. What would his grandfather have to say about that? You could take the old man out of the military but there was no getting the strict military rules for life out of the old man. He’d be apoplectic at Zane stomping through the house all sweaty from his run. He’d made it as far as the kitchen doorway when Callie came out. “Looks like Grams and the General are already seated in the dining room.”

  Oh man. Dirty and in the dining room. Crawling under a rock would feel really good about now. “Maybe I could just slip away a minute—”

  Callie raised her hand at him. “Don’t bother. You won’t be the first or last person to sit down to eat at the table after playing hard on the lake.”

  “Welcome,” the General bellowed from across the room. “Have a good morning, did you?”

  It took a second for Zane to realize the man was talking to him and not his granddaughter. “Yes. The scenery around here is stunning.”

  “Thank you.” The way the General responded, anyone would think he’d created the surroundings himself. “Hart Land has been in the family for more generations than I can count and despite progress around us, I’m proud to say things haven’t changed all that much.”

  “Dear, perhaps you should mention our little problem to him now.”

  “Yes, thank you.” The General handed Zane a tray of fresh raw veggies and dipping sauce. “We had a little incident this morning.”

  “Oh?” Callie’s voice held a hint of alarm as she scanned both her grandparents.

  “The couple staying in the Birch cottage got an urgent call from home. The wife’s mother fell and may have broken a hip,” the General explained.

  “Of course,” Mrs. Hart continued for him, “the family had to hurry right home.”

  “And they left the ski jets they rented parked by the Point.” Lucy set a cup of soup from a tray she balanced in front of him and moved along. “General here told them not to worry about returning them. Said he’d see to it.”

  Staring at the woman setting a cup of hot soup in front of him, a slight scowl barely formed between the General’s brows. “Yes.” His expression softened and he turned to face Zane. “That’s what happened. So now I have a dilemma.”

  One of the dogs left the General’s side and came to sit between Zane and Callie, putting its head on his lap.

  “Looks like you’ve found a friend in Lady.” Callie looked down at the dog.

  He ran his hand along the top of her head and could have sworn the dog thanked him with those big brown eyes before dragging her tongue along his hand in a long appreciative lick.

  “Actually, she’s doing my bidding for me.” The General smiled at the animal a few seats away. “Could we possibly trouble you to take one of them back for us?”

  “I’d be glad to, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I haven’t ridden a jet ski since college.” Zane continued to pet the sweet dog.

  “Oh, no worries there. It’s like riding a bike. You never forget.” The General shifted his gaze to Callie. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

  Soup spoon halfway to her mouth, Callie squinted at her grandfather before slowly nodding.

  “Excellent. Then it’s solved. You two will take the jet skis back, then call us to pick you up at the marina when you arrive.” Forgetting all about lunch, the General pushed to his feet. “There’s no hurry, take your time. Enjoy some time on the lake.”

  Stunned, Zane looked to Callie, her expression of surprise mirroring his. Swallowing, he picked up his spoon. “I hope he’s right about riding a bike.” If not, then we’re all in a lot of trouble.

  Chapter Seven

  If Callie thought Zane looked absolutely delicious in jogging shorts, then clad in a muscle hugging neoprene wetsuit, the guy was a worthy candidate for a Michelangelo statue.

  “I don’t seem to remember so much involved in riding last time I got on one of these.” Zane dangled a lanyard from one hand.

  “How long ago was that?”

  Studying the sky, he closed one eye, possibly counting backward, before dropping his gaze level with hers. “Let’s just say, longer than I had previously considered.”

  “Okay.” Callie didn’t get out on these things often, but living at the lake, she did occasionally spend a day on the water, and jet skis, like small boats, were part of that. “The shoes are so you don’t stub your toes or hurt your feet, the neoprene is so water doesn’t go places you don’t want it, the lanyard is so the engine cuts off if you fall off.”

  “I won’t fall off.”

  She dipped her chin to look over the rim of her sunglasses at him. “You said it had been a while since you’d ridden one?”


  “It has, but I won’t fall off.”

  Shoving her glasses up the bridge of her nose with one finger, she held back a sigh. “What did you say you did for a living?”

  “Data analysis specialist.”

  “You work with numbers all day?”

  He nodded.

  “Very well.” It shouldn’t have surprised her that a man this good looking and this smart had an ego to match. “Let’s say you’re not going to fall off, but humor me just the same. The lanyard attaches here. The greatest risk is usually collision so don’t try to ride too close to me.”

  He bobbed his head once, but said nothing as she carried on with her list of safety rules. As a matter of fact, a time or two she caught him scanning the distance and wondered if he was analyzing and calculating her limits or just bored and killing time.

  “Fortunately, this isn’t a busy craft lake. Most folks around here just like to hang out by their homes and occasionally take the kids out tubing or something. It’s not like some of the bigger lakes where folks are on the water all day partying on their boats.”

  “Got it.” His gaze drifted off again and this time she was pretty sure that mathematical mind was definitely calculating something.

  “Remember, these things have no brakes.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said that. Something in his gaze reminded her of one of her students before doing something only an immortal teen would think to do.

  He nodded and didn’t leave her feeling any more reassured than she’d been before issuing her warning.

  Glasses on, she turned the handle and eased away from the stone wall. Once she was sure that Zane had easily maneuvered onto the lake as well, she picked up the speed. The plan was to take it easy and enjoy the ride across the lake to the marina. Not far from the house, at a safe distance, a ski boat crossed their path and Callie found herself riding over the wake. She’d forgotten how much fun they used to have horsing around in the old days. Crisscrossing over each other’s wake and splashing water in their faces. All of a sudden, that all seemed so long ago. Remembering she wasn’t alone, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Zane had managed crossing the wake without issue.