A Last Resort

Home > Romance > A Last Resort > Page 4
A Last Resort Page 4

by Brenda Sinclair


  They’d discovered so many things about each other, even during the short time they’d been sharing the same space. The two of them held very differing opinions on a number of topics. And their taste in television couldn’t sit at more opposite ends of the entertainment spectrum: hers entrenched in girl movies and one favorite soap opera, and his being sports, sports, and more sports. The woman hadn’t even heard of NASCAR and thought it had something to do with space travel. He explained the difference between NASA and NASCAR. Of course, he had no idea who Victor Newman was either.

  Despite their differences, they’d managed to coexist in peaceful harmony, without any arguments since their initial disagreement over sharing the cabin. Which had been easily enough resolved after a bit of introspection on the situation and calm heads prevailed. This arrangement worked out well for both of them, convenience being the key issue. Neither of them relished the idea of arranging accommodations in the Town of Maskosis and then commuting for forty-five minutes every day, including driving up the mountain road. Which Emma mentioned was less preferable to cleaning bathrooms. He begged to differ there.

  He’d learned she wrote romance novels. Certainly not his reading preference. But she hadn’t sounded disappointed when he admitted he hadn’t read any of her books. Alternately, she hadn’t requested a tour of the garage either. He considered this project remarkable, but she couldn’t seem less interested. Regardless, they hadn’t discovered a single aspect of this entire arrangement they couldn’t work around. At least, not yet. Whether food or music or television and movies, or even cooking, they carried on about their own business and didn’t interfere in each other’s lives. Dinner together every evening being the sole exception. Suited him fine.

  If only she wasn’t so darn attractive!

  He needed to remember to wear his robe when raiding the fridge at midnight, making a late night snack. She’d surprised him the other night, caught him off guard wearing nothing but his boxers. She’d taken his half-naked state in stride. Since then, he couldn’t count the number of times throughout each day images of the pretty author popped into his mind. Sitting on a barstool at the island, she’d be drinking her morning coffee when he popped into the cabin to fetch a bottle of water or grab a tool or something. And that beautiful smile of hers could melt that ugly blue paint off his granny’s rocking chair at his parents’ house. A chore he’d been avoiding for years, but wanting badly to restore the antique to its original lustrous varnished glory. He’d love nothing better than to run his fingers through Emma’s reddish auburn locks, certain they’d be equally soft as they were lustrous and shiny and…

  Lyndon shook his head. Enough. He needed his mind solely on his work. Distractions caused accidents on worksites, and he couldn’t afford missed workdays due to an injury. Not if he intended to complete this project on his own self-imposed deadline.

  Habits and quirks had been reviewed and plans decided upon to work around them. Rules had been established. Routines laid out. They’d agreed to do their own thing and stay out of each other’s way. Nothing but pleasant times ahead for the duration they both remained here.

  What could be simpler?

  If only she wasn’t so darn attractive!

  Chapter 5

  Next day, Emma closed her laptop and gazed at her surroundings. She always wrote in the huge family room when at the cabin. The inviting space featured a real woodstove built into a wall of bookcases, the lower cabinets hiding wood storage. More books than you could count occupied the top shelves. A wall of framed photos covered one wall with upholstered cream-colored chairs in twin seating areas below. Another wall featured a large screen television and media players atop the cabinet holding dozens of CDs and DVDs.

  She slumped against the back of one of the matching leather sofas which stood across from each other on a geometric beige and gray area rug covering a portion of the dark-stained hardwood floors. She reached for her coffee mug on the novelty coffee table, fashioned from a lacquered trio of small conjoined tree stumps covered with a thick pane of glass, positioned atop the rug. She sipped her coffee, treasuring memories of so many incredible parties here with Mike and Rachael and their guests, as well as quiet movie nights with only her and Rachael. This room had always been her favorite.

  This morning, she’d even gotten dressed in yoga pants and a warm woolen tunic in hopes that casual, comfortable clothing instead of pjs helped her productivity. No such luck. Jake slept at her side, curled up on a fluffy plush blanket that had become his favorite spot in the cabin. The dog preferred keeping her company and Emma heard the annoying buzz of the table saw situated on the paved driveway outside the window. She tuned out the noise most days, but it provided a definite unrelenting distraction today. Despite her hopes for a productive day of writing, she hadn’t made any significant progress since Lyndon departed for work following lunch almost two hours ago.

  After a week at the cabin, she had to admit this book was driving her crazy. She’d figured out the issues with the hero and felt she’d made headway with the heroine. Now the dreaded saggy middle haunted her, and she hadn’t a clue how to resolve it. She’d decided on the mystery identity of the character surrounding the subplot, but even that hadn’t helped. Maybe she should simply click SELECT ALL and then DELETE. That would remedy her problems in a second.

  “Yeah, right. Rachael would have your head on a platter,” she warned herself, finishing her coffee. Besides, several times every day she stored a copy of the manuscript in a cloud where it would be easily retrieved. There’d be no avoiding this book.

  Emma crawled off the sofa and wandered out to the kitchen. She needed a stiff drink, but she’d settle for another cup of coffee. She jammed a caramel-flavored pod into the coffee maker, pushed the button to start the brewing, and then gazed out the kitchen window while she waited. Spying the bright blue sky surprised her since low-hanging gray clouds had welcomed her first thing this morning.

  She removed the mug from the tray, added flavored creamer in lieu of Baileys, and wandered back to the family room. She needed to work her way through the problems in this book. Hoping for a moment of clarity, she slipped her earbuds into her ears and turned on her pocket media player. Listening to classical music usually assisted her in relaxing when solving plotting and characterization issues.

  Emma closed her eyes and stood beside the wall of floor-to-ceiling bookcases, allowing the soft strands of a lullaby to wash over her. The book required a surprise element to retain and possibly reignite reader interest in the middle. Something unexpected to draw the reader deeper into the heroine’s issues while assisting the hero in finding his birth father. She sipped her coffee and daydreamed about the heroine being lost in the mansion where the hero had visited his grandparents every summer as a child. Perhaps she could use the building which had long since fallen into disrepair in some way, showing a similarity between the mansion’s poor condition and the hero’s life which had plummeted into disorder, bordering on despair. The hero and heroine needed each other to solve the birth parent issue while drawing the two leads closer together as a couple, eventually resulting in that happily-ever-after ending required of every romance novel.

  She opened her eyes and turned around to discover Lyndon standing in the doorway. Her heart almost stopped and she fumbled the empty coffee cup in her hands as a squeak escaped her lips. She yanked the earbuds out of her ears. “You nearly scared me to death,” she grumbled and strode toward the doorway, pushing him aside as she returned to the kitchen. “What are doing in here anyway?”

  “I’m sorry. I forgot some papers on the dining room table,” he muttered, following her.

  “Then why aren’t you in the dining room?”

  “It’s gorgeous weather outside. I called out, asking if you wanted to grill something for dinner tonight. You never replied so I decided to investigate, in case something was wrong.” He grinned. “About the time I realized why you didn’t hear me, you turned around. Again, sorry I frightened you.�
��

  “Apology accepted, I guess.”

  “Come on. You know Jake would have raised a ruckus if some strange man walked in here. He would have protected you.” Lyndon shook his head. “Sometimes I worry that dog loves you more than me.” Hearing his name, Jake wandered into the kitchen.

  “Well, maybe equally.” Emma smiled, patting the dog’s head. “Besides, it really wasn’t your fault. I’m having issues with this darn book and I was distracted.”

  “Again?”

  “Yes. Saggy middle.”

  Lyndon chuckled and polished off his bottle of water. “I assume that’s a real thing in writing. And not a reason to visit the gym.”

  “Maybe I should try something different,” she muttered, refusing to acknowledge his joke. She changed out the old pod for another and made herself a third cup of coffee. “Is it really nice outside?”

  “Been working in my shirt sleeves all morning.” He tossed the plastic bottle into the recycle bin in the pantry.

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” Emma surprised herself with the question. But she couldn’t back down now that she’d thrown out the idea. “I require a break from my writing and a change of scenery couldn’t hurt.”

  Lyndon sighed. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “I could show you the neat little waterfall I discovered when I was looking for a new spot to write.” She sipped the coffee. “It’s a pleasant walking distance away.”

  “All right. I could also use a break from work, I suppose.” He headed to the back door. “Let me get my hiking boots on and I’ll be ready to go.”

  Emma poured the coffee into a to-go mug and donned her own hiking boots having learned sneakers were mostly useless on slippery forest paths. She reached for her oversized tan hoodie and followed Lyndon out the back door.

  “This is a great idea. It’s going to snow one of these days, so we’d best enjoy the outdoors now.” Lyndon donned the jacket he’d grabbed on the way out. “Come here, Jake!” he called the dog.

  Emma set her mug down on a stone paver and zipped up her warm hoodie, knowing the temperature remained lower in the thick forested area surrounding the property. “Don’t mention snow. I’m not a fan of winter and cold temperatures.” She picked up her mug again as Jake bounded out of the bushes and raced up to them.

  “Let’s go for a walk, boy.” Lyndon waved Emma ahead of him. “Lead the way.”

  Emma chuckled as she carefully picked her way along the uneven ground. “Don’t know where you’re going? Or are you checking me out from behind?”

  Lyndon burst into laughter. “Now that you mention it…”

  Emma stopped in her tracks and waited for him to catch up. She appreciated his interest in her rear view; all those hours in rumba class proved worth it. But she couldn’t carry on a conversation with him unless they walked side by side, and she wanted them to become better acquainted. “Forget it, Reynolds. We’re walking together.”

  “The view was lovely, spoilsport. This waterfall had better be spectacular,” he complained as Jake trotted along beside them.

  “I think it is,” she countered. “Of course, I love all waterfalls.”

  The two of them walked for twenty minutes, conversing on a dozen different topics while Jake occasionally scooted off to investigate something of interest. Soon he’d return and continue along with them.

  Lyndon dug a tennis ball out of his pocket. “Here, Jake. Fetch,” he shouted and tossed the ball several feet ahead on the dirt trodden path. Jake raced off in pursuit of his favorite toy.

  Five minutes later, Emma pointed. “There it is. I almost missed it but I heard a bird calling and looked around to spot him but noticed this instead.” The falls weren’t wide but the steady stream of water pounded down from the ragged rockface at least thirty feet in height. Icy water collected in a small pool at the base and then trickled along the creek bed before eventually disappearing into the forest on their left.

  “I’ve lived in this area for decades and I’ve never seen this before.” Lyndon grinned. Jake returned with the ball and Lyndon tossed it for him again. “Nice find. I wonder if Mike and Rachael know it’s here?”

  “They’ve never mentioned it, and Rachael and I walk every day whenever I’m here. Except in winter, of course. We haven’t come this way before, so maybe they intended to keep it to themselves.”

  “Or they haven’t found it either,” he surmised, tossing the tennis ball yet again.

  “It’s so peaceful here.” Emma seated herself on an enormous flat rock and gazed at the falling water, the calming, restful sound of the falls relaxing her entire body. She heaved a sigh. Jake returned and jumped up beside her. She hugged him and smiled. “Is it my turn to throw that?” She tossed the ball and Jake rocketed off the boulder. Emma glanced at Lyndon. “Just listen to the silence.”

  “Is that a dig at me and all the noise I make?”

  “There is that. But no, I wasn’t complaining. You’re only working the job you were hired to do.” Emma leaned back, supporting herself with splayed hands behind her back. “I sat right here for two hours writing the other day, and the time flew by.”

  Lyndon settled beside her. “I can understand the attraction in writing outdoors, away from all the work uproar.”

  “Sometimes I settle into that easy chair in the family room, don my headphones, and listen to classical music. That’s equally relaxing and it drowns out your mayhem.” Emma pushed against his arm playfully. “Jake finds it relaxing, too, if I play the music so he can hear also.”

  Jake returned and hopped up beside them. Lyndon gently tugged one of the dog’s ears. “You don’t like my country music? I play the old stuff especially for you.”

  Jake woofed.

  “Thank you, I knew you appreciated it.”

  Emma scoffed. “I definitely wear my headphones when you crank it up. Not my genre.”

  “To each his own. Or her own.” He corrected himself before she could complain.

  Emma sighed, feeling like half of an old married couple. Maybe another relationship wouldn’t be so bad, after all. If Lyndon were the other party. “Do you think our arrangement is working out?” The question escaped her before she realized she’d even been thinking such a thing.

  “I guess so.” Lyndon met her eyes. “What are your thoughts?”

  She nodded. “No complaints here. Except for that country music racket, nothing you do annoys me.”

  “At first I found the tapping of laptop keys a bit disconcerting when I was trying to read after dinner. But I’m accustomed to it now and never notice. Other than that… I’d say we’re doing all right.” He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Emma’s breath caught when he trailed his hand down her cheek.

  “Your skin is so soft,” he murmured.

  She wondered if he intended to voice the thought aloud. “Thank you,” she whispered, gazing into his stunning blue eyes. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. He’d excel as a poker player; nothing in his gaze or anything about his expression provided her with a single clue to his thoughts.

  Jake whined and jumped down from the rock.

  “What’s wrong?” Lyndon looked around the ground. “Where’s your ball?”

  “He didn’t bring it back last time.” Emma hopped down. “Maybe he can’t find it?”

  Lyndon clambered to his feet. “All right, we’ll help you look.”

  Emma jogged up the path and entered the wooded area where she noticed the ball had gone. Jake raced after her while Lyndon remained on the path.

  “See it yet? Or should I help search?”

  Emma staggered out of the trees, waving the ball. “Found it. Hidden in a dip in the ground. I almost walked on top of it.” She caught Jake’s eye and noticed the dog’s body quivering in anticipation, hoping she’d throw his toy again. Emma launched it into the air and Jake took off like a shot. “He sure loves playing fetch.”

  “Your arm will fall off before
he’ll tire of it.” Lyndon stuck his hands in his pockets. “We should head back. It’s well after four o’clock and darkness falls quickly as soon as the sun dips behind the mountains.”

  “You’re right. But thanks for coming with me.” Emma brushed off her hands. Jake returned, ball in mouth, and pranced in circles, obviously eager to continue this adventure with them.

  “Watch it. This section of the path is slippery.”

  “Thank you for the reminder.” She tossed the ball one last time. Lyndon was right about her arm falling off. When Jake returned, she stuffed the ball into her hoodie pocket.

  They continued back toward the cabin, each lost in their own thoughts. Emma sighed heavily, recalling the thrill through her entire body when he’d touched her face, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in ages. She couldn’t be more relaxed.

  Was it the handsome man or this tranquil location? She loved it here and wished she could afford a piece of property nearby her editor. Working from home, except when out doing promo gigs, she could work in Calgary, or here, or Timbuktu if she wanted. As long as there was access to the internet, at least some of the time. A place to escape like this seemed nothing more than wishful thinking unless her career really took off. At present, Nora needn’t worry.

  “I’ve really enjoyed this,” Lyndon commented, when they reached the back patio.

  She looked up at him. “Me, too.”

  “I’ll go lock up the garage and my tools and everything. I’m shutting down early today.”

  “I’ll start dinner. We might as well eat a little sooner than normal.” Emma opened one of the double patio doors and stepped inside. “I’m thinking I’ll make pasta tonight.”

  “Works for me.” Lyndon grinned “Make lots. I’m famished after all this outdoor air.”

  She chuckled. “Good for what ails you.”

  “Will it help with the writing?”

  Emma realized she hadn’t thought about her book for a single minute she’d spent with him. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll see after dinner. Maybe it might. Fresh eyes and a renewed vigor.”

 

‹ Prev