A Last Resort

by Brenda Sinclair

  He smiled. Life couldn’t be better.

  He stretched his back and glanced around Mike’s workshop. He’d finished framing the four separate areas, including the small bathroom where the plumbing had already been roughed in; the space definitely had taken shape today. Emma’s hands were starting to heal, and he’d been making up for lost time the last couple days between typing sessions. During a video conference with Mike while in town yesterday, they discussed a couple of minor changes to the plans for the workshop, which Lyndon knew his client would love. Now, he could incorporate every detail Mike had approved. Lyndon tidied the work area and locked up.

  “Wonder what Em and Jake are up to?” he muttered aloud, removing his work boots at the back door.

  The cabin appeared as quiet as a church. Lyndon glanced at the antique clock in the kitchen. Four-thirty. Where the heck were they? Emma had mentioned walking out to the covered bridge this afternoon and doing a bit of work on her book. Despite wearing the little woolen gloves she’d bought in town, she’d managed some typing, albeit slowly. And she’d announced her intentions to again tackle cooking duties. The sun would go down soon and a brisk breeze had ruffled his hair on the way in from the garage. He hoped everything was all right. And if they’d wandered farther than usual, she’d hopefully taken along a flashlight.

  After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Lyndon returned to the kitchen. Neither Emma nor Jake had returned to the cabin. “Steak tonight. It appears I’m still in charge of the entire dinner.” He dragged the propane grill out of the corner on the patio and lit it. Thankfully, they still hadn’t any snow yet.

  Lyndon had thawed the steak overnight in the fridge, marinated it throughout the day, and now added spices. He discovered the container of store-bought potato salad Em bought yesterday and prepared a tossed salad from fixings he’d purchased after video chatting with Mike.

  Em and Jake still hadn’t returned.

  Could she have turned an ankle or taken a nasty fall while walking in the forest? If they didn’t show up by six, he’d go looking for them. On his way down the hallway to put the steaks on the grill, the back door flew open and Emma almost knocked him over in her haste.

  “Whoa. The place isn’t on fire,” he muttered, managing to recover his balance and not drop the platter of meat.

  “Do you know what time it is?” she exclaimed.

  “Probably close to five. Maybe a little after.” He stepped around her.

  “I lost all track of time and Jake…” She gaped at him. “What are you doing? Is that steak?”

  “Making supper. And yes. Real steak. From a steer kind of steak.” He continued out the door and placed the meat on the grill.

  When he returned inside, Emma remained standing in the hallway, appearing completely flabbergasted.

  “I decided to give you a break tonight and cook instead.” Lyndon continued through the cabin to the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

  “No, I don’t want a beer,” she blurted, following on his heels. “I intended to start cooking again tonight. I hope you don’t think I’m shirking my duties.”

  Lyndon burst into laughter. “Shirking? What the heck kind of word is shirking?”

  “Means I’m avoiding—”

  “I know what it means. You just never hear anyone actually using it.” Lyndon shrugged. “Of course, sometimes you authors use words the rest of us have never heard of.”

  Emma set her bag down on the island countertop and slumped onto one of the barstools. “I can’t believe I did this. The words were flowing and I never noticed it getting darker. I took my warmest jacket with me and I wasn’t cold. If Jake hadn’t started to whine, I’d probably still be out there.”

  “Creative juices flowing,” Lyndon observed. “Making up for lost time now that you’re back in action. And it’s all right. I don’t mind cooking tonight.”

  “Oh no! Jake was whining.” Emma leapt off her seat. “He wanted his supper. I’m so sorry—”

  “Hey, no harm done. He won’t starve to death if his dinner is a few minutes late.” Lyndon waved her back onto the stool. “I’ll feed him. No problem.”

  Emma collapsed onto the seat and heaved a sigh. “You’re being very understanding about this.”

  Lyndon chuckled. “One night early on here I ate dinner at ten. Ten. Got busy working on the garage and lost all track of time. You think Jake’s supper is late tonight…”

  “Poor baby,” Emma cooed, watching the dog inhale his kibble.

  “Jake has such a terrible Dad and Mom,” Lyndon teased the dog, patting his head.

  Emma gasped. “I am not his mom!”

  Lyndon met her eyes. “Well, you know that and I know that. But as far as Jake is concerned, we’re his family. Dad and Mom. He doesn’t understand that this is just two people sharing a cabin.”

  “He has become quite attached to both of us.”

  “Especially you, which is understandable. His first owner was a woman and she passed away suddenly. Her daughter lived in an apartment and couldn’t keep him, so he went up for adoption at the animal shelter.” Lyndon shook his head. “He was adopted by some guy who changed his mind and simply let Jake loose. The poor animal spent several months on the street before some good Samaritan brought him into the shelter again. The workers there recognized him immediately and thought they were seeing things when he showed up out of the blue. The shelter people intended to press charges against the man who adopted him. If they found him. Maybe he’d left the area.”

  “There should be some Canada-wide website where people like him are registered and never allowed to own or adopt an animal again.” Emma hugged Jake tightly.

  “Agree. Who knows? Maybe there is. Can you set the table while I go flip those steaks?” Lyndon set off down the hallway. “I didn’t see any of those chicken steak things you mentioned. Do you think you can choke down a real steak tonight?”

  Emma considered the idea for a moment and then shook her head. “I have leftovers from yesterday to use up.”

  “All right.” He’d tempt her with a small portion later.

  She flipped on the faucet to wash her hands, carefully removing her new little gloves.

  Lyndon paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Is it okay if we eat the potato salad you bought yesterday?”

  “Certainly. No sense keeping it until it spoils,” Emma called.

  Lyndon returned to the backyard to flip the steaks and realized he forgot to bring the barbecue sauce with him. He returned to the kitchen for it. “These steaks smell delicious,” he remarked on his way outside again.

  “Face it. Men love grilling.”

  He couldn’t argue the point. By the time he brought the steaks back inside a few minutes later, Emma had set the table and put out the salads as well. He noticed she’d heated the leftovers from the lentil entrée she’d ordered in town yesterday and placed the glass dish beside her plate. One of his beers sat by his plate and a glass of white wine occupied a spot beside her place setting. Two lit white tapers illuminated the dining room, providing an inviting glow throughout the room. “Those are a nice touch.”

  “Seemed fitting.” Emma seated herself. “Jake headed off to his bed without me even telling him.”

  “That’s my boy.” Lyndon took the chair at his usual place, opened his beer, and downed a couple mouthfuls. They’d fallen into quite the comfortable routine the past couple weeks. “Oh, man, that smells good. I’ll convert you for sure with this meal.”

  Emma chuckled. “Dream on.”

  “Come on… one… little… bite?” He peeked up at her, hoping for a passable imitation of Jake’s puppy-dog-eyes expression. He picked up his steak knife and cut a small portion from his steak, the movement slow and sexy. At least, that’s what he hoped. And wasn’t that what her hero would do to entice and seduce the heroine in her book? He resisted the urge to shake his head at the absurdity of the thought. He had no intention of seducing her. But he’d started this, he’d best see it throug
h.

  He extended the tempting morsel and slowly waved his fork in front of her, hoping the delectable aroma would weaken her resolve. “Mmm… mmm,” he murmured, smiling. “Please?”

  She shook her head.

  “One little bitty bite.” He looked deep into her eyes, attempting what he hoped would resemble a come-on-just-for-me-baby plea, at the same time fearing he looked and sounded ridiculous.

  “One piece of tempting steak won’t alter my vegetarian convictions.”

  “You know I’d never make you do something you didn’t want to...” He left the old cliché line hanging, slowly waving the fork under her nose again. For crying out loud, he couldn’t figure women out. That steak cost him an arm and a leg and he’d cooked it to perfection.

  He watched her swallow, eyes fixed on the tempting morsel. He held it an inch away from her. She opened her mouth and slowly licked her lips. He swallowed hard as he slipped the tidbit into her mouth. She chewed, looking intently into his eyes the entire time. Man, the woman oozed sexiness from every pore. Let’s do that again, his brain cried as the hand holding the steak knife twitched. She swallowed the well-chewed portion. Emma was beautiful and sensual and he dearly wished she’d let him explore her mouth like that morsel of steak had.

  He shook himself out of his fantasy. “So, what do you think? Pretty good, right?”

  She reared back in the chair, as if she just realized she’d actually consumed it. She nodded, reluctantly, and offered a small smile. “Just don’t tell my personal trainer at the gym.”

  “What’s the guy’s number?” Lyndon dug his phone out of his pocket and opened it to the keypad. He needed to get those luscious lips and that tempting mouth off his mind. “Oh crap. I forgot we have no cell service here. Lucky break for you. That little carnivore digression will remain a secret with me.”

  Emma burst into laughter. “Finally, one advantage to this remoteness.”

  “Well, there were other benefits before.” Lyndon grinned. “No eating dinner in my boxers anymore, now that you’re here.”

  Emma choked on her wine.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded without meeting his eyes. He hadn’t any idea what all that coughing and spluttering was about. Perhaps he’d embarrassed her, mentioning his underwear. He recalled the day she stood in the kitchen in her bra and panties, and the late night she’d found him making a sandwich in his boxers. Perhaps she was visualizing him in them again. Some romance author if that was all it took to shock her.

  Part of his preconceived ideas about romance writers was the spicy content of their books. Maybe he’d been mistaken. She hadn’t dictated anything too hot while he’d been helping her with typing. Maybe she’d avoided those passages on purpose. Or she wrote seductive but less explicit stuff. He’d noticed at least a dozen Emma Storre novels on Rachael’s bookshelf in the family room. Maybe he should actually read one of them.

  “I’m happy you tried that one bite. I didn’t think you’d do it.”

  Emma’s mouth dropped open. “So you insisted I try your steak because you changed your mind about eating my yogurt?”

  Lyndon frowned. “I haven’t eaten any of your yogurt. Except those couple mouthfuls you gave me awhile ago.”

  “Well, two individual servings are missing from the fridge. A couple apples out of the bowl on the counter also and three of my granola bars from the pantry.” Emma glanced about and whispered, “Do we have a hungry ghost?”

  He chuckled. “I’m not totally convinced of that ghost stuff.” Now that he’d sold his construction company which contracted renovations on several historic homes, he could admit such a thing. At least, in the privacy of this cabin where neither Emma nor Jake would tell on him.

  “Then you must be the guilty party.”

  “Sorry to disappoint. Wasn’t me.”

  Emma slumped in her chair. “You’re serious.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then what the heck is going on?”

  He shrugged. “All that stuff is actually missing?”

  “Yes, it is.” She leaned forward and placed her arms on the table. “Do you suppose there are kids staying in another cabin? Sneaking in here for snacks when we’re not looking?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t remember if I locked the cabin yesterday before we went to Maskosis. But I’m going to find out if we have a thief.”

  “How do you plan to do that?” she inquired, peeking across the table at him, wiping her mouth on the napkin.

  He swallowed hard, imagining the feel of that luscious-looking mouth on his. “Right. I’ll… I’ll set up a camera in the kitchen. See what’s going on.” Lyndon shrugged. “Some people on the internet have posted videos of bears and racoons visiting their cabins and stealing food. I can’t imagine that’s the case here or we would have found the kitchen trashed. But something is going on.”

  “So, a camera.” Emma waved her fork in his direction. “Thank you for the warning. No wearing my pjs in the kitchen if there are cameras around.”

  “Or lacy black underthings.” Lyndon chuckled when her face reddened in an instant.

  She’d looked pretty cute in that animal print thing she was wearing the first morning after she arrived. With her toes painted a lovely shade of pink. And she’d worn outfits resembling pajamas or yoga pants and sloppy loose-fitting tops several days since. Leaving his imagination to run wild, thinking about her body underneath all that material. He needed to change his line of thinking or he’d be seated here all night, avoiding standing up and giving himself away. Emma Sullivan had definitely caught his attention. All of his attention, and his affection for her grew deeper every day.

  Emma rose from her chair. “Well, I’m turning in early to read in bed and then lights out by ten.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I intended to start a new book myself.” Lyndon grinned, knowing she had no idea he planned to read one of hers. He needed to discover the reason for all the to-do about romance books. Since he’d recently become quite fond of this particular romance author.

  Chapter 11

  Emma stared at Lyndon’s laptop sitting on the family room coffee table. He’d only set up the cameras yesterday. “See that?” he said, pointing at the screen.

  “The nerve of the guy,” she exclaimed.

  An obviously young kid wearing an oversized black hoodie had snuck into the cabin when they’d gone for a walk to their favorite waterfall this afternoon. They’d deliberately left the door unlocked, hoping to lure their thief out of hiding. And it had worked. The guy was loading up on granola bars and several juice boxes. He even helped himself to some apples and an orange from the fruit basket on the island countertop again. Unfortunately, they couldn’t see his face since he never looked up, decidedly intent on finding what he wanted and then dashing outside a couple minutes later.

  “It has to be one of the kids from a nearby cabin. If he arrived by car, we’d see tire tracks. Or maybe someone from the resort who walked up here or rented one of the bikes. I don’t recall Dad mentioning anyone that age staying there now,” Lyndon speculated. “And the rental bikes are usually cleaned and in storage by now.”

  “People are still camping this close to winter?” Emma met his eyes.

  Lyndon nodded. “Some folks like hiking all season. And once the snow accumulates, there’ll be lots of folks renting cabins at the resort and cross-country skiing during the winter. Cabin owners come up for weekends and lots of folks spend Christmas up here with their families.”

  Emma shook her head. “I hate dashing from my car to the Calgary C-train station on a cold winter day. No way you’d catch me cross-country skiing.”

  “You’re such a girl,” Lyndon teased, jabbing her in the ribs with his elbow.

  “Yes, I am. And I won’t apologize,” she said, elbowing him back.

  Lyndon shut off his computer. “So, what are we going to do about this guy?”

  “I don’t know.” Emma shrugged. “Report him to the local pol
ice?”

  “Not much choice. If he’s breaking into this place, he could be robbing other cabin owners also. What if someone confronts him and the kid has a knife or a gun?” Lyndon leaned back on the sofa, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Okay, I love my crime shows and I might be way off base here, suspecting the kid would be armed. But I’m not ruling out any possibilities. I won’t take chances with you or Jake happening upon this kid when I’m not around.”

  “I suppose he might be armed, but maybe he’s a runaway teen. Something about him makes me think he’s not dangerous.” Emma shook her head. “Or maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know.”

  She sympathized with teens who found themselves with no other choice available but running. Even though the streets were so dangerous. Mind you, some homes weren’t any safer. Perhaps even less so. Drunken fathers. Abusive family members or supposed family friends. Uncles who sexually assaulted their nieces or nephews. Homes with no food in the fridge and bare cupboards if the parents preferred buying booze or drugs. Not much incentive to remain with family. And a problem with school bullies existed for many kids. So many issues faced by some children these days. She couldn’t imagine their anguish.

  She’d grown up with a lovely family in a safe and happy home. Well cared for and loved. Always loved. As an only child, she would have given an eyetooth for a sibling, but it never happened. And then her parents died so young. Her mother of Alzheimer’s last year and her father of cancer a few years earlier. Now, completely alone in the world, she understood loneliness all too well. She should volunteer at a youth center or offer to coach teens preparing for a career in writing. She’d look into something similar when she returned home to Calgary. Unless… she and Lyndon found their friendship turning into something more.