by Gina Wilkins
His cousin Dawne had actually warned him that he was headed for a crisis a year ago, when it had appeared to everyone else—and to him, for that matter—that he was leading a charmed life. She’d seen something in his stars that had told her he had some serious choices to make, and that the outcome of those choices could lead either to a lifetime of contentment or one of quiet despair.
He’d almost forgotten that conversation until now. Maybe he should call Dawne tomorrow and ask if her star charts had any useful advice for him now that he’d actually reached the crossroads he’d been warned about.
Natalie seemed to have no interest in discussing astrology. “Can I get you any more coffee?”
“No, thanks. I guess I’d better be leaving if I’m going to get more done tonight.”
She put her cup on the tray. “Just set your dishes on the tray,” she said, motioning toward the coffee cup he’d just drained. “I’ll take care of them.”
Somewhat reluctantly, he stood. “Thanks for the meal, Natalie. It was really good.”
She walked with him toward the door. “It was nice having the company.” She sounded as if she really meant it.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow then. I should be around sometime late morning to waterproof the deck.”
“I won’t be here much tomorrow. I promised Aunt Jewel I’d join them for church in the morning and then for Sunday lunch. Do you have a key if you need to get into the cabin while I’m gone?”
He told himself there was no reason for him to be disappointed that she had other plans. He wasn’t coming back for social reasons, but to work. He probably wouldn’t have seen her much, anyway. “I’ll bring Kyle’s key, but I’m planning on just working outside tomorrow.”
“Yes, well, feel free to come in if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” He stepped out onto the porch, then hesitated. Turning, he said, “Hey, Natalie?”
She paused in the act of closing the door behind him. “Yes?”
“Maybe I could return the favor sometime. Treat you to dinner, I mean.” Not exactly a smooth invitation, he thought with a slight wince. “There’s a really nice steak-and-seafood place in town. I’ve been told the trout there is the best. Maybe we could try it out one night this week?”
He could almost see the debate going on inside her head. She looked tempted…but a little nervous about accepting. What was it about him that would make her nervous?
“Maybe,” she said after a moment. “If there’s time.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant, but at least it wasn’t an outright rejection. “Okay. We’ll talk about it later then.”
She moved back a step into the cabin. “Good night, Casey.”
“Goo—”
But she had already closed the door between them.
Casey’s truck was in the driveway when Natalie returned to the cabin after visiting her aunt and uncle for most of Sunday afternoon. The fact that her heart started beating a little faster at the thought of seeing him again made her pause behind the wheel.She winced as she remembered her reaction when he’d asked her out. Even though he’d framed the invitation as a way of repaying her for the dinner, it had been clear that what he’d suggested was a date. She’d been so disconcerted that she’d all but shut the door in his face. It wasn’t like her to be so flustered by a simple dinner invitation.
The truth was, Casey Walker made her nervous. And while she’d told herself that it was nice to have such an attractive diversion from her current problems, she wondered if it would be a mistake to get involved—even temporarily—with a good-looking, younger man who obviously harbored secrets of his own.
She really should be focusing more intently on her problems at home, she chided herself. She didn’t have time for a dalliance. But Casey was pure temptation in blue jeans and a tool belt. Would there really be any harm in flirting with him a bit while Beecham conducted her investigation?
Carrying the bag of leftovers her aunt had insisted on sending with her, she entered through the front door and went straight to the kitchen to put the food away. She debated whether she should go out to greet Casey. It wasn’t as if he was there for a social reason. He was working, and she didn’t want to interfere with that process.
Coward.
She slammed the refrigerator door shut, annoyed with that nagging little voice in her head and with herself for acting so foolishly. And then she cursed herself again when someone knocked loudly on the front door and she almost jumped out of her shoes.
Sighing in exasperation, she walked through the living room to open the front door with a smile. “Hello, Casey.”
He nodded, looking a little distracted. He wore a denim shirt, blue plaid flannel jacket and jeans, all of which showed evidence that he’d been doing rather dirty manual labor that day. “Hi. Listen, that dog’s hovering around again. I think maybe he came back for another meal. Do you have anything?”
“I just brought home enough leftover pot roast for a whole pack of dogs. I’ll get him some, and a bowl of water.”
“I’ll come in and help you carry it out. We can’t walk on the deck because the sealant is still drying.”
“All right.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “Did you have a nice visit with your aunt and uncle?”
She answered as she refilled the plastic bowl she’d used the day before with fresh water. “Yes, I did. Very nice.”
Handing him the water, she opened the fridge and pulled out the plate of leftover roast. “Did you have any problems sealing the deck?” she asked to keep the small talk going.
“No. I used Kyle’s sprayer and everything worked fine.”
“Good. So I should be able to walk on it tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Give it twenty-four hours or so and it should be good to go.”
She warmed the meat just to room temperature, only a few seconds. She didn’t want the hungry dog to burn its mouth. “Okay,” she said, taking the plate from the microwave. “Let’s go see if he’s still there.”
“I have a feeling he will be,” Casey replied, letting her precede him. “He looked pretty hungry. And hopeful.”
“Should we call animal control while it’s here?”
Casey hesitated. “Give me a couple of days to see if I can make friends with him first. Maybe Kyle will know someone who’d give the dog a home if we can get it to trust us.”
Natalie was still wearing the clothes she had donned for church that morning, a black waist-length jacket buttoned over a lace-trimmed green cami with a knee-length, black-and-green checked skirt. Fortunately, her black shoes had a reasonably sensible, two-inch heel so she had little trouble following Casey across the uneven lawn toward the woods.
She spotted the dog just as Casey stopped ahead of her. Looking as ragged and dirty as it had the day before, it lurked in the shadows, watching them warily, prepared to run if they made any sudden moves.
Holding the water bowl in his left hand, Casey reached out with his right to take the food plate from Natalie. He crooned quietly to the dog as he took a few slow steps forward and knelt to set the bowls on the ground. “Here you go, buddy. Come on. Have some nice pot roast.”
Casey stayed by the plates, waiting to see if the dog was hungry enough to approach the food even with Casey so close. The dog remained where it was, looking from the food to Casey and then back again, its thin body quivering.
Casey sighed, stood and moved back to Natalie’s side, several yards from the food. “Okay. We won’t get too close.”
Apparently reassured, the dog crept closer to the food. It ate quickly, finishing the roast and then cleaning the plate with a few more licks before washing the meal down with several noisy laps of water. Satisfied, it looked at Natalie and Casey again. After a moment in which none of them moved, it gave a couple of quick, tentative wags of its matted tail, then turned and ran back into the woods.
“I think he thanked us,” Casey murmured, glancing at Natalie with a grin.
; Though she wasn’t prone to anthropomorphizing, she returned the smile and said, “Maybe he did. Do you think he’ll be back?”
“Could be. I’ll pick up some dog food this evening. That would be healthier for him than table scraps.”
“I’m not sure we’re doing him any favors by not calling animal control. At least he’d be safe and well-fed in an animal shelter. And the nights are starting to get pretty cold.”
“I don’t think they’d be able to catch him,” Casey argued. “And I don’t like the thought of him being trapped. I think I’ll be able to tame him enough to find him a home. He seems like he wants to make friends. He’s just a little skittish.”
“And how long do you think it will take to tame him to that point?”
“I, uh, don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug. “If I haven’t made any progress in the next couple of days, I’ll call animal control and ask for advice.”
She looked at him curiously. “Why are you so reluctant to call them? I’m sure they can catch him very humanely. And it would be so much safer for him to be…”
“In a cage?” Casey broke in to ask. “Deprived of his freedom and locked up somewhere for his own good?”
Startled by his tone, she tilted her head to study him more closely. “Um—?”
His face darkened with what might have been a flush. “Sorry. You’re right, he’d probably be better off in a shelter. But I’d still like to give it a couple of days. The weather’s supposed to be nice for the rest of the week, so I think he’ll be fine.”
She couldn’t say she understood, but it wasn’t as if the dog was bothering her. “Should we leave the water bowl out?”
Still looking a little sheepish, Casey shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt, though there’s plenty of water around this area.”
“And the food?”
“No. Too many other critters to be lured out if you leave food sitting out here. We’ll just feed the dog when we see him.”
She nodded and picked up the empty plate. “Fine. There’s more of the leftover pot roast, if you’re hungry.”
He chuckled. “Feeding the other stray in your yard?”
Smiling a little, she said, “I’ll even get you a bowl of water, if you’re thirsty.”
He shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. I brought lunch with me today. I ate at the picnic table and enjoyed the view. It was nice.”
“So, you’re finished for the day?”
“Almost. I just need to do a little more caulking on the west end of the cabin. Maybe another hour or so today.”
She nodded. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be inside.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Without looking back at him, she went inside. She changed into jeans and a sweater, then put water on to boil for tea. Her computer sat on the coffee table. She reached for it, then changed her mind. She just couldn’t face another fruitless search right then.
Glancing at her watch, she noted that it was only four o’clock. She had a long evening ahead with little to do. It was too late to go out for a walk, since it would be dark soon. She thought about calling someone—her mom, her dad, or Amber, maybe. But she couldn’t think of anything to say if she did. Nothing had changed.
She picked up a novel she’d been trying to read for the past week, though she’d had a hard time concentrating on it. She made it through about five pages before a tap on the front door brought her attention out of the story again.
The way Casey glanced downward let her know he’d noticed she’d changed clothes, though he didn’t comment. “I’m calling it a day. Anything you need before I leave?”
“No, thank you. Have a nice evening.”
His mouth crooked into a wry smile in response to her ridiculously clichéd words. “Thanks. Same to you.”
She’d almost closed the door before she jerked it impulsively back open. “Casey?”
Halfway down the steps, he looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
She tried to think of a good reason to keep him there a little longer, to delay the inevitable return to solitude and worry. “Do you like to play games? You know, cards and board games?”
His eyes lit up. “Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
“I found a whole stack of games in the cabinet next to the fireplace. Maybe you’d like to stay and play Scrabble or something for a while? I have some of Aunt Jewel’s leftovers I can heat for dinner. If you don’t have any other plans, of course,” she finished, belatedly realizing that he might have things he’d rather do.
He smiled. “I was going to work in the cabin tonight, but playing games sounds like a much nicer way to spend the evening. I warn you, though, I’m pretty good at Scrabble. And I play to win.”
Something about his smile made her very glad she’d let herself give in to temptation. She smiled back at him, ignoring the little voice in her head warning her to step carefully. “So do I.”
He walked back up the steps. “Looks like the competition’s on.”
Chapter Five
C asey could almost see Natalie loosening up as the evening progressed. She had been so tense earlier, her eyes shadowed, her mouth taut, but after a couple of no-holds-barred Scrabble games, one game won by each of them, she was laughing and relaxed. He took full credit for the transformation, though he did so privately.
“Would you like another glass of wine?” she asked, reaching for the bottle on the table beside her glass.Okay, so maybe he couldn’t take all the credit, he thought, shaking his head with a smile. “I have to drive in a little while. Considering those winding roads, I’d better stick to coffee now.”
She slapped her forehead lightly. “Of course. I wasn’t even thinking. Let me refill your coffee cup.”
“Thanks.”
She poured herself another glass of white wine. “Whose turn is it?”
“Yours.” He tapped the Scrabble board. “I played ‘quid.’ For a tidy number of points, I might add, considering that the Q is on a triple-letter square.”
She studied his play and then her tiles. A smile tipped up her lips, and then she set several tiles on the board with a flourish. “Vista,” she said rather gloatingly. “With, you will note, the S in front of your ‘quid,’ turning it into ‘squid.’ And may I also direct your attention to the triple-word square beneath the V.”
He couldn’t help laughing at her obvious delight in besting him. As competitive as he was, he didn’t mind losing when Natalie seemed to be having such a nice time winning. Whether because of the wine or the game or—he wanted to believe—the company, she was smiling more than he’d ever seen her, and the lighthearted mood looked good on her.
“It’s been years since I played board games,” she said, taking another sip of the wine. “I’d almost forgotten how much fun they can be.”
He picked up his coffee mug. “Your friends back in Nashville don’t get together to play games?”
Her smile dimmed a few watts. “Not so much. I’ve been hanging around with a bunch of workaholics for the past few years, I guess. Their idea of fun is a cocktail party with plenty of networking opportunities.”
So she’d been corporate. Didn’t surprise him. He still couldn’t decide if she’d burned out or lost her job, but something made him suspect the latter. Laying out tiles to spell “maid,” the longest word he could manage at the time, he said casually, “Sounds to me like you needed a vacation.”
“I suppose I did.” She took a few moments to study her tile rack, then played on his M.
“Not much fun, though, if you’re spending it all here in this cabin.”
She shrugged. “I needed the rest.”
“Maybe you’d like to do something a little different this week? Maybe a hike or something? I’ve been told there are some pretty nice trails around here.”
“I haven’t been hiking in a long time, either. But maybe I will go this week.”
“You know, this is my first visit to this area. I’d like to go with you on a hik
e, if you don’t mind.”
She didn’t even hesitate this time before she picked up her wine glass again and nodded. “Sure. Why not? I could use the diversion.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about being used as a diversion—but then again, wasn’t that what he was looking for, as well? Something to think about other than returning home and taking up his life where he’d left off—a prospect that left him feeling empty and inexplicably anxious?
She won the game, by less than twenty points. “That makes you the champ tonight,” he said. “Two games to one.”
“It was close,” she replied, beginning to gather the game pieces. “We’re pretty evenly matched.”
He thought about those words for a moment, but decided not to comment on them. Instead, he took another sip of coffee while Natalie closed the Scrabble game box.
Her gaze met his across the table between them and he was struck by something he saw in her eyes. His well-developed intuition told him that though she had laughed and played for a couple of hours, something was still eating at her. Something an evening of games—and half a bottle of wine—couldn’t entirely banish.
He wondered just how much of a “diversion” she was looking for with him.
She drained the wine from her glass, and looked for a moment as if she were tempted to refill it again. But then she pushed her glass away and replaced the stopper in the wine bottle. “Can I get you some more coffee?”
“Actually, it’s getting late. I guess I’d better be going.”
He saw the expression in her eyes before she lowered her lids, but he couldn’t interpret what he had seen. Was she reluctant for him to leave? If so, was it because she really wanted him to stay—or because she didn’t want to be alone?
She followed him through the living room. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose.”
“Yeah. Thanks for dinner. And the games.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed the company.”
“You mean, the diversion,” he murmured, remembering what she’d said earlier.
