Blue Ridge Hideaway

by Cynthia Thomason

  Oddly, that statement disappointed him. “Thanks for all the time you took with Luke tonight. The puzzle turned out to be a good idea. And I’d say Luke seems to be quite taken with you.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m something different, that’s all it is.” She wrapped her hands around the mug and looked at Bret. “He’s a great kid, Bret. You must be proud of him.”

  “I am. But this whole move...and other things...haven’t been easy for him. I worry every day about whether I did the right thing bringing him up here.”

  She passed him a knowing look and he wondered what Julie had told her. Probably everything. That was Julie.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much,” she said. “Kids adjust. I think it’s much more important that their stability comes from the people who love them rather than the physical things around them. He’ll make friends, bring other boys up here to explore.”

  “That’s the thing,” Bret said. “He hasn’t suggested bringing anyone here. In fact, when he saw that kid at Walmart tonight, that’s the first I knew that he was even making friends.”

  “Some kids just like to keep to themselves. But that can change. I’ll bet when he gets more used to this place and the school, he’ll invite other boys.” She smiled. “And maybe girls eventually.”

  Bret laughed softly. “Now you’re just scaring me.”

  “Didn’t mean to.” She stared at the sky for a moment and then said, “Look at my brother, Jack. He lived in the same place all his life—the little cottage we share on Winston Beach. Despite having the same house to come home to night after night, he managed to get in trouble. I suppose I made mistakes with him, was too lenient...”

  “You had parents, didn’t you?” Bret said. “You can’t blame yourself for the scrapes he got into.”

  “Where our dad is, I haven’t a clue,” she said. “But our mom stuck around until the day after my eighteenth birthday.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Out of nowhere, she gave me the deed to the house. Said it was all mine. I should have seen it coming, but I was pretty naive back then. The next morning she left a note saying Jack loved me more than he did her, anyway, so she knew she was leaving him in good hands. She had a boyfriend, so she must have gone off with him. I haven’t heard from her since.”

  Bret couldn’t begin to comprehend such behavior from a parent. Even Maisie, who wouldn’t win any awards for mothering, had been a thousand times more maternal than whoever gave birth to Jack and Dorie. How could any mother do what Dorie’s mother had done? “So that was it? It sounds like she waited until you were officially an adult and then took off.”

  Dorie shrugged. “I guess that was her plan. Thank goodness she didn’t leave earlier. Jack was only eight at the time. The state could have come in and taken him to foster care. As it was, Mom left written instructions for me to be his guardian, not that any official ever checked. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost him.”

  Bret was beginning to comprehend the weight of responsibility that drove Dorie to make the decisions she did. An eight-year-old was an awesome burden to drop on the shoulders of a young woman. She’d obviously had to grow up fast.

  “So, barely an adult yourself, you took on the job of raising your brother.”

  “I did the best I knew how,” she said. “I’d pretty much raised Jack all along, but taking over the full responsibility? Well, I know I must have been lacking in some areas.”

  He studied her profile in the moonlight. A firm, stubborn chin, high cheekbones that lifted when she smiled, soft eyes with long lashes. She was a blend of strength and fragility. He suspected she knew how to be tough and when to be soft. Nothing he could say would convey his sympathy, and he figured she didn’t want it, anyway. So he said simply, “That must have been tough for you.”

  She nodded. “There were times... But I’m telling you this to point out that kids have so many influences on their lives, sometimes the way they turn out is just dumb luck. We can only do so much.”

  He couldn’t argue. He’d known the most indulgent parents, ones that probably read every book on the subject of raising competent, self-assured kids, who’d raised hellions. And he’d known parents who’d haphazardly fed and clothed offspring who’d ended up at Harvard.

  “And there’s another thing. At the time, this move was what you needed....” She paused. “At least I imagine it was. Luke can’t be happy unless you’re settled and content. His emotions feed off yours. You ground him. His security is directly affected by how secure you feel.”

  The woman had some good instincts. The blame that had sat squarely on Bret’s shoulders for months now suddenly seemed lighter, less of a burden. Maybe it was time for him to stop beating himself up for taking Luke away from his Miami home and his maternal grandfather.

  “I did need to start over somewhere else,” he said.

  She nodded as if she understood. “We’re all human. We all have needs.”

  He wondered what her needs were now. Had she ignored them for so long that she couldn’t even identify them? Had she sacrificed so much for her brother that she didn’t even realize what her own life was missing? He sometimes missed having a partner to share his hopes and dreams with, someone to love. He speculated about whether or not Dorie had a man in her life. If so, Bret hoped he was as understanding with her as she must be with him.

  “This hot chocolate was just what I needed to help me sleep,” she said, pushing away from the railing. “I think I’ll take a shower and go to bed.”

  She smiled at him again, and he wondered if that special look was fast becoming one of his needs.

  “Go ahead and make up a list of jobs for tomorrow,” she said. “You get my help for one more day whether you want it or not.”

  He felt inexplicably saddened by the thought that she’d be heading off his mountain on Monday and back to the life that waited for her in Winston Beach. He didn’t like thinking of her in that life again, dealing with lawyers and trials. But their relationship so far was only business and the deal they’d made would be concluded. “I appreciate your help,” he said.

  After she went inside, he waited a few minutes before going in, then washed out his mug, set it next to hers in the drainer and headed for the stairs by her room. As he passed the bathroom she was using, he smelled something enticing that brought back emotions he’d tried to bury. Apples, maybe. Her shampoo? The scent stirred something deep inside him and he realized that the connection he suddenly longed for might be with the woman whose shampoo would linger with him all night.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SUNDAY, DORIE’S LAST full day on Hickory Mountain, the dawn was crisp and cool and clean. She kept busy with the few simple jobs Bret asked her to do and then she set about thoroughly cleaning his kitchen. While scouring and organizing his supplies, she discovered most of the ingredients she needed to make a barbecue ham casserole, one of her specialties. If it was true that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, perhaps she could leave a good impression on Bret’s heart with her secret sauce. Not that she’d really thought about being in his heart at all. Not that it mattered.

  By noon, Dorie had begun to regret that her time at The Crooked Spruce would be over so soon. She’d always loved being by the ocean, but her short time in the Blue Ridge had shown her the beauty of the mountains.

  The budding trees were a sign of a vibrant spring just around the corner. The mountain paths were mysterious and inviting. The smell of fresh lumber was natural and sweet. But these elements weren’t all that intrigued her on that last day. She enjoyed looking out the kitchen window and watching the men work. Honest labor such as she had always believed in. She loved it when Luke burst through the kitchen door wanting a drink or a snack or simply to ask her what she was doing. His youthful demands and curiosity reminded her of the goo
d times with Jack.

  But this brief contentment ended midafternoon when a black-and-white patrol car pulled up in front of the lodge. Dorie immediately retreated from the main room to the kitchen. Anytime she’d encountered the police, the situation had gone badly for her. A speeding ticket, a busted taillight—she’d always heard stories of people talking their way out of these dilemmas, but not her. She’d gotten a ticket from some grim-faced by-the-book cop every time. And her mistrust of the law had only gotten worse when her brother had been falsely accused.

  Still, her curiosity was keen, so she stood near a partially open door, hoping to hear what was going on. Bret came around the lodge and met the sheriff on the front porch. After polite but manly greetings, he said, “What brings you up this way, Matt?”

  “I’m checking on all local residents,” the sheriff said. “At least the ones who aren’t still in Florida until the temperature rises.”

  “Looking for something in particular?” Bret asked. “Or someone?”

  Dorie peeked through the opening in the door. The sheriff, a big man about Bret’s age, rubbed the back of his neck. “You ever hear of Dabney Shelton?”

  Bret answered that he hadn’t.

  “Their family has been in these mountains since the 1800s. And I can’t say that the generations have improved with age.”

  Bret crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”

  “Dabney is trouble. Always has been. The oldest of two boys, he’s nineteen now, just got out of jail for stealing computers from the high school. The ones he didn’t sell, he busted up on the highway, leaving parts strewn all over. Just malicious vandalism.”

  Even from a room away, Dorie could see worry lines form in Bret’s forehead. His booted foot tapped a steady beat on his porch floor. “You think Dabney might come around here?”

  “I wish I could answer that,” the sheriff said. “Would make my life a lot easier. All I know for sure is that yesterday what was left of the ramshackle barn next to his daddy’s place burned to the ground. That’s what Dabney’s known for. He’s always been a fire starter, though we haven’t been able to prove his guilt.”

  “He doesn’t leave evidence, then?” Bret said.

  “Not any we can tie to him for sure. And now that he’s out of jail, I’ve heard he’s trying to enlist his younger brother, Leroy, into his activities. They’ve been seen together a number of times in Mountain Spring.”

  “Does Leroy have a record?” Bret asked.

  “Not yet. He’s always been a quiet kid, stuck around home, built up a lot of truancies. But he’s not a criminal—at least not so far. But I think he can be influenced by his older brother.”

  “That would be a shame,” Bret said. “About those fires, you know my background. Maybe I could help pin Dabney to the crime before he does more.”

  “I’ll let you know. Right now all I have is a strong hunch,” Matt said.

  “Is the barn the only fire you’ve had reported?” Bret asked.

  “Wish I could say yes, but we’ve had a couple other suspicious blazes crop up, as well. Luckily we got them under control quick enough.”

  Bret looked out of his porch screen, seeming to take in his beautiful arched sign. “I can hardly afford a fire around here,” he said. “Not after all the work I’ve put into this place.”

  “That’s why I’m warning you and anybody else on the mountain,” the sheriff said.

  “I appreciate the heads-up,” Bret said.

  “Keep a lookout. I know you have law enforcement experience so I trust you to know what you’re doing if you see something or someone suspicious. Dabney is a big man over six feet tall and heavyset. Leroy is smaller and skinny. Looks like he hasn’t had a haircut in months. If you see them, don’t engage them. Call me, and I’ll be out here in a flash.”

  “I will. But I don’t know these guys, and they don’t know me, so I can’t imagine they’d have a beef with me.”

  “You’re working hard and turning nothing into something,” Matt said. “That’s enough to get Dabney’s attention.”

  “I’ll be cautious,” Bret said. “Thanks for coming out.”

  The sheriff got in his car and drove off.

  * * *

  BRET WAS AS tense as he could remember being since he’d left the Miami police force. When Matt left, he stormed into the house and called for Luke and Dorie. She came out of the kitchen, Luke trailing behind her.

  “What’s going on, Dad?” Luke asked.

  “Just had a visit from the sheriff,” he said. “I want you two to pay close attention. There are a couple of bad fellas on the loose around here, starting fires and causing other general mischief.”

  “It seemed to me that the sheriff wasn’t positive,” Dorie said. “Like he’s assuming he knows the perpetrators without any eyewitnesses or concrete evidence.”

  Bret narrowed his eyes. “Were you listening to our conversation?”

  She shrugged. “No one warned me that it was a secret. I figure if a law enforcement officer shows up, it’s everybody’s business, even if he’s jumping to conclusions.”

  Jumping to conclusions? Was she serious? Bret could only shake his head. “Matt’s been the sheriff in Mountain Spring for something like ten years. I think that qualifies him to know just about everybody in this part of the Blue Ridge.”

  “But there’s no evidence. Innocent until proven guilty, isn’t that the foundation of our justice system? And yet the sheriff, and you it seems, immediately decide that this man, and possibly his brother, are guilty.”

  He knew why she was playing devil’s advocate, and the last thing he wanted to do was bring up the subject of her brother again and her opinion of his treatment by the authorities. She probably figured the Shelton brothers were being railroaded just like her brother had been.

  She stared hard at him. “Can’t you admit I at least have a point?”

  “All I’m going to say right now is that each of us has to be very careful for the next few days. No wandering off the property. Come to me if you see anyone who doesn’t belong here.” He tapped the side of his head. “Be smart. Be vigilant.”

  Dorie started back toward the kitchen. “That won’t be hard on me. I’m leaving soon, anyway.”

  Did she think this was a joke? He watched her enter the kitchen and then said, “Luke?”

  “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll be careful.”

  “And tell your grandfather to follow the same advice.” Bret scratched his head. “Though the word careful doesn’t seem to be part of his vocabulary.”

  * * *

  THE REST OF the day passed without incident and by Sunday night, conversation turned to the quality of Dorie’s barbecue and school starting again the next day. On Monday morning, Dorie sat in Bret’s truck in front of Pine Crest Elementary School in Mountain Spring, North Carolina. Next to her, Bret looked over his shoulder to the backseat. “You have everything?” he asked his son. “Backpack, lunch, book you were supposed to read over the vacation?”

  “Yep.” Luke opened the back passenger door and jumped out. “Am I supposed to take the bus home?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’ll meet you at the stop.”

  Dorie opened her window. “Have a good day, Luke.”

  “I will. And Dorie, don’t finish the puzzle before you leave. I want to put in the last piece.”

  “I won’t touch it.”

  “And when you come back, bring another puzzle, okay? Maybe a Batman one. I like doing them.”

  “You got it, kiddo.” She made a thumbs-up sign, and Luke hustled toward the one-story brick building.

  Bret pulled away from the curb and glanced at her. “Did you give Luke the impression you were coming back? Because if you did...”

  “No, of course I didn’t. Some people
just have an easier time saying goodbye if they pretend it isn’t forever. Luke and I said our real goodbyes last night.”

  “I just don’t want him counting on something that isn’t going to happen.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “He really likes you, Dorie.”

  “And I like him.”

  “He seems content with you here.”

  “Works both ways, Bret. I never knew there were so many varieties of trees in these mountains, and Luke knows all of them. I suppose he got that knowledge from you.”

  “I’ve tried to make this new location a learning experience for him.”

  “Good job, then.”

  They arrived at the Walmart again where Bret’s bank had an in-store branch. “Okay. Time to go in and get the cashier’s check,” Bret said. “You sure you still want to mail it? We could have it wire-transferred.”

  “I didn’t want to fuss with getting Schreiber’s account numbers. If we send the check by Express Mail today, he’ll get it tomorrow. That’ll be fine.”

  They went into the store, proceeded to the bank office and waited a minute before being called to a teller. Dorie provided the information needed to make out the check. She told the teller to assign it to Hawkes, Schreiber and Bolger, Attorneys-at-Law in Wilmington, North Carolina, and said, “Next stop, the post office.”

  They drove the short distance and Dorie went in to mail the check. “Well, I guess that’s it,” she said when she returned to the truck. “Thanks for your help with this, Bret. I hope Clancy works until he pays you back.”

  “Me, too. Time will tell.” Bret pulled onto the two-lane highway and headed toward The Crooked Spruce. Neither of them spoke as the truck navigated the twists and turns to Hickory Mountain. Dorie thought about the previous day, her last full day on the mountain. Once the excitement about the Shelton brothers had calmed down, she’d stained shelves Bret had built to display the merchandise he would soon offer for sale. The soft walnut color blended nicely with the log-paneled interior of the lodge. Then, using her culinary experience, she’d made a list of food items Bret might need to fix meals for as many as a dozen people at a time.