Blue Ridge Hideaway

by Cynthia Thomason

  She’d even convinced Bret to let her walk with Luke to the beginning of the old Timber Gap Trail. They hadn’t been permitted to wander out of Bret’s sight but still, she’d been encouraged because Bret had trusted her to go alone with his son. Maybe in the past three days he’d come a long way in accepting that she was a good person.

  They drove through the arched entry to The Crooked Spruce, and Dorie took a good long look at the lodge building. Bret had completed staining the eaves and gutters a dark green, and the matching trim Dorie had applied around the door and screens made the building appear fresh and new. She tried to shake off a feeling of loss at leaving the camp. Ironically, just when Bret was learning to trust her, she was leaving. He’d kept his word to her, and she’d probably never have a reason to come back.

  She got out of the truck. “I’ll just pack up my things and get going,” she said.

  “No hurry,” he answered. “Do you want something to eat?”

  “No. I’ll grab a snack on the road.”

  He nodded, followed her inside. Clancy came out of the kitchen with a mug in his hand. “Everything go okay?” he asked.

  “It’s taken care of,” Bret said.

  “I’ll pay you back every cent, son,” Clancy said.

  “We’ll talk about it later.”

  Dorie hoped that at least in this instance, Clancy would be a man of his word. She certainly didn’t want to be out five thousand dollars, but she knew risking that amount was a hardship for Bret, too. She went down the hall to the storage room. In a few minutes she had her few belongings stuffed into her duffel bag. She slipped her cell phone into her pocket, grabbed her jacket and walked back to the main room. Bret and Clancy were seated at the picnic table.

  “I guess that’s it, then,” she said. “You know, despite the reason that brought me here, I’ve really kind of enjoyed myself.”

  Bret’s eyes widened. “Really? You enjoyed all this work?”

  She smiled. “Maybe enjoy isn’t the exact right word. But it’s been different and peaceful, and I haven’t minded helping out.” She shrugged. “I like to keep busy, and since I lost my old business, this has been almost like therapy.”

  Clancy grinned in that way he had of warning folks that he was about to say something outrageous. “Did you think scrubbing the walls of the Crab Trap was fun, too? Because if you did, maybe we ought to reevaluate our deal.”

  “Don’t push your luck,” she said. “Besides, that money is probably already in a mail truck heading across the state.” She slung her pack over her shoulder. “So, this is goodbye, gentlemen. Best of luck with your camp, Bret. I hope it’s a success.”

  “Thanks.” He looked as if he was going to say something else. His mouth opened for a second, but then he just cleared his throat.

  “Something else on your mind?” she asked.

  “I was just wondering...what will you do when you get back to Winston Beach? You have a job waiting for you?”

  “Not a specific job, no. But I can always wait tables, and it’s almost tourist season. I’ll find something, if not in Winston Beach then up the road in Nag’s Head or Kill Devil Hills.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” he said.

  She looked from one man to the other. When neither spoke again, she headed for the door. “Take it easy.” She stuck her hand in the pocket of her jacket and pulled out the can of mace she’d brought. “Want me to leave this for you guys in case any other troublesome women show up?”

  Bret smiled. “No, thanks. My skills with troublesome women aren’t so good as it is. I don’t think spraying that stuff will improve my rep.”

  In the three days, Dorie had forgiven Bret for all his suspicions about her motives, but she recalled that she hadn’t been nearly so understanding that morning in the kitchen when he’d insinuated that she needed the money for illegal reasons. That day she’d thought him a judgmental cop who drew conclusions without knowing the facts—facts he didn’t really have a right to know as far as his father’s debt was concerned. They’d both learned a lot about each other since then. And now, as she was going out the door, she was genuinely sorry to be leaving.

  She forced one more smile she didn’t feel and went to her vehicle. Luckily the truck started up with the first turn of the key. She didn’t think she could take going back inside again. She’d come to like The Crooked Spruce more than she could have imagined. This setting would make a nice retreat. Whoever stayed here would experience nature and peace not found at many places.

  But it was the owner of the property she was thinking about when the lodge building disappeared from her rearview. When the first curve took The Crooked Spruce from her sight, she concentrated on turning her thoughts to home, Jack and the problems that hadn’t gone away during her time in the mountains.

  When she reached the end of the winding path, she braked at the gravel apron where a worn stop sign indicated the entrance to the more heavily traveled road. She scanned both directions and was about to pull out when a horn sounded behind her. A glance in her mirror revealed Bret’s truck bearing down on her. He pulled up behind her, spitting gravel dust from his big tires.

  “What on...?” She didn’t dare let her mind wander to reasons why he might have followed her. Still, the thought that he might want her email address or contact information made her heart race. “Don’t be silly, Dorie,” she said to herself. She put her truck in Park and got out. Bret walked to the front of his vehicle.

  “Did I forget something?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Did you forget something?”

  He looked down, reminding her of a kid who was checking to see if his shoelaces were tied. This uncertain demeanor was a new side to Bret Donovan. “Sort of,” he said.

  “Okay. What is it?”

  He looked up at her. “Well, I was just wondering...”

  She waited, raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

  He coughed lightly into his hand. “What will you do if you don’t find a job?”

  “I’ll find one. I always do.”

  “I don’t know why you’re so sure. The economy is still pretty bad.”

  She flattened her palm over her pounding chest. She wasn’t used to someone actually seeming interested in her future, no matter how misplaced that concern might be. Bottom line, why should Bret care at all about what happened to her?

  “I’m not looking for a CEO position, Bret. I can live on a waitress’s salary. Besides, I don’t know why this should bother you. I’ve been enough of a problem, haven’t I?”

  “Well, yeah, in a way, and I’ve noticed that you can probably take care of yourself.”

  “Exactly. I can.”

  “But I just started thinking after you left.”

  “And?”

  He leaned back against the hood of his truck and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Here’s the thing, Dorie. You don’t really have to go back right away, do you?”

  “I have a lot to take care of at home,” she said. “I have to make sure the attorney is doing his job for my brother.”

  “You can’t do that by phone?”

  Yes, she could she supposed. But why would she? She had nowhere else to go but home, nothing to do but get a job and worry about Jack. Her instincts warned her not to let some crazy notion that Bret might be offering her another option cloud her common sense.

  “I can do some things by phone, sure,” she said, determined to remain cautious. “But if I don’t go home and water my plants, they’ll die.”

  He smiled.

  “And of course, there’s Jack. He counts on me for moral support.”

  “I know that. But your responsibility to him is financial as well as emotional, right?”

  “I think we’ve already established that fact.” She leaned
against her truck door and crossed her arms. “What’s going on, Bret?”

  He took off his ball cap and scratched his nape “You’ve seen enough of The Crooked Spruce to know that I could use some help. I’ve got to get the camp up and running by May first, only four weeks from now. Pop and I can handle the maintenance stuff, the painting, repairs and so on. But I need supplies, merchandise on my shelves. I need to build a website, advertise on social networks. I need someone to answer questions and man the phone.”

  “I didn’t think you even had a landline.”

  “I don’t, but I’m going to get one.”

  “Probably a good idea.” She tried to hide a smile. Poor man. “You’d better get busy with that list then,” she said. “You wasted about fifteen minutes already chasing me down the mountain.”

  “Come on, Dorie, you know what I’m getting at. I was going to hire someone from town to do this stuff, but you need a job, and I know you’d be capable.”

  A job. Here on Hickory Mountain. Could she actually let herself consider it? “How do you know I can do all those things? Some of your list requires computer skills.”

  “I know a little about computers. Don’t you?”

  “Some.” She didn’t admit that along with nutrition classes to benefit her picnic company at the local junior college, she’d also taken some graphic design courses. She could handle most computer programs.

  “I figure between the two of us...and a fairly bright ten-year-old, we can cover the bases,” Bret said.

  She knew she could do the job. She could design a functional website for his business, and she’d done all the advertising for Clancy. A bit of research would lead her to social and business networks populated with Bret’s target customers. But did she really want to stay on Hickory Mountain?

  “I still have some meager reserves, so I’ll pay you, of course,” he said when the silence had stretched to nearly a minute.

  She let out a long breath. “How much?”

  “Minimum wage at least.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That doesn’t even match my tips at a good restaurant.”

  “Okay. Ten bucks an hour. That’s the best I can do.”

  She tapped her foot on the gravel and chewed on her bottom lip. She thought of that cozy room in the lodge, the one filled with rolls of paper towels. She thought of the gorgeous views up the mountain, the cool breeze whispering over the porch swing. She thought of the gruff but kind man in front of her and the sweet, funny little boy who’d already begun to capture her heart. She should probably run in the other direction, but she couldn’t help being drawn to them and to this place.

  “I guess I could stay a couple of weeks. As long as I’m home in time for Jack’s trial.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Sure. We can accomplish a lot in two weeks.”

  “You’ll need to get that phone put in. And arrange for an 800 number, too. Cell service is terrible up here. I have to be able to contact the lawyer, and we can’t communicate with potential clients for The Crooked Spruce via a ham radio.”

  “I’ll call the phone company today.”

  “We should both turn our trucks around, then,” she said. “Unless you can back up to the lodge the whole way.”

  He settled the cap back on his head and opened his truck door. “I’ll follow you out to the road and pull a U-turn behind you. And Dorie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re going to be a big help to us. I underestimated the length of time I needed to get the place open.” He got behind the wheel and shut the door. Before she got in her own truck, he leaned out his window. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

  She gave him a little wave, got in her truck and pulled onto the road. So am I, Bret, she thought to herself. But the truth was, she didn’t know what had gotten into her. She should be heading back to Winston Beach and the troubles that waited for her there. But she couldn’t deny the tingle of excitement that surged through her at this moment. Maybe she didn’t deserve this escape from her life, but she was going to take it. And even if it was only two weeks, she would make the most of it.

  But then what? She’d have to go back to Jack, to her little bungalow, her job hunt, her bills—she hoped her neighbor wouldn’t mind bringing in the mail and watering her plants. She’d have to leave all this behind. She’d have to leave Bret. And Luke. But she had two weeks, and a lot could happen in fourteen days.

  * * *

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Dorie sat at the desk in front of Bret’s computer. Her mind buzzed with ideas, and this machine was just waiting and willing to accept what her brain told it to do.

  “There are six cabins out there,” Bret said, leaning over her right shoulder. He seemed relaxed, almost as if her decision to stay had lifted some hidden burden. He hadn’t warned anyone to be cautious about the Shelton boys in hours.

  She jotted down the number of cabins Bret wanted finished and tried not to notice his clean, woodsy scent. “Okay, six cabins,” she said, focusing on the task at hand. “And how many beds in each one?”

  “Right now, eight. Four sets of bunks.”

  “So forty-eight beds altogether.”

  “Yeah, but since they are left over from the Boy-Scout days, they aren’t in the best condition. We’re going to eliminate the top bunk on each, and Pop’s working on adding slats to the frames so the beds will support full-sized men. All of the mattresses need replacing, too. We can’t expect anyone to pay money to sleep on the old cotton ticking ones out there now. I’ll need you to research and find the best prices. I want firm, serviceable beds but not fancy. And naturally money is a consideration.

  “I’ll be satisfied if we have three renovated cabins with four good beds in each,” he added. “I don’t think we’ll have more than twelve guests at one time for this first season.”

  “So the remaining three cabins will stay as is for now?”

  “Yes, until I build up some capital. But I need one more ready with only one bed. It’s for the guy who’s coming here to help with security. He’s got to have a place to live.”

  Remembering Julie telling her about Bret’s friend from his academy days, she said, “Good idea. Those execs can be pretty dangerous. I doubt one ex-cop can handle all the mayhem by himself.”

  “Okay, you laugh, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance. We’re remote on this mountain, and anybody could come on the property without being seen. Matt’s competent, but it could take a while for him to get here if there was a problem.”

  “I suppose.” She referred to her list again. “And what amenities do you want in each cabin?”

  He chuckled. “Amenities? Necessities is more like it. I’m catering to executives participating in a wilderness experience. I wouldn’t want to insult their machismo with track lighting and indoor plumbing.”

  She smiled to herself. “That reminds me,” she said, turning to look up into his face. “What facilities do you have? Will the men need to come into the main building here to shower?”

  “They can. They’re welcome to, but I plan to fix up the old bathhouse out behind the cabins. It already has plumbing, and I’ve got a couple of commodes and two showers to replace what’s in there. It’s on my list of things to update before May first.”

  “What about electricity?”

  “There are two outlets in each cabin. I’ve already had an electrician check out the wiring. We’ll be able to provide for a lamp and the opportunity to recharge cell phones and iPads. I figure these guys won’t want to completely give up contact with the outside world.”

  “So we need one lamp per cabin, and maybe a basic desk for each, which we can order from a wholesaler and assemble here.” She finished making her notes and said, “What about windows?”

  “What about them?”

  “How many are there in each
cabin?

  “Two. Why?”

  “Don’t you want curtains or blinds for privacy?”

  He pulled up a chair and sat beside her. His shoulder practically touched hers. “These are guys, Dorie. Guys don’t worry about stuff like that. If we get female guests, I’ll reevaluate. But for now, the only creatures that might look in the windows on our execs would be a bear or a moose, and that would only add to the wilderness experience.”

  “So you’re not worried about Sasquatch?”

  He grinned. “I want these travelers to tell a few ghost stories, roast a marshmallow or two and go to bed early. Then they’ll get up with sun, eat a hearty, expensive breakfast, buy gear they probably don’t really need and get on their way.”

  She shook her head. “Pardon me. I temporarily lost sight of your primary goal, which is to make money.”

  “Money is important to all of us. Even you. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  She stared at him. “Of course, I’m here for the job. Just the job.” She almost choked on the words. There were jobs on the Outer Banks. Yet she’d stayed here for this one.

  His brow furrowed. “I never thought otherwise.”

  She led the conversation back to business. “As far as sheets for the beds, I would suggest flannel. They’re inexpensive, easy to wash, pretty much wrinkle resistant and most in line with your back-to-nature theme.”

  “I’ll leave that up to you. Just show me some price comparisons before you put in an order. I don’t like surprises.”

  “And yet you’ve had to deal with two big ones recently. Clancy and now me. For a man who doesn’t like surprises, we must have really upset the normal flow of your life.”

  “Pop upsets my life whenever he appears. But right now I’m looking at you as a good surprise. I wouldn’t have thought I’d say this a few days ago, but I’m glad you showed up.”

  He stood, walked to the coatrack and took down his mackinaw. “I’ll leave you to do your thing. Pop and I will be outside working on the cabins.” He stopped at the door and grinned at her. “No ordering pillows for that swing. There are no women here, you know.”