This Time in Timberline

by Jennifer Morey

  "He asked me to marry him a month ago. The wedding is in two weeks."

  "Two weeks? Oh my God. Are you going to Vegas?" She felt a pang of hurt her friend didn't tell her sooner.

  "No. Everything is planned. We're getting married at Alpine Christian Church. It'll be very traditional. Small town, you know. It's what Charlie wants. Me too, since I'm never leaving this place."

  Utah could only stare at her.

  Then she realized a Vegas wedding and a move to anywhere metropolitan would be preferable to her vivacious friend than staying here. "I would have been happy for you. You could have told me."

  Roanne smiled with affection and shook her head. "I'm sorry things didn't work out for you, Utah. You deserve to be just as happy as I am."

  Reminded of her first marriage, Utah kept her melancholy hidden. Beau, or whatever his name was, had looked and acted too beautiful to be real. All his chocolates and flowers had blinded her to his true nature until he'd started beating her. It wasn't until after she'd left that she discovered he'd used a false name.

  She sipped her diet coke.

  "Maybe this time Mason will come around," Roanne said, bending over her straw like Utah.

  Utah couldn't believe her friend said it. She straightened. "I don't care what Mason wants. He isn't getting me again."

  Roanne leaned back in her chair. "There must still be something there, Utah. I saw the way he kissed you at Burl's. And I can tell you were thinking about him just now."

  So much for hiding her feelings. "All he wants is another round on the hood of his Mustang."

  "He doesn't have that car anymore."

  "All right, on the front seat of his dad's truck."

  Roanne made a disgusted face. "Ew. How about just on your bed?"

  The thought of Mason in her house, naked on her bed almost stopped her breath. "No way."

  "I'd take whatever a guy like that has to offer. He's hot. Think of the fun you'd have." Roanne laughed.

  "That guy is the one who left me fifteen years ago, Ro. He never wanted me and that part of my life is over. I'd be ten different kinds of stupid if I let him get to me again."

  "Aw, you were just kids then. It's different now. Aside from that, you're bound to run into him if he's staying the whole summer."

  "I'll be busy with my golf course."

  Roanne shook her head with a smirk, but fondness found its way into her eyes. "You and that golf. What do you find so fascinating about watching old farts swing a metal rod?"

  "It's not an old fart sport."

  "Stuffed shirts, then."

  Utah pretended to look injured. "You think I'm a stuffed shirt?"

  "No. That's what makes it so weird."

  "Golf is enjoyable and challenging. There is no other job for me."

  "No wonder you left Timberline."

  True. There was no golf course in Timberline when she'd left. And the drive to succeed had taken her mind off Mason. She'd poured herself into golf after he left, working as a food and beverage manager, learning the business, and golfing in her free time. The way he'd left...

  That old pain swept her all over again. After the most incredible night of her life, he left her. She thought it had been his, too, but he proved her wrong by leaving. Without even saying goodbye. Her last memory of him was when he'd dropped her off at her house. He'd walked her to the door, kissed her one more time. A long, long time. Then walked backward down the sidewalk with a sexy grin until he reached the street. He'd gotten into his car and sat there for a while, looking at her and no longer smiling.

  That's when her certainty had slipped. She hadn't realized it then, but Mason had known that was the last time he'd see her. She took one step toward him and as soon as she did, he'd pressed the gas and made the back tires squeal as he raced away.

  Later that night, she almost called him, but hadn't wanted to wake his dad. So she'd waited until early the next day. Then ran all the way to his house. His Mustang was gone. Tears already burned her eyes when Andy opened the front door.

  "You just missed him," he said.

  "When will he be back?" she asked.

  Andy's face turned grim. "I thought you knew. Mason said he told you. He joined the Army."

  And her heart shattered right there on the sidewalk. A chill trickled through her entire body as shock gripped her. That what it? He had just left? Would she ever see him again? Didn't he want to see her again? Those thoughts and the feelings they stirred had bombarded her. Surely she must be mistaken. Surely he couldn't have just driven away without even saying goodbye? No. He couldn't have done it. He couldn't have left like that, not after what happened between them the night before.

  The memory hadn't faded with time. She still felt it. The deep hurt that ripped through her. The unbelievable comprehension that Mason hadn't cared after all. Not the way she had.

  Just then the door to Andy's office in the building across the street opened and Mason stepped out. Her pulse quickened, intensifying the effect of the bittersweet memory. He looked up one end of the street then the other, his long legs moving fluidly, the faded jeans cupping his crotch. His arm bulged as he shuffled keys in his hand. He was sexier now than he was then.

  "See what I mean?" Roanne made it worse by commenting. "I don't remember him being that big. Look at his shoulders." Roanne angled her head as she studied the man through the window. "Was he that hot when we were kids?"

  "He's a jerk." And the sooner he left the better.

  ###

  After lunch with Roanne, Utah headed toward the Dusty Page Bookstore on the corner of Second and Main. Bells rang from the old stone church as she passed, its pointed steeple reaching for clear blue sky. Ahead on the sidewalk, she saw Harvey in front of Mountain Hardware. The entrance was set back from the sidewalk, leaving enough room for a small courtyard. Harvey was always working on something to put there. When she'd come to visit her mother last summer, it had been pots of flowers. She wondered what he'd decided to do this year.

  She came to the courtyard and heard hammering. She was already smiling by the time she saw what he was doing. She stopped to watch him whittle away on a six-foot tree stump. What it was supposed to be, she was afraid to guess. He had enough wood chips on the ground that it should be obvious.

  Harvey saw her and smiled wide. "Whaddoya think?"

  "What is it?"

  His smile flattened. "An eagle. Can't you tell?"

  "Where are its wings?" And its beak, claws, and tail? "Does it have eyes?"

  Harvey curled one side of his mouth into an unappreciative frown. "He's perched on a limb."

  Utah angled her head and tried to see it. All she saw was a tangle of gnarled wood.

  "I'm going to enter the Timber Carve Competition at the Celebrate the West Festival later this summer," Harvey said.

  "Is this what you're entering?"

  "Why? You don't think I should?"

  He looked offended. "No, I...i-it's good. It's...unique."

  Harvey mumbled something and Utah knew if she said anymore she'd just dig herself into deeper trouble. She smiled. "Don't worry, you'll do great." With a wave, she continued on her way.

  Jingles announced her entry into the Dusty Page. What she was after was something funny. Something that would give her an escape for a few hours. She'd hole herself in her mother's house where there was no danger of seeing Mason's crotch in faded jeans.

  "I forgot how boring it is here."

  Her back stiffened so fast it triggered a muscle spasm in her neck. She suppressed a grimace and slid her gaze sideways. Mason grinned and held up a book. It was a Robert Ludlum novel, one of the Bourne series.

  Forcing herself to keep her eyes on the shelves of books, she quickly chose a novel and took it to the checkout counter without acknowledging him. Yanking cash out of her wallet, she dropped a twenty for Eddy, the bookstore owner.

  "Fine day today," Eddy said, taking the cash and working the register.

  "It's great," Utah answered s
hortly. She was too aware of Mason standing behind her in line to pretend congeniality.

  "You all settled in yet?" Eddy asked.

  "As much as I can be."

  Eddy counted her change in his hands. "Peggy made some of her hamburger casserole for you. She said she'd bring it by later this afternoon if you're going to be home."

  "That's very kind of her. I'll be sure to thank her when she comes over." Peggy was Eddy's wife and she'd already made her three casseroles. At this rate, she wouldn't have to cook for a year.

  "You know how she loves to cook." Eddy handed her the change.

  "She's a wonderful cook." Utah could feel Mason watching her.

  Eddy smiled his gratitude, or maybe it was pride, as he put her book in a bag and handed that to her. "Here you go."

  "Thank you." Utah dumped the change into her purse, took the bag, and hurried out the door without looking at Mason. His silence hinted to his hesitation. She could feel him restraining from talking to her. Maybe Eddy would keep him busy long enough for her to get away.

  She almost made it a block.

  The sound of his steps slowed when he caught up to her. "Want to grab a cup of coffee?"

  So much for his restraint. "No."

  "One cup."

  Had he decided to get what he could from her this summer? She didn't trust herself enough to let him. "No."

  "Then let's just go talk. Like old times. I miss you."

  Utah stopped. Mason faced her on the sidewalk.

  "You miss me?" Hurt and anger roiled in her. The hurt she didn't even understand. It had been fifteen years. Why should his declaration, that came so, so very late, bother her?

  Surprise crossed his face. "I didn't mean it like that. I miss you. Let's catch up."

  Catching up with him could be dangerous. Still, she was tempted. Like him, she had to practice restraint. And that restraint was running thin. It had run thin the moment she'd seen him at her mother's funeral.

  "You remember the way we used to talk?" His smile reached deep into her heart. Not a place it belonged. But there it was.

  "I didn't realize how much I missed that until I saw you."

  "Well, you know what they say, 'Out of sight, out of mind.'"

  "You were my best friend."

  One who left without saying goodbye. She put her hand on her hip and leaned closer to him. "You kissed me at my mother's funeral!"

  "It was after the funeral. And I was only thinking of that time we went to Burl's."

  "So you decided to see if it felt the same?"

  He sighed. "I'm sorry. I just got caught up with the memory, that's all. You're right. I shouldn't have done it. I won't do it again. I really just want to talk. Please."

  "Mason...." She dropped her hands and straightened. How could she explain something she didn't even understand herself? How could she still have feelings for him after so much time had passed? She looked up the street. "I need some space to get over my mom." A lump of sadness climbed up her throat. "You show up here and kiss me and what am I supposed to think?"

  His eyes grew so soft it was almost worse than when he kissed her. "I realize kissing you was a mistake, Utah. Come on. Let's go get coffee so we can talk a while. I promise not to act like a nineteen-year-old."

  He sneaked his hand around hers and entwined their fingers. She resisted his tug when he backed in the direction they'd come. One step, two. He let go of her hand and she kept walking, even when he faced forward and walked beside her.

  What would one cup of coffee hurt? Besides, she was curious what happened to him over the years, what happened to make him want to spend time in Timberline, and with her.

  Next door to the bookstore was Henry's Coffee. The shop also sold Christmas ornaments year round. She entered ahead of Mason and met curious gazes from two occupied tables. As soon as this got around to Megan it would be all over town that Utah met her old flame for coffee and, oh, they were sure cozy.

  Mason pulled a chair out for her and Utah's face warmed as she sat. Did he have to treat her like a girlfriend?

  "What do you want?" he asked.

  "Anything mocha," she said, trying to avoid those green eyes. "Decaf."

  He went to the front counter and ordered. Utah caught a man and woman looking at her. The longer she looked back the more she realized she recognized them. Bernie, the local realtor, and a woman she didn't know. His wife, probably, since she was wearing a ring. He'd aged a lot. Utah smiled her greeting but he turned away. Hmph. Another believer of Over Easy gossip.

  Mason returned with two coffees and sat across from her, his big frame dwarfing the dainty chair and small round wooden table. His hand swallowed the cup of coffee, too. She studied the strong fingers and cords of lean muscle up his forearm. His powerful chest and shoulders. Neck. Jaw. Mouth. Nothing about him disappointed.

  Except one thing. He wasn't a permanent resident of Timberline. Or any other place. She didn't want to give her heart to another man who'd only wind up disappointing her. She had more than enough of that in her thirty-one years. No more.

  He lowered the cup as she found his eyes. He looked back at her and they stayed that way for a while.

  It was strange being so close to him after so long. How different she was now than the blissfully ignorant teenager who followed her heart wherever it led.

  "You look different," she said.

  "So do you," he answered. "You look really good."

  So do you. She kept it just a private thought, uneasy that it had come to her in the first place.

  "I'm sorry about your dad," he said after a while. "By the time I heard it was months after it happened."

  For once she was glad to confront the subject of her dad. It did a great job of cooling her interest in Mason. "You were somewhere that didn't have phones?"

  "The Hindu Kush."

  She knew he spent time in the Army, but that seemed so extreme. "Afghanistan?"

  "I had a mission there."

  "What kind of mission?"

  "An Army mission."

  "You can't talk about it? Is it classified or something?"

  He just looked at her.

  She studied his face, the practiced indifference there, and marveled at the change in him. At nineteen, he'd been the happy-go-lucky bully-beater, chivalrous and reckless at the same time. Now there was an edge to him, a dangerous one that didn't fit her memory. It was as though the things he'd seen and done in the Army had stolen the dreamer in him, the hero of her youth.

  He grinned and chuckled a little. "Don't worry, angel. I'm still beating up bad guys."

  A spark of warmth rushed her before she caught it. He used to call her that when they were young. His deep, affectionate tone turned an overused endearment into something original. She felt herself fall into the moment, into him, sitting with him, looking into eyes she'd never forgotten.

  "What happened with your dad?" he asked. And she welcomed the jolt that pulled her out of the eddy. Anyone else, and she'd be skirting the issue, but even the distasteful topic of her dad was better than falling all over Mason again.

  She'd spent two weeks every summer with her dad after her parents were divorced. She'd also spent either Thanksgiving or Christmas with him because that's what the courts awarded cheaters. It was always a struggle feeling welcome during those stays, much less loved. He'd been so preoccupied, temperamental, and unsociable. It wasn't until his arrest that she understood why.

  "He used his boss's login to access the company's financial software system to create and approve purchase requisitions. Basically, money was authorized to pay his bogus company for work that was never done."

  "How did he get caught?"

  "Someone in accounting noticed large sums of money going to a new vendor and checked it out." She shook her head in wonder. "I can't believe he thought he could get away with that."

  Mason sipped his coffee and put the cup down. "It must have been hard for you."

  "You know I was never close to my dad. It
was the publicity that bothered me. It reminded me of when we first moved here. You know, all the talk around here. My mom was married three times. Dirt poor. Lots of boyfriends. People got the wrong idea." She breathed a laugh. "I guess I followed her footsteps."

  He studied her face and she could tell he wanted to ask her about the other areas of her life that had fallen apart. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you, Utah."

  She didn't say anything because she didn't think he would have come for her even if he'd been in the United States. For Mason, there would always be something that kept him away from anything that rooted him anywhere. She sipped her coffee, wondering what had changed to bring him here now, to stay a whole summer in a town he couldn't stand.

  Buying the land and deciding to live in her mother's house had felt more right than any other decision she'd made since going to college. She wanted to be rooted. What better place than Timberline? Mason would never understand that.

  "Why are you spending a whole summer here, Mason?"

  Affection over their reunion froze in his eyes. "I'm on leave."

  Definitely something to that. "Why so long?"

  "Am I not entitled to a long break?"

  With the sound of his edgy voice, she stopped trying to get him to talk. When they were kids, he'd have told her everything. Something happened to change that. He was hiding something now, and it clearly was the reason he was here, and the reason he kept gravitating to her. It was as though he needed someone to lean on. Her. He needed her. Apprehension rose up in her. He may need her now but once that need was met, where would that leave her? She didn't think he meant to do it. His intent wasn't to hurt her. Whatever plagued him, it must be serious. Maybe even dangerous. What he did for the Army was dangerous.

  "I drove by your mom's place after Dad told me she died," Mason said after a while.

  She raised her eyes and set her cup down, listening.

  "It was dark and it reminded me of that night I took you to Steamboat that first time," he continued, his eyes full of fond mischief. "Do you remember?"

  She didn't want to. The memory was a good one. "You got me into so much trouble that night. My mom and your dad had everybody searching for me."