Wild Ice

by Rachelle Vaughn

  Lauren slapped her palm against her forehead so hard it startled him. “Sugar! I forgot to add the sugar! I got so distracted by a Northern flicker outside the window that I forgot to add the sugar.” How ironic. She threw back her head and laughed. Lord knew she kept enough sugar on hand to make nectar for all the hummingbirds in the area. “Well, JD, I guess I still owe you because this might just be the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. Ah well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

  “Yeah, it was a nice thought.”

  Lauren thought she heard disappointment in his voice but shook it off. “Well, I’ll just take my dish back home and get outta your hair.” She took the bowl from him, added it to hers and rinsed them out in the sink.

  “Wait…” JD said from behind her.

  She turned to face him, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

  He paused and then closed his mouth as if he thought better of it. “You know a lot about birds?” he finally asked.

  “I like to think so. A lifetime of studying them has gotta mean something.”

  He looked at her blankly and she went on to explain. “I’m an ornithologist, someone who studies birds. I have a Master’s degree in ornithology. I’ve made it my life’s work to know a lot about birds.” Well, maybe until recently. She didn’t know what her life’s work was anymore. Currently it just sort of hung in limbo like the rest of her life.

  He nodded and actually looked somewhat impressed. “Come out to the patio,” he instructed her. “There’s something you might be able to help me with.”

  The cobbler was abandoned on the kitchen counter and Lauren followed him outside. She had to admit she was more than a little intrigued. What species of bird did he want to ask her about? The yellow-billed magpie that strutted through the pasture looking for grasshoppers? The white-faced ibis that waded through the marsh, its ghoulish red eyes searching for fish and frogs? Or would it be the ruddy duck with its blue bill and red-brown body diving for algae? The questions swirled around in her mind as Mel squeezed through the door and took off toward the field.

  The view from the mansion was just as incredible as Lauren imagined. The entire refuge stretched beyond the manor and the sight simply took her breath away. From the trail, the view was amazing, but it was even more spectacular right here on JD’s back porch. He was a lucky man.

  This was an entirely new perspective of the wetlands and Lauren was glad he’d invited her outside to see it. Having a view of the refuge right outside your door without being blocked by trees was nothing short of spectacular.

  Lauren shook herself out of the trance.

  When she opened her mouth to ask what he needed her help with, he signaled for her to listen. “Hear that?” he asked.

  Patiently, she waited. Finally, a cooing sound from off in the distance broke through the silence. She looked over to where the sound came from and saw a cluster of birch trees. “Isn’t it beautiful? Well, sad, yet beautiful at the same time, but still beautiful.”

  He looked over at her, obviously hanging on her every word.

  “It’s a mourning dove,” she told him.

  At first, JD thought she said morning dove, but no, of course, it would be a mourning dove. Very fitting.

  “Oh,” was all he said and sat down on a nearby bench.

  “It’s a male trying to attract a mate…” Lauren rattled on about their diet of exclusively seeds and how both the male and female incubated their eggs and how they were capable of flying up to fifty-five miles an hour.

  Mel trotted back from the field and took his place by her feet.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled a dog bone out of her back pocket and gave it to Mel. His tail wagged with glee and he promptly settled down to dig his teeth into the rawhide.

  She went to sit down, but then remembered the ice pack she’d brought to return. “Where is my brain today?” she asked no one in particular. “First the sugar and then the ice pack…At least I remembered this.” She pulled the ice pack from her other pocket and handed it to JD. “Thanks for this. It came in handy.”

  JD took the ice pack and turned it over in his hands. “Sorry I didn’t come back to check on you. I, uh…something came up.”

  Lauren didn’t know much about him, but she could recognize there was a storm brewing in those blue eyes of his. “That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to.”

  Maybe she’d wanted him to come over and check on her, but she had no right to pin expectations on him. In fact, it was probably for the best that she keep her distance altogether.

  Lauren glanced left and right and the only place to sit was on the bench next to him. The rest of the patio furniture was strategically arranged on the other side of the patio. She thought about standing, but he scooted over to make room for her. So much for keeping her distance.

  His hand rested on his knees and she sat down and mimicked his posture in an effort to keep relaxed. His eyes spoke volumes, but in a language she couldn’t read. How could he look at the beauty of the refuge in front of him and still manage to look so troubled?

  The sun reflected off the gold wedding band on his left ring finger.

  “You and your wife sure chose a beautiful property,” she commented.

  He ran his thumb over the gold band and remembered when Darla slid it on his finger at their wedding. It felt like yesterday…

  “I’m not married.” His voice was scratchy and rough.

  The correct term was widower, but he didn’t use it. He didn’t like the word. It sounded old-fashioned and in no way described the bleakness of his situation.

  “Oh,” Lauren said. Once again, JD seemed to create more questions than he answered.

  Lauren looked around the patio with a frown. “It’s a shame you don’t have any bird feeders out here. You’d have birds galore. Marsh likes to sit in the window and watch them eat birdseed. It’s kind of like kitty television for him.”

  She looked out at the wetlands and JD watched as her lips curved into a smile. She really loved this place, didn’t she?

  “You must sit out here every night and watch the sun go down,” she said, her voice full of wonder. “I know I would. The view from the cottage is obstructed by the trees.”

  JD followed her gaze and saw the sprawling mudflats dotted by trees. In fact, this was the first time he’d sat out here on the patio. In all the months he’d lived here he hadn’t once sat outside and appreciated the view. He was too preoccupied with dwelling on the past and reliving it inside his own head to notice the landscape around him.

  “When I moved in I thought the cottage was empty,” he said.

  Mel chewed loudly on the bone and Lauren reached down and patted his head. “My great Aunt Cora passed away and left it to me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. She was a neat lady. Her death came as a surprise. All of a sudden I inherited a cottage in the middle of nowhere along with a temperamental kitty cat, so I decided to come out and spend the summer here. It seemed like a good place to escape South Oakdale and figure out my next move.”

  Lauren let her mind wander and imagined Aunt Cora standing out here with Howard. Minus the deceit and heartbreak, it must have been an incredibly romantic time. It was easy to envision two people falling in love surrounded by such a beautiful backdrop.

  She looked over at JD and he was looking at her, waiting for her to answer a question she hadn’t heard. She shook the fantasy from her head. “I’m sorry. I zoned out for a minute there.”

  He shrugged. “I just asked if you were from the South Oakdale in Oregon.”

  “Yeah. Have you been there?”

  He shrugged again. “I used to travel a lot.”

  “You know, my aunt knew the man who built this house.”

  He didn’t say anything and she wasn’t bothered by it. She was already getting used to his silent contribution to the conversation.

  “I know it couldn’t be in a better location,” she told him.

  “Why’s that?
”

  “Don’t you know? It borders the wildlife refuge.”

  When he heard the word ‘refuge’ all he could think of was the women’s refuge that Darla had volunteered at.

  When he looked at her blankly, Lauren looked back at him like he had a third eye.

  “It’s only the biggest flyway for migrating birds in the world.”

  “Oh. Yeah,” He forced a thin smile. “I remember my Realtor mentioning something about it.”

  Lauren leaned back and took in the view. “It must be incredible to be here full time and watch the seasons change. I’ve only ever spent a couple of weeks here at a time, usually in the summer.”

  “I don’t spend a lot of time outside.”

  Once again, he noticed a look of surprise mixed with pity cross her face.

  “What about you?” she asked. “What brings you out to the middle of nowhere?”

  JD let out a breath. She asked so many damn questions. Or maybe she didn’t. She just asked the ones that were hardest to answer. Mel sure seemed to like her, though. Probably too much. Then again, she didn’t ask Mel questions that he was too afraid to answer.

  “It’s a long story,” he said after a long moment.” It was just as much the truth as it was an evasive answer.

  She nodded, reading his guarded body language loud and clear. “Well,” she let out a breath. “Speaking of Marsh, I probably should get home to feed him.”

  JD wanted to ask her to stay, to just continue to sit there with him and ramble on about the birds. He liked hearing her talk about them like they were friends of hers instead of just noisy specks flying overhead. It had been a long time since he’d heard someone be excited about something. Until now, he hadn’t realized how long.

  He didn’t say anything and watched as she walked away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Duck, Duck, Coot

  Sitting on the patio with Lauren had been…pleasant. No, not pleasant. It had been comfortable, yet awkward and nice, yet distressing all at the same time. Her presence brought up things he didn’t want to deal with. Brought up feelings he shouldn’t be feeling. Above all, her visit gave him a feeling of hope despite the despair. Hope that there might be a life beyond grief and life beyond golf tournaments broadcasted on TV and old sit-com reruns. Life beyond the walls of Teal Manor.

  She hadn’t been touched by tragedy and if she had, she hadn’t let it destroy her like he had.

  He still couldn’t believe she brought him homemade cobbler. Sure, she’d forgotten to add the main ingredient, but the gesture was a welcome surprise. Darla never cooked or baked. She was too busy working to make something you could just buy at the store or have catered.

  He should have gone over to the cottage to check on Lauren after she hurt her ankle. He would have, but seeing Sloan had sent his emotions into a tailspin. Feelings he’d buried months ago were trudged up again and left him feeling raw. He should be happy for Sloan, but he wasn’t. He was too busy being jealous that she got to pick up and move on with her life while he remained in the same place—geographically and mentally.

  JD needed to get out of the house. When the TV wasn’t on, the only sound in the empty house was the repetitive ticking of clocks and he couldn’t stand it anymore. The grandfather clock in the living room synchronized with the clock in the kitchen and the clock in the foyer cheerily ticked in unison with the other two. They all ticked and tocked until JD was on the brink of going batty. Just thinking about going outside made him feel better already.

  Maybe he could catch Lauren on her way back from her walk. She must have set out at the crack of dawn because Mel hadn’t even been up early enough to join her.

  So, with the inkling of hope of seeing Lauren in the back of his mind, JD went outside and started brushing Mel’s blonde coat. Just as he was finishing up Mel’s hindquarters, the dog started to squirm. Before JD could stop him, Mel bounded off.

  In the distance, JD saw a hat bob above the grass.

  Lauren.

  What was so special out there that had her returning day after day? He’d seen flocks of geese fly overhead plenty of times, but there wasn’t anything special about a goose or a duck. Was there? Lauren obviously thought so.

  The only time JD gave a second thought to the winged creatures was when one crapped on his car. They weren’t just a hobby to her either. She had made a career out of them. Her “life’s work” as she had put it. Well, good for her. At least someone around here was living up to their potential.

  When he thought of a “birder,” images of wrinkled and retired old women with khaki pants and safari vests came to mind. Lauren was nothing like that. She was young and fresh-faced with infectious enthusiasm and natural beauty that didn’t come from a tube or a bottle.

  She walked toward him with a spring in her step and a bright smile on her face.

  Between the binoculars and the big floppy hat, Lauren looked like she was on safari in his backyard. Her walks in the sun were starting to tan her skin and lighten her hair. Her clothes blended in with the nature around her. She wore green shorts that showed off her slender legs and a brown tank top that clung to her subtle curves. Freckles dotted her nose and he was glad she didn’t try to cover them up with makeup. Now why would such an odd thought occur to him?

  “Hey,” she greeted warmly, her smile illuminating her eyes.

  She smiled so easily and for him it was still such a struggle.

  “Hi.”

  “The birds will love this for making their nests.” She picked up a clump of Mel’s hair from the concrete and let it sift through her fingers. “Weavers in particular.”

  JD watched as the hair was carried away in the breeze. “How was your walk?” he asked.

  “Fantastic. I got a shot of your mourning dove so you could see what he looks like,” she answered.

  She handed him her camera and he looked at the display. Hmm. There it was. The photo was slightly blurry and the bird looked stunned at having his picture taken. How did such a mournful sound could come from such a dull looking bird?

  When he was finished, Lauren took the camera from him and played with the strap. “I’d love to show you the nest I found. The weavers’, I mean.”

  She sounded so hopeful that JD didn’t want to let her down. Declining would be easy. It was what he’d defaulted to doing this past year. “No thanks,” “I’m good,” “That’s okay.” The words would be easy to say. After all, they were his go-to phrases. For some reason, though, he didn’t want to use one of his go-to phrases on Lauren. If he was going to live out here on the border of the wetlands, shouldn’t he as least be familiar with the area?

  Anyway, what harm could it do? Walking down a trail with Lauren to go look at some birds? If nothing else, he could at least be there in case a tree root reached up and tripped her again. Yeah, that’s why he’d go. Because she was nice and he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

  “Yeah.”

  She looked surprised when he accepted. Maybe she’d been expecting a “No thanks,” “I’m good,” or “That’s okay.”

  The smile that spread across her face told him he’d chosen the right answer.

  “Great. We can meet out here in the morning and I’ll give you a tour of the trail. Mornings are the best time for bird activity.”

  “The early bird gets the worm, right?”

  Smiling, she looked at him, surprised to hear him crack a joke. “That’s right.”

  They agreed on a time and JD felt the corners of his lips tug into a smile of his own.

  * * *

  Once again, Lauren returned to the Red Valley National Wildlife Refuge Visitor Center between the hours listed on the sign on the door. She was on a personal mission to solve the mystery of its closed doors and determined to prove that the other day was just a fluke.

  She marched up to the door and when she pulled on the handle, it still wouldn’t open. She tapped her toe on the ground. The manager must be ill or on vacation with no one to cov
er for them. That was the only explanation.

  When she called the phone number listed on the brochure, she reached a recording that told her the same erroneous visiting hours as the faded sign on the door.

  Lauren saw a man on a riding lawn mower on the other side of the parking lot and her pulse sped up. Maybe he knew what was going on around here. She flagged him down and asked him about the office closure.

  “I’m just a gardener, hired on under the new management.”

  New management? That could explain why the refuge had been closed to the public.

  “Do you know who that is?” Lauren asked. She really wanted to inquire about a job, but that was becoming impossible when there was never anyone around to ask.

  The man tipped back his straw hat and wiped his brow on his sleeve and pulled the hat back down over his eyes. “All I know is that the property switched hands a few months back. I was hired to maintain the place for when it gets opened back up again.”

  “Do you know when that will be?”

  His lips spread into a smirk and she was suddenly embarrassed for asking so many questions.

  “No ma’am. Like I said, I’m just hired help.”

  “Well, thank you,” she said and headed back to the cottage.

  Who had purchased the refuge? Why would someone buy the land and pay to keep it maintained, but not open the refuge to the public?

  Lauren relaxed the muscles in her face. All of these unanswered questions were going to give her wrinkles.

  * * *

  When JD met up with Lauren in the field the next morning, she looked as well-rested and excited as Mel. JD, on the other hand, was groggy and cranky—even after a workout and two cups of coffee.

  When he looked closer, though, JD could tell that Lauren was hiding something beneath the cheery hello. He hoped he was better at masking his feelings than she was. The way she nibbled on her bottom lip and how her brows furrowed together were a clear giveaway that something was gnawing at her.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

  She looked over and blinked away a faraway look. “Oh, nothing. I just found out that someone purchased the refuge.” She looked at him, her eyes curious and hopeful. “You didn’t…?”