“Listen, why don’t you stay here until you’re ready to leave?” His dad squeezed his shoulders, which was as close to a hug as he could get. “You remember where we hide the key, don’t you?”
“Third flowerpot to the left. I remember, Dad.”
His father grinned sheepishly. “We should probably change that, huh?”
Josh shook his head. “I’ll be back, Dad. Right now I need to clear my head. Thanks.”
Ten minutes later he was on his way back to the cabin. He kept seeing Hank Hershberger in the wheelchair. What if it had been his father? An outdoors man, accustomed to being active, coming and going easily under his own steam. By the time he reached the turnoff, Josh felt numb. The truck wasn’t going much more than twenty miles an hour when Josh stomped on the brakes, spotting an animal in the middle of the road. Rover, the stray black Lab with the brown paws. He wore a knowing smile.
“No.” Josh struck the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “You’re on your own, dog. I’ve been in this town too long already. Now get out of the way.” He tapped the horn to emphasize his point.
The dog continued to smile.
Leaning his forehead against the steering wheel, Josh shut his eyes. Nothing was turning out how he had hoped. Not his parents’ marriage, not slipping in and out of town, and not—
He lifted his head and stared at the dog. Had he really been hoping something would happen between him and the weather girl, or news reporter, or whatever she called herself? If he was, then he was definitely delusional because Wendy Valentine had mapped out her life a long time ago, and it didn’t include him. He, Josh Hunter, was directionless, or, as Hank Hershberger might say, rudderless. He smiled grimly and then leaned over and opened the passenger door.
The dog trotted forward and jumped onto the seat as if this were something he did every day. He lay down and rested his chin on Josh’s thigh. Chocolate brown eyes stared up at his rescuer in appreciation.
Josh ran his hand over the smooth dome. “The only reason I’m doing this is to say goodbye.”
Josh backed up, crossed the bridge and turned right onto Last Chance Road. He would return the dog, say his goodbyes, make sure the cabin was secure and set out for Interstate 80 West.
But when the back door to the ranch house opened, only the first part of his plan took place. The dog slipped past him and disappeared down the hall. Before Josh could say a word, a meaty hand grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the kitchen.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WENDY SAT WITH closed eyes in front of the fireplace, her feet on a tufted hassock. The freezing rain had since moved east, but she hadn’t finished the interview with Vera Hershberger. Hank had needed help with the wheelchair. His wife was frantic he would come down with pneumonia again. Vera had mentioned an accident. She must have been referring to the injury that had caused her husband to require the wheelchair.
Suddenly the sounds of dogs barking out “Jingle Bells” drifted down the hall.
Bernie and Babs were home finally and were having a good old time in the kitchen trying out recipes for their upcoming annual Christmas party. She took a deep breath and imagined she was in the middle of a forest. The white pine had been delivered and set up that afternoon. As with everything, her parents liked to make tree decorating an event. Wendy sighed. She enjoyed the holidays, too, but sometimes her parents’ frivolity was too much. Maybe she could sneak away and go back to the station, peruse old files for story ideas.
A wet nose pressed into the palm of her hand and she looked down, surprised to see the stray. “Where have you been, Rover? I thought you went home, but here you are.” She leaned forward and scratched behind both of his ears. “Did you meet my parents? Or are you hiding out, like me?”
Oliver trotted in and jumped into her lap. He gave three short yips. “So you’re the Jingle Bell dog. I see you two have met.”
“Wendy, where are you?” Her father’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “We have company.”
Wendy groaned. Bernie and Babs liked, no, they loved to socialize. On the rare occasions they were home, the couple often had at least two, if not twenty, people over. Bernie had even become friends with Pierre who owned the computer shop next to The Wildflower. Babs had co-taught a photography class for adults with the high school art teacher, Carolyn Hoffman. Often, professors from the university would stop by. Lifting the dog’s floppy, black ear, she whispered, “I’ll make an appearance and when they’re not looking, disappear upstairs. You, my friend, are on your own.” Rover swiped at her chin with a pink tongue. “Sorry, but it’s every man, woman and dog for themselves.”
Placing Oliver on the rug in front of the fire, Wendy pushed herself up and walked to the archway leading into the hall. She looked back. Both dogs had curled up on the rug, nose to tail. “Chicken.” Two tails thumped in harmony. She continued on and into the kitchen, where the carols jangled from a small speaker on the counter, the latest in technology. “Hi, every—” The word died in her throat. Their company wasn’t Pierre and his smart wife, Jessica, nor Carolyn and her funny husband, Sonny. Wendy leaned against the counter for support. Their company was Josh Hunter.
“Hi, Wendy.” Josh moved from one foot to the other, shoving his hands into his coat pockets and then taking them out again. “I brought—”
“You two know each other. I should’ve guessed.” Babs Valentine raced across the kitchen and reached for Josh’s coat. Peeking over their visitor’s shoulder, Babs wiggled her eyebrows at Wendy.
Josh threw Wendy a look of concern. “I wasn’t planning on staying.” He shrugged his jacket back up over his shoulders.
“Nonsense. We need a guinea pig. Wendy, take this boy into the dining room and set the table with the holiday dishes. This is a trial run for our party next Saturday.” Bernie pulled a crystal punch bowl from under the counter.
“And he’s tall. He can put the angel on top of the tree. You’re saved from bringing in the ladder, Bernie.” Babs reached again for Josh’s coat, and this time succeeded in pulling the coat halfway off.
“Hallelujah,” Bernie shouted, and then proceeded to sing along with the chorus of the current Christmas carol playing on the radio.
With a glance first at Wendy and then at the woman pulling at his sleeves, Josh finally gave in and allowed Wendy’s mother to have his coat. “I can’t stay long.”
Wendy had seen the panic on his face as her mother continued to tug at his jacket. Her heart sank at the thought of Josh having to deal with her eccentric parents. What must he think? Her father with his belly and curly white hair could pass for Santa Claus any day of the year. Her mother, whose hair had once been as dark as Wendy’s, was now almost snow-white as well. With her plump, pink cheeks she could pass for Mrs. Claus. “Mom, Dad, did you hear? Josh can’t stay long.”
Babs shoved the heavy jacket into Wendy’s arms. “Hang this in the closet, dear, then set the long table. The holiday dishes, like I said.” She scurried back to her husband’s side. “Ready for the eggnog, Bernie?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, sweetie.” Bernie set the crystal punch bowl at the end of the oak table and propped his hands on his hips. “Do you remember where we got this punch bowl?”
“It was a wedding present from the vice president at your old firm, remember? What was his name? Harvey? Harry?”
Wendy caught Josh’s eye and motioned toward the hall. They left her parents trying to remember who had given them the fancy punch bowl.
“Heinrich!” Her father’s declaration followed them.
“I’m sorry, Josh.” Wendy opened the closet door and stuffed his jacket inside. She moved on to the dining room, looking for the holiday dishes. She found the set on the bottom shelf of the antique sideboard. “My parents sometimes get overly excited and think everyone feels the same way.” Only then did she hazard a gl
impse at the man who had followed her without saying a word. “Just have a cup of eggnog and then slip out. That’s what I’m doing.”
With a nervous smile, Josh took her hands in his. “Listen, I’m sorry for how we left things last time. I was unbearably rude.”
“You had every right. I seem to have trouble determining personal space when it comes to stories. I’m sorry I interfered.” She handed him four plates.
He gave her a smile that warmed her heart. Things were back on track. “Dining room or den?”
Wendy grinned. “You catch on quick.” She pulled four stemmed glasses, decorated with holly, from the shelf. “The long table’s in the den to one side of the archway.”
No sooner had they set the glasses and plates on the table than Bernie appeared with a crystal punch bowl of white froth. Babs had followed with a matching ladle. “I’ll let you do the honors, honey bunny.”
“Nonsense, Babs. We’ll let our special guest have the first taste.” He handed Josh a cup of creamy liquid. “My special recipe.”
Josh leaned down and sniffed the concoction. “I smell nutmeg. What else?”
“Eggnog. With ice cream. And that’s all I’m going to say. Secret recipe and all.” The man elbowed his wife, and they shared a chuckle.
Wendy approached Josh. The small cut-glass cup looked like a toy in his big hands. “I have to warn you, Dad’s eggnog is extremely high calorie.”
Babs eyed Josh up and down as he went to stand next to Bernie by the fireplace. “Seems like this fella can use a few extra pounds, Wendy.” Her mom’s eyebrows once again wiggled.
Fighting growing irritation, Wendy lowered her voice. “Would you stop that?”
With a knowing look, her mother handed her a cup. “I thought you liked the preppy type.”
Wendy glanced across the room, where her father was urging Josh to harmonize on a Christmas carol. “You know, Mom, this one kind of took me by surprise.”
* * *
HEAD SWIMMING, JOSH sat in his truck outside the Valentine home. Lights blazed from the windows. Lighted icicles hung from the porch eves. Bernie and Babs certainly knew how to have fun. Brad and Sue could take lessons from the couple.
Josh had been careful to accept only one glass of chardonnay, the wine Bernie chose to accompany the crab puff hors d’oeuvres. Ice cream had been his downfall. By the time he saw the two empty bottles of rum on the kitchen counter and realized they were in the almost empty punch bowl, it was too late. Josh had indulged heavily. The alcohol had taken its good ole time showing up in his system. But here he was, about to drive home.
Starting the truck, he pulled slowly down the long drive until he was about to pull onto Last Chance Road.
He didn’t have far to go. And it was unlikely anyone would be driving here this time of night, and even less likely anyone would be out walking. But he had made that assumption once before and lived to regret it. He killed the lights and shut off the truck. Maybe if he walked around, breathed in the cold, crisp air.
Getting out of the truck, he looked up at the sky. Stars blanketed the darkness. Closing the truck door with a soft click, he wandered toward the road, searching for constellations. The Valentines were nice people, although he understood Wendy’s comment. They were uncommonly attuned to one another. But they were also a lot of fun. He hadn’t laughed so much in years.
He was leaning against the front of the truck, staring up at the night when he heard a twig snap. His thoughts went immediately to the mountain lion he had seen in Montana. His ears pricked. His father had said there were plenty of coyote and bobcats in Pennsylvania. But it was a tail-wagging Rover who came around the corner of his truck.
He sighed in relief. “Hey, boy, what are you doing out here?” He crouched and ruffled the dog’s ears.
“We could ask you the same thing.” Like a ghost, Wendy appeared out of the darkness.
Josh’s breath caught in his throat. She looked lovely in a bright red coat with a white scarf wrapped around her neck, her dark hair, as always, framing her cheeks. He hoped she couldn’t see the red creeping up his neck. He was embarrassed to be found hanging out at the end of her driveway. He stayed crouched, petted the dog, buying time. “There’s no moon tonight. I was looking at the constellations. They’re so bright.”
Wendy tilted her head back and looked at the sky. “Not a cloud in the sky.” Rubbing the back of her neck as she returned her gaze to Josh and the dog, she grimaced. “Hard on the neck though.”
Josh hesitated only a moment. Even though Wendy had discovered him, he still wasn’t ready to drive back to the cabin. “Follow me.” Retrieving his sleeping bag and pillow, he lowered the tailgate and spread the bag in the bed of the truck. “How’s this?”
Wendy came around and studied his arrangement, then lowered her gaze to the high tailgate. “I don’t think I can—”
Before she completed her sentence, Josh had wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her. He caught her startled gaze for just a second before hopping up beside her. He lay back, rested his head on one side of the pillow, his legs dangling off the end of the truck. “I’ll share my pillow with you. Easier to see the stars.”
Wendy appeared to weigh his offer, then finally lowered herself to the cushioned surface and rested her head next to his. “You’re right. This is better.”
They lay in silence for only a minute before Rover jumped into the bed and lay down at their heads.
“He sure has made himself at home, hasn’t he?” Josh felt comfortable, content. And he had a beautiful woman at his side. What more could a man want?
“I can’t help but think someone is missing him.” Wendy raised her arm and pointed to an area just above the pine trees lining the drive. “Look, Orion the Hunter.”
“It’s so dark you can make out almost everything. There’s Sirius, the Dog Star.”
“Do you know light pollution prevents eighty percent of the people living in North America from seeing the Milky Way? We’re really lucky.”
Josh reflected on her comment. Lucky? Yes. At this moment he felt lucky. She was waiting for a response, but he couldn’t give her that one. “Yes, the stars are certainly beautiful tonight.”
“Some people have never seen the sky like this. I guess I can understand why my parents retired here.”
“Then why are you in such a hurry to leave?” The question, which was none of his business, was out before he realized.
“Because I haven’t been anywhere yet. I want to experience different locations, different cultures.” He felt her turn her head on the pillow and size him up. “You’ve been everywhere. Why are you in such a hurry to leave?”
“Different reasons, I guess.” Josh wished he could explain to her how part of his punishment was avoiding home. But he couldn’t help think that while she might be sympathetic toward him, she would see a story. “Your dad really liked your sister’s apartment, didn’t he?” The man had spent a large part of the evening describing the proximity to popular spots in New York.
“Who wouldn’t? Her place overlooks Central Park.”
The change in subject achieved his goal. At the mention of her father and sister, Wendy had turned away and redirected her attention to the sky. Josh heard the note of derision in her tone and remembered when she had referred to her sister as her dad’s favorite daughter. “You know, your dad loves you.” Somehow the darkness made it easier to talk of love, something he wouldn’t normally have done.
“Oh, sure he does. Just not as much as Katie. Katie is the golden girl, in looks as well as deeds.” A sigh sounded from the pillow. “She’s been offered a new show, something to do with crime, police work, I don’t know.”
“What about your interview with Kowalsky? Did it air yet?”
Another long sigh. “Walt said no. He said that since the man wasn’t c
harged, there was no story.”
“But he left town, or so everyone thinks. That makes him look guilty.” Too late. Josh realized he had done exactly the same thing. He had left Bear Meadows. And even though the man was alive, Josh had changed his life and his wife’s life for the worse. He thought of the restored boat. The weights newly cleaned.
Propping herself on one elbow, Wendy sat up to look at him. “You know, I have a motto, courtesy of the woman I hired to find me the perfect job.”
“Walk softly and carry a big stick?”
“Very funny. No men, no kids, not even a pet.”
“I see. That explains the look of horror on your face when Rover showed up at the door.”
She laughed. “Maybe it’s time I changed my expectations.”
He could no longer see the stars overhead, just Wendy’s shining dark eyes. At one time she had said she didn’t have time for a boyfriend. Was she making time now? He reached up and tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear. She was wearing diamond studs, winking like the stars above. “You should only change your expectations if that’s what you want.”
Wendy leaned closer. Her lips were only a breath away from his. Even now he could see traces of her red lipstick she must have worn for her last on-air report. “Why did you kiss me on Thanksgiving, when we went into the kitchen?”
He grinned. “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss a beautiful woman?”
She tapped his chest with one finger. “Tell me the truth, Joshua Hunter.”
His heart skipped a beat. “You made the best of a bad situation, Wendy. My parents made the dinner so uncomfortable, and you kept trying to make things better. I appreciated your effort.” He reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together. “I’m glad you were there.”
“And the kiss?”
He searched for the right words. “A thank-you.”
She squeezed his hand. “Kiss me again, Joshua Hunter.”
She was reacting to her parents’ tales of their city adventures with her sister, the star, and to the disappointment of her boss refusing to air her interview with Joe. Was she taking a step back from the gung-ho reporter in search of a big story? Because if she was, then maybe she was no longer a threat. Maybe Josh didn’t have to be in such a hurry to leave town. And he had told his father. The secret was no longer entirely his. In other words...maybe things could work out. He could stay a few weeks longer, maybe through Christmas, and finish the boat. Hank would definitely get a better price if the boat was finished.
An Allegheny Homecoming Page 15
