Only Her Heart

by Lyn Cote

  “You can’t go.” Annie closed the gap between them as if physically prepared to stop him.

  “Why not?”

  “You just can’t!” she wailed.

  “Well, I can and I will. My mom is not going along with your dad without me—”

  “My dad...your mom.” Annie took a step backward. “What’s going on in that brain of yours? Dad said it would do your mom good to get out of the city. They’re just friends.”

  “Friends? I don’t think so. She says she finds him attractive. That’s not something a woman says about a friend.”

  “Well, that’s their business.” Annie looked flushed. “Not ours.”

  “I don’t want my mother hurt again.” Jack bent his head forward and glared at her.

  “My father wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Annie propped her hands on her hips and leaned forward almost nose to nose with him. “And they don’t need a chaperone. They’re just friends. Why shouldn’t your mom have a week at the lake? Jack, you’re being ridiculous. And it’s their business anyway.”

  Jack couldn’t deny that Annie’s words had an effect on him but he was going. He had to make sure about this himself.

  Late Friday, near late summer nightfall, Annie leaned back discontentedly in the front seat of Jack’s car. Andy sat in the back in his car seat. Somewhere ahead of them in the truck, Mike, with Sandy and Austin, preceded them en route to the cabin in northern Wisconsin. Traffic jammed the four-lane highway. Cars with boats and bikes attached swooshed by. Tents strapped on top of vans and RV’s zoomed past. Annie tried to release the tension in her neck and upper back muscles. How had she gotten so stressed? Easy answer—I didn’t need Jack on my vacation.

  Every time she tried to distance herself from Jack, something intervened and she found herself more closely enmeshed with him than ever before. What was going on? Why was breaking away so impossible? And what if Jack was right and her dad and his mom were interested in one another? She would be happy for them of course but...

  She closed her eyes. Not that—please, Lord. If Dad and Sandy actually are growing closer, it will make Jack totally unavoidable. I’ll have him at work and in the family. Nooooo.

  “Aunt Annie,” Andy whined for the seventh time in the past fifteen minutes. “Are we there yet?”

  “Not yet, honey.” Annie took a deep breath. “Jack, there’s a rest area coming up. We need to stop before it gets dark. I think it’s on our right. Watch for it.”

  “Stop?” he protested, not taking his eyes from the road. “We can’t stop in this traffic. We don’t have time to stop. Your dad must be miles ahead of us.”

  Annie groaned silently. This was like something in a script of a comedy about a couple on a family trip. “We’re traveling with a child, remember?” Annie tried to keep her voice light. “I told you we’d have to make frequent pit stops.”

  “But we stopped two hours ago,” Jack said in a mystified tone. “At this rate, it will be midnight before we get there.”

  “Well,” she explained, giving in to feeling world-weary and just plain cranky, “that’s why I wanted to get away no later than two so we’d avoid the Friday-night weekend getaway traffic—”

  “You know I had to get that software problem fixed. GEC Services is one of our most profitable accounts.”

  “Let’s not go over this again.” She tightened her self-control. “Just—there! There’s the sign. One half mile on the right,” she read.

  “I can’t stop—”

  “Please, Jack,” Annie cut him off. “Stop at the wayside!”

  With a swallowed groan, he flipped on his turn signal and turned into the shady parking area. He coasted into the spot under a maple tree and parked.

  “Lighten up. Jack,” she murmured. “The drive is part of the experience. The trip is not an endurance race.” For how many centuries have women been saying that? She envisioned herself in long dusty skirts tramping beside a covered wagon, and Jack saying, We have to cover two more miles today—keep moving.

  Oblivious to the emotional currents in the car, Andy unlatched his seat belt harness and climbed into the front. “Let’s go pump water, Mr. Lasater!”

  “What?” Jack looked dumbfounded.

  Andy clambered over the seat onto Jack’s lap, unlatched Jack’s door and jumped outside. “Come on. It’s fun!”

  “Go on. I have to use the facilities,” Annie said, motioning toward the small brick building on her right. “You go and help Andy pump us some water. Have him wash his hands and face, without getting completely soaked.”

  Jack didn’t reply. Andy was dragging him by the hand toward the covered open-air shelter where another family was washing their hands under the old-fashioned communal hand pump.

  Annie called out, “I said lighten up, Jack.”

  When she returned, she found that Jack and Andy had shed their shoes and socks and were taking turns pumping the water onto their feet just for the fun of it. Liberally dotted with splash marks on his shirt and slacks, Jack was grinning at Andy, who was jumping up and down and yelping at the cold water. Why couldn’t Jack always take life like this?

  Unfortunately, it only made him more irresistible to her. “Having fun yet?” she asked, a smile curving her mouth.

  “Come on, Aunty. The water’s really good,” Andy invited.

  “Aren’t we in a hurry?” she asked in an arch tone, sitting down on a picnic bench under the shelter and slipping off her sandals.

  “Lighten up,” Jack said, grinning at her. “The drive is part of the experience—or something.”

  She chuckled, invigorated by his change of attitude. She held her feet under the icy water as Jack pumped again. “Cold!” she shrieked.

  “Yeah. Isn’t it great?” Andy crowed. “I wish we had a pump in our backyard. Could Grampa make us one?” He leaped up and down in the spattering water. “Let me pump again. Let me!”

  Jack lifted the boy so he could reach the dark-green pump handle. Then Andy, with his full forty pounds of weight on it, dragged the handle down.

  She shrilled again as the frigid water spurted over her bare feet and ankles. Shivers ran up her legs and the smile that had conquered Jack’s aggravated expression nearly overwhelmed her with delicious sensations she couldn’t afford to encourage. Oh, Jack, what am I going to do with you?

  After midnight, Jack peered at a faded wood sign lit only by his headlights, Groshky’s Cabins. They’d arrived. Annie dozed beside him, her cheek against his arm, while Andy slept in his car seat. The vacation had officially begun. Jack couldn’t figure out if he was relieved or not. This summer had been full of unexpected changes and surprises. When would he get back to normal? He stared into the darkness, hearing the croaking of frogs and the hoot of an owl. What next? A bear? What did I get myself into?

  Chapter 10

  “Morning!”

  At the sound of excited young voices. Jack blinked open his eyes.

  Austin and Andy stood next to where he lay on the couch, staring into his face. “Morning!” they repeated even louder.

  A moment of disorientation and then Jack pulled himself up to a sitting position.

  “We’re at the cabin!” Andy announced with a leap of excitement.

  “Aunt Sandy is gonna make us pancakes!” Austin performed a similar jig.

  “Do you like pancakes?” Andy asked in as serious a tone as if he’d just asked Jack if he were in favor of world peace.

  Jack managed to nod. It’s real. I’m here in this cabin. Then he heard his mother speak to Mike and it all came back to him. He was here to keep his mom from getting too close too soon with Mike.

  “Hi there.” Annie’s soft, feminine voice curled down the back of his neck.

  It was happening again. He looked up and Annie was there at the foot of the couch. She wore a deep-blue tank top and cutoffs with ragged hems. Her wet hair was slicked back, but a few drops of water trickled down her neck and wisps of black hair curled around her hairline. She looked gorgeous.
>
  Annie, what am I going to do? Why can’t I stop noticing you? Why can’t we just be the way we were a month ago? Looking away, he combed his hair with his fingers, feeling that he needed a haircut and, more critically, a shower. A cold one. “Hi.”

  “It’s your turn for the shower now.” Annie sat down on the arm of the couch, her thigh bumping against his blanketed foot.

  Keeping his eyes downcast, he swung his feet to the floor.

  “Hurry up. Your mom’s in charge of breakfast and...” Annie paused to sniff audibly. “It smells like bacon—”

  “And pancakes!” the boys chorused in high spirits.

  Aware of the mouth-watering scents of bacon and butter, he rose and heeded Annie’s motion toward a door off the main room of the rustic cabin. It occurred to him as he picked up his duffle bag and entered the small bathroom that Annie was often telling him what he should do. I should resent that.

  But he didn’t. Existence was so much easier with Annie there to point the way. With Annie, he didn’t have to think about all the daily minutiae of life. That was Annie’s job, and it left him free to concentrate on what he really wanted to do, his work. What would he do if he lost Annie?

  Why am I thinking about things like this? Was it because of losing Tom or because of what Tom had said about Jack proposing to Annie so she wouldn’t leave? Annie would never leave him, would she? Still, insecurity trickled through him. So much had changed in the past month. In any event proposing to Annie for that reason alone was not a good one.

  Pushing these disturbing thoughts aside, Jack surveyed the cramped bathroom—a rusty-looking toilet, sink and aged shower stall with a sad shower curtain—all with barely room to turn around between them. Okay, Annie had warned him by repeating the word, “rustic.” He hadn’t been headed for the Hilton.

  “Hurry up, Jack!” his mother called from the kitchen, her cheerful voice a bit faint through the door.

  Why does she have to sound so happy? Jack stripped, and cranked on the shower. Standing under the unenthusiastic sprinkle, he let the water rinse the sleep from his eyes.

  Recollections of the camping trips he and his parents had taken when he was no older than the twins fluttered into his mind. Those had ended with his dad’s entrance into medical school. He’d been much too busy after that. Jack scrubbed his head, rubbing away the memories.

  “Come on, Jack! Pan-cakes!” one of the twins yelled, pounding on the bathroom door.

  Jack complied quickly, drying off and donning a wrinkled pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He dropped his duffle back at the end of the couch and walked to the round table at one end of the large central room. Mike sat there with the twins on his right side. Annie was setting the table with chipped plates, mismatched tableware and bright yellow paper napkins. She smiled and motioned him toward the seat next to Andy. He sank into it, not looking toward Mike.

  “Morning, Jack,” Mike said. “Sounds like you got stuck in the middle of the weekend traffic last night.”

  Was that a dig or just conversation? Jack shrugged.

  His mother appeared at the table with a large platter of fragrant bacon in hand. Annie came up behind with an even larger platter topped with a listing stack of griddle cakes.

  Beaming, Mike rose and took the platter from Sandy.

  Jack didn’t miss the smile she gave Mike or the way Mike managed to touch his mom’s hand in the transfer. He fumed silently. He would get Mike alone for a talk—soon. Maybe Mike didn’t realize that he was leading Jack’s mom on. Jack would give him the benefit of the doubt until then—but only till then.

  Sandy and Annie sat down, completing the circle.

  “Let’s say grace, Annie,” Mike said. He reached for Sandy’s and Austin’s hands and bowed his head.

  Jack took the hand Andy offered him and accepted Annie’s hand in his other. Her hand felt so small, so dainty in his. How could someone so slight and delicate outside be so strong inside?

  “Dear Father, bless our time together here at the cabin. Give us safety and sunny days. Bless those who stayed at home—Melissa, Troy, Patience and Claire. Now we thank you for this delicious food and the loving hands that prepared it. Amen.”

  “Amen!” the twins shouted. “Pancakes! Please!”

  Jack didn’t miss the special smiles that Mike and his mother exchanged over this. He simmered with worry. His talk with Mike would be sooner rather than later.

  The breakfast passed quickly and then Jack was suddenly aware that he had no plan for the day. In his momentary disorientation, he dived for his black laptop case at the end of the couch as if it were a life preserver.

  “We’re going to go swimming, Mr. Lasater,” Andy informed him. “Wanta come?”

  Jack stared at them. “Swimming?”

  “Yes, Jack. You know—” his mom teased, “—you get into water and wave your hands and kick your legs around to keep from sinking.”

  He held his laptop case in front of him. “I need to check in and see if any of my clients need me. What’s the Wi-Fi password?” He looked to Annie.

  “Jack, you’re on vacation,” Sandy started.

  “Don’t waste your breath,” Annie said. “Jack, we don’t have Wi-Fi here.”

  “What? No Wi-Fi?” He couldn’t believe it “What place doesn’t have a Wi-Fi?”

  “Groshky’s Cabins are without Wi-Fi,” Mike replied. “People come here to get away from phones, the Internet, Facebook.”

  Jack bristled. “People depend on me—”

  “Come on, Jack, we’ll wean you off your addiction slowly.” Annie sounded amused with him. “Check your cell phone bars.”

  “But,” he began, “what if—”

  “Check your phone. But you’re on vacation and we’ll only let you do that twice a day. Got it?” Annie looked determined. “We left work behind us. Claire and Patience are able to take of matters. They’ll call if there is an emergency. There is a landline in the office.”

  Jack gave in and checked his phone. The signal wasn’t very good in the cabin. After a short walk among towering pines with Annie, he said, “Not good.”

  “We’ll keep trying. Follow me.”

  He trailed Annie through an aged and scarred wooden screen door into a dilapidated log house near the resort entrance. Watching the bars on his screen go up, from the corner of his eye, he recognized it from the night before.

  Annie greeted a large woman in her sixties with three chins and flyaway gray hair. “Hello, Mrs. Groshky. I wanted to introduce Jack to you.” She did so.

  He shook hands with the woman over a cluttered counter that displayed fishing lures, now scrolling through his email.

  “Jack, you have to give in and admit that we are in the north woods, away from civilization as we know it.” Looking amused, Annie leaned toward him and rested her folded hands on the counter.

  Trying not to look at the attractive picture she presented, Jack read the one email that he’d been looking for.

  “Your mom Sandy?” the woman asked.

  “Yes.” Looking up from his email, Jack didn’t like the woman’s satisfied expression.

  “Glad to see Mike’s found somebody sweet.”

  Before Jack could respond, the woman went on. “You taking Sandy to Jane’s Shop in Eagle Lake, Annie?”

  He watched Annie’s face lift with excitement. “Yes, I told her all about Jane. I need a few new things.”

  Mrs. Groshky chuckled. “That’s the ticket. Don’t we all? We ‘re all glad Jane moved north. Sometimes we want to wear something besides denim or flannel.”

  Jack was trying to figure out what they were talking about, when a voice interrupted.

  “Hey! Mrs. Groshky,” a kid yelled as he banged inside, “my dad needs bait.”

  The woman went over to an old-model refrigerator. “What’s he want—night crawlers or red oak worms?”

  Night crawlers.” The kid bellied up to the counter.

  Night crawlers? Another customer, a harassed-looking man in a
hat with fishing lures around the brim, arrived to get keys to the cabin they were renting for the week.

  “You’re busy. See you later, Mrs. Groshky,” Annie hurried him outside before he could suggest she add Wi-Fi to night crawlers, etc.

  “You go swimming, fishing, have fun, Jack,” Mrs. Groshky called after them.

  Trying to ignore Mrs. Groshky, Jack watched Annie walking beside him. He again wondered at the change in Annie. They’d worked side by side for five years. Why hadn’t he noticed the fluid way she walked, the way her perfect nose turned upward at its end?

  Annie strolled beside him, evidently unaware of the effect she was having on him.

  “Did you hear anything from any of our clients?”

  “Just my dad saying he’s glad my project’s done and everything’s back to normal.” Jack silently hoped his dad was right.

  “I also think,” Jack continued, “I’ve got enough information to clear that nurse they suspected. But I still wish I could get a lead on who the hacker was.”

  “Maybe you scared whoever it was out of the hacking business.”

  “Let’s hope so.” But worry lingered in the back of his mind.

  On the walk back to the cabin, Annie racked her brain to come up with a strategy for getting Jack to actually take a vacation. He was here but would he start having fun?

  He strode beside her on the dirt path as if they were still on the streets of Chicago. If she didn’t stop him now, the vacation could be ruined for everyone.

  Within sight of their cabin, Annie decided she had to take action. She slowed. “Jack, we need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About whether you should stay or go.” Annie halted and faced him.

  “Go? Why?”

  She gripped his arm and dragged him into the cover of a tall pine. The chirping birds in the tree flew out, flapping and scattering overhead. “Jack, one of the reasons my family comes here every year is that Groshky’s hasn’t changed since 1957 when they opened.” She released his arm and edged back. How could he look so good in wrinkled shorts and a rumpled T-shirt? “It isn’t a Wi-Fi kind of place.”